Post by Skyler Striker on Feb 12, 2017 11:31:10 GMT -5
No, I never really chased my dream
Never tried to catch a shooting star
Not really sure how my dream found me
I guess that's the way you are
Never tried to catch a shooting star
Not really sure how my dream found me
I guess that's the way you are
The WCF studios for the week are an absolute shambles. There are discarded coffee cups everywhere, chairs strewn about and somehow a vague approximation of a backdrop is set up in the corner of whatever shack the boys in accounting hired for the week. None of this, of course, bothers Zach Davis, the ever-present play-by-play commentator for the Wrestling Championship Federation. He has seen far worse scenes than this one, and so he is some version of happy in his chair, camera and Cameraman Joe by his side, awaiting his next guest. His newspaper is company enough for now after being abused by a particularly ungrateful newcomer in his previous interview. The requirements for television and advertising can be more trouble than they're worth for someone as unappreciated as Davis, but he is resolute each and every week, because occasionally, someone worth talking to – really talking to – walks into the room.
Striker: Good to see you, Zach.
This week, thinks Davis, looking up at the figure of WCF veteran Skyler Striker, might be worth it.
Davis: Skyler! It's good to see you. How are you?
Striker: I'm getting by, man, getting by. Where do you want me?
Davis: Oh, the chair just there, take a seat. Thanks so much.
Striker obliges, making himself as comfortable as is possible in the chair provided. Davis watches Striker as he prepares himself for the interview. It is ten years since Striker debuted in a WCF ring against a man he would become famous wrestling against: Danny Vice. Davis remembered Striker's story very clearly – a young man who had worked the indie circuit in America for years, then experienced a short series of personal tragedies which drove him to retreat to Japan to train and hone his craft for seven years, taking with him a newborn baby girl. It was upon his return to the States that Striker joined the WCF and began re-finding his feet, a task to which he had committed thoroughly.Within two years, Striker had become a Grand Slam winner, a War winner, a strong case for future Hall of Fame status and left the company a firm fan favourite.
The man in front of Davis was very different to that Skyler Striker.
Looking him over, Davis used his keen memory to observe a few small details about Striker. First, his eyes were extremely red. Once upon a time, Davis recalled, Striker had worn red contacts. A quirk of his youth, absolutely, but these were no contacts – the jagged red lines which ran across both eyes were real. Striker was – what, 37? - years old now, so if he'd been going through an intense fitness regimen or something similar to get him back into fighting shape that might explain it. Of course, there could be any number of logical explanations, but it did give Davis a question for him to ask Striker in a few moments.
Second, as Striker moved his cup of coffee from the table to his lips, Davis noticed the tattoos on his right wrist which read 'J', 'J, and 'A' in quick succession now featured an arrow through them. From memory, Striker had three children, thought Davis, although he could only remember the name of the eldest, Jade. The young girl, an absolute prodigy for her age, had had her share of involvement with the WCF, including being abducted by Striker's foe Jack of Blades. Why the tattoo of the letters now featured an arrow Davis could not say for certain. Jade's mother had never surfaced, that much he knew. Either way, more interview material.
Finally, there was something... about Striker. He just looked different. He was obviously older – ten years beyond the young rookie who had called himself 'The Fury Crusader'. There were no grey hairs, and he had hardly lost any of the tone in the muscles on his arms, but a maturity now resided within him. That, however, was not what Davis was noticing. There was something he just could not quite put his finger on, something he could not read about Striker in this moment, but something that a question should be asked about. By the end of the interview he would know.
Cameraman Joe: Ready when you are, Zach.
Davis: Right. Let's start, shall we? You know the drill by now I'm sure, Skyler?
Striker: Let's do it.
A few seconds of silence for camera's sake – and for Davis to try and put his finger on what he's missing – and the interview starts.
Striker: Its been a long time, man.
Davis: You don't have to tell me. The fans keep track of all of this stuff, but no-one expected you to come back last week on Slam and then on top of that to announce you're returning with a challenge for Gravedigger of all people! Care to give us any insight as to why you're calling out Gravedigger specifically?
