Post by Seth Iser on Jun 11, 2016 20:04:52 GMT -6
In the world of wrestling, you often find yourself intertwined with someone. The names often just become associated with each other; it’s a never ending escape. And it isn’t the first time it’s happened in my own career. The scars on my body are proof of that. But how ironic it is that one man helps re-attach himself to me by evoking the name of the first person I was intertwined with? By just invoking two names he instigates an old pain from scars never fully healed just to try to inflict his own damage for past transgressions...we’re off in a position I’m all too familiar with: an old rival with an axe to grind and something to prove with the stakes all too high.
For the third time...Slater and I standing in the ring by ourselves. It gets the average man goose bumps...and it fills me with dread.
Why so much dread? Slater’s coming at me with the same envy I weaponized against him years ago. The envy and pride to be better than me. That is the price of having a successful career at anything...there is always a target on your back by those who want to surpass you. And it is honestly not any different to what I had done to him. I had made a career weaponizing an almost inhuman anger that drove me. Indeed as I said years ago...I would provoke unleashing that darker side that’s born within him. In...to use my own words, ‘expose the silver knight as a black one.’
I never knew how right I really was when he floored my manager and needled me into this match. And after years of abuse from heinous opponents he’s crossed over the years, myself included, he somehow held firm. Cracking he was on the inside...but presenting a firm mask in the face of all these waves...until one woman’s death sparked everything back in there. In a way...the same woman that came into his own life that tainted him...left one more tainting in order deep inside his own soul. And whether he realizes it or not...he’s become tainted again. And the end result?
It was worse than even I thought I’d predict.
Never have I under-estimated the man’s ability to be a great technical wrestler...but I severely underestimated his ability to scramble up someone’s mind. It took him a month but after enough prodding...enough verbal insults and a physical assault on a man who has foot in mouth syndrome, he put me in this position. The feeling of dread...a feeling so strong it makes my face paler than usual and just want me to puke just because I know for a fact something terrible is going to happen in this match.
The desire to go all out and the desire to make sure Slater’s own pride doesn’t kill him because of my own mistake...they conflict...and that’s the source. If I don’t go all out...I know for a fact he’ll get everything he ever wanted and that’s a cheap redemption through callus means. And the code of wrestling can’t allow that. But if I do...it’s another violation of the code because there’s a damn good chance one more bad drop on that neck...the same neck injury I caused three years ago now and boom. We’ve got no more Matthew Slater gracing us in the wrestling ring.
And that’d be my fault and mine alone.
There’s even more that’s eating away at me. I don’t know if the audience has fully noticed Slater’s change or not but they’ve certainly embraced it. Everytime he does something heinous, profane, and questionable...the people have given him a free pass under the principle of he’s had a history of doing so much good that you can overlook the bad things. They’ve already defined him as right, ignoring everything that’s wrong...even though I could’ve done as much wrong as him by retaliating.
...but I didn’t and I got vilified for it.
The heartbreaking part of that is when my daughter saw all of this and asked why a bunch of people were supporting someone who's turned into a bully over someone who does the right thing? And...when you’re her age...you can’t give her the proper answer as a parent but I did make a promise to her. A very simple one...and that’s I have to vanquish Slater regardless of the cost...and find a way to live with the aftermath. It isn’t just my own pride on the line either. No...it’s my family name...and the standards of the industry that both Matt and I have spent years now trying to uphold in our own ways.
He who hesitates loses forever and I can’t think that way because when someone who has his technical skills is also armed with a level of mindgames I didn’t know he possessed; you have to watch your guard. And through all the horrible things both of us have done to one another in that squared circle the core of it all started out of jealousy. And both of us have it for the other. He wishes now to be in the stable position mentally that I’ve been at the last year or so. And I’ve always desired the level of admiration and respect his name carries.
Above all: Both of us want to be known as superior to the other.
When Slater looks at all the things he’s accomplished in the wrestling industry, I know for a damn fact that it eats away at him every night of his life that he’s never scored a pinfall or submission over me in any of our meetings thus far. Just like there’s that pull in the darkest part of my own psyche that’s in there when I don’t get the acclaim he’s gotten despite everything I’ve ever accomplished. And the person who loses this particular match...will feel absolutely hollow inside that everything they ever accomplished...will mean nothing because they aren’t better than the other.
And in my heart I still believe to be a better all around professional wrestler than Matt Slater.
