Sickness of Mind

It is fair to say that at this point in my career...I have more matches behind me than ahead of me. This is what happens when you cross a certain barrier of age and the reality of your situation comes in. Wrestling has always been a young man’s sport...with never enough respect properly curtailed to those who have paved the way for these young men who don’t appreciate the opportunities that are presented on them. It isn’t just a generational thing either...it is something that is instilled into the youth coming up to not give a damn about those that come before them...to the point of disrespect.

Even in a place like Japan in some respects.

We, as a society, set a bad precedent for our future because of the momentum of the previous generation’s fuck ups. Hell, look at the history of this country...and how long it took us to abolish slavery just because said slaves had a different skin color. You dig deeper yet and you find that these horrific judgments continue onward when someone like FDR, someone people revere, had many Japanese Americans locked up in concentration camps like damned prisoners just because they had the wrong ethnicity due to an irrational fear that plagues the country and the momentum of said irrational thoughts sprinting from many generations...of abuse.

We even see it now when we have people passing laws that blatantly discriminate just because of a characteristic that they have no control over in various states. Even if certain people are smart enough, or at least considerate enough...to understand the damage of these patterns and want to do the right thing it infuriates me that the people who have control over the laws are bought off by those who won’t ever do so because it’d interfere with their ability to control everything with the dollar just so they can prostitue us like the sickening pimps that they are.

It even happens in the sport of wrestling...where time after time this principle of momentum just continues. Some say that’s how underhanded tactics are born but no...things go far deeper than that...personal animosity gets involved and then the bloated but fragile egos end up running a little too rampant beyond control. It brought in a lawsuit that got one side into a championship match while the egos on the opposite side made sure one of their personal friends was involved in said match. With all due respect...this continued bad momentum premise has already tainted a world championship in my mind when it should’ve been contested like it always should be...the safe haven of that squared circle.

Now more than ever...I’ve grown protective of what I truly care about...and the legacy of wrestling and what goes on in that ring is extremely important to me. The history of this business, both the good and the bad, and the morals that those in the industry should have when they’re trading fists and blood for pride. At one point...many of us were blood brothers and sisters though there were two camps on how to do things in the industry...now? The world of wrestling is truly estranged...because of the bad momentum that has gained even in this young company in VOW.

And I’m growing tired of carrying the guilt of this state of affairs in both the world of wrestling and what goes on outside.

Unfortunately...I know for a fact that I can’t change too much on the outside world...because of the wrestling stigma and my past that can be thrown right at my face. It bothers me...but right this minute there’s nothing I can do about it even though I want to make this world a better place...for my daughter...for Noish’s daughter...and not have the guilt of what happened to my mentor consume me too much more.

But I CAN change the direction of the sport of wrestling...I have the ability...the voice and the will...and it damn sure starts with teaching the youth of this industry what happens when you get TOO entitled and take far too much in an industry that encourages the selfish far too often. It’s why I’m so critical of...and have been so hard on young Owen Gonsalves the last few weeks.

The kid has far more natural ability than I ever possessed...and I know for a fact that when he sets his mind on that world championship...he has the ability now to best anyone in the middle of that ring and win. That’s never been my issue. My issue is what is between his ears...the sense of entitlement that he has. He has the entitlement of making sure his first match back is against a veteran like yours truly...he felt he had the entitlement of retiring in the middle of the ring so he can feed his growing monster of an ego from all these fickle, stupid sheep that comes to most of these wrestling events when the actions of his wrestling career dictated that he didn’t deserve anything close to that. He hadn’t put in the time...nor had he been a good influence. Flocking up everywhere thanks to Owen are kids who want to mutilate themselves in glass tables, lighting tubes and every vile instrument just because they look up to him out of free choice.

And you can’t condemn me for going down that road in my youth...it was the only way to get food on the table for me...and I more than paid the price for that experience. My body is racked with the scars of war...it took plenty of time off of my career and while I survived...in this portion of my career...I feel the regret that I had to take this path. Not as strong of a regret as some of the people I’ve had to hurt...or in the case of Noish ended up being killed because of my transgressions and actions...but it still eats away at me.

