Post by Madman on Nov 17, 2013 18:12:16 GMT -5
"In the pro wrestling world there is no rougher pill to swallow than losing your debut match with a company."
"To a girl by submission nonetheless..."
"What a pathetic way to make a first impression. There I was controlling the flow for the majority of the match and I got caught in a glorified kneebar. Fuck my life!"
"There's no mulligans allowed in the wrestling world. I had my chance to elevate myself to the top of this roster and I failed miserably. I'm not satisfied with that debut. All the praise in the world won't erase the blemish that now sits on my record. All the atta boys, although well intended, are like little daggers being shoved in my back."
"Back to the drawing board. Back to square one."
"In this weeks showcase match against Pat Gordon Junior, from Pro-Frontier Wrestling. In a submission match!"
"Talk about a must win. Tapping out two weeks in a row? Not going to happen!"
I stood at the exit to the parking lot of the Key Arena with my hand pressed on the door. As much as I wanted to push it open and walk through, I couldn't. On the other side of the door was PURE wrestling fans waiting to get a glimpse of some of tonight's competitors. They were electric after a successful inaugural show. It could be felt through the concrete walls that separated us, and it froze me like a statue.
I dreaded the camera flashes, the endless signature requests, and the repetitive simplicities. The last thing I needed right now was some pimply teenager to tell me that I'll get 'em next time.
I nearly jumped as a hand pressed against my back, snapping me out of a trance. I spun around to see one of the arenas security guard nervously standing there in the typical duds: black muscle shirt with big white letters that spell security, black cargo pants, and black boots.
"Mr. Madison, if you don't mind...you're blocking the exit and some of the crew would like to leave."
I back peddled out of the way, clearing a path for the unsung hero's who made tonight's production possible. The door swung open and they were instantly met with the flickering lights from a mixture of cameras and cell phones. They blocked the blinding flashes with the back side of their hands as they tried to cover their eyes. Their sudden dismay was vocalized as the mob of one hundred or so PURE Wrestling groupies screeched, "UGH"!
"You know they're not going to leave until they think all of the wrestlers have left..."
"Yeah I know...thanks captain obvious!"
I had almost built up enough gall to walk out there, tell them to fuck off, and what right to my waiting rental car. That is until I heard another pocket of people approaching from behind. All of the nights referee's were quickly approaching and I wasn't about to hold them up. I stepped aside once more, clearing the path between them and the fans impending disappointment. Once again as the door opened they were met with blinding flashes of light and the sweet sound of despair.
"You know you have nothing to be ashamed about. You put on a hell of a performance. You're one tough son of a bitch!"
Great! Everything I was trying to avoid by dodging the fans was now right in front of me in the form of a muscle-bound meathead who's sole responsibility in his pitiful existence is to make sure no one enters a door without proper authorization.
"Thanks skippy..."
"Skippy?"
"Yeah...Did I stutter? I think I can do my job so much better now just because I have your vote of confidence! It's a real rush! Like a shot of adrenaline has just been pumped through my veins!"
"Really?"
His stupidity baffled me. I knew it didn't take a genius to do his job, but come on now. Was he really that gullible? I shook my head from left to right while uncomfortably staring through him.
"No, not really..."
His shoulders immediately slumped down as he sat on a steel folding chair which rested against the wall. He crossed his arms and pouted like a child after being ridiculed. I actually felt bad for the guy.
"Listen big guy, don't take any offense to what I said. I just don't need to be motivated by someone who has the responsibility of a door lock..."
Damn it, that slipped out naturally. I really need to work on how I talk to others.
"Sorry...guess I'll be going now..."
I walked passed him and put my hand back on the door. I took a deep breath before finally shoving it open. I was met by instant applause from the fans. They break out with a chant of my last name and I was taken back. Everything that I dreaded actually made me come to realize that even in defeat, I gave the fans a match worth the price of admission! I signed autographs and posed for pictures, giving the fans the experience they were waiting in the parking lot for! Just as I was able make it to the end of the crowd one of the teenage fans yelled out to me.
"Are the rumors true? Are you and Pat Gordon Junior having a rematch next week?"
