Post by logan on Jan 22, 2006 11:15:16 GMT -5
1992
It was next year when me, and Frankie finally met in the ring. It was the most anticipated match in PWA history, and everyone tuned in to see it. Even my Mom. It was that very night of the match when I went to see her for the first time in two years. She had known I been a wrestler, finding out on T.V. before I actually told her the truth. She felt like I betrayed her because of the path I chosen in wrestling. I showed up at her front door, ringing the door bell as a weak woman appeared.
Logan: Mom, is that you?
With the little bit of strength she had left, she let off a faint smile.
Mom: Come in, Logan.
I stepped inside the house, the house which I grew up in. Many memories sprung to my mind, but I was more worried about her health at the time.
Logan: What's wrong?
Mom: Oh nothing..
I followed her into the kitchen, she slowly sat down, and I sat beside her. What was wrong with her? She looked pale, and so weak. I couldn't bring myself to look at her any longer, it make me feel guilty. I should've been here for her.
Mom: So, how is that wrestling going?
Logan: It's good. But, I'm not worried about that right now.. what's wrong?
Mom: Logan, I'm dying..
My brain didn't acknowledge it, and I was shaken in disbeilf. This wasn't real, it was only a dream I thought. Not her, she's too strong to die.
Logan: Don't say that.
Mom: I'm sorry, Logan. But I was diagnosed with terberkalocus a few years ago.
Logan: How come you never told me?
Mom: I didn't want it to get in your way, I seen you living your dream on the television, and I didn't want to spoil it.
This poor woman, she broke my heart. I watch her lean over, and cough out a bit of blood into a small pan she had. I rubbed her back, tears coming to my eyes. I couldn't stand seeing her like this, looking over her I knew she probably wouldn't have much time left. She cleared her throat.
Mom: Don't you have Frankie tonight?
Logan: Yes, but I won't go. I want to stay here with you.
Mom: You've always followed your dream before, what's stopping you now?
I put my face down into my arm, crying.
Mom: All I really wanted was the best for you, and I knew every day when I picked you up from school that you never really went. I knew you were living your dream, and I seen how happy it made you. It made me feel happy seeing you that way. Go on Logan, live your life.
Logan: I can't leave..
I fought through the sobs, making out the words.
Logan: I can't leave you here like this.
Mom: This is what you were born to do, and you will learn through life that this is just the way life is. People die Logan, and if it you can't accept it sooner or later you'll forever be lost.
A will power came over me, she was right. This wise old dying woman spoke her last words to me.
Mom: I'll be watching you on T.V., go live your dream Logan. Make me proud, son.
I kissed her forehead, and whipped away my tears. I looked at her, still in disbelief. If I knew this was the last time we'd talk, I would've thought of something better to say.
Logan: I'll be right back after the match.
Mom: See you then, honey.
I left the house that night, and knew that I must go to PWA to fight Frankie that night. When I arrived, there was interviewers all over the front entrance.
Interviewer: Logan, this match has been years in the making. What do you think the outcome will be?
I had nothing better to say.
Logan: SHUT UP!
I made my way inside the building, focused, determined, my heart filled with rage, and the will to win over powering me. I talked to no one as I walked down the hall way, an official approached me.
Official: We're all set, Frankie already made his entrance.. you ready?
I nodded, as I stepped through the black curtain. This was the moment of my life.
Announcer: From Chesapeake, Virginia.. weighing in at 249 pounds, The Three Piece Logan!
The crowd cheered, as I walked down the ramp staring emotionless at the ring with Frankie The Yankie standing inside. The old man was staring right back at me, ready to give the fight of his life.. ready to throw any bit last shot of energy he had left in that old heart. I walked up the steps, slipping into the ring through the middle rope. We went face to face. Teacher to student. Master to apprentice. Old school to new school. The 22 year old versus the 43 year old. Everyone in the arena chanted our names, it was the match to end all matches in PWA. I knew after this that Frankie wouldn't have nothing left in him, he'd just retire with the belt. But deep down inside I knew that my name got under his skin, it taunted him so bad that the little 17 year old boy he trained years ago was now fighting against him in the ring for the most anticipated bout that PWA had ever seen. But that wasn't the only thing on my mind, I was also thinking about my Mom at the time. I was thinking about her watching me at home, and if she was alright.
