Opening Day

1
--

...Oh, there's a whole hell of a lot of difference between SAYING you want to be a pro wrestler and getting in the ring. More difference than most folks can imagine. I seen dozens of kids come to the farm looking for dad's help just like these ones. They ain't got no idea what they're getting into. They're a buck fifty soaking wet. Clearly, these kids have never seen the inside of a gym. I'm hoping they've got enough technical ability to make up for it but by the way they run the ropes I doubt it.

See, there's a safe way to hit the ropes. Wrestlers know how to do it, so it makes stuff like the irish whip look so simple. It's an offensive move. I mean, hell, you're throwing a two hundred pound man at a snappy cable. At the speed you go flying at it hurts like a sumbitch if you don't hit it right. You wanna time your steps so you can hit them just right, come back and hit the guy. These kids? Timings all off. They don't know what they're doing. They're stepping too gingerly, not letting themselves snap into it. They keep that habit up and they're gonna break themselves down way too fast.

They came here to train with Dad. Eli Tanner's a local legend. Problem is, dad ain't no spring chicken anymore. The ring is set up in the barn and Dad patrols and watches. It's me and Bobby who do the training now. These sneering kids want to impress him, but they're not in the ring with him. They're in the ring with us....and the Tanner boys don't play.

“So.” My voice carries some weight in here, enough to make them stop running the ropes and line up in the middle of the ring “Ya'll wanna be wrestlers. Do you? That's interesting. I see a whole lot of kids who wanna be wrestlers. I don't think you do. I think you wanna see your name in lights. I bet you want to see yourself on TV. I don't think you want to wrestle.”

The middle one shifts his position and I see his lip curl slightly. There's always one who bristles. I LOVE the one who bristles. He's gonna be the first one. I wave my hand to invite him into the ring and he moves closer to the middle. He's eyeballing me under a bunch of stringy black hair. Playing tough guy in his baggy cargo shorts and wifebeater. I look out of the ring to my brother Bobby, who grins and looks over at Dad. Dad folds his arms in front of him and nods. Bobby takes off out of the barn to find Shae. This is gonna be bad. Kid looks like he's gonna step.

“I see that look in your eyes, boy.” I mutter “I like it. That kinda anger keeps you going. Makes you tough. If you can stand the pain. You wanna wrestle? It hurts. So swing at me, and let's see if you can stand a little pain.”

“I...I don't know how.”

I nod and step back as Shae heads into the barn. Three years we been married and I still don't like her seeing me get violent. She stands beside Bobby and flashes me a warm smile. Do what's gotta be done. Break the new kids in right. She flips back her brown hair and ties it behind her, giving me the final nod as I turn back to the kid “You don't know yet. You know how to swing a fist. Wristlocks come later. The heart's gotta come first. Let's rumble kid.”

“Ding Ding.” That's Bobby on the outside, spinning his finger sarcastically. The other two kids hop out of the ring. I lower my base and wait for the shot I know is coming. It's always the same punch, for some reason. A wide sloppy right hand that moves like molasses on a frozen pond. I've got plenty of time to get under the arc and when I come up on the other side. I fire off a shot straight from the hip, and on reflex my hand opens at the last second to blast the kid in the mouth. Closed fists punches are illegal and I've been throwing smacks since the day I got in the ring. Kid looks absolutely boggled by the shots and I grab his arms and send him whipping into the ropes. Kids all wrong. All limbs and stumbling. He winces when he hits the ropes and by that time I'm off the other one like a wrecking ball. I crash into him with a shoulder block. He hits the ground and goes rolling out of the ring. I head over to the ropes to make sure he's okay. Kid is moving. He ain't coming back in the ring.

“Next.”

Dad's order is growled from somewhere deep in his belly. The next kid comes charging out to try and get a drop on me. I admire his speed. He goes low and kicks me in the gut, it's enough to make me wince but I pretend like it drove the air out. He heads for the ropes and snaps off with slightly better posture than his buddy. He doesn't know I'm playing possum until it's too late. Once he's close enough I lock my hands on his throat and thigh, yanking him up and into the air with a Gorilla Press. The kid gives a terrified yelp and I toss him away from the ropes, back into the middle of the ring. He lands HARD. The crack of the mat is terrifying and he goes rolling outside holding the small of his back. I'm worried for a minute. My face flashes uncertainty.

Then Shae makes it all better. She steps over to the ropes “One more baby. Impress me.” That's all I need to get me going again. It's such a cheesy line, said in such a relaxed tone that I know there's nothing to worry about. The last kid comes running in. What is it with these kids and charging? Jesus, doesn't anyone THINK anymore? It's all instinct when they move that fast. I slip my hips back and jump up, blasting him in the face with a wicked dropkick. The kid tumbles backward and I roll back to my feet. I see something in his eyes. There's no fear from getting hit. There's FURY. I love that look. I live for that look. When I'm in the ring? I am that look. This kid could be somebody.

But not today.

When he comes back with another wild right hand I'm ready. I block his shot and scoop him under his leg, whipping my body around as fast as I can with a powerslam. He hits the mat and wheezes as the air is driven from his body. I get on one knee and pat him on the chest. Kid's done good. Hopefully he knows it. He rolls out with his friends to the floor and the other two are there to meet him and pick him up. He grins a bit and chuckles. Hurt or not, he's got a story to tell. This kid's the hero for today.

“That's what it takes, boys. That and a lot more. You wanna get in our ring? You'll get ten times more than that every time you go to work. That's our business. You wake up tomorrow and you ain't hurting too bad?” I smile now. Actually smile for the first time since they showed up to the farm “Call us.”


