June 9, 2008
Joe Cool stood in his hotel room with his shirt off. In just a few short hours, he was set to debut for a company called the Outsider Wrestling Federation. The voice inside of him would bubble up to inform him of his impending failure every so often but he chalked that up to nerves and ignored it. Instead, he had his back to the full-length mirror while he looked in a hand mirror to really observe his neck.
The scar was still relatively fresh. He had his surgery nearly two years ago. He remembered the exact moment, the exact match, that finally forced him to repair the herniated C5 and C6 discs in his spine.
He told people that it was a match with C4 in ICW that did it, and that was true. That took what was a condition that would have healed with rest and turned it into a full-blown debilitating injury. He kicked himself, mentally, for not getting the condition fixed right there and then. His less-than-memorable runs in MWA and ASW should have alerted him to the fact he wasn't performing at 100%.
Wrestlers have a tendency to push themselves, ignoring pain, until it reaches a breaking point.
Joe's breaking point was in November 2006. The match wasn't anything special. He was in the UWF, a promotion that he couldn't even remember the full name for. Universal Wrestling Federation? Ultimate Wrestling Federation? It was something very generic. A place where he beat people that never became anything like "The Beast" Billy West and Twiztid Angel. He was in a feud with someone called The Icon, an ironic name considering his career trajectory.
The two had a singles match and near the middle of the match, JC's neck decided it couldn't take basic bumps anymore. The move that ultimately put him out of action wasn't anything special. He wasn't powerbombed into the turnbuckles. He wasn't thrown off the top to the outside. He wasn't even dropped on his head. It was a simple vertical suplex, something that's happened to him more times than he could remember.
The move is designed to inflict pain on the mid and lower back, not the neck area. He felt something going wrong as The Icon wrenched him over and there was a "popping" feeling when his lower back took the brunt of the impact. It was like the vibrations from the fall were enough to finish the job that Calon Cross started three years prior.
He remembered trying to stand and being unable to. He knew immediately then that something was wrong. Before that, he had periods of tingling in his extremities and occasional numbness, but nothing like this. He was unable to do much of anything for several moments. The Icon capitalized and hit him with a few other moves. Each kickout was weak and he was unable to get himself up to unleash any offense. Finally, when he regained some feeling in his upper arms, he used the last remaining bit of his strength and pulled Icon into a small package to win.
He always considered the fact he won a minor miracle. He had to immediately quit the UWF and he was sure that he was called a coward by The Icon and every other person on the UWF roster that never went on to become anything special.
Now he stood and tried to look at the evidence of a year and a half of recovery. A long, nasty scar was the only evidence that he ever had anything wrong with him. A scar that would always remind him that discs in his neck were fused together because he pushed his body to its absolute limit.
All he wanted to do is look at it and his current method wasn't working. The big problem was his hair, which was still long, even though he had thoughts of cutting it. Right now he hated it, because it stopped him from seeing what he wanted to see. He tossed the hand mirror, a cheap item he picked up at a Dollar General, onto the bed and sighed in exasperation.
"Of all the places to get surgery, it had to be one where I couldn't tell if it's fading or not."
At that moment, his phone went off to let him know his friend and cameraman Josh was calling. He was still in that old school mindset in which he had to send in taped promos for every match. It was a practice he saw many changing, but he felt his ways worked. So he'd continue to employ his friend until he retired.
He answered the phone.
"What's happening, Josh?"
"I'm in the parking lot with the rental. Show's starting soon, man."
"Yeah I'll be down in a minute. I was getting my gear together."
Suddenly, he had a thought about how Josh could be useful to him.
"Actually, could you come up here for a minute? Bring your camera too, if you don't mind."
"You don't have a lady friend up there, do you? I swear Joe, I'm tired of walking in on your wild single life."
"No, I'm by myself. This is nothing like that. Just get up here, please."
"Sure. We've still got some time to kill."
He didn't need to be reminded that his match was starting soon. He was fighting a guy named Akira Kanemura in what would be the debut match for both. It was hard to research someone he hadn't heard of, so he focused on just making sure his own game as as good as it could be. He had a new move he wanted to try out that he was sure would get the job done.
There was a sharp rapping on the door and he turned the handle to open it. Josh let himself in while holding his camera. It was no longer the big bulky VHS camera they were used to, but a smaller and sleeker digital camera. Technology marches on.
"So, are we doing a promo? I thought the last one we did was fine."
"No, nothing like that. Does that thing take stills?"
"Well, if you paid attention when I told you the last time, you'd know it does. Video and photos, and I can upload it directly onto my computer within a minute. You don't remember this from the 'why VHS tapes are old news' speech I gave you last week?"