I stopped in my tracks and turned around as the masses waited to hear my response. I scanned the crowd and looked at the the doe-eyed fans who were eating up every slight movement of mine. I baited them in with slight movements of my lips, giving them the impression I was about to answer them. After having my fill I treated them to what they wanted to hear...
"Next Monday night, in a submission match, Pat Gordon Junior gets his dream rematch...I hope he's ready, I know I will be!"
It was a normal day at my Warehouse Training Facility. The massive space was filled with eager men and women whom have traveled from all corners of the world to get a chance to train with my brother and I. The facility was flourishing but this week I just couldn't find a way to pry myself away from the office to roll with the trainees. At the moment I had more pressing matters than showing someone the proper way to take a bump without destroying your back.
My office was situated in the far right corner of the building. A window had been added to the wall which allowed me to see what was happening in my training facility. But today I couldn't be bothered. I had a forty two inch television secured to the wall and my eyes were glued. Playing across the high definition screen was a recording of my match with Pat Gordon Junior at Canadian X Pro's Calgary show. The action was ferocious as we battled back and forth, looking for that slight opening that would allow us to scoop up the victory.
I had been playing the recording all morning, scouting for opening that I may have missed in the heat of the moment. I tensed up with every high impact bump and jumped from my chair with every successful piece of offense. There was no way I was going to take Pat Gordon Junior lightly again. I needed a more dominating performance and I was just trying to pick out my opponents weaknesses that were going to skyrocket me to a victory!
A knock at the door interrupted my scouting session. I pressed pause on the remote which froze the DVD and rose to my feet. I tried to look trough the window to see who was knocking at the door but was unable to get a glimpse. I shuffled my way to the office door and flung it open.
"What!"
I yelled before realizing that it was my long time training partner and close friend, Manny Hernandez. He ushered himself into the office and decided to make himself comfortable in my chair behind my large oak desk. I laughed at him as he threw his feet up onto the desk and leaned back with his hands behind his head.
"Making yourself right at home huh?"
"Yeah you know I got all the pull in this place", he laughed before adjusting himself and sitting upright in the chair. "What are we watching?"
I looked up at the television and glared while responding, "my match against Pat Gordon Junior from three months ago..."
"Oh man, that match was sick. You mind if I watch with ya?"
I couldn't tell the kid no. He always goes well beyond expectations when helping me train with no reward. He wasn't trying to become a wrestler or professional fighter. This was just an outlet for him. His way of keeping clear of trouble. As long as he didn't interrupt my scouting I saw no harm in him allowing him to hang out in the office.
"You two about to square off again right?"
"Yeah, and I can't afford to lose..."
"You won last time, this should be easy breezy!"
I grabbed the remote and pressed play to resume the video. I sat on the chair which was positioned opposite my desk after pulling it to the side of the room. On the screen I scoop slammed Gordon hard onto the mat. I shook my head as the events unfolded. I had foolishly locked in the Peruvian Necktie too early in the math and too close to the ropes. I noticed when I shifted my weight to his side in order to synch in the submission, he was only a fingers length from the ropes.
"I should have softened him up some more, maybe dragged him into the middle of the ring. That would have been the match right there!"
"Don't beat yourself up Chris, you did win this match..."
He didn't get it. He never could unless he actually got in the ring during a real match.
"It's about pride Manny...especially when two submission specialists are going at it. It's like a game of chess and we want nothing more to find that move that allows us to make our opponents beg for mercy!"
I turned my attention back to the screen just in time to see Pat lift me up with a belly to back suplex and spiking me on my head by turning it into a pile driver. It was the first of two Sunday Morning Hangovers that he delivered to me. Seeing my head bounce off the mat instinctively makes me rub the top of my head.
"Ouch! That shit looks like it hurt! I'm surprised you didn't break your neck..."
"Yeah me too..."
You would have thought it did with the way I was rubbing at my neck. Manny got sucked into the flow of the match. He leaned over with his elbows down on the desk and his right hand cover his left right in front of his mouth.
"How long have you been watching this video anyways?"
"Since six..."
For a moment even I thought I was crazy. For almost six hours I've been watching the same match over and over again. But I got what I wanted out of it. I grinned as as the match came to close by me nearly breaking Pats back over my knees with the Backiotomy and making the pinfall. Manny looked over and stared as I continued to smile at the television.
