Post by Chief Tom-O-Hawk on Jun 18, 2016 2:27:15 GMT -5
Chicago, IL
Who the hell is that?
It's not a question anyone expects to ask themselves as they look at a man they used to know fairly well. Acid Burn stood at the mirror, his thumb and forefinger clutching the knot near his throat as he adjusted his tie when he caught a short glimpse of the stranger. By all logic it shouldn't have been hard to figure out where the man had come from. He knew where he lived, knew where he grew up... there was no secret the man had that others didn't know. So who the hell was he?
Just what Freezer Burn needed this morning... an unwanted distraction. The defining of his existence had been the last thing on his mind. He'd been more concerned with whether the long, silk cloth, a solid field of light purple except for the intermittent, darker streaks of the same, hanging from his neck matched the black, pinstriped shirt that draped his torso. Any other day a simple color scheme might not have concerned him as much. Any other day it would have been good enough. There wasn't much in the world that's capable of detracting from the Armani suit he was sporting. However it wasn't about good enough.
Not today.
Today it was about business. Not just business... business long overdue. It was hard to even remember to even remember a time when business hadn't been the last thing he thought about before he went to bed and the first thing that broke through the fog when he woke up in the morning. Freezer Burn had been walking the Earth for a long time and it seemed like there was never a day that he didn't have something to prove to somebody. For the most part that somebody was himself, but there was another man in the equation. The only one who's opinion he actually gave a damn about besides his own. It was him. He was that unfinished business.
He was the only one Freezer Burn felt a need to prove himself to.
It had been such a long time since he'd been to see him. The thought of how long he'd neglected to do it embarrassed him. After all the man had given him yet Freezer Burn hadn't looked him the eyes in what seemed like forever. Sure forever was overstating it, but years wasn't. Just moments before his epiphany he'd been trying to understand why that was in between straightening himself up in front of the mirror over the sink when the answer materialized right in front of him. He raised his eyes and there it was.
It seemed there was a dichotomy to revelation.
The answer seemed deeper than anything he'd ever tried to fathom before. Yet it couldn't have been any simpler. The dark brown irises reflected the light from the five set of bulbs that hung above the mirror as he looked himself. The glanced couldn't have been milliseconds at first. He'd only looked to get an overview of how his ensemble was coming together as there was nothing there that he hadn't seen before. Only there was something there. Something he had never noticed before.
Freezer Burn peered into his own eyes for a moment and stranger peered back. Sure, the man in the mirror was reminiscent of someone he thought he knew, but there was no way he could mistake him for the same person.
He looked into his own eyes and froze. The tie was right where it was supposed to so there was no point in using that as an excuse to ignore what he was seeing. His hands slowly slide down to his sides. His bald head cocked to the side ever so slightly, wondering if the picture in front of him was like one of those holograms where the picture shifted with a change of angle. It was no use.
The stranger was still there.
What in the world was this? How the hell do you lose track of yourself? How do you wake up one day and look into the mirror and see a man you don't really know?
The questions shook him for a little while as he locked eyes with himself, trying to figure out what had changed. Freezer Burn knew people changed, growing and evolving as life put them through their paces, but it didn't seem right that the change could happen while he wasn't paying attention. It's not like he'd ever been apart from himself. Or had he? It was only when he asked himself that question that atmosphere had become volatile enough for that lightning bolt to strike. He suddenly realized what was different.
It was the eyes.
They say they're the windows to the soul and Freezer Burn had always been inclined to believe that. There were plenty of other assets women had that drew his eyes, but he'd always been a sucker for the eyes. It didn't matter what they were wearing or how they smiled or what they whispered in your ear, you could always tell what a girl really wanted for you by looking in them in the eyes. For better or worse they give you away. Now his eyes were doing the same. Thing was he wasn't sure what they were giving away.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there anymore. This little riddle was surely something that could wait, yet he couldn't allow himself to do that. This puzzle was more than superficial, demanding to be solved. And then, just like the stranger who stared back at him through the looking glass, the answer simply materialized from the ether. It was the rage.
Sure, it floated around the edges, tinting the fringes just a bit, but it didn't dominate. Not any more. Just like he'd always had someone to prove something to it had always pissed Freezer Burn off that people never took him at his word. The streets... the ring... it never seemed to matter. No matter how many times he'd said what he'd do and did what he said no one seemed to quite trust the next promise. Whenever he thought about the doubts in the past it had only served to infuriate him. Really it still did, but now he realized there was more to it than that.
They fueled him.
Their doubts were venomous... acidic. They would've eaten a hole in the gut of most, but for Freezer Burn they only sparked a fire that propelled him forward like an engine. The strain of the job only intensified him. Pain and anger? Simply alternative fuels to stoke the fire with. Look hard enough and it was easy to see, flickering behind his eyes. And when he moved forward, there was no stopping it... even when he wanted to. It was no different than his name sake. The name Freezer Burn hadn't just fallen out of the sky. It was passed on, a name given from family while holding onto the wrestling legacy..
The thing was the man in the mirror... there was no fire. No rage.
Damn.
This was a bad time to lose that. With title opportunities and main event matches landing in his grasp. Hell even some half pint, teenie bopper that might weigh a buck-five soaking wet thought she could take a crack at him. At him... a 240 pound man who, at one time in his life that had heard grown men beg him for their lives... who stuffed another man in the trunk of a car and pushed it off the top of a parking garage.
Part of him just figured it was the cost of the legacy. Had everybody else saw what he was just seeing now? Had they noticed the normal fire was gone? Was he a chump to be taken down or just an easy mark? If he wasn't who he had been, who the hell was he now?