So while my feelings are intertwined on so many levels...he’s got to learn how to deal with that fact after Fate of the Gods. In his mind there is an asterisk on both of my victories over him. There won’t be on this one. I’ll make sure there’s no doubt. I hope he survives though...otherwise it’s yet another thing I’ll have to carry to the grave. Yet another horrible thing to be judged for in the history books until the end of time.
It is the fate...of a professional wrestler. I accept this.
...for your sake Matt, you might SAY you have accepted it but you better have accepted everything of what this particular match entails. What happens to you...it’s just as much your doing as it is mine. I didn’t want this but on so many levels there isn’t a choice now.
Otherwise you become the wallowing corpse that I was for the first few years of my career.
I know these words cut right to the bone Matt. Just like my daughter's words to me when they asked why the people acted the way they did the last few times we were face to face. And you understand perfectly why those words ring so strongly.
We are two sides of the same coin. Forever linked in the Professional Wrestling Industry…
The streak of hottest months in the history of the planet in a row continues with another scorching afternoon. The sun beats down over the city of Morgantown as life of a wrestler has me back at home at the moment to do a rare obligation that I wanted to do; it has added importance that said obligation is close to home for me. It is the matter of telling the truth of what opportunities a young man or woman has in this world and if the company attaches its own initials to your own personal appearance, like VOW does in this case, there’s a level of professionalism required. This is part of the professional aspect of professional wrestling that we all tend to forget.
And the good part for those kids...they’ll get a discounted meal at Buffalo Wild Wings even if they don’t like my speech. It’s like bribing with food the way oil has bribed our government and helped create the heat mess that’s affecting the world today.
The wind gives temporary relief to this heatwave as it makes my long black hair go in various directions and even a couple of locks just slapping me. The older you get, the harder the long hair is to maintain as it’s also a touch thinner than it was years ago. I brush it away from my eyes and just look around at home just for a brief moment and look around at the old Mongolian stadium I used to play high school football in for four years and think...this was a little over eighteen years ago now.
I’m twice the age as these graduating students…
I can see the parents have already half filled this old little stadium as I have my arms crossed. It’ll be a both happy and sad feeling all the same when it’s my turn to be the parent...watching my own kid make her trip in her gown ready to graduate. That might still be years away, but years always get faster when you get older. And that’d be more important than my own professional wrestling legacy...doing right by your kin. The wrestling career is very important to me; the life of a parent and being able to provide for my daughter is fair greater. And seeing her graduate...that’d be an unreal moment.
Just the day I’m chased out of the industry I hope I retain enough of my health to see that happen. I know my career will end tragically on some level when one of these guys with a wild hair up their ass hits THAT shot to end it. I don’t know when or where but it’s inevitable. It happens to us all.
There are a line of seats in the stadium where the kids about to receive their diplomas are going to sit to listen to all the usual speal. I’m sure per usual that they’ll have those who have the highest grades speak in their rehearsed speeches and I’m sure that they’re more nervous and excited both than they’ve ever been. They’re also naive to much of how the world does work as well and have to learn on their own...because the school system isn’t at it's best to prepare these kids. And that’s not going to make me popular when I mention that part in my message to these kids.
“Seth.” I hear a gruff old voice call.
“Hm…” I turn with my eyebrows raised, “Oh…”
Old principle Wilson’s gruff call is unmistakable even at his advancing years. Even in the heat, he also has taken the professional look of a suit and tie; the brown and white combination of suit being his standard go to. He approaches from the back row of seats behind the students though he’ll spend most of his time standing once the kids start getting their diplomas. He takes a moment to inspect the black and blue pinstriped suit variant I’ve come to wear very often with the blue tie to compliment the whole look. With a smirk, he extends out his burly hand and as soon as I reciprocate, he tries to squeeze my right hand as hard as he can in that handshake of his as possible. The joys of having a great right handed punch also means great strength in that hand.
“Firm handshake.” he declares, “Same as always.”
“I am professional wrestler and if I didn’t blow my knee out...a collegiate level football player.” I reply coyly.
“A perfectionist?” he mutters while eyeballing me up and down, “Jesus christ, kid. You’re lighter than you ever were as a football player.”
“Different sport, different body. Plus it’s easier to carry less weight on bad wheels.” I shrug in a nonchalant manner, “Simple logic. You know this since before you were a principle you also were a high school coach for multiple sports. You sure liked to run us like damn dogs though.”
“Eh, you kids handled it fine,” he barks up a brief laugh.