"Man you're border line obsessed with this dude."
"No Manny, it's not Pat that I'm obsessed with. It's getting that elusive first win in PURE wrestling. I'm lucky enough to be facing someone I know I can beat...I've done it before...I'm just looking to do it as efficiently as possible. People need to recognize that I'm for real and what they got last week was an anomaly. Time to get back on track...and I'll choke Pat Gordon Junior to death if it means turning things around."
"It's been what almost three months to the day?"
"The last time we faced off Patty, August nineteenth, two thousand thirteen. I remember it like it was yesterday! The semi-finals to the Canadian X Pro Heavyweight Championship Tournament. You thought for sure that you were going to be their inaugural champion. You were dead set on using that tournament as a platform to launch yourself as the new face of the Canadian wrestling scene. I won that tournament to become the first and only Heavyweight Champion in the promotions brief history!"
"The last time we faced I took you a bit lightly. To me you were nothing but some Indy punk who was trying to make a name for himself. Well in forty minutes and eighteen seconds you changed my opinion of you inside that ring. You gave it your all and it showed, no matter what I did to you, you refused to give up. You refused to go down without a valiant effort! Hell I nearly had to break you into two with the Backiotomy in order to keep down long enough for the ref to count three. You may not have won the match, but that night in Calgary, Alberta, Canada...you surely won over a nation of wrestling fans with the fight you gave me."
"Moments after our match you ran to Twitter and congratulated me, you called me an arrogant prick, and you admitted that no matter what you threw at me you were vastly outclassed! It takes a real man to admit when somebody is purely better than you! But I can't turn a blind eye to just how much I enjoyed our match..."
"At this point in my fruitful career, I could care less about championships. I'm solely looking for some good, tough, pure, competition! You gave me that in Canada and I thought it would only be fitting to give the fans of PURE Wrestling a taste of what wrestling should be like! Too many guys now a days get caught up in how many obscure championships they've won in promotions that don't exist anymore. Some guys are more concerned with endorsement deals and fat paychecks than perfecting their craft. There's not too many true warriors left in this sport, but you're one of them! "
"After our last meeting you left empty, thinking you could have done so much more. Any true warrior would be just as hard on themselves as you were. A fire burned inside you, hoping to get a chance at redemption. Well here it is! Here is your chance! We both lobbied for this match because we knew that it could potentially steal the show! And we both fed our own egos by demanding this to be a submission match, something neither of us were able to accomplish the last time...Now the fans get to win because Michael Callahan and Johnny Rebel realized it would be good for business!"
"We both pride ourselves in our abilities to make our opponents tap for mercy. A feeling that really can fuel a man's competitive drive. There's no better way to prove your dominance in our industry than by making your opponent squeal and squirm until they can't take it anymore! When you break a person down, when you destroy their will to continue, it's like a drug. It's a fix that I know I need to have. Like a fiend, I itch for the weight of a humans limp body to be wrapped in my arms. Last time neither of us were able to get it done. That only pushes me even more now. I don't care if I snap your neck or choke the life out of you, YOU WILL TAP! It's nothing personal Patty. I genuinely like you. But I can't afford to lose this match. You will tap, and you're quest for retribution is going to come up just short..."
"My back is against the wall...I already lost my debut by getting caught in a knee bar leg lock. Aubrey J. Parker is continuing right where she left off in APW. It was either tap or let her ruin my knee. But now I'm faced with a scenario of tapping two weeks straight. I can't allow that! I won't allow that! It's not a possibility for me! It would be bad enough to start off losing my first two matches. Tapping out the first two? There may be no rebounding from that! After this match Patty, you get to go back to Pro-Wrestling Frontier, hopefully drawing more fans to your product. Me, I have to stay here in Seattle and face the consequences of our battle. Losing is not an option for me Patty...You're going to have to rip my shoulder out and break my back with your Pat Lock II if you want to win this match!"
"I can't be held responsible for any damage I do to you in the ring. For me it's do or die! I need to reassert myself into the conversation as to who the best PURE has to offer is. It starts on Monday with a submission victory over one of the hardest working men in the wrestling world."
"Best of luck Pat, if you thought I was an insurmountable challenge the last time...you've got a long night ahead of you..."
