Post by jackhammer on Sept 9, 2006 2:08:32 GMT -5
Sometimes in life a man has to stand up and be counted.
Wrapping my large brown leather jacket over my shoulders and rising up from the chair, I took a few moments to contemplate the enormity of the task at hand. Would Neil Armstrong bother to travel to the moon again? Did Sir Edmund Hillary ever think about venturing up Everest again? Of course, the answers to both of these questions is… irrelevant.
JackHammer is his own person and will continue to chase his own destiny, regardless of what has gone before him.
Carefully brushing a long strand of hair out of my eye line, I gazed out of my bedroom window towards the horizon. The sun seemed to offer it seal of approval to my quest with a faint nod in my direction as it bobbed just above the hillside backdrop. Cupping my face away from its golden glow momentarily, I felt my skin warm to its presence. My cheeks began to bubble with a healthy vibrancy about them and I realised that this was the first time I’d actually felt alive in a long time.
Too long.
“I was born to do this,” I pronounced with authority.
As I walked through the door and down the stairs, I nurtured each step with careful consideration. After all, this simply wasn’t a case of achieving a mission objective. No. This entire ordeal was about achieving a mission objective… and doing it with style.
Years from now, when the next wave of fresh faced rookies look to the past for inspiration, the chances are that all they will see is a list of names. History only ever manages to capture the facts, the solids, and the absolutes of an individual. It is, indeed, a very rare occurrence that history actually manages to capture the heart and soul of a person.
Christopher Columbus discovered America, but now he’s just a name in a text book. What was Columbus really like? Was he caring? Harsh? A bit of a dick? I don’t know. Nobody does. However, I’m determined to make sure that there’s one name that goes down in history that people actually remember as an individual, maybe even as a visionary that brought about a new way of thinking, but certainly more than just a mere name.
The blood that runs through my veins is, after all, worth more than mere letters alone.
And so, letting out a heavy sigh and exhaling deeply, I lifted the weight of the world upon my shoulders and strode towards the outside world once again. Avulsion was once again calling my name.
This time there would be no slip ups. This time there would be no distractions. This time…
It was time. The shaky hands of the silver clocked tiptoed their way past the dial marked “6” and signalled the arrival of the evening. It had been a chilly day in Chicago; a sleazy breeze had thrown a veil over the entire city, probably arguing the case for summer’s impending death and autumn’s resurrection. Still, life goes on.
“Mr. JackHammer, do you have anything to say about your title win?” squealed the latest in a long line of ferret-like reporters eager to return back to the nest with an exclusive. “You’re back on the front cover of Wrestling Times magazine, sir! It seems you’re causing quite the stir!”
He threw the bait out and waited for the bite.
Flattery is every good reporter’s trump card. You see, although I’d hate to confirm a stereotype that condemns the profession that has been good enough to provide me with a living, it is in fact true that the vast majority of wrestlers in this day and age are meat heads. Seemingly obsessed with either their physique or ego, any half witted journalist can land an interview simply by turning on the charm. However, I’ve spent years in this industry dealing with misfits of this sort and it’s this experience that has bought me immunity to such tricks.
JackHammer speaks only when he has something to say.
“I have no comment,” I said, beaming from ear to ear. Naturally, the smile killed the reporter’s bubbly facial expression as a look of stone overcame him.
Slamming the gym door shut with an authoritative bang, I turned to face the assortment of metal bars, treadmills and exercise bikes left at my disposal. The doctors had told me that getting back into shape was integral to any attempted comeback I might make – especially given the nature of my back injury. Still, as I peered out at the metallic wonderland that stared back at me with evil intentions, I couldn’t help but think life would be so much easier sat on the couch with a bottle of Bud.
“Fu*k. Where do I even start?”
Then, a voice bellowed from the Heavens… well, not quite the Heavens, the other side of the room actually.
“You could start by giving your sister a hug!”
Throwing an awkward glance to my left, I looked on as my eyes scrambled backwards and ran towards the rear side of my head.
“Laura!”