The Pay Per View is far too appropriately titled though now isn’t it? Nothing else matters...than completing my mission and finally eradicating some of the guilt and envy that has always been etched deep into my soul...and I can feel at peace by changing the culture. The first step...is to teach Owen Gonsalves a wrestling lesson of respect he’s never had in his entire life.

It’ll be the worst ass kicking he’ll ever have in this wrestling ring...and a cruel...but just sentencing for his sins of this wonderful industry he’s helped to pollute.

The quiet sunrise is enough to bring some semblance of life into even a sore, battered body. Plus the many different connotations you can take from it in a positive light...the meaning of a new day...maybe in some respects different beginnings. Or something as trivial as not dealing with the snow right this minute. Regardless the warmth of the sun outside just feels good on this aging old body even if the wind still has enough bite up here in the mountains for a chill. Air certainly feels better here though than in the city.

“It’s another day…” I mutter before half smiling, “Another day where people said I wouldn’t be alive and probably shouldn’t but am.”

The calm wind sends my black hair blowing in every direction before it does pick up slightly. With a shrug I put my hands in the pockets of my black jeans and continue glancing at the warm sun behind my dark sunglasses. I calmly take a couple back steps on this wooden porch before shrugging my shoulders and finding a seat on the black metal folding chair that’s there. Hey, even I have to relax every once in a while in my own house! It’s part of mental sanity...something Noish told me...to be able to get away every once in a while so you can refocus. It works. My train of thought is interrupted when the screen door opens and before I get to react...

“Dad?” I hear Allison’s voice, “What are you doing up this early?”

“Hm?” I raise my eyebrow, “Ah...I can ask the same of you...but what can I do for ya this morning kiddo?”

“I was hoping I could make it to school and play the basketball game after school…” she replies before letting out a cough.

Allison looks at me with a quizzical look on her face but her complexion is paler than mine for once. I heard her coughing last night but it was too late to go anywhere for proper care. She’s wearing pink pajama bottoms with a bright purple t-shirt and her hair’s a mess considering she probably just got out of bed. She lets out a couple labored coughs and at that moment I just my one hand to her forehead and compare it to my own temperature and her head is burning up.

“You’re not going anywhere today, kid.” I lowly reply, “Except the doctor’s maybe…”

“Does that mean I’m probably going to get a shot?” she raises her eyebrow, “I hate needles.”

“Depends…” I answer truthfully, “If you’re really sick, yeah. But…”

“Aw…” she pouts, “Could I at least have some soup this afternoon when I get hungry?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” I nod my head, “No problem. Just right now drink plenty of fluids and get some more rest. Please.”

“Alright…” she sighs.

“No, I’m serious...get a class of cold ice water now...it wouldn’t be a bad idea!” I calmly suggest.

She gives me a nod though her body language is somewhat dismissive of the idea before she closes the door. With a sigh, I look back up at the sun and shrug my shoulders...in all the areas I’ve been unfortunate...I’ve been fortunate enough to have a really even tempered kid. I calmly put the hood of my blue West Virginia logoed hoodie over my head and let the wind blow while just letting the warmth of the sun just bring a little bit of energy into my body...just letting it all escape. Letting it all go so I can fight with a controlled fury to teach young Owen a life lesson in the middle of that ring.

It really is a new day.

One where you can look to find ways to get rid of your regrets and place the building blocks to your future and the future to those you care about the most. It can all start with something as simple as a good sunrise like this...the little things we take for granted until there’s a chance you don’t see them anymore. I’ll never take my daughter for granted...but after I told Noish what I said...I think more about these things now. The little things that are precious.

...and my animosity with Owen aside...I hope he feels the same way about his own family or he’s even more down the deep end than I thought.

“Hope he can tell the truth to his family like I always do to mine,” I calmly think out, nodding at the sun.

“Seth!” Moretti’s voice shrieks out.

‘God dammit Vincent...’ I roll my eyes to myself.