"To a girl by submission nonetheless..."
"What a pathetic way to make a first impression. There I was controlling the flow for the majority of the match and I got caught in a glorified kneebar. Fuck my life!"
"There's no mulligans allowed in the wrestling world. I had my chance to elevate myself to the top of this roster and I failed miserably. I'm not satisfied with that debut. All the praise in the world won't erase the blemish that now sits on my record. All the atta boys, although well intended, are like little daggers being shoved in my back."
"Back to the drawing board. Back to square one."
"In this weeks showcase match against Pat Gordon Junior, from Pro-Frontier Wrestling. In a submission match!"
"Talk about a must win. Tapping out two weeks in a row? Not going to happen!"
Monday.November 11th.2013
Key Arena.Seattle.Washington
11:45 PM PST
I stood at the exit to the parking lot of the Key Arena with my hand pressed on the door. As much as I wanted to push it open and walk through, I couldn't. On the other side of the door was PURE wrestling fans waiting to get a glimpse of some of tonight's competitors. They were electric after a successful inaugural show. It could be felt through the concrete walls that separated us, and it froze me like a statue.
I dreaded the camera flashes, the endless signature requests, and the repetitive simplicities. The last thing I needed right now was some pimply teenager to tell me that I'll get 'em next time.
I nearly jumped as a hand pressed against my back, snapping me out of a trance. I spun around to see one of the arenas security guard nervously standing there in the typical duds: black muscle shirt with big white letters that spell security, black cargo pants, and black boots.
"Mr. Madison, if you don't mind...you're blocking the exit and some of the crew would like to leave."
I back peddled out of the way, clearing a path for the unsung hero's who made tonight's production possible. The door swung open and they were instantly met with the flickering lights from a mixture of cameras and cell phones. They blocked the blinding flashes with the back side of their hands as they tried to cover their eyes. Their sudden dismay was vocalized as the mob of one hundred or so PURE Wrestling groupies screeched, "UGH"!
"You know they're not going to leave until they think all of the wrestlers have left..."
"Yeah I know...thanks captain obvious!"
I had almost built up enough gall to walk out there, tell them to fuck off, and what right to my waiting rental car. That is until I heard another pocket of people approaching from behind. All of the nights referee's were quickly approaching and I wasn't about to hold them up. I stepped aside once more, clearing the path between them and the fans impending disappointment. Once again as the door opened they were met with blinding flashes of light and the sweet sound of despair.
"You know you have nothing to be ashamed about. You put on a hell of a performance. You're one tough son of a bitch!"
Great! Everything I was trying to avoid by dodging the fans was now right in front of me in the form of a muscle-bound meathead who's sole responsibility in his pitiful existence is to make sure no one enters a door without proper authorization.
"Thanks skippy..."
"Skippy?"
"Yeah...Did I stutter? I think I can do my job so much better now just because I have your vote of confidence! It's a real rush! Like a shot of adrenaline has just been pumped through my veins!"
"Really?"
His stupidity baffled me. I knew it didn't take a genius to do his job, but come on now. Was he really that gullible? I shook my head from left to right while uncomfortably staring through him.
"No, not really..."
His shoulders immediately slumped down as he sat on a steel folding chair which rested against the wall. He crossed his arms and pouted like a child after being ridiculed. I actually felt bad for the guy.
"Listen big guy, don't take any offense to what I said. I just don't need to be motivated by someone who has the responsibility of a door lock..."
Damn it, that slipped out naturally. I really need to work on how I talk to others.
"Sorry...guess I'll be going now..."
I walked passed him and put my hand back on the door. I took a deep breath before finally shoving it open. I was met by instant applause from the fans. They break out with a chant of my last name and I was taken back. Everything that I dreaded actually made me come to realize that even in defeat, I gave the fans a match worth the price of admission! I signed autographs and posed for pictures, giving the fans the experience they were waiting in the parking lot for! Just as I was able make it to the end of the crowd one of the teenage fans yelled out to me.
"Are the rumors true? Are you and Pat Gordon Junior having a rematch next week?"
I stopped in my tracks and turned around as the masses waited to hear my response. I scanned the crowd and looked at the the doe-eyed fans who were eating up every slight movement of mine. I baited them in with slight movements of my lips, giving them the impression I was about to answer them. After having my fill I treated them to what they wanted to hear...
