Post by darkdisciple on Aug 11, 2012 16:48:33 GMT -5
2:00 PM Friday 10 August 2012
Room 218 - Red Roof Inn: Las Vegas Nevada, USA
1st Person
The one thing I couldn’t hold against the MPW corporate was failure to pay me. For once, I actually found myself receiving the money I earned each week. Every other promotion seemed to have issues when it came to delivering cash, but only for me. MPW wasn’t like that though, I got my thousand a week, before taxes took a fifth, and I sent half of what was left to my family, so basically, after lodging and food, I didn’t have a whole lot of spending money, makes me laugh when people assume all wrestlers are multi-millionaires living in penthouse suites and eating steak and eggs every meal. My personal life involved a decent hotel room and 2 meals a day. Hell, I probably couldn’t even afford steroids if I did want to use them. A gym membership and nothing better to do were much more effective anyways.
I hadn’t really paid much attention to my personal life over the past couple of weeks, which was unusual for me. Johnny Clash was the sort of person who took up most of your focus. Granted, the actual match had been a total let down, but at least I had held my own… even if I had lost… again… after someone blatantly cheated… again… come to think of it, Aiden Caine was the only guy who had beaten me without cheating… that was why I was excited to be facing him in another match, I wanted to prove that I hadn’t be outclassed by him, that his victory had been just as hard for him, as this one was going to be for me. Of course, that was before Bill Adams had decided what this match needed was his ample gut in the judgment stripes for the match. Whatever Adams had planned, it was pretty clear I would be on the receiving end of it. I had been in the industry long enough to know the signs pointed to my getting screwed, and I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the prospect of ending up on the Step-Up roster, but at the same time, it’s not like I could do much about it. Aside from wrestling under protest, but that meant just about nothing, or I could always quit, but then I’d be quitting, and that was something that Apostle Kried was never going to do.
5:00 PM
Las Vegas Outskirts
Lord Loco’s Wrestling School
Lord Loco’s was a decent enough place for training. He didn’t charge me for use of his practice ring and gym, and in exchange I helped him out by running a couple of workouts each week. It wasn’t flashy, but I wasn’t exactly someone who cared. Most of the students were pipsqueaks who barely knew the difference between a neckbreaker and a snapmare, but Loco himself was a grizzly old veteran… grizzly might not have been the right way to describe him… crotchety was more appropriate. The guy was an old jerk to be honest. But when it came to technical knowledge, he was a legend. His career had been less of a legend. Apparently the demand for anything but luchadores had been low in Mexico during his career. But he didn’t let that keep him from becoming one of the best technical wrestlers in Mexico, before earning enough to move to America, unfortunately by that time nobody wanted veterans, everyone wanted young guys who were willing to throw themselves off of anything for the fans’ entertainment. Eventually he was left with more wrestling knowledge than he knew what to do with, and nowhere to go. Opening a school in Las Vegas had been out of necessity, and even then, surprisingly few people actually wanted to learn how to wrestle. MPW’s move in had created a few more customers for him, but he seemed more or less to be just scraping by. He was one tough old geezer though. He was pushing 70 years old, and he still could whip any one of his teenage students. He even got in the ring with me when I needed in-ring practice. He wouldn’t let me take it easy on him either. One thing about technical masterminds, all they need is one opening, and they’ve got you. Sure on strength, speed, and all those things I had the advantage on him, but he was a genius, and I would dare anyone who thought I was just stupid for losing to a senior citizen to step in the ring with Lord Loco. I’d give whoever it was about 15 seconds before they were on the mat tapping out to one of any of the hundreds of submission holds the man had innovated. If he so much as saw I wasn’t fully focused on what I was doing, or if I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, he would snap on a Loco Motive before I even knew he was attacking. It was an effective learning tool alright, if you dozed off during a lesson, you found your feet and the top of your head touching before you could even blink. I told myself to remember that if I ever opened a school of my own.
Today wasn’t going to be an in ring practice though, it was stamina training. Something I had picked up from every veteran or coach I talked to, was that conserving energy wasn’t the goal in a one on one wrestling match, in fact, it was nearly impossible and relatively ineffective. Your opponent has to exert energy with every move either one of you does, it’s about targeting your moves to wear down your opponent in a specific way so that you can gain an advantage, and about having the ability to outlast your opponent. Staying on the defensive in a match just meant you were taking hits while your opponent wasn’t. Better to gain an advantage and keep it. Whoever had the best stamina could win any match just by having more strength left over after all had been said and done. It didn’t change the fact that stamina exercises were some of the goofiest looking things you could do in a gym. Smashing a tire with a sledgehammer was a great way to build arm strength, as well as stamina, but it didn’t change the fact that anybody walking by would see you repeatedly slamming a hammer into a giant tire.