Striker: Well, first and foremost I think Gravedigger is an exceptionally skilled wrestler. He knows this business and this company inside and out. I think he's a challenging opponent, and before you can tell me, yes, I know he's on a bit of a tough run at the moment. Yes, maybe there are more challenging opponents out there for me to fight. But I remember that match which Gravedigger and I fought at One, many years ago. I won that match then, and it was hard. Really hard. And so I want to use that match as the measuring stick. I want to see how I stack up against the standard I set for myself all those years ago. That's why it's Gravedigger. For now.
Davis notes the wry grin on Striker's face as he says those last two words. Striker is by no means the first veteran to return to a WCF ring because of 'the itch'. This is something Davis plans to bring up later on. That grin, though, the corners of Striker's mouth creeping ever so slightly up, is an indication that Striker may have bigger plans than merely a single fight against Gravedigger.
Davis: Tell me about your training. How have you prepared to come back to the WCF? The standard here is still very high, and if you'll forgive me saying so, you aren't getting younger. 37 is well above the average age of the wrestlers in this company. Do you have what it takes to compete at the highest level?
Striker: You already know that I'm going to tell you I wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't think I was capable.
Davis: I know that, but the cameras don't – and again, you'll have to pardon my forwardness here, but it wouldn't be the first crisis of confidence you've had here in WCF. Many fans will remember how the loss of your daughter to Jack of Blades almost triggered a total change in personality in you. Obviously ten years is plenty of life experience, but is it enough to prevent what some might perceive to be a fragile state of mind being a vulnerability for you?
Striker chuckles, an amused grin now crosses his features.
Striker: If it puts your mind and the fans' minds at ease, I'm not here to instigate a repeat of the Fury Crusader' deal.
Davis: No multiple personalities?
Striker: None of that. What you see in front of you is what you're getting.
Davis: This is true. Something I do see, though, and I promise I'm not trying to open you up to your opponents here; your bloodshot eyes. You didn't specifically refer to your training regimen last question – is your training at a high level of intensity? Or is something else going on?
Striker: Asking the hard questions as ever. Yeah, training is tricky. Don't mistake that to mean I've been slacking off for the past five years, though. I've remained fit because I always want to be ready to wrestle, amongst other things. I enjoy going out windsurfing, playing some league cricket back home in summer-
Davis: Very Australian of you.
Striker: Can't deny the roots, mate. Us and the poms, we love our cricket. But when I made the call to come back here – a few weeks, a month or so ago – I went and talked to my trainer, we talked it out, and I said to him: 'I want you to work me hard enough that I could be World Champion'. That's what I said. So that's what we're doing. It's high-level work, definitely.
Davis: Is that your goal, then? To be World Champion? The last time you came to WCF you had a World Title opportunity after winning the Trilogy Cup, a match you then went on to lose to Sarah Twilight. Will you be gunning for those heights again?
Striker: You know, Zach, I can't really give you a clear answer. I'm not a hundred percent sure whether I want to be WCF World Champion or not.
Davis: Is that mentality not a bit dangerous for a professional wrestler?
Striker: What do you mean?
Davis: Well, Stone Cold Steve Austin famously said that if you're in the business of professional wrestling and your aim isn't to be World Champion – to be the best at what you do – then you shouldn't be in the business. If you're coming here unsure of what you want-
Striker: Let me quickly jump in and say that that statement is very broad. What if you came in as a tag team wrestler? Should your aim to be the World Champion, or to be the Tag Team Champion? It's not as simple as Stone Cold makes it sound. WCF is a diverse company. People come here for all sorts of different reasons.
Davis: Let's put a pin in that, then, because I want to come back to that particular point later on. This week you're in a four-man tag team match-
Striker: A Seth Lerch clusterfuck special, you mean.
Davis gives Striker a knowing nod, observing the quiet grin on Striker's face.
Davis: A four man tag team match in which you barely have any relation to any of your three partners, let alone your four opponents. Let's start with your partners – is it going to be difficult for you, working alongside three other men who you don't have all that much in common with?