I shake my head and still remember the instances we were worked into the ground in this heat to the point where we were all puking and laying down on the ground with injuries. The coaches didn’t stop the drill...they just moved it to not step over the injured player. We had that occurrence happen multiple times. I can feel my pale expression go...well paler at that grotesque memory. And then when I mentioned it to my insane fundamentalist parents...well...I got another beating. Even though God loved me.
...I’m beginning to think my life is more screwed up than I thought it was…
“So many parents…” I hear the principle mutter to himself as he looks out there, “I still get goosebumps for the kids.”
“My parents never were at mine…” I blankly reply.
“Don’t tell me they put their relationship with the bible before you…” he raises his eyebrow while letting out a nervous laugh.
I just glare at him for a second before he realizes I'm not making a joke; it is what actually happened. Principal Wilson just looks at me almost horrified, the sweat dripping down his face not so much from the heat but more from the shock and horror of where the conversation is going. As this brief silence goes on and I catch the kids starting to come in for graduation, I just gather myself a little. This memory hasn’t exactly aged well. I still remember the smell of liquor that should’ve persuaded me from ever going down that path to begin with. I still remember the bloody bible on the floor. And good God...the day before graduation on my knee brace, I still remember hobbling over to the gun after an intense day of school and ACL rehab. And I just shut my eyes to give the truthful answer.
“They did. They, in their minds, went to see him by committing suicide. I guess to them their heaven is better than the hell I was. And don’t tell me otherwise because even if I had normal parents, I probably would’ve been a wild hell child to some level.” I answer, “So no...I truthfully don’t have a full idea what the kids and parents felt based on my own experience. But I can guess a little.”
I don’t know if the elder principle is more horrified at the explanation of my graduation circumstances or that I was able to say it looking calm. In the course of our conversation I see the kids filling up the steel chairs near the wooden podium that’s directly on the fifty yard line of this old football stadium. It isn’t the same thrill as performing in a filled stadium with fans hoping for a desired result...no, I can feel the joy in many of their places and some sadness as their kids have grown up in that crowd.
“Let’s just hope none of them turn out like me…” I mutter out loud.
I look for my seat among the three in the back row as for the moment I think I’ve spooked the Principle out of any more conversation as a swooping gust of wind blows my black hair everywhere to at least give a brief breather from this hideous heat. The middle seat of three is mine and I just lean back staring from afar with many of these thoughts while the opening speaker, whoever it may be, is about to begin her speech. But I’m not really focusing on it.
My mind is dwelling on how much different life could’ve been in many aspects.
There might be a day where I might not have become one of the most ostracized figures in the country, yet alone wrestling. May not have even become a wrestler and helped create the state of affairs that’s going on in the industry. The same damn thing Slater shortsightedly only points me out as the only example in the world in that. But what’s done is done now in many regards. I can only do what I can to unwind the damage and maybe another step of that...is to even let this speech get through to one person of this...two hundred or so graduating class.
Nobody ever said I had a luxurious high school either in terms of raw numbers.
“But…” I hear the woman’s voice booming in a little louder, “Before the students take the stage proud and all...I’m proud that we have a home state, and even former graduate that has come back to give us some words for us all. So please welcome from the class of nineteen ninety-eight...Seth Iser!”
I take my stand as I hear some elements of polite applause from those who don’t follow or like the wrestling industry. There are some louder cheers from the home audience who is far more receptive to me than anywhere in the world. And as always...there are those who will never forgive me and I can feel their daggers even from here. They aren’t booing because that’s an element of disrespect when it’s meant to be about the kids graduating...but even if they acted hostile...there’s no way I’d put the VOW brand in danger by doing something rash or stupid.
The woman, about a good foot shorter than I am, passes by and her cold blue eyes reflect her cold and distant demeanor toward me. I take it she falls under the camp that doesn’t like me in any way. As I get closer to the podium I can feel everyone looking at me now and there’s a different level of tension there. This is much different than having to do radio or even television appearances. Plus as much as I’m representing the company to do well in environments like this…
I’m representing myself here.
I calmly adjust the microphone up on its stand a couple of notches since I’m taller than the average person and just see all the curious eyes and feel even more. And I glance down and see that the woman in her exit had forgotten to take her speech away.
“I guess I’m not TOO far off from high school. I come in with no notes and about ready to wing it like I did in the tests back in the day.” I grit my teeth forcing a smile.
There’s some courteous laughs from everyone at that horrible joke that at least cut the tension of some of those stares that I felt. But again, the attention is all on me now.