Now it’s not like I’m some narcissist who cares about what other people think when they see me working out, but when you get dozens of cocky, pimple-faced teenagers snickering at you as you work out, it can cause a bit of a distraction, and as I said earlier, distractions in this particular gym tend to end with someone’s spine bent 90 degrees. But given that Pablo (Lord Loco that is) had left me in charge while he ran some errands, I decided running these guys ragged would be ten times more fun than ‘accidently’ slamming a few in the gut with the sledgehammer.
Plyometrics are wonderful for wrestlers. Quickness on your feet can be a difference maker in a match. While my size never let me be the quickest mover, it didn’t mean I couldn’t surprise people by training myself to improve. Pablo kept a couple of Plyo ladders in the gym, I told the 10 odd students in the gym to get them out. They lined up behind one ladder, while I stood in front of the other. I began sidestepping in the ladder, my feet flying in and out of each square. I reached the end and reversed direction. I was slightly weaker leading with my right foot, but I challenged myself to try and keep up the pace I had set with my left. The kids had begun trying the same exercise on their own ladder. As I began my second set, the first kid had just reached the end of the ladder. By the time the last kid had managed to finish, I was about halfway through my 16th repetition. I told them to go again. After I had done 30, and they had each gone twice, I switched to a different exercise. I continued with this, through every exercise I knew on the ladders. We were doing two foot hops, about half an hour later, when the teens all looked about ready to collapse. It was then Pablo returned. His eternally pissed off voice rang out over the constantly playing workout music.
AAAAAAAPOOOOOSSSSSSTLLLLLLLE!!!! GET YER ARSE OVER HERE!!!
Alright, you guys can take a break, We’ll do some lifts after this, get something to drink.
I ran up to him, he tossed me towel.
Wipe yer face, I can’t properly yell at ya when ya bin makin’ me proud runnin’ these wimps to tha dust.
I obliged, sweeping the perspiration from my face.
Now tell me what the hell is wrong? I was in a groove there, just starting to feel a burn.
Oh don’t ya worry about that, I’ll be sure to grind ya ta dust after ya tell those camera rats to get the hell offa my doorstep!
What camera rats?
Don’ ask me, how would I know? Sez dey’re here for ya, sez dey’re from MPDub’ya. All I know is I wan’em GONE! Now git on it, I’ve got wimps to train. ALL RIGHT YOU LOT, GIT TO THA LINE! WE’RE SPRINTIN!
I couldn’t help but smile at the moans of the group of trainees. Too bad for them none of the girls had shown up today. Pablo took it a little easier on the girls… not much, but a little. I guess a part of growing old is mild pevertedness. Pablo definitely suffered from it, though not as much as we suffered when there weren’t any girls around. What had he meant by camera rats though?
I glimpsed out the window and sighed. Tasha Jordan was standing out there, along with two camera men, obviously waiting for somebody… and it was pretty obvious who it was they wanted.
I headed out the door, as soon as I did a smile broke on Tasha’s face.
Thank goodness you are here! We were told we could find you here, but as soon as we got here this old man just started screaming his head off at us… said if we didn’t want our tailbones and our necks to get personally acquainted, we should keep out. What a jerk!
He probably meant every word, but what are you guys doing here? I’m in the middle of training! If you wanted an interview, you should have just sent me a text! I’d have met you at the arena!
Oh I know that Silly, but MPW magazine wanted to do a special on how much you train and what all you do and such. Also, MPW.com wanted a video of you training, and TEW.com wanted to know about your match!
Wait… TEW? I didn’t know you worked for TEW. I thought Billy Boy hated TEW ever since they called him a fat prick with no discernible mic skills.
Oh he does, I’m free lancing! TEW is taking up MPW as their new favorite rising promotion, and they want anything they can get. Pay’s not bad either. A girl has to make money somehow right? Anyways, do you think there is any way we could get inside here and film your workout tonight?
Given that Pablo is in there? You’ve got a better chance of killing a moose with a slingshot. He’d probably make your arms a foot longer sooner than he’d look at you.