Yeah, this was great.... His first real title opportunity in the WCF against a little man self believing himself a legend, he'd have loved to take lightly, but knew he didn't have the luxury to, an appointment he'd been putting off for far too long to do it anymore and now what? Some bullshit existential crisis?
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Freezer Burn sighed deeply as he straightened his body, pulling himself back from the mirror. Still the stranger stared at him from the other side of reality. What exactly happened to make him a stranger to himself was a true quandary and it continued to gnaw at him as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the main room of his suite.
The mid-morning light of Chicago was a momentary distraction from any identity crisis he was dealing with. He stepped to the middle of the room, occupying the open space between the semi circle of brown, suede leather couches and the queen size bed and looked. Just looked... He took another deep breathe almost as if the filling his lungs would allow him trully take in the world that was now his.
The wall of his room doubled as the his window to the outside. The 30 feet of glass left plenty room for the light of his favorite city to pour through the slightly tinted windows, the soft glow of the day gently setting off the highlights of the maple wood furniture. Outside the city twinkled like a star even in the daylight. Freezer Burn stepped up to the glass wall and stood over the city like he'd done many times before. Only, the last time, he was just a kid standing on the gravel roof of a 20-story shit hole that passed as habitable. Just another young stud the city was chomping at the bit to grind into another number... another statistic.
Now?
Freezer Burn slid his hands into the pockets of a suit that, back in the day, would have paid 3 months rent. He only turned his eyes from the glittering view of a city he spent so much time plotting to conquer from that rooftop he could almost make out from his suite at the Hyatt-Regency for another panorama that sparkled about as brightly. He stood above the world... on top of the food chain... exactly where he fought so hard to be. And maybe... just maybe... that was the problem.
Everybody knew the song... 'Mo' Money, Mo' Problems'. Could it be his problem was getting everything he dreamed about? Maybe the stranger didn't have fire in his eyes because the fire was gone. Squelched by a flood of cash, fame and respect? How ironic would that be? Burning to get everything you dream about and losing the fire because you get it. Spoiled by the luxury of it all, all the while every jackass with the same dream creeps up from behind, just waiting for the chance to knock you off the mountain.
Freezer Burn suddenly felt inspired to adopt a punch drunk, muddled, Brooklyn accent. If he was gonna wind up living out the plot of Rocky II he should at least play the part. He chuckled softly to himself at the notion. Luckily it was only a passing thought. Just too many drawbacks. First and foremost was the fact he'd never met any chick named Adrienne that wasn't ugly. Hell the one from the movie wasn't even all that. More than all that... all bullshit aside... Freezer Burn didn't care for the part he'd play in the plot. The champ on top of the world, knocked the fuck out and left wondering if he could get back on his feet?
Fuck all that.
That shit may have been dramatic in the fucking movies, but that kinda bullshit wasn't gonna fly. Blood, sweat, sacrifice. He'd be God damned before he ever let that shit happen. All the blood, sweat and sacrifice would belong to whoever the fuck thought they could take it from him. And the janitors would be earning those half-assed paychecks of theirs by mopping the pools of it off the floor and squeegeing it off the motherfucking walls or wherever the fuck else it splattered when he reached out and touched the cocksuckers that thought they could take what he took for himself.
Whoa..... What the hell was that?
With his eyes locked on the title Freezer Burn hadn't even noticed his grin turn to a sneer. The transition from admiring how far he'd come in a life where he started from the bottom to wishing harm on anyone who would try knock him off the top was almost imperceptible. He slipped back so easily into that familiar place... and he knew flames when he felt them. They were smoldering now, just under the surface, the energy putting every nerve ending on high alert as if violence... his own, could break out at any moment. And if it was that easy to go back there how is it the man in the mirror didn't display it. The strangers eyes glowed like Freezer Burn's had always done, but the energy... it was different somehow, totally unfamiliar. Perhaps the Freezer Burn he saw a few moments ago wasn't so different than the one he'd always known himself to be, but still there was a difference.
What was it?
Freezer Burn turned his eyes out to the city that made him and thought back. Back to when it all started. Suddenly, trying to understand where he was now opened the flood gates to the past and it all flooded in. It hurt like hell, but considering where he was going he knew he had to suck it up. He needed answers for the new end he'd come to so now he had to think back to the beginning because...............
Freezer Burn hadn't always been Freezer Burn.
***** ***** *****
August 8, 1984
Chicago, IL
As the plane hit the tarmac Wayne wondered if that goofy grin he just realized he was sporting had been with him since he'd taken off. It was a 22 hour flight from Tokyo. That would be an awfully long time to be grinning like an idiot. Thing is he just couldn't help it. He'd never experienced anything like it and every time the thought about it, it was like he was right back there...
1.... 2.... 3!!!
There was no way to describe the roar. No, that wasn't true. Actually it was easy to describe it... Deafening. No sooner had the referee's hand hit the mat than the arena exploded. The whole time he'd been in the country Wayne could never quite believe how tiny the Japanese were. Back in the US Freezer Burn was kinda big, but never towering by any means at 6'5". Here he might as well have been Godzilla. That's why it never ceased to amaze him that, even with an arena packed to the gills like this one was, such tiny people could make this much noise.
It was the kind of roar that effected your entire body, the sound waves reverberating through your chest. It was kind that moved you. Nope, the roar was easy to describe. It was the effect that was hard to put into words.
There was no high like it.
Freezer Burn rose from the chest of his masked opponent with the help of the ref, who clutched his wrist. The sweat rolled down his chest as the high of the crowd killed the ache of his body. He couldn't remember the name of the little man in the mask still laying on the canvas, but it didn't really matter at this point. The ref shoved Wayne's hand into the air and the crowd exploded yet again.