"Next Monday night, in a submission match, Pat Gordon Junior gets his dream rematch...I hope he's ready, I know I will be!"
Wednesday.November 13th.2013
Long Island.New York
11:30 AM EST
It was a normal day at my Warehouse Training Facility. The massive space was filled with eager men and women whom have traveled from all corners of the world to get a chance to train with my brother and I. The facility was flourishing but this week I just couldn't find a way to pry myself away from the office to roll with the trainees. At the moment I had more pressing matters than showing someone the proper way to take a bump without destroying your back.
My office was situated in the far right corner of the building. A window had been added to the wall which allowed me to see what was happening in my training facility. But today I couldn't be bothered. I had a forty two inch television secured to the wall and my eyes were glued. Playing across the high definition screen was a recording of my match with Pat Gordon Junior at Canadian X Pro's Calgary show. The action was ferocious as we battled back and forth, looking for that slight opening that would allow us to scoop up the victory.
I had been playing the recording all morning, scouting for opening that I may have missed in the heat of the moment. I tensed up with every high impact bump and jumped from my chair with every successful piece of offense. There was no way I was going to take Pat Gordon Junior lightly again. I needed a more dominating performance and I was just trying to pick out my opponents weaknesses that were going to skyrocket me to a victory!
A knock at the door interrupted my scouting session. I pressed pause on the remote which froze the DVD and rose to my feet. I tried to look trough the window to see who was knocking at the door but was unable to get a glimpse. I shuffled my way to the office door and flung it open.
"What!"
I yelled before realizing that it was my long time training partner and close friend, Manny Hernandez. He ushered himself into the office and decided to make himself comfortable in my chair behind my large oak desk. I laughed at him as he threw his feet up onto the desk and leaned back with his hands behind his head.
"Making yourself right at home huh?"
"Yeah you know I got all the pull in this place", he laughed before adjusting himself and sitting upright in the chair. "What are we watching?"
I looked up at the television and glared while responding, "my match against Pat Gordon Junior from three months ago..."
"Oh man, that match was sick. You mind if I watch with ya?"
I couldn't tell the kid no. He always goes well beyond expectations when helping me train with no reward. He wasn't trying to become a wrestler or professional fighter. This was just an outlet for him. His way of keeping clear of trouble. As long as he didn't interrupt my scouting I saw no harm in him allowing him to hang out in the office.
"You two about to square off again right?"
"Yeah, and I can't afford to lose..."
"You won last time, this should be easy breezy!"
I grabbed the remote and pressed play to resume the video. I sat on the chair which was positioned opposite my desk after pulling it to the side of the room. On the screen I scoop slammed Gordon hard onto the mat. I shook my head as the events unfolded. I had foolishly locked in the Peruvian Necktie too early in the math and too close to the ropes. I noticed when I shifted my weight to his side in order to synch in the submission, he was only a fingers length from the ropes.
"I should have softened him up some more, maybe dragged him into the middle of the ring. That would have been the match right there!"
"Don't beat yourself up Chris, you did win this match..."
He didn't get it. He never could unless he actually got in the ring during a real match.
"It's about pride Manny...especially when two submission specialists are going at it. It's like a game of chess and we want nothing more to find that move that allows us to make our opponents beg for mercy!"
I turned my attention back to the screen just in time to see Pat lift me up with a belly to back suplex and spiking me on my head by turning it into a pile driver. It was the first of two Sunday Morning Hangovers that he delivered to me. Seeing my head bounce off the mat instinctively makes me rub the top of my head.
"Ouch! That shit looks like it hurt! I'm surprised you didn't break your neck..."
"Yeah me too..."
You would have thought it did with the way I was rubbing at my neck. Manny got sucked into the flow of the match. He leaned over with his elbows down on the desk and his right hand cover his left right in front of his mouth.
"How long have you been watching this video anyways?"
"Since six..."
For a moment even I thought I was crazy. For almost six hours I've been watching the same match over and over again. But I got what I wanted out of it. I grinned as as the match came to close by me nearly breaking Pats back over my knees with the Backiotomy and making the pinfall. Manny looked over and stared as I continued to smile at the television.