Don’t tell me the geezer owns the place! Dammit, I thought this was going to be easy… Do you think there’s anything we can do to get him to let us in? We could make it sort of into an advertisement for this place…
Pablo hates commercials, says word of mouth is the only way you can really know a company is any good. I doubt he’d happily make one himself.
What if MPW were to give him… monetary incentive?
As in bribe him to let you film here, good luck convincing him to do that, it’s like the guy hates money. He doesn’t even charge me to work out here. And no sane person would charge as little as he does. Tell you what…
I open the door and shout into the gym…
HEY, LORD LOCO, COULD YOU GET OUT HERE?
After a few minutes, Pablo appeared in the doorway, a stern glare on his face.
Still here? Apostle ya klutz, I told ya to git ridda ‘em.
They want to film my workouts and show everyone where I train to become better.
No. Last thing I need is these wimps thinkin’ de’re special cus o’ this big goon. I got nothin’ for ‘em ta see. Git rid o’ ‘em
Please sir, I mean… I have to do my job, and my job is to get this footage, is there anything we can do to maybe convince you to let us in?
Ya sayin’ ya’d be willin’ ta do anythin’ for this? Anythin’?
Anything sir.
Well now… ya don’ here tha’ too of’n. Most people jus’ do anythin’ they can ta avoid work. Alright, I’ll test ya. Ya want ta get in? Ya gotta do e’rythin’ Apostle does too.
Umm… what… is he saying?
Tasha looked at me quizzically as I smiled and shook my head.
Basically, he says if you want to film me working out, he wants you to do my workout with me.
WHAT!? But… but I’m wearing jeans, I can’t workout like this, I… I left all my stuff at my apartment…
Alright, I’ll wait…
But… but what about these two!?
She points to the cameramen, flanking her on either side.
Nah, if ya do it, I’ll even let ‘em in too. So they can film ‘n’ all.
I told you he was a minor pervert right? Tasha looked completely beaten, but she agreed to it, and headed back to her car. The cameramen went inside to set up. Pablo looked less pissed off than I think I had ever seen him.
Hmph, she got guts fer doin’ it, ain’t to bad lookin’ neither. Should be fun.
I shook my head as I followed him back into the gym.
To be continued
Room 218 - Red Roof Inn: Las Vegas Nevada, USA
1st Person
The one thing I couldn’t hold against the MPW corporate was failure to pay me. For once, I actually found myself receiving the money I earned each week. Every other promotion seemed to have issues when it came to delivering cash, but only for me. MPW wasn’t like that though, I got my thousand a week, before taxes took a fifth, and I sent half of what was left to my family, so basically, after lodging and food, I didn’t have a whole lot of spending money, makes me laugh when people assume all wrestlers are multi-millionaires living in penthouse suites and eating steak and eggs every meal. My personal life involved a decent hotel room and 2 meals a day. Hell, I probably couldn’t even afford steroids if I did want to use them. A gym membership and nothing better to do were much more effective anyways.
I hadn’t really paid much attention to my personal life over the past couple of weeks, which was unusual for me. Johnny Clash was the sort of person who took up most of your focus. Granted, the actual match had been a total let down, but at least I had held my own… even if I had lost… again… after someone blatantly cheated… again… come to think of it, Aiden Caine was the only guy who had beaten me without cheating… that was why I was excited to be facing him in another match, I wanted to prove that I hadn’t be outclassed by him, that his victory had been just as hard for him, as this one was going to be for me. Of course, that was before Bill Adams had decided what this match needed was his ample gut in the judgment stripes for the match. Whatever Adams had planned, it was pretty clear I would be on the receiving end of it. I had been in the industry long enough to know the signs pointed to my getting screwed, and I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the prospect of ending up on the Step-Up roster, but at the same time, it’s not like I could do much about it. Aside from wrestling under protest, but that meant just about nothing, or I could always quit, but then I’d be quitting, and that was something that Apostle Kried was never going to do.