There wasn't a time in his life that he would ever have believed that this would be happening to him, but reality refused to be denied on this one. 20 years old... in a foreign country... no one staring because he fit the profile, but because he was 'exotic'... making the same kinda cash he would have hustling on the corner from sun down to sun up, for a few minutes in the ring punching some punk in the mouth. It was the God damn American dream. He wasn't quite sure what it meant that he had to come to another country to get it, but that was neither here nor there.
'Black Betty' hit the PA in the arena as the ring announcer yelled out his unintelligible announcement, declaring 'Mr. Pain' Wayne Hammon the winner. Wayne slid out of the ring under the bottom rope and made his way up the aisle in his Timberland boots and torn, acid washed jeans. Every time he'd made it, whether he was headed towards the ring or the locker room, it was a long walk. And when they cheered like this... it wasn't nearly long enough.
He wasn't stupid and held no delusions of grandeur. Hell he was just the opening match and they were probably only cheering because they had enough saki and beer in them not to, too much give a crap what they saw. But that made no difference. Wayne paused at the entryway and turned back to slowly sweep his eyes over the crowd. He needed to hear them just one more time, shoving his taped fists into the air. It was a small pop, but that was good enough.
Wayne whipped the curtain into the back with the rest of the boys. In the month he'd been there he was surprised just how many people were there from other countries. He was one of a couple of dozen, though he was by far the youngest. Wayne had been having too much fun to even really attempt to understand the type of honor it was to be allowed here as, what was really amounted to an unproven talent. But it's like the old saying goes, it's not what you know, but who.
Good thing Wayne knew Iseah. It's easy to know a geniune legend, being one is the hard part.
Back in Siberia they called him 'The Russian Bear'. Iseah always told him it was because he mauled his opponents. Wayne always felt the need to jab him, countering that it was because he was so damn scarred. In all honesty Wayne figured it was a six of one, half a dozen of the other kind of situation when it came to the man who taught him how to stand toe to toe with anyone in the ring. At least that's what he always consciously gave Iseah credit for. But in the back of his head he knew it went deeper than that. He'd given him an example of how to be a man.
The man had won championships on just about every continent back in the 50s and 60's, but does he kick his feet up when he retires? Nope. He opens a gym back in south side of Chicago. Not only that, but he uses his connections to folks on the city council to open a new program for kids locked up in juvenile hall. They get their education, keep their nose clean and he teaches them how to fight in a ring. The idea was likely that somewhere along the line they'd learn a little discipline and respect to boot.
How or why Iseah chose to lock his sights on some scrawny, undersized, loud mouth punk who thought he was tough never really mattered to Wayne. Iseah always said he saw something that no one else had... a fire behind the eyes. 'Mr. Pain' wasn't really sure what he meant by that, but it never really mattered. He just knew when he stepped through the ropes he was ready to go. And when Iseah said it to his connections in Japan they must have still had a hell of a lot of respect for him because they damn sure listened.
For all the tough talk you'd get from him, down deep, Iseah was a big softy and he knew it. Wayne had asked him to take him to the airport the morning he was leaving for Japan, but Iseah claimed he couldn't make it, some kind of appointment he just couldn't miss. More likely 'The Bear' couldn't take the chance of getting weepy. Wayne decided to respect that and not push, though there would have been no shame in it. What else would a father do when his only son goes off to conquer the world. There didn't need to be any blood relation. Neither of them even had to say it. It was a good thing because it would never happen. Iseah couldn't say it... Wayne couldn't say it...
Like father like son.
'Hey boy!' Wayne heard the moment he stepped out of the gate. The terminal was full of people greeting each other, the echo of airport announcements ringing through the PA, but there was still no way to miss that growl. As usual the crowd parted when Iseah stepped through. Not many people have what it takes to stay in the path of a 6'10", 320 pound man that, now that Wayne saw him again, kind of looked like a homicidal maniac.
Iseah grinned through that thick, salt and peppered beard as he stepped closer to the gate. Freezer Burn hoisted his equipment bag even higher onto his shoulder and stepped forward, the two meeting in the middle. Iseah's barrel chest poked out a bit farther than usual as he stared down at his young protoge, just returning from his first tour. It had been a long hard road with this kid, trying to keep his head on the ring rather than the streets, but he knew it would be worthwhile.
Wayne gave his father, his mentor a grin of his own, holding out his hand to slap his greeting. Instead he was suddenly enveloped in a set of massive arms as the trademark rumble of Iseah's laughter echoed in his ears. It was unusual for Iseah to be that up front, but he was happy to see him too. So happy Wayne didn't want to dampen the spirit of the moment by pointing out he couldn't breathe very well. Honestly it was kind of fitting that a man that once used the bearhug as his finishing move would receive someone with a bear hug. One of these days he'd have to mention to Iseah how bad an idea it was to greet friends by slapping them in the same hold he used as a finisher during his days in the ring. No rush on that though.
There would always be time.
***** ***** *****
The classic Cadillac cruised down the ramp to the surface streets below the expressway. The south side never looked so beautiful. Hell the south side never looked beautiful at all until that night. Wayne couldn't believe how good it felt to be here. He leaned his head to the side, tilting his head towards the window so he could feeling the flow of the night time Chicago air. The whole way from the airport Iseah had been filling Wayne in on the happenings inside the gym since he'd been gone. It just wasn't anything he could concentrate on though. Could this really be his life? Could this really what it would be like? Could he really escape this place? He did for a little while.
Anything was possible.