“For those who don’t know, I’ll give a brief introduction. My name is Seth Iser and I am indeed a professional wrestler. Currently employed by Visionaries of Wrestling and I was asked to talk to everyone here about what graduation means. I promise not to take up too much time because it’s too hot to ramble on forever and those black gowns don’t help with heat.” I just calmly continue, “But what DOES graduation mean? To tell the truth there isn’t a concrete answer to that if you want the honest truth. For some of us we look at it as a highlight. To others, it’s merely a step. But the reality of after graduation differs for everyone you know.”
The looks of curiosity have vanished already and I can feel the air in the audience on both sides. There’s some who are very interested in what I’m about to say and I know there’s those who are just going to have these ears go in one ear and out the other. It’s a shame you can’t reach them all but that in itself is life. No two people are the same. No two cases ever the same. Just thankfully in this case...my words are what’s being used and not my fists.
“There are many of us that are going off to college and unfortunately are going to be subjected to record amount of debt. And the details of learning how to get a loan just to get through and add to said debt. There’s also learning how the country works on any level...which I wish we could invest more time in educating everyone about…” I pause before frowning...not wanting to cut too deep on our education spending but enough to get the message across, “But now above everything else...we learn more about what we’re about to become.”
I can hear some mutterings from the student section to my right and it isn’t all pretty. There’s even some mutterings from those deep in the education system who don’t appreciate me bringing up an elephant in the room that had to be brought up. The sweat is pouring down my face as the sun just beats down on me. The emotion is starting to kick in and there is a little that can be safely let out without going overboard.
“The only thing that dictates what we become is time, our own effort, and some luck. And I’ll be the first to admit to everyone that the path I took after high school wasn’t filled with sunshine and rainbows. While some people are going to enjoy the party life and are capable social butterflies...there’s the other person whose introverted and prefers to keep to themselves and doesn’t exactly fit in with the norm.” I growl, the intensity in my voice picking up, “There IS no such thing as a norm. No two people are the same and no two actions are defined. Meaning normal is a thing we made up.”
Now I’m getting more gasps when I throw shade at the word normal, but not everyone realizes the damage the word ‘normal’ has caused in life. They always called my parents normal for example...but I don’t think anybody who truly knew everything would ever throw that word around if that’s what they want their normal to be. But even with all that inner rage going...I can’t lose control here. I take a deep breath...and maintain composure. With a nod, I know what needs to be said here next. Even if there was the word normal being used in that context and how damaging it truly was to me and so many other children throughout the history of time...well...I can’t say I was a saint in the situation either or I’d be lying.
“But don’t do what I did. And that’s take it out on everyone and everything I could. Even if there are outside influences that might cause some sway. You write your own story. And it truly begins today. Whatever you want to do...go out and accomplish it but do it in a way where you can be proud for yourself. And right now I’m not speaking as a wrestler, or a former graduate but I speak as a parent. Go out there and help make the future better than what it is today. My kid counts on you all even when both you and the kids don’t realize it.” I nod.
With that last statement there’s some applause going and when I make the motion to step away from the podium the applause grows louder. I don’t even take the time to soak it in and acknowledge it though. It isn’t about me. There’s a handful of staff that do offer to shake my hand and I can’t be rude...I do shake their hand even if I can feel some insincerity in their timid handshakes. Not everyone appreciates a perspective outside their own even if it’s warranted. But I do hope I get through those kids with my words. Just like every single day of my life as a parent...I am getting through to Allison so her life is better.
Just like I hope I get through to both the audience and Slater at Fate of the Gods coming up.
It’s another reason why I somewhat am filled with dread with that match coming up. People don’t always like to see the truth as that and would rather live in the bubble that makes them feel comfortable. And this isn’t out of malicious intent. It’s how we are in our DNA...to our very core as human beings. Living in this bubble for too long just creates heinous results.
...sort of like our presidential election so far…and if there is a God, he better help the entire damn world with that one.
...and I know either way a heinous result is going to be at the end of this match with Slater. Especially with no matter what has been said...the people cheer everything he does even if its hideous. And when I’ve tried to do right by my family...and the company...all I’ve gotten is increasing hostility.
...Just one truth will be told above all...even if I don’t get through in the history books...and that is I am indeed a better professional wrestler than one Matthew Slater.
...even if the people think otherwise. Even with the dread that fills up my soul in what needs to be done…
That is...the truth.