Striker: Hardly. This is what WCF lives on. It's not really a Slam card without a bunch of barely associated wrestlers coming together to fight each other. I've been in the ring with Frank before, so I know he's pretty capable of holding his own. And I trust the other two. There's not really much I can do except for fight my corner when I'm tagged in and hopefully be the difference between winning and losing.
Davis: And your opponents, Zero Tolerance? They're a pretty well known stable in the WCF these days. What do you make of them? A few of them have already had words to say to you this week.
Striker: Let's not split hairs here, Zach. Zero Tolerance are no different to any other stable who've graced the halls of WCF. Yeah, sure, they have their own goals and purpose and whatever, but they're a power play. They want to use numbers to make a mark, to intimidate, to threaten. I've been around the block too long for that to scare me. I can take a rough guess at what they've all had to say without even knowing their names – 'oh, this old guy, he was a world champ but now he's washed up, the federation has changed, we're the new big threat, and he's gonna learn he's not the big dog anymore'. It's a variation on the same line that gets thrown out over and over and over. You've spent even more time in this company than me, man, you know I'm right. To be frank with you, I'm excited. Not to face these guys in particular – it could be anyone, you know what I mean? I'm just stoked to be back around this place and to get back into wrestling. I'm keen to hear what Gravedigger has to say.
Davis: I'm sure we're going to hear something one way or the other. It's a challenge that's hard to ignore. Something I do want to ask you about, though, is your family. We all remember when Jack of Blades took your daughter Jade back-
As he speaks, Davis notices Striker's demeanour change rather suddenly. He shifts in his chair, then waves his hand at Zach, ushering the question away.
Striker: Sorry, but I gotta ask you to stay away from that one for now.
Davis: Touchy subject. Is everything okay, or-
Striker: Phrase the question however you like, man, but I'm asking a favour of you right now – there will be time to talk on that one. Trust me. It's just not something I'm prepared to go into detail on at the moment.
Davis: Alright – but I wouldn't be doing my job if I don't hold you to that in the future. Let's do something a little less intense then, maybe, a little fun for the fans watching this on WCF.com. I want to do a little word association with you. I'll throw out a name and you can give us a few words on what comes to mind.
Striker: Sounds fun. I'm down.
Davis: Awesome. Let's start with an obvious one: Seth Lerch.
Striker: Terrible human, reasonable businessman.
Davis: Torture.
Striker: He makes shirts, I think. Also face.
Davis: Jack of Blades.
Striker: Ruthless.
Davis: Sarah Twilight.
Striker: Tough. Hate her first name.
Davis: Sure thing. Danny Vice.
Striker: Where the hell is he.
Davis: Shannan Lerch.
Striker: Where the hell is SHE.
Davis: Pantheon.
Striker: Amorphous.
Davis: Bobby Cairo.
Striker: Batshit insane, but a brilliant mind.
Davis: GWC.
Striker: Good times, died too soon.
Davis: Gravedigger.
Striker: Legend.
Davis: Biohazard.
At this name Striker laughs out loud, a genuine moment of amusement isolated from what has been somewhat of a reserved superstar in Zach Davis' eyes.
Davis: One last name: Creeping Death.
Striker: That one fucking match at XIII that no-one is ever going to let me forget. I made a lot of mistakes that match, and it was a shame that I slipped up so badly. I'd love a rematch. Corey, if you're listening, I'm always down for another go-around.
Davis: Fair shout. I'm sure plenty of people would be interested to see that. We're almost at the end of our time for the interview, but I want to come back to what we put a pin in earlier and what I'd argue is the most important question I want to ask. Putting aside facing Gravedigger, what spurred the decision to come back here? Plenty of former stars make comebacks for all sorts of different reasons, but I know for a fact that you don't need the money-
Striker: Trust me, mate, if I needed the money, I wouldn't have come back to this place.
Even Davis can't help but laugh at this crack before continuing with his question.
Davis: So if it's not money, and assuming it's not a burning desire to face Gravedigger then return to a semi-retired lifestyle – what is it that brings Skyler Striker back to a WCF ring in 2017?