Standing to my right and wearing a stunning red trouser suit was none other than one of the women that had helped propel my career into stardom in the first place. Laura Beumont. Laura was a failed Hollywood actress that now earned her cash in smaller productions such as TV pilots that rarely made it to even the smallest of screens. Secretly, she hated the fact that her career had plunged deeper than the Grand Canyon’s lowest point, but hey, bills had to be paid… even at the expense of self respect.
The last time I’d laid eyes on Laura she’d been on the run from the police because of some bogus drugs scandal. The cops had, wrongly, accused her of aiding smugglers in transporting cocaine over from Cuba. Hollywood is infamous for its coke users, but Laura had neither the financial clout or brains to pull off a massive drugs operation. Besides, in my eyes, she’d always be the sweet, little girl that helped me through a few hard times back home.
What exactly was she doing here though?
“What brings you to this part of town then, sis?” I asked, releasing the hug and staring at the gleam in her eye excitedly.
“Well, I figured I was due a vacation and all. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, you know? It just seemed like you transformed from this small time show athlete to the wrestling superstar I see before me today overnight! So, I decided why not buy tickets to go and watch your next show? It makes sense, don’t you think?” she said with a giggle.
“I guess so!” I said, although I really wasn’t too sure.
Laura continued to give me the once over with a constant stare that suggested she was somewhat in awe of me. I hate it when that happens.
“Why don’t you go and get changed out of that silly little costume you’ve got there and then you can take me to dinner? I’d say we’ve got a lot of catching up to do!” she blurted out suddenly.
Pausing for a moment as I pondered over whether or not to decline her invitation and actually work out, I once again looked around the room as the shiny faces of hurt seemed to pop up in every corner. The treadmills seemed to grin at me, the dumbbells cackled and the rowing machines… well, they just nodded in agreement too, I guess.
“Well,” I began, sighing at my lack of mental strength. “I guess you twisted my arm.”
And with that, I hopped off back to the changing rooms with newfound dreams of three course meals at the forefront of my thinking.
I am only facing Ace this week though, right? Oh well, the gym can wait.
It’s this sort of uncompromising, determined attitude that I attribute as the sole reason to my success
Wrapping my large brown leather jacket over my shoulders and rising up from the chair, I took a few moments to contemplate the enormity of the task at hand. Would Neil Armstrong bother to travel to the moon again? Did Sir Edmund Hillary ever think about venturing up Everest again? Of course, the answers to both of these questions is… irrelevant.
JackHammer is his own person and will continue to chase his own destiny, regardless of what has gone before him.
Carefully brushing a long strand of hair out of my eye line, I gazed out of my bedroom window towards the horizon. The sun seemed to offer it seal of approval to my quest with a faint nod in my direction as it bobbed just above the hillside backdrop. Cupping my face away from its golden glow momentarily, I felt my skin warm to its presence. My cheeks began to bubble with a healthy vibrancy about them and I realised that this was the first time I’d actually felt alive in a long time.
Too long.
“I was born to do this,” I pronounced with authority.
As I walked through the door and down the stairs, I nurtured each step with careful consideration. After all, this simply wasn’t a case of achieving a mission objective. No. This entire ordeal was about achieving a mission objective… and doing it with style.
Years from now, when the next wave of fresh faced rookies look to the past for inspiration, the chances are that all they will see is a list of names. History only ever manages to capture the facts, the solids, and the absolutes of an individual. It is, indeed, a very rare occurrence that history actually manages to capture the heart and soul of a person.
Christopher Columbus discovered America, but now he’s just a name in a text book. What was Columbus really like? Was he caring? Harsh? A bit of a dick? I don’t know. Nobody does. However, I’m determined to make sure that there’s one name that goes down in history that people actually remember as an individual, maybe even as a visionary that brought about a new way of thinking, but certainly more than just a mere name.
The blood that runs through my veins is, after all, worth more than mere letters alone.
And so, letting out a heavy sigh and exhaling deeply, I lifted the weight of the world upon my shoulders and strode towards the outside world once again. Avulsion was once again calling my name.