Frankie: You know this is my last match.
Logan: I know.
Frankie: Let's make it a good one.
And with that, the bell rang. Frankie threw the first punch, I threw one back, we showed off in the ring going back, and fourth with one another. Absorbing each others hits before taking it down to the wrestling of things. Frankie kneed me in the gut, before slinging down to the mat in a headlock take down. I grabbed his leg, pulling me down with him, and locked on a new move that I just started using, and learning how to do. The sharpshooter. I flipped Frankie over, locking the sharpshooter in. As he looked over at me.
Frankie: I never taught you that!
I applied pressure, leaning back a bit with his legs as I heard him yell behind me. It was over for Frankie, everyone in the arena knew it that night. Frankie couldn't escape, I had beat him in his own technical way. This old man was way past his prime anyway, all I had to do was keep the hold on. He had no struggle left in him. This was my match. I noticed the fight in Frankie growing less, and less as I kept onto the hold. It was only a matter of time before he tapped, or just passed out. But just then I seen the announcer walking out from the back, and coming by ringside to whisper something in the referees ear. I seen them talking low, and looking back to me with sad faces before the announcer left again.
Logan: What did he say?!
The referee looked on with a sad look, ignoring me. I let go of Frankie's legs, getting in front of the referee.
Logan: Damnit, what did he say?!
Referee: Your Mom, Logan.. she’s gone.
My throat felt like it wanted to drop into my stomach. The news broke me down, and now I felt weaker than Frankie. I quickly jumped out of the ring.
Referee: Logan if you leave I'll be forced to count you out.
I didn't care by now, as I ran up the ramp. Nothing mattered to me now about wrestling, I heard the ten count behind me as I left the arena, and the bell rang declaring Frankie The Yankie the winner. The building exploded with boos, I knew they wanted a better match.. but something was more important right now. I hopped into my old truck, speeding as fast as I could to my old house.. my moms house. But the time I got there, the ambulance had already left with my Mom. She was gone. I walked through my front yard, sitting down on my old front porch with my face in my hands. I had later learned that Frankie retired after the match, and I got fired for leaving. I didn't want to go back anyway. I had no real goal in live, nothing to live for. I simply lived for the moment. As I sat down on the porch, wondering what I was going do.. I looked down to see a military catalog. It was my only real chance then to try, and least make something of my life. I shaved my head, and signed up for the marines.
1993
When I arrived at boot camp, a few people noticed me from the PWA show. There was nothing but a bunch of young men running around, doing laps, jumping over fortalices, and diving off of ropes. This is what the military wanted, a bunch of young killing machines. I trained to be a marine for a long two years, and what I became was exactly what they wanted. I had nothing left, no parents, no friends, no love. I was just living for the day, and more every day I became better at what they were training me to be.. a marine.
1999
Seven years had past since I joined the military, and quit wrestling. I had never left, not once. I lived at the base for seven long years. What did I have to go back to anyway? I found something though. It was the day I got a special forces tattoo on my right shoulder, and the day that I left the military. I was sitting inside the bunkers, with a tattoo artist giving me a grade A tattoo of the American flag. I grew on to the military instincts, and long forgot wrestling. I always dreamed of it though, I always wondered what it would've been like if I would have tried to go back to PWA. I was 29 now, and in the best shape of my life. The military knew how to keep you in shape, that wasn't a lie. I watched wrestling from time, to time again whenever I'd get a chance. But today was the day that sparked an old feeling inside of me, a wrestling promotion titled "NWA" was new, fresh, and hot. It was ran by a inexperienced owner, his first real promotion, and he was looking for the best of the best. I was notified about it in my bunker via mail. When I read about it, it brought a spark to my eye that I hadn't seen since 1992. That gold feeling rushed back through me again, and I wanted to get back inside the ring as soon as I could. Wrestling had changed a lot since the late 80's, it had become more of entrainment. I didn't mind that one bit. I left the military that day heading for Florida where the NWA was hosted. But by the time I showed up, it was already on it's last hair. I talked to the owner.