"I only hear maybe 50% of what you have to say."
The two shared a brief laugh. Joe was sometimes forgetful before a match, as his focus was solely on the competition. Josh knew this and liked to give him shit for it. That's what friends did, at least to Joe's understanding.
"I just wanted you to take a shot of my neck. I tried to look at it, but I don't have eyes in the back of my head so it's tricky."
"You wouldn't be able to see the scar then either. You can't see your throat now."
"That's what mirrors are for. Stop trying to be right and take the photo, please?"
Joe leaned forward and pulled his hair to the side, exposing the scar to his friend.
"Jesus, I've never seen it this close before."
"I've only really seen it through glances and photos that my doctor took, but it was still messy because he was changing bandages. I haven't really looked at it since the surgery. I was focused on rehabbing and making sure I could be in top shape for my return."
"You never had the intention of retiring, did you?"
"Josh, wrestlers always say they're going to retire. But not a single one of us can ignore that itch. Even those who can't do it anymore resort to staying involved with the business in some form. I'm not ready to become a grizzled old trainer yet. I'm still in my early thirties."
He heard a beep from behind him and then there was a flash of light. The same noises went off again and he noticed Josh taking a step back, indicating that the photo was taken. He left his hair go back to its resting place and stood up straight.
"So, how's it look?"
"Photo's great. Your scar looks fuckin' gross."
JC held out a hand and Josh gave him the camera to see the evidence for himself. He almost looked shocked when he saw it.
Scars were typically cleaner than this. It was properly healed, but the scar was definitely ugly. It was a straight line that widened in the middle, as if at some point the cut had split open in the middle and then healed that way. He didn't recall ever having any issues like that, so maybe it was just the nature of the cut. Either way, it was no longer the vibrant, angry red it was when he last saw it, after it had been washed of dried blood.
He didn't need to reach his hand up and feel it again to remember that it had smoothed over. It was simply an extra lump of skin in the middle of neck, yet somehow felt softer than the rest of his skin. He guessed it was because it was newer, but didn't dare to pretend he knew anything about the body's ability to restore itself. He would have to ask a doctor the next time he saw one.
"Yeah, you're right. It's a nasty one. At least it didn't dent like the one on my arm."
He ran his finger over it as he talked, it was in the back near his armpit. Josh looked over as if he hadn't noticed it before.
"Yeah, where'd you get that one?"
"3 Stages of Hell with Judgement. I think it was from hitting the cage."
"Good thing you're friends with that guy now."
"Yeah for all of the one time we've spoken since my surgery."
He looked back down at the photo of the purple glob of skin that stared back at him from its relatively new home. It was like an alien invader that had claimed his neck in the name of its warrior race. It disgusted him. He frowned, then tossed the camera back to Josh.
"Do me a favor and delete that."
"Why don't I just send it to you?"
"Yeah, I don't think I'm going to want to see it again."
He heard another beep, letting him know that Josh did as he asked. If there was one thing he could take away from this, it's that he didn't have nearly as many scars as his brother. He would never understand why Eric liked hardcore wrestling as much as he did. He figured he'd be a road map before he hung them up for good.
He took another glance at himself in the mirror. Not to see how he looked, but merely to see the wrestler he was now. The one that was preparing to return to the ring after years of absence. As if to prove a point to himself, he posed as he would for photo shoots. He heard his friend chuckle behind him and realized how silly he looked.
"I guess you're ready for Akira tonight."
"I'm definitely ready. He's not going to know what hit him."
"Well you're on first, so we should probably get to the arena."
"I'll meet you downstairs. Just need to grab my shirt."
Josh nodded and then left him in the room. He was definitely prepared for Akira Kanemura and he was going to leave with a win. In fact, he was going to make OWF his new stomping grounds and was prepared to propel himself to the top. Before this run was over, people were going to know his name, one way or another.
It was time to start building his legacy.
He threw on an old ICW shirt and took a final look at his reflection. He smiled and exited the room, prepared to write his next chapter.
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August 28, 2016It had only been three weeks since Blood Bath and JC was enjoying his time off. Not in the sense that he didn't miss wrestling, but he thought he missed normal life more. He had officially cycled onto his medicine. He wasn't sure if it was at the point where they should be working full time, but he knew he felt better. His doctor let him know that it would start working within six weeks and it would take months for full effect.
That meant he was still hearing the voice, although he was finding it easier to ignore. He hoped eventually it would fade completely. He knew it was still too early and he had his wife to make sure he stuck to the regimen and didn't give in to whatever that voice might say. She was taking care of him to the best of her ability, and his desire to get better gave him the extra willpower he needed.