Davis watches Striker's expression. It's nothing particularly expressive, that is, but Davis can almost see the metaphorical cogs turning as Striker mulls over his answer. It is a big question, and one that bears thinking over. Ten seconds go past without a response, then twenty, then thirty.
It will be almost seventy-four seconds before Skyler Striker responds to this question.
*****
ONE MONTH AGO
You know those apartments which you see in anime? The ones which aren't particularly fancy but usually host families of two parents and one to two children? Well, that's the kind of apartment which is owned and, for a couple of months of the year, lived in by Skyler Striker.
There is not a lot to this particular apartment. Despite having earned plenty of cash in his time, the apartment is not lavishly decorated, nor tricked out with gadgetry. When you walk in the door, there is a plain living room with an attached kitchen. A few photos of old times sit on the dresser on the right – championship wins, good memories with old friends, a dusty old photo of a blurred face which you suspect Striker wants to remember exists but without a lot of detail. On the wall above the dresser are hung three canvas prints – faces of Striker's young children.
There are no signs that any of those children reside in this apartment.
The kitchen is filled with basic utensils – the only item left on the clean counter is a wok, well used by the look of it. The pantry is mostly bare save the mostly unused doorbell device; not unusual for a place of residence only inhabited for a few months per year. It is, however, like the rest of the kitchen, clean. The fridge contains a few beverages, some alcoholic (sweet ciders), some not (water, freshly-made pineapple juice). A small television is mounted on the wall of the living room, which is not separated from the kitchen space except for the island bench. The ceiling light is dim, casting light shadows here and there, though none of those by dust. A simple table, low to the ground with no chairs and mostly customary for this region of the world, is placed in the centre of the living room. A plain navy blue beanbag sits in the corner.
If you were to walk through the door to the right, you would see the small but space-efficient bedroom of Skyler Striker. The bed is unmade. A small candle flickers on top of the bedside table with a few books stacked beside it, including “The Art of War” by Sun Tzu (pretentious), The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle (intriguing) and the latest copy of F1 Magazine (pages flicked, indicating it has been finished). A set of black and white Adidas trainers lie discarded in the corner of the room along with a Burnley Football Club shirt.
The bathroom to the right of this is empty and of no interest at this point in time.
Back in the living room, one has a clear view of the outside balcony. This particular apartment is on the fifth floor of its building, and has a reasonable view of the city lights beginning to ignite in the dusk skyline. A famous modern bridge, a football stadium and a state-of-the-art library are all visible, making for quite the impressive spectatorship. There is little on the balcony itself – no table, no chairs. An opened bottle of cider sits on the balcony ledge, however, grasped by the hand of its owner and the owner of the apartment itself; Skyler Striker.
It has been a quiet three days. Striker has spent most of them on this balcony, staring at the world outside, isolated and far away from anyone with his contact details. It has been easier to escape, to sit here and not think and to just be a statue to the world at large, than to bear those same feelings and memories back in Australia or in the United States. We can all understand this – sometimes you wish to withdraw and just watch others go by. Your own problems can wait – they will be happy to wait until you return. Here, Striker is alone. Those who know he resides here for a few weeks every year are not even aware he is here right now.
The doorbell noise from the pantry rings.
Striker looks over his shoulder and waits. It's probably junk mail or a survey or some garbage that next door can deal with.
The doorbell rings again.
Striker makes the twelve and a half steps from the balcony edge to the front door. There is no glass to view them through – as soon as he answers, he is obligated to acknowledge to whoever is on the other side of the door that he is, in fact, home, and can at least temporarily communicate with them.
Striker opens the door.
There is a girl of approximately eighteen years of age on the doormat. She has curly, mousy brown hair and aqua green eyes, and a duffel bag lies at her feet. Before Striker can get a word out, the girl speaks.
Jade Striker: Hi, dad... mind if I crash with you for a while?
*****
It has been seventy-four seconds since Skyler Striker was asked the question.
Striker: I guess there was just something... missing.
I will not let my heart ache
I won't be treading water/waiting on a wave
No, no/I will not let my heart ache
I won't be treading water/waiting on a wave
No, no/I will not let my heart ache