Wrestlefest II

[Bob Pooler]

Roxbury, Massachusetts

There are few things in this world that suck more than running; unfortunately running in the rain is one of those things. With the intense cold that had been gripping the Northeast, today was pegged to be the first day where the thermometer could possibly rise not just above freeing, but maybe even reach fifty degrees. The snow had all but been washed away over the course of the last night’s storm but the temperature hadn’t risen enough yet to coax most people out of their warm houses. The cold didn’t really mater though; not to him anyway. See, most people assume that Canada is nothing but polar bears and maple syrup, so for someone who grew up and experienced their harsh winters he was used to the feeling; didn’t mean he liked it any more than the next guy though. Even though it was still raining, he wasn’t going to miss a chance to get outside and pound the pavement. Running was cathartic and he had a lot on his mind. He’d only ben a recent addition to FGA but was already signed up for an Inter-Promotional event; Wrestlefest or something like that. Name not-withstanding, he was in for an interesting evening to say the least. He was scheduled to go up against three other guys from various other companies with a shot at walking out at the end of the night with a chance to go up against the reigning UWL International champion … who just happened to ALSO work in FGA; small world eh?

Well, Wednesday was supposed to be the warmest day of the week with a possible storm coming in as early as Friday morning bringing more of the white stuff with it. There’s just only so much time a person can stand being cooped up inside a gym working out. Sometimes you just need to feel the wind in your face, hear the sounds of the world as they pass by and experience life beyond dumbbells and musty locker rooms. Today also represented an opportunity for him to get out there and see some opponents from outside his little circle. He’d been in this game a long time, and when he started there weren’t interconnected companies working together and putting on great shows. Everyone did their own thing and thought of each other as no more than rivals trying to steal a piece of their bottom line. Things were certainly different now a days, but Wrestle-whatever would be his first time working with other companies and seeing just who “the best of the best” were.

“On your left!”

A man jogging and pushing a double stroller turns his head, looking over his shoulder, and glares as he begins running up behind him

“…”

Apparently Mr. Mom wasn’t interested in getting passed so he begins to speed up. Bob slows his pace, obviously puzzled. Picking up the pace again, coming up to the man’s left elbow this time before announcing himself.

“Cute kids … ON YOUR LEFT!”

The man takes off in a sprint, the stroller wobbling a bit as he loses control. One of the children starts to cry while the other tells yells out for mommy. Bob shakes his head, powers forward and gets neck and neck with the man. He throws him a quick double thumbs up before sprinting past and extending his lead. Before getting to far ahead he manages to turn around and run backwards, shouting back at the winded man:

”Nice try Nancy. We should do this again when you aren’t wearing that skirt!”

Coming to a rather busy intersection and not wanting to interrupt his jog, he continues to run in place while waiting for his cue to cross the street. From a distance behind him, he can hear the sound of thumping base. Few things in this world were more idiotic, in his opinion, than listening to loud rap music in some piece of shit Honda Civic equipped with authentic rusty doors, a homemade spoiler, and chrome rims. He didn’t need to turn around to know that the occupants of the Civic were staring at him. He stopped jogging as he heard the sound of the window being rolled down … yeah, like by hand.

“Think you’re a tough guy in your little running shorts esse?”

He doesn’t acknowledge the question nor the individual who asked it.

“Yeah, that’s right bitch … you heard me.”

The giggles coming from the backseat make it pretty clear that these aren’t the typical Roxbury clientele. So with relative assuredness, and a fair amount of stupidity, Bob turns around with a big smile on his face. One look tells him everything he needs to know about these guys. First of all they can’t be more than sixteen, hell one of ‘em in the backseat as his backpack on his lap.

”You idiots should have just gone to school today.”

They don’t hear him clearly and the driver, braces gleaming on his teeth, shouts back.

”What was that bitch?”

”I said ‘sweet ride’! Shame about your mirror though.”

The driver looks over at his side mirror, which looks completely fine to him.

“Mirror?”

With that, Bob takes one big step and hops into the air, bringing his hands and full body weight down on top of the driver’s side mirror snapping it cleanly from the side of the car. The look of horror on the face of the driver was everything he’d hoped it would be. The crosswalk light suddenly lit up, followed closely by the beeping noise indicating he was supposed to cross. Without missing a beat, he crossed the street and jogged into the entrance of the park. From behind him he could hear the sound of car horns blaring, no doubt at the poor driver of the Civic who was still too dumbfounded to drive.

It was a pretty appropriate description for how he’d been feeling himself lately. In the course of only a few short months he’d gone from sitting on the board of directors for what could have been one of the most lucrative wrestling organizations he’d ever seen. But in the amount of time it took most people to get their IRS rebate check, his company was infected by cancerous talent and quickly went under. Here he was, a short month removed from clearing out his office, working for what could easily be called an Indy League, grass roots kind of place. To someone who has performed in front of sold out stadiums, working in what equates to an elementary cafetorium can feel like the minor leagues. Needless to say, it’s been a humbling experience to say the least; but its made him stronger. Just the fact that he hadn’t wrestled in an extended period of time meant that there was going to be a pretty big learning curve. He was batting five hundred when he made the decision to sign up for this inter federation … thing. His body had been screaming at him for the past few weeks and he certainly didn’t need to be doing this to himself, but his stubbornness forbade him from saying no.