'You listening to me?' Iseah grumbled, throwing Wayne an irritated glance.
'Huh?' Wayne answered as if he'd just been awakened for some kind of trance.
'Glad to see your little trip ain't changed you too much.' Iseah responded to his befuddled utterance. 'Paying close attention as usual.'
'Oh...' Wayne responded, his mind finally catching on to what was being said to him. 'Sorry. Just trying to take it all in man. It's good to be home.'
'Mmmhmm... Yeah, well don't get to used to it. You got another trip to make here real soon.'
'Right, I get home for two seconds, enjoying the week off, now your telling me of a schedule change!'
'Boy, calm your ass down. You're not facing some no name punk. I still have my friends in the industry, and apparantly you've done pretty damn good for yourself... even though you were a bad influence on some of their guys.
'Bad influence?'
'It ain't customary for legends to go out on the town every night drinking and sniffing out girls. At least not until you got there.'
'Hahahaha... Hey man, you know how it works. The continent may change, but the game remains the same.'
'Like I said before, Mmmhmm... Well I suggest you change up your game before you get where you're going. Now you did your job well with minor little belts, I'll give it to you. No matter what kinda stupid crap you was doing on your own time, you handled your business. But... you do something stupid and make these folks close their eyes and they'll bounce your ass out of there so quick your damn head will spin. You hear me?!'
'First of all, what you yelling for man?! Hell, what I do on my time is my business. Whoever don't like that can kiss my ass, KISS MY ASS.'
'Oh, is that so?'
'You damn right.'
'Oh... well... I hate to hear that. I guess I'll just call back Ric Flair and tell him to stick this little match .. as you would put it.. up his ass.'
The world is only supposed to freeze in the movies. Time isn't supposed to be able to alter itself at will, but apparently nobody had informed time of this. Iseah's words hung in the air like they were dangling from strings. No way he said that... it's just not possible. No way Flair wanted to step into the ring against me when he should be looking for a number one contender. It just wasn't possible... Right?
'Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.... Whoooooa.... Hold up...' Wayne stuttered after finally finding enough control to make his lips move. 'What did you just say?'
'Huh?' Iseah responded coyly.
'C'mon man!' Freezer Burn yelled.
'Oh, sorry man... just trying to take it all in man.'
'Man, don't play with me Dad... Did you just say in the ring .. with Flair?'
'Huh? Oh yeah, but I mean it ain't no thing. You ain't interested. They insist that you keep yourself in check while you're getting yourself ready to go into the big time on television and pay-per-view. You'd way rather go out drinking and chasing girls that do something like that so I'll just tell them you ain't interested.'
'You do and I swear I'll run you over in this damn hooptie!'
'First of all... this ain't no damn hooptie boy, this is a American classic! Second of all... Don't be wasting my time, your time or theirs. Either you're gonna show some discipline or you stay the hell home.'
'Dad... Don't be dumb man. You know me. I ain't about to throw this away man. You know that.'
Iseah paused for a moment, throwing another glance in Wayne's direction. It only took a glance to know the Wayne meant what he was saying.
'You're right there boy.' Iseah said. 'You're right there at the big time. Gonna be plenty of people who are gonna tell you, you don't have what it takes. You just keep believing in you. You do that you'll be champion of the world one day. And know this. You're experienced with a whole world to fight. It's easy to make it to the top with that. I've seen a whole bunch of fellas do it, but the thing is they didn't know how to make the transition. You remember... You ain't gonna be alive forever. You're not going to have the energy to fight anyone and everyone that has the nerve to run their mouth about you forever. But the thing is... you don't wanna do that anyway. I know it seems like that's how it's supposed to be, but it's not. Eventually you've got to grow from a legend to a god. A man may not have the energy to fight the world, but when you're a man you don't need it. It ain't about words and insults. It's not about getting to where you're going. It's about focusing your energy so you can stay where you're at. Any kid can be a champion. It takes a man to stay the champion. Now how do you want to be remembered years from now is up to you.'
***** ***** *****
Normally when Iseah had a big speech to make it was customary to check out half way through, but somehow he knew this was something he needed to hear. Why did he have to wait to right then to give indespensible advise Wayne couldn't ignore? Maybe if Wayne had checked out early like he usually did he would have caught the reflection of that Explorer with it's lights off creeping up behind the 'American Classic' they were in. Maybe the first hint that his old life was refusing to let him move on to the new one he wanted. Maybe if he'd known that he and Iseah could have both ducked. Maybe if they'd ducked maybe he wouldn't be....
Fuck that.
Damn what if's. Freezer Burn knew he should've learned his lesson about that a long time ago. They'll only eat you alive. Freezer Burn shook off the instinct to wallow and crouched down on the green lawn as he layed the Siberian Heavyweight Championship Belt at the foot of the granite marker. The boy had finally turned into a man. He hadn't recognized the transition this morning, but thinking back to the past he got perspective for the present. The stranger was no stranger, just who he was always meant to become. God.
Freezer Burn's eyes glided over the smooth, shiny surface of the rectangle in the thick, lush grass.
Iseah 'Russian Bear' Hammon aka Freizer Burn
July 4, 1932 - July 25, 1984
'Thanks for the heads up Freezer Burn' responded to the words that rang in his head as if he'd just heard them 5 minutes ago.
As always Iseah had just the words Freezer Burn needed to hear. Flair had deserved to face a championship worthy match, instead was stuck with a distracted man, not even a wrestler that first night. But now with the funeral finalised, and all concience removed, there would be only blood in the future.
Flair found that out in our second match. Making Flair tap out in his own figure four. Then .. then there was the Flair incident. Now .. now is the WCF.