Logan: What happened?
Mark: Ah, my budget ran up, I just wasn't getting enough ratings, or attention.. or ah.. too many things at once.
Logan: DAMNIT!
Mark: Wait, your that guy from PWA?
Logan: Yeah.
Mark: You were a hot pick when you left, a lot of wrestling promotions were wanting to sign you up. You were the biggest free agent of the early 90's, it took us a while to find out where you went.
Logan: I've been in the military the last seven years.
Mark: No outside life what so ever, huh?
Logan: Yeah, pretty much.
Mark: Well look man, there is a major promotion opening in Pennsylvania.
Logan: Really?
Mark: Yeah, the name is in the works now.. but I think their calling it WCA.
Logan: WCA?
Mark: Yup, that's where I'm heading.
I grinned.
Mark: Would you like to join me?
2000
By the time I got to Pennsylvania, the WCA was just opening. I found their headquarters, but no sign of Mark. Who knows what happened to him. While I was standing in front of the building, I noticed the words "WCF" on the front doors. Damnit, I had got the wrong promotion.. or maybe Mark mistaken. It didn't matter to me, I just wanted to get back into wrestling so bad. As I was standing there, a limo pulled up beside me. I didn't bother to see who it was, probably some hot shot trying to make a name in the WCF. As I walked up the entrance ramp towards the building, a voice spoke out behind me.
Voice: Can I help you?
I turned around to see two men, one wearing a suit, and one dressed up like a wrestler wearing casual street clothes.
Logan: Yeah, I want to join this WCF.
The wrestler spoke.
Voice: Well, just not anyone can join. What promotion did you come from?
Logan: PWA.
He laughed.
Voice: That place closed down like six years ago.
The man in the suit spoke up.
Voice: That's Three Piece Logan, he was pretty popular. I'm sorry man, my name is Seth Lerch, I'm Rick Mad's manager.
Logan: I'd prefer just Logan, this time.
Me and Seth Lerch shook hands.
Logan: You wouldn't happen to know who’s running this place, would you?
Rick Mad: That'd be me.
Well, that blew my mind.
Logan: I thought you would have been wrestling here.
Rick Mad: Well I am a wrestler, and a pretty successful one at that. You see, me, and Seth were in a promotion called NCW. It just closed down, and we wanted to continue their legacy by opening up this place. All the old NCW stars are coming over to WCF, and we're hoping to be as successful as NCW was. But for now, I'm running WCF.
Seth Lerch: If you'd like a contract, you can meet us in our office.
I followed them inside, and signed a contract with WCF. My first match was booked against Jax, a veteran of NCW. No one really thought I'd win, and it was the number one contender ship for the WCF US championship. I lost the three piece name, and just went with Logan. I defeated Jax, made a name for myself going undefeated under WCF, and won the first ever WCF US championship match. The rest is history..
2006.. Now.
My eyes let go of the airplane swimming through the sky, as I looked back down over the city. I had a good view from the top of this hill. My memories faded back away inside my head. Since then, I've won the WCF world title three times, the WCF television title, the WCF tag team titles, the WCF international title, the WCF US title two times, and The War III. This Sunday, I was set to make history once again.. and I would.
It was next year when me, and Frankie finally met in the ring. It was the most anticipated match in PWA history, and everyone tuned in to see it. Even my Mom. It was that very night of the match when I went to see her for the first time in two years. She had known I been a wrestler, finding out on T.V. before I actually told her the truth. She felt like I betrayed her because of the path I chosen in wrestling. I showed up at her front door, ringing the door bell as a weak woman appeared.