One thing he appreciated her for was taking on all of the responsibilities herself. She was constantly working to transfer more duties to Michael, the head trainer at their gym. At least for now, neither of them were going to be able to go back to day-to-day operations there. In addition to that, she was making sure he took his medication and trying to keep his stress levels to a minimum, lest they trigger some sort of relapse. His doctor said he could handle stress in the future, but at the moment it was crucial that he take time off for rest and relaxation.
He observed all of this in the way you'd imagine a falling victim reacts to Superman catching them. He always maintained to her that she was the better of the two and this just proved that, in his eyes.
Now the two found themselves out and about at the Hudson Mall in Jersey City. JC had been confining himself, by his own will, to their home while he recovered. He only made excursions to talk with his psychiatrist and he was getting antsy. Since she needed to go shopping, he decided to go with her.
"So, are you feeling better now that you're out of the house?"
"I wasn't thinking 'mall' but I'll take what I can get."
"We can always hit the theater while we're here. I'm sure there's something worth watching."
"I think I'll pass, Stace. I'm kind of regretting being about among all of these people right now."
"You'd better get used to people if you want to return to the OWF soon."
He was feeling restless more often than not these days and they both knew why. He wanted to get back in the ring. They hadn't talked about it before now and they didn't need to. They knew it was a matter of when, not if, he would return to the ring. He had the itch and he felt he still had things to prove.
"I...don't know if I can even think about that right now."
"You want to go back, don't you?"
"I do. But I didn't want to bring it up."
"Because you thought I'd get upset?"
"No it's not that."
He stopped as the two passed a Gamestop in the food court, thinking he recognized someone. He ignored it and continued.
"I know you've never been a fan of my wrestling but I know you're not the type that would ever try to hold me back. I didn't want to talk about it because I'm not sure if I can go back."
"Joe, I know that when I met you, you were retired, but there wasn't a day when you weren't watching other promotions or trying to keep yourself in shape 'just in case'. Wrestling is who you are and I've grown to accept that. There is no reason why you couldn't go back and be just as dominant as you've always been."
"You'd think that, but I question how much of that was really me and how much...."
"Was the voice in your head?"
"Among other things."
They found a bench at the food court and sat down. This was clearly not a "walk around while shopping" conversation. Stacy set her bags down and took JC's hand into hers.
"Can I just say something, before you turn doubting yourself into your full time job?"
"What's that?"
"When you were at Blood Bath, you could have kicked Trent's face off in the middle of that ring."
He slightly tilted his head and gave her a stern look.
"Is this your definition of a pep talk?"
She laughed softly and reassuringly pat her husband's hand.
"Let me finish, jackass. You could have, but you didn't. I know you like to give me credit for pulling you back and Trent credit from making it worse, but here's the thing. I wasn't there. Trent was so beat down he couldn't have possibly stopped you."
He was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt but so far this was shaping up to be the worst pep talk he's ever heard in his life.
"There was only one person that, however brief, regained control and stopped you from ending a man's career. That's you. You did that. I'll never know how hard that was for you, but you did it. Not Trent, not me, you."
He took a few moments to think about this. He wasn't prepared to do anything but doubt himself at the moment, but Stacy was not going to let that happen. He thought maybe she was so grateful his role in her getting clean that she was going above and beyond to do the same for him.
"Okay, listen. That doesn't change the fact that I was far more aggressive off medication than I am with it. I'm worried I'll be coming back to fail."
"So what? If you fail, you fail. You've been a World champion four times, right? If you came back and to fail, what does it matter as long as you're doing it as yourself? You've got your sanity back, you've got me back."
It all made sense, but it didn't change the fact that the doubts were there. He simply returned her hand squeeze from earlier and smiled. He didn't want to argue her point when she was so passionately defending him from himself. However, he had another point to make.
"It's not even that. How can I even begin to prove to everyone that I'm not the man who terrorized the OWF? There are people there that hate me. I'm positive that not even Trent will forgive me for the things I've done. That's not even bringing up Eric, who's shared a company with me for months and has yet to even approach me."
"Who cares?"
"What?"
"You heard me. Who cares if you can't win them over? The wrestlers, the fans, your brother that just gave up on you? All that matters is that you prove what you want to prove to yourself. You don't need to prove it to me, I've seen it first hand. As for Trent, you won't know until you finally answer his call."
She caught him glancing off to the side again.
"Am I boring you?"
He glanced back and shook his head, realizing he was ignoring her a little. There was someone in the mall, walking through the food court, that he could swear he recognized.
"No, hon. It's nothing like that. It's just...I swear I know that guy. Give me a second."
As the man walked by, JC stood up and called out to him. He thought he'd the one to initiate contact, since the guy either didn't recognize him or wasn't interested.
