The guys on the bleachers pull down my pants and underwear

I tried to make a beeline for the exit, keeping my head down and clutching the waistband of my jeans like my life depended on it, but I didn't make it far. Before I could even reach the double doors, two of the guys from the bleachers jumped down and cut off my path, grinning like sharks. Mark moved fast, grabbing a fistful of my jeans and underwear, and yanked them down to my ankles in one sharp tug. I stumbled backward, bare-assed and totally exposed again, letting out a yelp as my junk flopped out into the open air.