“Jesus Christ …”

The sky had suddenly begun growing dark and a cold breeze picked up. He was still a good ways away from home and there was no outrunning the storm that was about to hit. Running in the rain just went from merely sucking, to possibly being life threatening. As the dark clouds overhead looked ready to open wide a large flash of lightning lit up the darkened area. The clap of thunder jolted him and caused his pace to quicken from a jog to a run. As his feet pounded against the pavement he felt the small raindrops quickly become larger and more forceful.

While the puddles on the ground were unavoidable, so too was the path his opponents were facing going into this match. His actions, the simply fact that he’d signed up to take part in this show, proved that he was no longer content sitting by and just letting everyone else dictate his direction … his fate. He couldn’t control the failure of his last venture, he couldn’t control the feeling of being a big fish in an ever shrinking pond, he sure as hell couldn’t control knowing that desire, that need to compete, to excel, to be the guy at the top of the mountain. He couldn’t control much, but this match … this was something that was well within his realm of control.

As the rain continued to pound down on him a smile broke across his face. Sure running in the rain sucked, but in a few short days he would be raining on someone else’s day; and that would enough to bring a smile to anyone’s face!

”Here we go! The first annual edition of Wrestlefest is a few mere days away and UWL stands at a crossroad. The call went out to all companies falling under their umbrella for participants. Wouldn’t you know it, with all these companies the best showing is coming from one of their newest acquisitions. So where are these fabled ‘original four’ that I keep hearing about. The companies that helped put UWL on the map are nowhere to be found for Wrestlefest, instead it’s going to be the Frontier Grappling Arts show … and what a show it will be. Sure, sure, there actually are going to be talent representing a few other companies here this weekend, but FGA outnumbers each one of these other places two to one. Hands down FGA knows that a place like UWL can make or break you by getting you the necessary camera time that some of us just don’t have the budget for. So we’re here in force and we’re going to be showing some of these PWX, DERP and AWF fans that you don’t need a network television deal or fancy Pay-Per-Views to have the best talent on the market.

Big words coming from one of the more ‘Indy’ of the leagues here, I know. But their coming from a guy who has been around the block a few times; there’s more than a little bit of wear and tear on these tires if you know what I mean. I’ve been part of the big league companies before. You know the ones, the usually don’t last more than a few years because they over inflate their rosters only to struggle when it comes to getting everyone ring time … and paychecks. Basically, if you aren’t one of the chosen few in these places, and thankfully I worked hard enough to find myself in that position, you get buried opening shows and wasting your career away being the King of House Shows.

Then there are the middle of the road companies; the ones with a cult like following that for one reason or another always seem like they’re on the brink of closing, but never actually do. PWX is like that. Every time I turned around for years that place seemed to be losing talent left and right to the bigger markets. But, thanks to their following, every time one of their roster would leave … someone new would fill that void. So not only are they one of the oldest companies still around, they have fresh faces keeping their product new and exciting for the fans.

But then … then there are those companies that are so small they almost feel mysterious; spoken about only in hushes voices as though if the secret of their existence got out, it would be like pulling back the curtain on the Great and Powerful Oz! These companies don’t have the kind of funds needed to make that jump to the next tier, but they make up for a lack of pyrotechnics and production equipment with some of the most hard working and dedicated talent to ever step foot inside a ring. These men and women are the ones who aren’t doing it for the paycheck, thankfully, but doing it because they love doing what they do.

So I guess it's finally crunch time eh? Time to dispense with the usual cliché jokes about my opponents? Sometimes it’s too easy but this week … this match, it’s proven to be more difficult than I anticipated. I guess I hadn’t read the match ups very closely until earlier this week because I didn’t notice that this International Title contendership match is going to be one big PWX clusterfuck with me right smack dab in the middle. I’ve got some history with the boys over in Pro Wrestling X; see, it wasn’t too long ago that I was one of those ‘fresh faces’ that swooped in to fill an empty seat left by one of their members. And I filled it pretty well too, quickly becoming their Hybrid champion before pulling a disappearing act of my own. It’s not something that I’m proud of, but it’s a mistake that I’m man enough to admit that I made.

So aside from burning a few bridges over there, my time in PWX was pretty good. Catching up with a few familiar faces, making new friends and pissing off a few more; needless to say, there probably weren’t any tears when I stopped picking up my phone. So, any cheap shots that my opponents want to take at me this week will have a little merit to them, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be trying to slink into the shadows of this match. See, I can handle insults, jabs, whatever they throw at me, no worries. I’ve heard worse and, frankly, looking at what I had to work with as Hybrid champion I kinda felt sorry. It was almost taking advantage of them by holding that title. There was no way that I would have lost it fair and square, not to the level of talent calling that division home at the time.

The fact is, my opponents, PWX, hell … the entirety of UWL doesn’t have to like me to respect me. I'm really starting to dislike this notion that everyone has to get along all the time. How do you expect to gather a group of guys and gals from multiple companies, all with their own egos already, and throw them together without seeing a little friction? I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the main target this weekend seeing as how its three PWX versus little ol’ me. But I wouldn’t put it past Hollywood to not want either of his coworkers walking away with a victory.

I’ve been cutting my teeth in FGA for a few weeks now, shaking off the ring rust and trying to get back into a position where I was before hanging up the boots for a front office job. I’ve made a living making some of the best and brightest eat their words week after week. But it looks like this weekend humble pie with a side of crow is going to be served Family Style as you three take a seat, grab your forks and knives and dig in; Bon appetite mon ami.

I’m Bob Pooler ... what will I do next ? ”