Logan: Mom, is that you?
With the little bit of strength she had left, she let off a faint smile.
Mom: Come in, Logan.
I stepped inside the house, the house which I grew up in. Many memories sprung to my mind, but I was more worried about her health at the time.
Logan: What's wrong?
Mom: Oh nothing..
I followed her into the kitchen, she slowly sat down, and I sat beside her. What was wrong with her? She looked pale, and so weak. I couldn't bring myself to look at her any longer, it make me feel guilty. I should've been here for her.
Mom: So, how is that wrestling going?
Logan: It's good. But, I'm not worried about that right now.. what's wrong?
Mom: Logan, I'm dying..
My brain didn't acknowledge it, and I was shaken in disbeilf. This wasn't real, it was only a dream I thought. Not her, she's too strong to die.
Logan: Don't say that.
Mom: I'm sorry, Logan. But I was diagnosed with terberkalocus a few years ago.
Logan: How come you never told me?
Mom: I didn't want it to get in your way, I seen you living your dream on the television, and I didn't want to spoil it.
This poor woman, she broke my heart. I watch her lean over, and cough out a bit of blood into a small pan she had. I rubbed her back, tears coming to my eyes. I couldn't stand seeing her like this, looking over her I knew she probably wouldn't have much time left. She cleared her throat.
Mom: Don't you have Frankie tonight?
Logan: Yes, but I won't go. I want to stay here with you.
Mom: You've always followed your dream before, what's stopping you now?
I put my face down into my arm, crying.
Mom: All I really wanted was the best for you, and I knew every day when I picked you up from school that you never really went. I knew you were living your dream, and I seen how happy it made you. It made me feel happy seeing you that way. Go on Logan, live your life.
Logan: I can't leave..
I fought through the sobs, making out the words.
Logan: I can't leave you here like this.
Mom: This is what you were born to do, and you will learn through life that this is just the way life is. People die Logan, and if it you can't accept it sooner or later you'll forever be lost.
A will power came over me, she was right. This wise old dying woman spoke her last words to me.
Mom: I'll be watching you on T.V., go live your dream Logan. Make me proud, son.
I kissed her forehead, and whipped away my tears. I looked at her, still in disbelief. If I knew this was the last time we'd talk, I would've thought of something better to say.
Logan: I'll be right back after the match.
Mom: See you then, honey.
I left the house that night, and knew that I must go to PWA to fight Frankie that night. When I arrived, there was interviewers all over the front entrance.
Interviewer: Logan, this match has been years in the making. What do you think the outcome will be?
I had nothing better to say.
Logan: SHUT UP!
I made my way inside the building, focused, determined, my heart filled with rage, and the will to win over powering me. I talked to no one as I walked down the hall way, an official approached me.
Official: We're all set, Frankie already made his entrance.. you ready?
I nodded, as I stepped through the black curtain. This was the moment of my life.
Announcer: From Chesapeake, Virginia.. weighing in at 249 pounds, The Three Piece Logan!
The crowd cheered, as I walked down the ramp staring emotionless at the ring with Frankie The Yankie standing inside. The old man was staring right back at me, ready to give the fight of his life.. ready to throw any bit last shot of energy he had left in that old heart. I walked up the steps, slipping into the ring through the middle rope. We went face to face. Teacher to student. Master to apprentice. Old school to new school. The 22 year old versus the 43 year old. Everyone in the arena chanted our names, it was the match to end all matches in PWA. I knew after this that Frankie wouldn't have nothing left in him, he'd just retire with the belt. But deep down inside I knew that my name got under his skin, it taunted him so bad that the little 17 year old boy he trained years ago was now fighting against him in the ring for the most anticipated bout that PWA had ever seen. But that wasn't the only thing on my mind, I was also thinking about my Mom at the time. I was thinking about her watching me at home, and if she was alright.
Frankie: You know this is my last match.
Logan: I know.
Frankie: Let's make it a good one.