All hail me.
Who the hell is that?
It's not a question anyone expects to ask themselves as they look at a man they used to know fairly well. Acid Burn stood at the mirror, his thumb and forefinger clutching the knot near his throat as he adjusted his tie when he caught a short glimpse of the stranger. By all logic it shouldn't have been hard to figure out where the man had come from. He knew where he lived, knew where he grew up... there was no secret the man had that others didn't know. So who the hell was he?
Just what Freezer Burn needed this morning... an unwanted distraction. The defining of his existence had been the last thing on his mind. He'd been more concerned with whether the long, silk cloth, a solid field of light purple except for the intermittent, darker streaks of the same, hanging from his neck matched the black, pinstriped shirt that draped his torso. Any other day a simple color scheme might not have concerned him as much. Any other day it would have been good enough. There wasn't much in the world that's capable of detracting from the Armani suit he was sporting. However it wasn't about good enough.
Not today.
Today it was about business. Not just business... business long overdue. It was hard to even remember to even remember a time when business hadn't been the last thing he thought about before he went to bed and the first thing that broke through the fog when he woke up in the morning. Freezer Burn had been walking the Earth for a long time and it seemed like there was never a day that he didn't have something to prove to somebody. For the most part that somebody was himself, but there was another man in the equation. The only one who's opinion he actually gave a damn about besides his own. It was him. He was that unfinished business.
He was the only one Freezer Burn felt a need to prove himself to.
It had been such a long time since he'd been to see him. The thought of how long he'd neglected to do it embarrassed him. After all the man had given him yet Freezer Burn hadn't looked him the eyes in what seemed like forever. Sure forever was overstating it, but years wasn't. Just moments before his epiphany he'd been trying to understand why that was in between straightening himself up in front of the mirror over the sink when the answer materialized right in front of him. He raised his eyes and there it was.
It seemed there was a dichotomy to revelation.
The answer seemed deeper than anything he'd ever tried to fathom before. Yet it couldn't have been any simpler. The dark brown irises reflected the light from the five set of bulbs that hung above the mirror as he looked himself. The glanced couldn't have been milliseconds at first. He'd only looked to get an overview of how his ensemble was coming together as there was nothing there that he hadn't seen before. Only there was something there. Something he had never noticed before.
Freezer Burn peered into his own eyes for a moment and stranger peered back. Sure, the man in the mirror was reminiscent of someone he thought he knew, but there was no way he could mistake him for the same person.
He looked into his own eyes and froze. The tie was right where it was supposed to so there was no point in using that as an excuse to ignore what he was seeing. His hands slowly slide down to his sides. His bald head cocked to the side ever so slightly, wondering if the picture in front of him was like one of those holograms where the picture shifted with a change of angle. It was no use.
The stranger was still there.
What in the world was this? How the hell do you lose track of yourself? How do you wake up one day and look into the mirror and see a man you don't really know?
The questions shook him for a little while as he locked eyes with himself, trying to figure out what had changed. Freezer Burn knew people changed, growing and evolving as life put them through their paces, but it didn't seem right that the change could happen while he wasn't paying attention. It's not like he'd ever been apart from himself. Or had he? It was only when he asked himself that question that atmosphere had become volatile enough for that lightning bolt to strike. He suddenly realized what was different.
It was the eyes.
They say they're the windows to the soul and Freezer Burn had always been inclined to believe that. There were plenty of other assets women had that drew his eyes, but he'd always been a sucker for the eyes. It didn't matter what they were wearing or how they smiled or what they whispered in your ear, you could always tell what a girl really wanted for you by looking in them in the eyes. For better or worse they give you away. Now his eyes were doing the same. Thing was he wasn't sure what they were giving away.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there anymore. This little riddle was surely something that could wait, yet he couldn't allow himself to do that. This puzzle was more than superficial, demanding to be solved. And then, just like the stranger who stared back at him through the looking glass, the answer simply materialized from the ether. It was the rage.
Sure, it floated around the edges, tinting the fringes just a bit, but it didn't dominate. Not any more. Just like he'd always had someone to prove something to it had always pissed Freezer Burn off that people never took him at his word. The streets... the ring... it never seemed to matter. No matter how many times he'd said what he'd do and did what he said no one seemed to quite trust the next promise. Whenever he thought about the doubts in the past it had only served to infuriate him. Really it still did, but now he realized there was more to it than that.
They fueled him.
Their doubts were venomous... acidic. They would've eaten a hole in the gut of most, but for Freezer Burn they only sparked a fire that propelled him forward like an engine. The strain of the job only intensified him. Pain and anger? Simply alternative fuels to stoke the fire with. Look hard enough and it was easy to see, flickering behind his eyes. And when he moved forward, there was no stopping it... even when he wanted to. It was no different than his name sake. The name Freezer Burn hadn't just fallen out of the sky. It was passed on, a name given from family while holding onto the wrestling legacy..
The thing was the man in the mirror... there was no fire. No rage.
Damn.
This was a bad time to lose that. With title opportunities and main event matches landing in his grasp. Hell even some half pint, teenie bopper that might weigh a buck-five soaking wet thought she could take a crack at him. At him... a 240 pound man who, at one time in his life that had heard grown men beg him for their lives... who stuffed another man in the trunk of a car and pushed it off the top of a parking garage.
Part of him just figured it was the cost of the legacy. Had everybody else saw what he was just seeing now? Had they noticed the normal fire was gone? Was he a chump to be taken down or just an easy mark? If he wasn't who he had been, who the hell was he now?