5:00 PM
Las Vegas Outskirts
Lord Loco’s Wrestling School
Lord Loco’s was a decent enough place for training. He didn’t charge me for use of his practice ring and gym, and in exchange I helped him out by running a couple of workouts each week. It wasn’t flashy, but I wasn’t exactly someone who cared. Most of the students were pipsqueaks who barely knew the difference between a neckbreaker and a snapmare, but Loco himself was a grizzly old veteran… grizzly might not have been the right way to describe him… crotchety was more appropriate. The guy was an old jerk to be honest. But when it came to technical knowledge, he was a legend. His career had been less of a legend. Apparently the demand for anything but luchadores had been low in Mexico during his career. But he didn’t let that keep him from becoming one of the best technical wrestlers in Mexico, before earning enough to move to America, unfortunately by that time nobody wanted veterans, everyone wanted young guys who were willing to throw themselves off of anything for the fans’ entertainment. Eventually he was left with more wrestling knowledge than he knew what to do with, and nowhere to go. Opening a school in Las Vegas had been out of necessity, and even then, surprisingly few people actually wanted to learn how to wrestle. MPW’s move in had created a few more customers for him, but he seemed more or less to be just scraping by. He was one tough old geezer though. He was pushing 70 years old, and he still could whip any one of his teenage students. He even got in the ring with me when I needed in-ring practice. He wouldn’t let me take it easy on him either. One thing about technical masterminds, all they need is one opening, and they’ve got you. Sure on strength, speed, and all those things I had the advantage on him, but he was a genius, and I would dare anyone who thought I was just stupid for losing to a senior citizen to step in the ring with Lord Loco. I’d give whoever it was about 15 seconds before they were on the mat tapping out to one of any of the hundreds of submission holds the man had innovated. If he so much as saw I wasn’t fully focused on what I was doing, or if I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, he would snap on a Loco Motive before I even knew he was attacking. It was an effective learning tool alright, if you dozed off during a lesson, you found your feet and the top of your head touching before you could even blink. I told myself to remember that if I ever opened a school of my own.
Today wasn’t going to be an in ring practice though, it was stamina training. Something I had picked up from every veteran or coach I talked to, was that conserving energy wasn’t the goal in a one on one wrestling match, in fact, it was nearly impossible and relatively ineffective. Your opponent has to exert energy with every move either one of you does, it’s about targeting your moves to wear down your opponent in a specific way so that you can gain an advantage, and about having the ability to outlast your opponent. Staying on the defensive in a match just meant you were taking hits while your opponent wasn’t. Better to gain an advantage and keep it. Whoever had the best stamina could win any match just by having more strength left over after all had been said and done. It didn’t change the fact that stamina exercises were some of the goofiest looking things you could do in a gym. Smashing a tire with a sledgehammer was a great way to build arm strength, as well as stamina, but it didn’t change the fact that anybody walking by would see you repeatedly slamming a hammer into a giant tire.
Now it’s not like I’m some narcissist who cares about what other people think when they see me working out, but when you get dozens of cocky, pimple-faced teenagers snickering at you as you work out, it can cause a bit of a distraction, and as I said earlier, distractions in this particular gym tend to end with someone’s spine bent 90 degrees. But given that Pablo (Lord Loco that is) had left me in charge while he ran some errands, I decided running these guys ragged would be ten times more fun than ‘accidently’ slamming a few in the gut with the sledgehammer.
Plyometrics are wonderful for wrestlers. Quickness on your feet can be a difference maker in a match. While my size never let me be the quickest mover, it didn’t mean I couldn’t surprise people by training myself to improve. Pablo kept a couple of Plyo ladders in the gym, I told the 10 odd students in the gym to get them out. They lined up behind one ladder, while I stood in front of the other. I began sidestepping in the ladder, my feet flying in and out of each square. I reached the end and reversed direction. I was slightly weaker leading with my right foot, but I challenged myself to try and keep up the pace I had set with my left. The kids had begun trying the same exercise on their own ladder. As I began my second set, the first kid had just reached the end of the ladder. By the time the last kid had managed to finish, I was about halfway through my 16th repetition. I told them to go again. After I had done 30, and they had each gone twice, I switched to a different exercise. I continued with this, through every exercise I knew on the ladders. We were doing two foot hops, about half an hour later, when the teens all looked about ready to collapse. It was then Pablo returned. His eternally pissed off voice rang out over the constantly playing workout music.
AAAAAAAPOOOOOSSSSSSTLLLLLLLE!!!! GET YER ARSE OVER HERE!!!
Alright, you guys can take a break, We’ll do some lifts after this, get something to drink.
I ran up to him, he tossed me towel.
Wipe yer face, I can’t properly yell at ya when ya bin makin’ me proud runnin’ these wimps to tha dust.
