Post by Patrick Jones on Jun 9, 2014 22:53:54 GMT -6
As Vance had left in Bruce’s car, I could only watch and shake my head. My seat for the show had been across the ring from where the Cadillac had been parked by the guardrail. Blue Suede Bruce’s night had certainly not gone to plan. He had won his match, but it had been a victory by disqualification when Vance LaRoc utilized a low blow. The misfortune had continued after the bell. His guitar had been defiled, Cadillac Jack had been knocked unconscious, and their ride had been stolen.
Personally, I feel bad for the man. Being taken advantage of is always infuriating and painful. In fact, that kind of abuse is the reason that I had departed my former employer for VOW. However, my job this week is to wrestle Bruce. Sometimes business means you have to do things that are not exactly your first choice. Of course, I would rather step into the ring with someone like Vance who deserves to be taken down a peg, but in this business, you have to fight the man in the ring. Sometimes it is personal, but this week it should just be business unless Bruce decides to try some dastardly tactics in order to let some anger out.
“The arena is so much smaller than what you’re used to. Isn’t that weird?”
Smiling, I look over at Jenny. The two of us are sitting beside the Minnesota River enjoying a picnic dinner. One of the benefits of working for a smaller company is a much lighter promotional schedule. I do not have to zip from place to place to endorse VOW like I have for companies in the past.
“Yeah, it’s different, but so what? VOW is small, but every wrestler starts in similar places. Sure, the roster here is much better than what most beginners walk into for their first job, but it has that feel.”
She looks at me quizzically, so I have to continue.
“A feeling like…like today. Just sitting by the water and enjoying a beautiful day. There is no pressure. I won’t be facing lesser competition, but there is no giant corporate machine towering over you. Besides, Frei does not seem like the kinda guy to throw you out on the streets for one bad match.”
Jenny nods slowly before raising another question.
“But…people like Vance LaRoc…how is VOW any different?”
She raises a valid point. I had joined VOW to get away from a certain evil, but it certain appears that my attempts have failed miserably.
“I can’t get away from bad people. Especially in wrestling, I’ll always be surrounded by them. Most likely, there will be more of them than guys I can trust. It is just a fact of the business and of life. The difference is that here, the evil isn’t in charge. I am not working for evil and not lining the evil’s pockets. My conscience is clean, even if those around me cannot say the same.”
My female companion smiles at me. Her face looks relieved that I am able to work somewhere where I am not so tense and annoyed so much of the time.
“Well, you better stop just sitting here. Don’t you have some things to do before your match tomorrow?”
She is right. I did get to talk with a few guys last week. However, I had approached it like a spectator. Now, I should probably work out some details with production about my entrance and figure out the other details for tomorrow.
“Of course, Miss Details. Are you always going to think of every little thing?”
She nods and gets up, collecting the leftovers from the dinner. Sighing and smiling at how she never fails to miss the small things which I have had a habit of doing, I start to help her. The two of us round things up and take the short walk back to a small parking lot designed to accommodate people like us who want to enjoy some time beside the water. Luckily our hotel is near enough the Verizon Wireless Center that I can just park there and take the short walk over to the arena.
Walking through the back entrance, I semi-aimlessly wonder about to find where they have set up the production crew for the show. VOW’s budget and staff are much smaller than what I have worked with in years, but I am sure they are busy at work the day before show number four. As I wonder the halls, my thoughts go to the big jump I had just made.
I had given up a title shot to join VOW. Finally, my worth was being looked at by my last employer. I had immediately seen through the ruse though. There were no intentions of truly allowing me to show myself off as a top competitor. Instead, it was a stop-gap measure intended to tide the company over through a talent loss while hopefully keeping me around to be reverted back a role just out of the limelight.
Here? Who knows? Stefan Frei had made it clear in private and on the first edition of Breakthrough that no one in VOW had any sort of advantage on anyone else. Our pasts mean nothing. All that matters to him is what happens between the Visionaries in the ring.
As I round a corner, I find myself passing the curtain which leads out to the ring. Peeking through, I shake my head slightly. The Verizon Wireless Center seats about 5,000 people. A few months ago, I had competed before around 50,000 people in Rome. Some would suggest that represents a great fall in a business seen as entertainment.
As well as anyone, I know that fact to be true. Patrick Jones has always been a name associated with being fan orientated. My style may not have the flashy moves that some do. My personality may not be quite as flamboyant as men like Bobby Backdoor. My reputation may not carry the weight of Matt Slater. My musical ability certainly does not measure up to my opponent. Bruce certainly had the advantage over me in that department. Luckily, our match has no wacky stipulation which causes that fact to matter any.
Even without being the most this or that, I had maintained a following from the day I stepped into a ring for TEW through rough patches there and to that company folding. Then, when I stepped into the ring in Chicago, those people or others like them were there. The nervousness that hits me just before my music starts is a mixture of anxiousness to get in the ring and compete after waiting all week for it and anxiety over whether the sounds of “I Won’t Back Down” will be the only sound in the arena.
Being my first appearance for VOW, that feeling will likely be doubled, especially since Bruce has become such a fan favorite. I cannot blame the people for loving his infectious personality. He is a throwback of sorts in ways beyond his musical taste. The classic ride which Vance had stolen was proof of that fact. The Cadillac had been that of his brother and manager, the aptly named Cadillac Jack, but they are kindred spirits from days gone by. Bruce also represents the people in a way. He seems to have come to wrestling late. A 32 year old rookie from what I have seen and heard, he does not possess the stereotypical ripped physique people associate with wrestling.
Laughing slightly, I step back through the curtain shaking my head. Thinking like that could be dangerous. BSB is a likeable enough guy, but I still have to beat him this week. A rough start could make things difficult with such a talented roster that has only continued to grow. It seems that every day a new member is being added.
My walk continues as I search for whatever nook the AV team has been stuck into this week. As I pass a collection of props from other events in the arena, a mirror catches my eye. More importantly, the man in the mirror has my attention. Of course, it is only my reflection, but I had noticed something. My stride had a noticeable…swagger to it. It was not arrogance. Simply put, my stride was that of a man who had an enormous weight lifted off of his shoulders. Like someone who had been running in quicksand but had been freed, the steps showed that the load being carried was much easier to bear than what had been previously.
Carrying on, I finally find what I had been looking for since entering the building. A side-room has the door wide open to reveal walls of monitors with soundboards and other computers. A small staff of maybe 5 or 10 people is bustling about and chattering. Just as I make my move to interrupt, my phone buzzes. Sliding my finger across the screen, I reveal the just-received text message.
“Sickness may make a man stop working, but eventually he will be back. Did you miss me, Patty?”
The none-too-cryptic message makes me raise an eyebrow. After our latest encounter a month or so ago, it had seemed inevitable. However, I had imagined it was still a long time off from now. This text makes it seem much nearer. Would Frei hire a man with such an unstable history? Well, he had hired Tha Joka who had already proven he could takes things to a level well beyond what VOW represented as a company. Personally, I am not sure if I want the man around, but it would make sense for VOW to bring in another name well-recognized in wrestling.
Either way, the message seemed to imply that a return was not inevitable, so I could leave it be for now. For now, I had to handle a small matter more up the alley of my opponent for the week. Luckily, I just had to tell the crew when to play my music and give a few cues about volumes. If I had been required to play anything, well, the production department would likely kick me out. That would certainly give Blue Suede Bruce some extra confidence. Unfortunately, only one of us can hit a winning note on Breakthrough. Luckily for me, that note is in wrestling, not on the guitar, so Bruce may not be able to win again this week.