Yeah, this was great.... His first real title opportunity in the WCF against a little man self believing himself a legend, he'd have loved to take lightly, but knew he didn't have the luxury to, an appointment he'd been putting off for far too long to do it anymore and now what? Some bullshit existential crisis?
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Freezer Burn sighed deeply as he straightened his body, pulling himself back from the mirror. Still the stranger stared at him from the other side of reality. What exactly happened to make him a stranger to himself was a true quandary and it continued to gnaw at him as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the main room of his suite.
The mid-morning light of Chicago was a momentary distraction from any identity crisis he was dealing with. He stepped to the middle of the room, occupying the open space between the semi circle of brown, suede leather couches and the queen size bed and looked. Just looked... He took another deep breathe almost as if the filling his lungs would allow him trully take in the world that was now his.
The wall of his room doubled as the his window to the outside. The 30 feet of glass left plenty room for the light of his favorite city to pour through the slightly tinted windows, the soft glow of the day gently setting off the highlights of the maple wood furniture. Outside the city twinkled like a star even in the daylight. Freezer Burn stepped up to the glass wall and stood over the city like he'd done many times before. Only, the last time, he was just a kid standing on the gravel roof of a 20-story shit hole that passed as habitable. Just another young stud the city was chomping at the bit to grind into another number... another statistic.
Now?
Freezer Burn slid his hands into the pockets of a suit that, back in the day, would have paid 3 months rent. He only turned his eyes from the glittering view of a city he spent so much time plotting to conquer from that rooftop he could almost make out from his suite at the Hyatt-Regency for another panorama that sparkled about as brightly. He stood above the world... on top of the food chain... exactly where he fought so hard to be. And maybe... just maybe... that was the problem.
Everybody knew the song... 'Mo' Money, Mo' Problems'. Could it be his problem was getting everything he dreamed about? Maybe the stranger didn't have fire in his eyes because the fire was gone. Squelched by a flood of cash, fame and respect? How ironic would that be? Burning to get everything you dream about and losing the fire because you get it. Spoiled by the luxury of it all, all the while every jackass with the same dream creeps up from behind, just waiting for the chance to knock you off the mountain.
Freezer Burn suddenly felt inspired to adopt a punch drunk, muddled, Brooklyn accent. If he was gonna wind up living out the plot of Rocky II he should at least play the part. He chuckled softly to himself at the notion. Luckily it was only a passing thought. Just too many drawbacks. First and foremost was the fact he'd never met any chick named Adrienne that wasn't ugly. Hell the one from the movie wasn't even all that. More than all that... all bullshit aside... Freezer Burn didn't care for the part he'd play in the plot. The champ on top of the world, knocked the fuck out and left wondering if he could get back on his feet?
Fuck all that.
That shit may have been dramatic in the fucking movies, but that kinda bullshit wasn't gonna fly. Blood, sweat, sacrifice. He'd be God damned before he ever let that shit happen. All the blood, sweat and sacrifice would belong to whoever the fuck thought they could take it from him. And the janitors would be earning those half-assed paychecks of theirs by mopping the pools of it off the floor and squeegeing it off the motherfucking walls or wherever the fuck else it splattered when he reached out and touched the cocksuckers that thought they could take what he took for himself.
Whoa..... What the hell was that?
With his eyes locked on the title Freezer Burn hadn't even noticed his grin turn to a sneer. The transition from admiring how far he'd come in a life where he started from the bottom to wishing harm on anyone who would try knock him off the top was almost imperceptible. He slipped back so easily into that familiar place... and he knew flames when he felt them. They were smoldering now, just under the surface, the energy putting every nerve ending on high alert as if violence... his own, could break out at any moment. And if it was that easy to go back there how is it the man in the mirror didn't display it. The strangers eyes glowed like Freezer Burn's had always done, but the energy... it was different somehow, totally unfamiliar. Perhaps the Freezer Burn he saw a few moments ago wasn't so different than the one he'd always known himself to be, but still there was a difference.
What was it?
Freezer Burn turned his eyes out to the city that made him and thought back. Back to when it all started. Suddenly, trying to understand where he was now opened the flood gates to the past and it all flooded in. It hurt like hell, but considering where he was going he knew he had to suck it up. He needed answers for the new end he'd come to so now he had to think back to the beginning because...............
Freezer Burn hadn't always been Freezer Burn.
***** ***** *****
August 8, 1984
Chicago, IL
As the plane hit the tarmac Wayne wondered if that goofy grin he just realized he was sporting had been with him since he'd taken off. It was a 22 hour flight from Tokyo. That would be an awfully long time to be grinning like an idiot. Thing is he just couldn't help it. He'd never experienced anything like it and every time the thought about it, it was like he was right back there...
1.... 2.... 3!!!
There was no way to describe the roar. No, that wasn't true. Actually it was easy to describe it... Deafening. No sooner had the referee's hand hit the mat than the arena exploded. The whole time he'd been in the country Wayne could never quite believe how tiny the Japanese were. Back in the US Freezer Burn was kinda big, but never towering by any means at 6'5". Here he might as well have been Godzilla. That's why it never ceased to amaze him that, even with an arena packed to the gills like this one was, such tiny people could make this much noise.
It was the kind of roar that effected your entire body, the sound waves reverberating through your chest. It was kind that moved you. Nope, the roar was easy to describe. It was the effect that was hard to put into words.
There was no high like it.
Freezer Burn rose from the chest of his masked opponent with the help of the ref, who clutched his wrist. The sweat rolled down his chest as the high of the crowd killed the ache of his body. He couldn't remember the name of the little man in the mask still laying on the canvas, but it didn't really matter at this point. The ref shoved Wayne's hand into the air and the crowd exploded yet again.