The incomparable Vincent Moretti starts walking up the steps on this outside porch of mine using the wooden railing for balance on the somewhat unstable steps with a smirk etched on his face. The polyester red suit with a flaming red hat over the top of his head and the black tie is a sight that you can’t really unsee. He’s got more of a look of panic etched on his face as he sprints up the last couple of steps and I just peel off the sunglasses to get a better read and his eyes have some fear on them. It is at this moment that I notice he has a package.

“We’re in trouble…” Vincent’s voice booms out uncontrollably.

“What in---” I try to cut in.

“I can’t believe that these people would do this and threaten everything! These rotten bastards will pay! Every single one of these heinous people will pay…” Moretti rambles in his tangent.

“VINCENT!” I roar.

“What!?” Moretti replies, his tone spooked.

“Would you calmly tell me what the hell is going on?” I inquire maintaining my composure, “I have a sick kid on my plate and the last thing I need is for you to be all flustered right on my doorstep like this.”

“Okay…” Moretti takes a deep breath to try to compose himself, “Okay...I’ll try.”

A still frazzled Moretti paces back and forth for a second before he puts the package down on my feet. The box has tape all around it and in violent handwriting it has a tag that is directed ‘To Seth Iser’. A couple of warning bells go off in my brain because it could very well be anything...but who would go through the trouble to send something to me like this? With my curiosity getting the best of me I peel off the tape that conceals the box and glance over at a still flustered Moretti who is still trying to compose himself.

“Wait! It’s...going to piss you off! It’s wild fans who…” Moretti finally blurts out.

“I’ve just about gotten it all Vincent from bad wrestling fans…” I calmly reply.

With a begrudging nod from Moretti I slowly start opening the box and see all the protective stuff that they always put in the package. I calmly start digging through it so I can get a visual on what was sent to me and the first thing that’s noticeable is another note...inside the box. Alarm bells are ringing again since it probably is far more hostile than ‘To Seth Iser’ and as soon as I dig and feel...stone and the feel of flowers...I just raise my eyebrows...before I pull them from the box and see them for my own two eyes.

“No…” I mutter out weakly.

“Bastards…” Moretti frothes.

“Son of a bitch, no!” I yell out now, angrier.

The dead flowers I recognize right away...it’s the same flowers I placed on Noish’s grave and they’re deceased. They even have the small little indent on the end that I created exactly. The stone, however...that’s what’s got my blood boiling in a rage...it’s a piece of the tombstone where Noish is at his resting place. The absolute disrespect that someone has done to another person’s resting place all because...they may have a grudge with me...is heinous, cowardly and despicable. In my anger I kick the box with my left foot.

“Motherfucker…” I mutter, “Who in the hell would do such a damned horrible thing?”

“Now you know why I was so flustered!” Moretti replies, still wigged out.

I just methodically put the tombstone piece back into the box while still palming the flowers for a second. Yet another thing his spirit shouldn’t go through all because of misplaced anger.I rub the black hair out of my eyes and I almost feel as sick as Allison physically after seeing that. But there’s still the letter. As much as I just want to rip the god damned thing to pieces to have an outlet for all my fury and rage...I have to read it just so I have an inkling of what bastard pulled this stunt. With a bit of reluctance...I open the paper and begin reading the note.

“Hey Seth…” I mutter before wincing at the misspelled words at some portions, “I hope you’re...and they used the wrong version of that word...you’re a disgrace to wrestling and I hope Owen kicks you into an early grave you piece of shit! Fuck you and your actions and I hope your daughter burns too…I did these things in support of my favorite wrestler Owen and pray to God that he mutilates you into that early grave!”

“Did his cousins marry and sire that idiot?” Moretti raises his eyebrow.

“Look what that kid is influencing...we’ve done well lately into not having fans do these horrible things to wrestlers compared to the eighties...but here we are going back into previous generations fuck ups…” I sigh, “Hate these idiots who go to our wrestling shows and scream like barbarians when borderline execution on these injuries happen like those sick fucks who saw these things in the Roman Coliseum…”

As much as I want to completely lose my temper...and thrash this box and go get this tracked so I can kick this person’s teeth down their throat and stomp his skull in...I can’t. There’s far too much at stake for me in this industry and for my daughter in order to do so. With one big deep breath I just crumple up the paper and put it in my pocket just for that extra bit of motivation...to right many of these wrongs.