I obliged, sweeping the perspiration from my face.
Now tell me what the hell is wrong? I was in a groove there, just starting to feel a burn.
Oh don’t ya worry about that, I’ll be sure to grind ya ta dust after ya tell those camera rats to get the hell offa my doorstep!
What camera rats?
Don’ ask me, how would I know? Sez dey’re here for ya, sez dey’re from MPDub’ya. All I know is I wan’em GONE! Now git on it, I’ve got wimps to train. ALL RIGHT YOU LOT, GIT TO THA LINE! WE’RE SPRINTIN!
I couldn’t help but smile at the moans of the group of trainees. Too bad for them none of the girls had shown up today. Pablo took it a little easier on the girls… not much, but a little. I guess a part of growing old is mild pevertedness. Pablo definitely suffered from it, though not as much as we suffered when there weren’t any girls around. What had he meant by camera rats though?
I glimpsed out the window and sighed. Tasha Jordan was standing out there, along with two camera men, obviously waiting for somebody… and it was pretty obvious who it was they wanted.
I headed out the door, as soon as I did a smile broke on Tasha’s face.
Thank goodness you are here! We were told we could find you here, but as soon as we got here this old man just started screaming his head off at us… said if we didn’t want our tailbones and our necks to get personally acquainted, we should keep out. What a jerk!
He probably meant every word, but what are you guys doing here? I’m in the middle of training! If you wanted an interview, you should have just sent me a text! I’d have met you at the arena!
Oh I know that Silly, but MPW magazine wanted to do a special on how much you train and what all you do and such. Also, MPW.com wanted a video of you training, and TEW.com wanted to know about your match!
Wait… TEW? I didn’t know you worked for TEW. I thought Billy Boy hated TEW ever since they called him a fat prick with no discernible mic skills.
Oh he does, I’m free lancing! TEW is taking up MPW as their new favorite rising promotion, and they want anything they can get. Pay’s not bad either. A girl has to make money somehow right? Anyways, do you think there is any way we could get inside here and film your workout tonight?
Given that Pablo is in there? You’ve got a better chance of killing a moose with a slingshot. He’d probably make your arms a foot longer sooner than he’d look at you.
Don’t tell me the geezer owns the place! Dammit, I thought this was going to be easy… Do you think there’s anything we can do to get him to let us in? We could make it sort of into an advertisement for this place…
Pablo hates commercials, says word of mouth is the only way you can really know a company is any good. I doubt he’d happily make one himself.
What if MPW were to give him… monetary incentive?
As in bribe him to let you film here, good luck convincing him to do that, it’s like the guy hates money. He doesn’t even charge me to work out here. And no sane person would charge as little as he does. Tell you what…
I open the door and shout into the gym…
HEY, LORD LOCO, COULD YOU GET OUT HERE?
After a few minutes, Pablo appeared in the doorway, a stern glare on his face.
Still here? Apostle ya klutz, I told ya to git ridda ‘em.
They want to film my workouts and show everyone where I train to become better.
No. Last thing I need is these wimps thinkin’ de’re special cus o’ this big goon. I got nothin’ for ‘em ta see. Git rid o’ ‘em
Please sir, I mean… I have to do my job, and my job is to get this footage, is there anything we can do to maybe convince you to let us in?
Ya sayin’ ya’d be willin’ ta do anythin’ for this? Anythin’?
Anything sir.
Well now… ya don’ here tha’ too of’n. Most people jus’ do anythin’ they can ta avoid work. Alright, I’ll test ya. Ya want ta get in? Ya gotta do e’rythin’ Apostle does too.
Umm… what… is he saying?
Tasha looked at me quizzically as I smiled and shook my head.
Basically, he says if you want to film me working out, he wants you to do my workout with me.
WHAT!? But… but I’m wearing jeans, I can’t workout like this, I… I left all my stuff at my apartment…
Alright, I’ll wait…
But… but what about these two!?
She points to the cameramen, flanking her on either side.
Nah, if ya do it, I’ll even let ‘em in too. So they can film ‘n’ all.
I told you he was a minor pervert right? Tasha looked completely beaten, but she agreed to it, and headed back to her car. The cameramen went inside to set up. Pablo looked less pissed off than I think I had ever seen him.
Hmph, she got guts fer doin’ it, ain’t to bad lookin’ neither. Should be fun.
I shook my head as I followed him back into the gym.
To be continued