There wasn't a time in his life that he would ever have believed that this would be happening to him, but reality refused to be denied on this one. 20 years old... in a foreign country... no one staring because he fit the profile, but because he was 'exotic'... making the same kinda cash he would have hustling on the corner from sun down to sun up, for a few minutes in the ring punching some punk in the mouth. It was the God damn American dream. He wasn't quite sure what it meant that he had to come to another country to get it, but that was neither here nor there.
'Black Betty' hit the PA in the arena as the ring announcer yelled out his unintelligible announcement, declaring 'Mr. Pain' Wayne Hammon the winner. Wayne slid out of the ring under the bottom rope and made his way up the aisle in his Timberland boots and torn, acid washed jeans. Every time he'd made it, whether he was headed towards the ring or the locker room, it was a long walk. And when they cheered like this... it wasn't nearly long enough.
He wasn't stupid and held no delusions of grandeur. Hell he was just the opening match and they were probably only cheering because they had enough saki and beer in them not to, too much give a crap what they saw. But that made no difference. Wayne paused at the entryway and turned back to slowly sweep his eyes over the crowd. He needed to hear them just one more time, shoving his taped fists into the air. It was a small pop, but that was good enough.
Wayne whipped the curtain into the back with the rest of the boys. In the month he'd been there he was surprised just how many people were there from other countries. He was one of a couple of dozen, though he was by far the youngest. Wayne had been having too much fun to even really attempt to understand the type of honor it was to be allowed here as, what was really amounted to an unproven talent. But it's like the old saying goes, it's not what you know, but who.
Good thing Wayne knew Iseah. It's easy to know a geniune legend, being one is the hard part.
Back in Siberia they called him 'The Russian Bear'. Iseah always told him it was because he mauled his opponents. Wayne always felt the need to jab him, countering that it was because he was so damn scarred. In all honesty Wayne figured it was a six of one, half a dozen of the other kind of situation when it came to the man who taught him how to stand toe to toe with anyone in the ring. At least that's what he always consciously gave Iseah credit for. But in the back of his head he knew it went deeper than that. He'd given him an example of how to be a man.
The man had won championships on just about every continent back in the 50s and 60's, but does he kick his feet up when he retires? Nope. He opens a gym back in south side of Chicago. Not only that, but he uses his connections to folks on the city council to open a new program for kids locked up in juvenile hall. They get their education, keep their nose clean and he teaches them how to fight in a ring. The idea was likely that somewhere along the line they'd learn a little discipline and respect to boot.
How or why Iseah chose to lock his sights on some scrawny, undersized, loud mouth punk who thought he was tough never really mattered to Wayne. Iseah always said he saw something that no one else had... a fire behind the eyes. 'Mr. Pain' wasn't really sure what he meant by that, but it never really mattered. He just knew when he stepped through the ropes he was ready to go. And when Iseah said it to his connections in Japan they must have still had a hell of a lot of respect for him because they damn sure listened.
For all the tough talk you'd get from him, down deep, Iseah was a big softy and he knew it. Wayne had asked him to take him to the airport the morning he was leaving for Japan, but Iseah claimed he couldn't make it, some kind of appointment he just couldn't miss. More likely 'The Bear' couldn't take the chance of getting weepy. Wayne decided to respect that and not push, though there would have been no shame in it. What else would a father do when his only son goes off to conquer the world. There didn't need to be any blood relation. Neither of them even had to say it. It was a good thing because it would never happen. Iseah couldn't say it... Wayne couldn't say it...
Like father like son.
'Hey boy!' Wayne heard the moment he stepped out of the gate. The terminal was full of people greeting each other, the echo of airport announcements ringing through the PA, but there was still no way to miss that growl. As usual the crowd parted when Iseah stepped through. Not many people have what it takes to stay in the path of a 6'10", 320 pound man that, now that Wayne saw him again, kind of looked like a homicidal maniac.
Iseah grinned through that thick, salt and peppered beard as he stepped closer to the gate. Freezer Burn hoisted his equipment bag even higher onto his shoulder and stepped forward, the two meeting in the middle. Iseah's barrel chest poked out a bit farther than usual as he stared down at his young protoge, just returning from his first tour. It had been a long hard road with this kid, trying to keep his head on the ring rather than the streets, but he knew it would be worthwhile.
Wayne gave his father, his mentor a grin of his own, holding out his hand to slap his greeting. Instead he was suddenly enveloped in a set of massive arms as the trademark rumble of Iseah's laughter echoed in his ears. It was unusual for Iseah to be that up front, but he was happy to see him too. So happy Wayne didn't want to dampen the spirit of the moment by pointing out he couldn't breathe very well. Honestly it was kind of fitting that a man that once used the bearhug as his finishing move would receive someone with a bear hug. One of these days he'd have to mention to Iseah how bad an idea it was to greet friends by slapping them in the same hold he used as a finisher during his days in the ring. No rush on that though.
There would always be time.
***** ***** *****
The classic Cadillac cruised down the ramp to the surface streets below the expressway. The south side never looked so beautiful. Hell the south side never looked beautiful at all until that night. Wayne couldn't believe how good it felt to be here. He leaned his head to the side, tilting his head towards the window so he could feeling the flow of the night time Chicago air. The whole way from the airport Iseah had been filling Wayne in on the happenings inside the gym since he'd been gone. It just wasn't anything he could concentrate on though. Could this really be his life? Could this really what it would be like? Could he really escape this place? He did for a little while.
Anything was possible.
'You listening to me?' Iseah grumbled, throwing Wayne an irritated glance.