"Josh?"
The man turned around and confirmed JC's suspicions. It was definitely Josh. The two hadn't seen each other in years and yet he looked like he hadn't aged, minus a new goatee. He took a step back and looked him over momentarily.
"Joe? Joe Cool?"
"Well, I don't go by that anymore. Hey Stace, this is Josh Black. He used to be my..."
"Cameraman. I shot his promos. Hi, how you are you?"
He stuck out a hand to Stacy who shook it and smiled, standing herself to greet him. JC tried to ignore the fact he was going to refer to Josh as his friend ahead of his job title.
"I'm Stacy Lee, Joe's wife. You worked for him?"
"Yeah, we traveled the road together. I was a sort of manager, I guess? I handled some business affairs but mostly I recorded his promos for shows. That sort of ended around '08."
"Why's that?"
"Well he..."
"I fired him."
It was JC who interrupted, as there was no sense in being coy. If it was going to come up, it was best he was the one who revealed the news and deal with the aftermath.
"Yeah. What he said."
Stacy looked at her husband and he silently tried to will her not to ask the question she was about to ask. It was the logical follow-up, but he didn't want to make this conversation more awkward than it was.
"Why did you do that?"
He lowered his head for a moment and sighed, before looking at Josh. He tried to think of a way to say this diplomatically. Josh spoke up instead. Stacy, meanwhile, looked like she was starting to piece things together. JC just wished he was telepathic so he could get her to switch conversation topics
"Things really didn't end well between us. We didn't agree on certain things."
"Was this around the time..."
The two sort of looked at each other and silently agreed that they knew what she was talking about. JC decided to let that point drop and move things in a different direction.
"Listen, Josh...it's sort of great that I ran into you. I should probably apologize about how things ended"
"There's no need. I have a good life now, a really good job. It's fine. People change."
"That's why I'm trying to say. I'm not the guy who fired you all those years ago."
Josh looked at him as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. When the two went their separate ways, it was not amicable. Josh disagreed with the things JC was doing to people in the ring and JC decided he had no use for him anymore. He couldn't remember if that was his own decision or a decision made by his illness. A lot of his past blurred together in that department, which made his current battle harder. There was no way to be sure how much of what he used to do was him and how much of it was his disorder. Either way, he was left to clean up the messes of his past self.
He looked at his former friend and tried to read him. They were never great friends, but they did bond while traveling the road for wrestling events. He wondered if Josh would buy what he was selling, because he wasn't exactly sure if he bought it at this point. He didn't need a voice in his head to let him know how awkward this was.
"If you say so, man. I haven't been following wrestling but I've heard things."
"This was a recent change."
"Right."
JC appreciated Stacy interjecting but he wondered if the situation was beyond saving. There was an undercurrent of distrust and dislike between the two that she wasn't really aware of. All anyone needed to know was that things ended badly, although JC seemed to recall threatening Josh at the time.
Now they all sat there uncomfortable. JC guessed that Josh didn't want to be there and he had nothing he could say to convince him otherwise.
"Listen, Josh...I'm really sorry about how I handled myself then."
"Like I said, it's in the past. It was nice seeing you again, Joe."
He turned away, taking this as the opportunity to avoid the unpleasantness. JC thought about it for a moment, then decided to do something he thought he might regret.
"Hey wait! While you're still in town we should all get together and try to start over. I'm sure you two would really get along."
"Yeah, that's a good idea, Joe!"
Josh turned back around and once again seemed lost in thought. He seemed like he didn't want to answer at all, but in what JC saw as an effort to just get out of there, finally nodded.
"That sounds fine. I'll be in touch."
He took off before the conversation could continue. Stacy put an arm around JC's and leaned against him as they watched him walk away.
"That didn't go well, did it?"
"No, I'm pretty sure I'll never see him again. He didn't even ask if I had the same number."
"I'm sorry, babe."
She pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss her husband on the cheek. He appreciated it. Josh being unwilling to forgive him bothered him, but it wasn't something he didn't see coming.
"You know, you do have someone else you could call. An actual best friend who put himself through hell for you."
"I'm not doing that. I knew this wouldn't end well and I know that wouldn't end well."
He had no doubts that when he tried to go back, no one would ever forgive him. He did too much wrong for too long. He wondered if it was even worth it to go back. Did he want to face the the firing squad? Did he want to lose every match and whatever respect anyone ever had for him? He thought maybe that's what should happen. Maybe the comeback was destined to fail, and maybe he was starting to think that he deserved it.
He tried to hide the fact he was hurt by turning to face her and forcing himself to smile.
"I don't need anyone else but you."