"Man you're border line obsessed with this dude."
"No Manny, it's not Pat that I'm obsessed with. It's getting that elusive first win in PURE wrestling. I'm lucky enough to be facing someone I know I can beat...I've done it before...I'm just looking to do it as efficiently as possible. People need to recognize that I'm for real and what they got last week was an anomaly. Time to get back on track...and I'll choke Pat Gordon Junior to death if it means turning things around."
_________________________________
"It's been what almost three months to the day?"
"The last time we faced off Patty, August nineteenth, two thousand thirteen. I remember it like it was yesterday! The semi-finals to the Canadian X Pro Heavyweight Championship Tournament. You thought for sure that you were going to be their inaugural champion. You were dead set on using that tournament as a platform to launch yourself as the new face of the Canadian wrestling scene. I won that tournament to become the first and only Heavyweight Champion in the promotions brief history!"
"The last time we faced I took you a bit lightly. To me you were nothing but some Indy punk who was trying to make a name for himself. Well in forty minutes and eighteen seconds you changed my opinion of you inside that ring. You gave it your all and it showed, no matter what I did to you, you refused to give up. You refused to go down without a valiant effort! Hell I nearly had to break you into two with the Backiotomy in order to keep down long enough for the ref to count three. You may not have won the match, but that night in Calgary, Alberta, Canada...you surely won over a nation of wrestling fans with the fight you gave me."
"Moments after our match you ran to Twitter and congratulated me, you called me an arrogant prick, and you admitted that no matter what you threw at me you were vastly outclassed! It takes a real man to admit when somebody is purely better than you! But I can't turn a blind eye to just how much I enjoyed our match..."
"At this point in my fruitful career, I could care less about championships. I'm solely looking for some good, tough, pure, competition! You gave me that in Canada and I thought it would only be fitting to give the fans of PURE Wrestling a taste of what wrestling should be like! Too many guys now a days get caught up in how many obscure championships they've won in promotions that don't exist anymore. Some guys are more concerned with endorsement deals and fat paychecks than perfecting their craft. There's not too many true warriors left in this sport, but you're one of them! "
"After our last meeting you left empty, thinking you could have done so much more. Any true warrior would be just as hard on themselves as you were. A fire burned inside you, hoping to get a chance at redemption. Well here it is! Here is your chance! We both lobbied for this match because we knew that it could potentially steal the show! And we both fed our own egos by demanding this to be a submission match, something neither of us were able to accomplish the last time...Now the fans get to win because Michael Callahan and Johnny Rebel realized it would be good for business!"
"We both pride ourselves in our abilities to make our opponents tap for mercy. A feeling that really can fuel a man's competitive drive. There's no better way to prove your dominance in our industry than by making your opponent squeal and squirm until they can't take it anymore! When you break a person down, when you destroy their will to continue, it's like a drug. It's a fix that I know I need to have. Like a fiend, I itch for the weight of a humans limp body to be wrapped in my arms. Last time neither of us were able to get it done. That only pushes me even more now. I don't care if I snap your neck or choke the life out of you, YOU WILL TAP! It's nothing personal Patty. I genuinely like you. But I can't afford to lose this match. You will tap, and you're quest for retribution is going to come up just short..."
"My back is against the wall...I already lost my debut by getting caught in a knee bar leg lock. Aubrey J. Parker is continuing right where she left off in APW. It was either tap or let her ruin my knee. But now I'm faced with a scenario of tapping two weeks straight. I can't allow that! I won't allow that! It's not a possibility for me! It would be bad enough to start off losing my first two matches. Tapping out the first two? There may be no rebounding from that! After this match Patty, you get to go back to Pro-Wrestling Frontier, hopefully drawing more fans to your product. Me, I have to stay here in Seattle and face the consequences of our battle. Losing is not an option for me Patty...You're going to have to rip my shoulder out and break my back with your Pat Lock II if you want to win this match!"
"I can't be held responsible for any damage I do to you in the ring. For me it's do or die! I need to reassert myself into the conversation as to who the best PURE has to offer is. It starts on Monday with a submission victory over one of the hardest working men in the wrestling world."
"Best of luck Pat, if you thought I was an insurmountable challenge the last time...you've got a long night ahead of you..."