2
--

A few hours later and we're all in the living room. I'm out of my ring gear now, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. Nice and casual. Shae's much the same. Daisy dukes and a skynyrd shirt. Real classy, my girl. Bobby and Jamie are sitting at a card table over in the corner, muttering to themselves about something I can't quite make out. We're all on edge though. It's a wrestling day. Training kids and watching tape.

Watching Tape. Oh boy.

Dad comes rumbling on in with the DVD's in hand and heads for the television. None of say anything but everybody's instantly on edge. We're workers. Time to work. Dad turns it on and the television shows Titus Black. He's a big cat. Had to be at least six two. It's some hardcore match I've never seen before, and it's fascinating watching him work. He'll smack somebody in the head with a chair and then throw some pretty little suplex right afterward. I'm always real jealous when I see guys throw the suplexes out. Never had much of a knack for them myself, beyond a decent belly to belly.

“What do you see?” Dad asks. The room goes quiet for a couple of minutes as we study the tape. I don't see anything. Guy looks near perfect. I look over my shoulder to the younger boys, Jamie and Bobby don't look like they're catching anything either. Dad grumbles and takes a seat. Awkward Silences. Oh, I just love awkward silences.

It's Shae who finally speaks up “He overcommits. Drops his head too far back when he suplexes. Leans his body in too hard on his kicks. It hits his opponent harder but if you can catch him you can punish him.”

Jamie snickers underneath his mop of blond hair. Dad's old fashioned. He's never believed women were much good in the wrestling business. Shae's got a knack though, she's technical wizard out there. Dad just kind of stares at her for a minute and then slowly nods.

“So what am I looking for then? Powerslam? Dropkick? What's our tide turner?” I go reaching for my beer on the coffee table but Dad smacks my hand away. No drinking during training time. Bah. What a buzzkill.

More silence now as we watch Titus hop a leapfrog. There. “Powerslam.” Bobby says, scratching his chin “Big old opening right there. Look how high he gets those hips.”

Dad nods to the television and Bobby gets up to go switch the DVD on us. Matt Rydell kneeing some poor opponent in the face. I'm on edge straight away, sitting forward to get a better look at the television. He's like nothing I've ever seen. Mean as a pitbull and hitting from all angles. Me? I'm straight ahead. That's gonna present a problem. This guy can get around me, clip out my legs. They can all see my worry.

“I ain't that good.” I admit, with a deep sigh. Shae rests a hand on my shoulder to reassure me. There's a disgusted sigh from Bobby. He's a rumbler, a tough guy. He thinks he can take on the world. Me? I know I've got flaws and I admit them.

“Technically, maybe not. You certainly can't throw those pretty kicks.” Dad scoffs. He takes my beer and chugs it down. I shake my head and laugh at him and he just shrugs. Hey, HE'S not training for a match “I'm willing to bet you can do something he can't though. Fight from underneath. You got more heart than he does.”

It sounds like he's trying to give the “I think I can” speech. I nod but it doesn't convince him. He looks aggravated “What? Listen, I didn't raise a quitter. I didn't raise somebody who looks at something like that and decides he can't win. That kid's in the gym hitting bags. You were on the farm sweating your ass off. Don't go out there and trade chest kicks and wristlocks with him. Rip his head off!”

That's Dad's fire. He can talk like that and motivate anyone. When he says that I feel something rise in my chest. I nod and turn to look at the family. Everyone's grinning and nodding. Excited. It's rumble time.

3
--

“First match is always scary.”

I'm sitting in the ring out in the barn with the camera in front of me. IWF sent up the camera crew for a few words before the show. Oh, I got words for them. I got just the thing to say. I'm up against the turnbuckle with my cowboy hat on and staring right at the little red light under the lens. Showtime baby.

“Name's Cole Tanner. Son of Eli Tanner. The Calgary Cowboy. New as can be to the IWF....truth is I ain't much of a talker. I can give you the usual bull. I'm gonna succeed! I'm gonna be champion! You've heard those speeches. I'm not gonna give you another one. I'm more direct than that. I get in the ring and kick ass in there. Still, IWF says I gotta talk. So I'll talk.”

I laugh a bit and cover my mouth with my hand.

“Triple threat. Deck stacked against me. Not exactly the way anybody likes to debut. More than that, I'm in there with two guys who are a lot like me. They like to go out there and kick a little ass. Show you what they're thinking with their fists. I dig that. That's a good attitude to have. You better bring all that aggression when you get in the ring with me. I ain't looking for some fancy submission hold. All I want to do is pick you up and slam you through that mat. I wanna hurt you that way. I'm gonna make you wonder why you ever got into this sport.”

I pull myself up to my feet and wave a hand around the ring, wishing I had a cameraman to pan the sucker around “See, I had a bunch of guys show up today who wanted to be wrestlers! WHAM! Couple of slams sent 'em home! They didn't have the heart to do what we do. Me? I do. I'm nothing BUT hurt. So Titus! Bring all the deathstyle you want boy. Go ahead and smack me over the head with a chair, then pick me up and slam me on that same one! Matt Rydell! Use all that muay thai you got. Take the best shots you can and hope they kill me, cause otherwise...otherwise I ain't staying down.”

The fire's back in my voice now and all doubt's gone. I can win this. I know I can. I get right in the face of the camera, pointing at me “I'm the guy who wins no matter what. I'm the guy who keeps coming at you no matter what you throw at him. I'm the guy who gets that hard fought win because he has to, because I got a wife at home and brothers who think the world of me. Guys like Cade Malibu want to run their mouth on me, let 'em. They're about to get their whole world changed, and so am I because after tonight...Cole Tanner's on his way to the top of that mountain.”

I let the thing close with the final image of me nodding slowly and smirking. By the time that little light goes out I'm near drooling for a fight. All the waitings almost over. It's time to go.

(Fade)