'Huh?' Wayne answered as if he'd just been awakened for some kind of trance.
'Glad to see your little trip ain't changed you too much.' Iseah responded to his befuddled utterance. 'Paying close attention as usual.'
'Oh...' Wayne responded, his mind finally catching on to what was being said to him. 'Sorry. Just trying to take it all in man. It's good to be home.'
'Mmmhmm... Yeah, well don't get to used to it. You got another trip to make here real soon.'
'Right, I get home for two seconds, enjoying the week off, now your telling me of a schedule change!'
'Boy, calm your ass down. You're not facing some no name punk. I still have my friends in the industry, and apparantly you've done pretty damn good for yourself... even though you were a bad influence on some of their guys.
'Bad influence?'
'It ain't customary for legends to go out on the town every night drinking and sniffing out girls. At least not until you got there.'
'Hahahaha... Hey man, you know how it works. The continent may change, but the game remains the same.'
'Like I said before, Mmmhmm... Well I suggest you change up your game before you get where you're going. Now you did your job well with minor little belts, I'll give it to you. No matter what kinda stupid crap you was doing on your own time, you handled your business. But... you do something stupid and make these folks close their eyes and they'll bounce your ass out of there so quick your damn head will spin. You hear me?!'
'First of all, what you yelling for man?! Hell, what I do on my time is my business. Whoever don't like that can kiss my ass, KISS MY ASS.'
'Oh, is that so?'
'You damn right.'
'Oh... well... I hate to hear that. I guess I'll just call back Ric Flair and tell him to stick this little match .. as you would put it.. up his ass.'
The world is only supposed to freeze in the movies. Time isn't supposed to be able to alter itself at will, but apparently nobody had informed time of this. Iseah's words hung in the air like they were dangling from strings. No way he said that... it's just not possible. No way Flair wanted to step into the ring against me when he should be looking for a number one contender. It just wasn't possible... Right?
'Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.... Whoooooa.... Hold up...' Wayne stuttered after finally finding enough control to make his lips move. 'What did you just say?'
'Huh?' Iseah responded coyly.
'C'mon man!' Freezer Burn yelled.
'Oh, sorry man... just trying to take it all in man.'
'Man, don't play with me Dad... Did you just say in the ring .. with Flair?'
'Huh? Oh yeah, but I mean it ain't no thing. You ain't interested. They insist that you keep yourself in check while you're getting yourself ready to go into the big time on television and pay-per-view. You'd way rather go out drinking and chasing girls that do something like that so I'll just tell them you ain't interested.'
'You do and I swear I'll run you over in this damn hooptie!'
'First of all... this ain't no damn hooptie boy, this is a American classic! Second of all... Don't be wasting my time, your time or theirs. Either you're gonna show some discipline or you stay the hell home.'
'Dad... Don't be dumb man. You know me. I ain't about to throw this away man. You know that.'
Iseah paused for a moment, throwing another glance in Wayne's direction. It only took a glance to know the Wayne meant what he was saying.
'You're right there boy.' Iseah said. 'You're right there at the big time. Gonna be plenty of people who are gonna tell you, you don't have what it takes. You just keep believing in you. You do that you'll be champion of the world one day. And know this. You're experienced with a whole world to fight. It's easy to make it to the top with that. I've seen a whole bunch of fellas do it, but the thing is they didn't know how to make the transition. You remember... You ain't gonna be alive forever. You're not going to have the energy to fight anyone and everyone that has the nerve to run their mouth about you forever. But the thing is... you don't wanna do that anyway. I know it seems like that's how it's supposed to be, but it's not. Eventually you've got to grow from a legend to a god. A man may not have the energy to fight the world, but when you're a man you don't need it. It ain't about words and insults. It's not about getting to where you're going. It's about focusing your energy so you can stay where you're at. Any kid can be a champion. It takes a man to stay the champion. Now how do you want to be remembered years from now is up to you.'
***** ***** *****
Normally when Iseah had a big speech to make it was customary to check out half way through, but somehow he knew this was something he needed to hear. Why did he have to wait to right then to give indespensible advise Wayne couldn't ignore? Maybe if Wayne had checked out early like he usually did he would have caught the reflection of that Explorer with it's lights off creeping up behind the 'American Classic' they were in. Maybe the first hint that his old life was refusing to let him move on to the new one he wanted. Maybe if he'd known that he and Iseah could have both ducked. Maybe if they'd ducked maybe he wouldn't be....
Fuck that.
Damn what if's. Freezer Burn knew he should've learned his lesson about that a long time ago. They'll only eat you alive. Freezer Burn shook off the instinct to wallow and crouched down on the green lawn as he layed the Siberian Heavyweight Championship Belt at the foot of the granite marker. The boy had finally turned into a man. He hadn't recognized the transition this morning, but thinking back to the past he got perspective for the present. The stranger was no stranger, just who he was always meant to become. God.
Freezer Burn's eyes glided over the smooth, shiny surface of the rectangle in the thick, lush grass.
Iseah 'Russian Bear' Hammon aka Freizer Burn
July 4, 1932 - July 25, 1984
'Thanks for the heads up Freezer Burn' responded to the words that rang in his head as if he'd just heard them 5 minutes ago.
As always Iseah had just the words Freezer Burn needed to hear. Flair had deserved to face a championship worthy match, instead was stuck with a distracted man, not even a wrestler that first night. But now with the funeral finalised, and all concience removed, there would be only blood in the future.
Flair found that out in our second match. Making Flair tap out in his own figure four. Then .. then there was the Flair incident. Now .. now is the WCF.
All hail me.