This time there would be no slip ups. This time there would be no distractions. This time…
It was time. The shaky hands of the silver clocked tiptoed their way past the dial marked “6” and signalled the arrival of the evening. It had been a chilly day in Chicago; a sleazy breeze had thrown a veil over the entire city, probably arguing the case for summer’s impending death and autumn’s resurrection. Still, life goes on.
“Mr. JackHammer, do you have anything to say about your title win?” squealed the latest in a long line of ferret-like reporters eager to return back to the nest with an exclusive. “You’re back on the front cover of Wrestling Times magazine, sir! It seems you’re causing quite the stir!”
He threw the bait out and waited for the bite.
Flattery is every good reporter’s trump card. You see, although I’d hate to confirm a stereotype that condemns the profession that has been good enough to provide me with a living, it is in fact true that the vast majority of wrestlers in this day and age are meat heads. Seemingly obsessed with either their physique or ego, any half witted journalist can land an interview simply by turning on the charm. However, I’ve spent years in this industry dealing with misfits of this sort and it’s this experience that has bought me immunity to such tricks.
JackHammer speaks only when he has something to say.
“I have no comment,” I said, beaming from ear to ear. Naturally, the smile killed the reporter’s bubbly facial expression as a look of stone overcame him.
Slamming the gym door shut with an authoritative bang, I turned to face the assortment of metal bars, treadmills and exercise bikes left at my disposal. The doctors had told me that getting back into shape was integral to any attempted comeback I might make – especially given the nature of my back injury. Still, as I peered out at the metallic wonderland that stared back at me with evil intentions, I couldn’t help but think life would be so much easier sat on the couch with a bottle of Bud.
“Fu*k. Where do I even start?”
Then, a voice bellowed from the Heavens… well, not quite the Heavens, the other side of the room actually.
“You could start by giving your sister a hug!”
Throwing an awkward glance to my left, I looked on as my eyes scrambled backwards and ran towards the rear side of my head.
“Laura!”
Standing to my right and wearing a stunning red trouser suit was none other than one of the women that had helped propel my career into stardom in the first place. Laura Beumont. Laura was a failed Hollywood actress that now earned her cash in smaller productions such as TV pilots that rarely made it to even the smallest of screens. Secretly, she hated the fact that her career had plunged deeper than the Grand Canyon’s lowest point, but hey, bills had to be paid… even at the expense of self respect.
The last time I’d laid eyes on Laura she’d been on the run from the police because of some bogus drugs scandal. The cops had, wrongly, accused her of aiding smugglers in transporting cocaine over from Cuba. Hollywood is infamous for its coke users, but Laura had neither the financial clout or brains to pull off a massive drugs operation. Besides, in my eyes, she’d always be the sweet, little girl that helped me through a few hard times back home.
What exactly was she doing here though?
“What brings you to this part of town then, sis?” I asked, releasing the hug and staring at the gleam in her eye excitedly.
“Well, I figured I was due a vacation and all. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, you know? It just seemed like you transformed from this small time show athlete to the wrestling superstar I see before me today overnight! So, I decided why not buy tickets to go and watch your next show? It makes sense, don’t you think?” she said with a giggle.
“I guess so!” I said, although I really wasn’t too sure.
Laura continued to give me the once over with a constant stare that suggested she was somewhat in awe of me. I hate it when that happens.
“Why don’t you go and get changed out of that silly little costume you’ve got there and then you can take me to dinner? I’d say we’ve got a lot of catching up to do!” she blurted out suddenly.
Pausing for a moment as I pondered over whether or not to decline her invitation and actually work out, I once again looked around the room as the shiny faces of hurt seemed to pop up in every corner. The treadmills seemed to grin at me, the dumbbells cackled and the rowing machines… well, they just nodded in agreement too, I guess.
“Well,” I began, sighing at my lack of mental strength. “I guess you twisted my arm.”
And with that, I hopped off back to the changing rooms with newfound dreams of three course meals at the forefront of my thinking.
I am only facing Ace this week though, right? Oh well, the gym can wait.
It’s this sort of uncompromising, determined attitude that I attribute as the sole reason to my success
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