“Actions speak louder than words...and while I’ll get even with Owen for kicking me in the teeth...I’ll break this fan’s heart and let his own rage destroy him…” I calmly nod my head, “The state of affairs from the wrestlers and the fans has been absolutely on edge for quite some time now...and this ain’t helping matters.”

“New day...new rage…” Moretti mutters to himself.

“Dad?” I hear Allison’s voice a second time, “What’s going on?”

“Cruelity of human beings kiddo…” I answer truthfully.

Allison lets out a round of coughing, still struggling to move around effectively due to her illness. She has a clear cup in her hand and half of a glass of ice water. She intently studies the box and what it could be but before she can get a perfect view...Moretti shields it from her view as best he can with his body and she just glances at me wanting to know all the details. The exact details I’ll tell her when she gets older…

“Why are people capable of these things?” she asks.

“Many times it’s either triggered by something bad or instilled into them that these things are okay. There’s other reasons but...those are two most common ones…” I blink twice, “But bad things...everyone’s capable of doing them...just it’s all up to the person inside to avoid doing so willingly and do what is right.”

“Huh…” she ponders to herself with a perplexed look on her face.

“You’re the one who taught me that...whether you realize it or not. Your father’s thankful for that. I really am.” I calmly nod my head.

I don’t know if she fully scopes everything that I’m saying...but she nods her head understanding it enough before surprising me with a hug. Just like that...I feel moderately better…

“Love you,” she says.

“Love you too.” I reply, “Now get some rest. That illness won’t go away if you don’t get your proper rest you know.”

Allison releases the hug before opening the screen door and heading back indoors. Moretti scowls at me thinking I might catch her bug but I just shrug...there are some things far more important in life...some things I never truly had until recently and those same things I didn’t completely understand until that moment of clarity last week. While hiding a semblance of a smile from that I just reach down into my pocket and still remember the vile note and action done against me.

“Vincent...make sure the flight is for tonight and we’ll travel as normal. I have to take Allison to the doctor’s today first...but make no mistake...I’ll kick Owen’s ass. Not just to teach him a lesson...not just to piss that fan off worse than any thrashing I could give him but...to take a step in the right direction for this industry...and to do right by my daughter…” I nod my head calmly.

“Yes sir,” Moretti mock salutes.

Vincent starts marching down the steps and goes to do the task that was asked of him while I turn my glance back at the rising sun. The love I feel for my daughter beats stronger than ever...as does the hatred deep inside for these type of fans that Owen has knowingly or not helped to create. Years ago I would’ve done the worst things humanly possible to both Owen and this fan...things that would be inhumane.

...but I guess we’re all capable of some change.

Yet despite all this change...I can still feel the envy that’s etched deep inside my heart. While not as strong...the emptiness that’s in my soul is still resonating because of how...normal of a life people like Owen and even this fan are allowed to live just because they haven’t had to walk a mile in my shoes. As much as my daughter is a blessing...how I got there is quite a bit of a curse.

And I wonder if Owen is reasonable enough to have that change.

The kid seems a little too arrogant at times for his own good...and too lackadaisical about what kind of influence he has over these horrendous sheep. It may even be a mutual corruption between the two which has happened many times over time. But nothing like a good old slap of the face from reality...and a punch from yours truly to get him seeing sense again. Owen, for your sake...don’t ever tell your family that I’m some cretin in this industry who does things solely for his own gain.

I’ll be the man that kicks your ass and made you see the light that Bruce now sees...and that not enough people see in this industry...for what it is. You’ll see sense…

...and you’ll see why they call Seth Iser...one of the best wrestlers to ever lace up a pair of boots.

...all thanks to what I’ve learned in the wrestling ring...from my mentor...and even my daughter.

And you better be man enough to admit...that everything I said about your cheap shots...to how you will lose in front of the entire world and even your actions...were right and that you were wrong and apologize to me for how you’ve damaged the industry...and for how you’ve encouraged these fans and even some of the wrestlers to bastardize the industry that helped save me from ruin.

...or you’ll be in for a lot worse than the beating I’m going to give you...I promise.