And with that, the bell rang. Frankie threw the first punch, I threw one back, we showed off in the ring going back, and fourth with one another. Absorbing each others hits before taking it down to the wrestling of things. Frankie kneed me in the gut, before slinging down to the mat in a headlock take down. I grabbed his leg, pulling me down with him, and locked on a new move that I just started using, and learning how to do. The sharpshooter. I flipped Frankie over, locking the sharpshooter in. As he looked over at me.
Frankie: I never taught you that!
I applied pressure, leaning back a bit with his legs as I heard him yell behind me. It was over for Frankie, everyone in the arena knew it that night. Frankie couldn't escape, I had beat him in his own technical way. This old man was way past his prime anyway, all I had to do was keep the hold on. He had no struggle left in him. This was my match. I noticed the fight in Frankie growing less, and less as I kept onto the hold. It was only a matter of time before he tapped, or just passed out. But just then I seen the announcer walking out from the back, and coming by ringside to whisper something in the referees ear. I seen them talking low, and looking back to me with sad faces before the announcer left again.
Logan: What did he say?!
The referee looked on with a sad look, ignoring me. I let go of Frankie's legs, getting in front of the referee.
Logan: Damnit, what did he say?!
Referee: Your Mom, Logan.. she’s gone.
My throat felt like it wanted to drop into my stomach. The news broke me down, and now I felt weaker than Frankie. I quickly jumped out of the ring.
Referee: Logan if you leave I'll be forced to count you out.
I didn't care by now, as I ran up the ramp. Nothing mattered to me now about wrestling, I heard the ten count behind me as I left the arena, and the bell rang declaring Frankie The Yankie the winner. The building exploded with boos, I knew they wanted a better match.. but something was more important right now. I hopped into my old truck, speeding as fast as I could to my old house.. my moms house. But the time I got there, the ambulance had already left with my Mom. She was gone. I walked through my front yard, sitting down on my old front porch with my face in my hands. I had later learned that Frankie retired after the match, and I got fired for leaving. I didn't want to go back anyway. I had no real goal in live, nothing to live for. I simply lived for the moment. As I sat down on the porch, wondering what I was going do.. I looked down to see a military catalog. It was my only real chance then to try, and least make something of my life. I shaved my head, and signed up for the marines.
1993
When I arrived at boot camp, a few people noticed me from the PWA show. There was nothing but a bunch of young men running around, doing laps, jumping over fortalices, and diving off of ropes. This is what the military wanted, a bunch of young killing machines. I trained to be a marine for a long two years, and what I became was exactly what they wanted. I had nothing left, no parents, no friends, no love. I was just living for the day, and more every day I became better at what they were training me to be.. a marine.
1999
Seven years had past since I joined the military, and quit wrestling. I had never left, not once. I lived at the base for seven long years. What did I have to go back to anyway? I found something though. It was the day I got a special forces tattoo on my right shoulder, and the day that I left the military. I was sitting inside the bunkers, with a tattoo artist giving me a grade A tattoo of the American flag. I grew on to the military instincts, and long forgot wrestling. I always dreamed of it though, I always wondered what it would've been like if I would have tried to go back to PWA. I was 29 now, and in the best shape of my life. The military knew how to keep you in shape, that wasn't a lie. I watched wrestling from time, to time again whenever I'd get a chance. But today was the day that sparked an old feeling inside of me, a wrestling promotion titled "NWA" was new, fresh, and hot. It was ran by a inexperienced owner, his first real promotion, and he was looking for the best of the best. I was notified about it in my bunker via mail. When I read about it, it brought a spark to my eye that I hadn't seen since 1992. That gold feeling rushed back through me again, and I wanted to get back inside the ring as soon as I could. Wrestling had changed a lot since the late 80's, it had become more of entrainment. I didn't mind that one bit. I left the military that day heading for Florida where the NWA was hosted. But by the time I showed up, it was already on it's last hair. I talked to the owner.
Logan: What happened?
Mark: Ah, my budget ran up, I just wasn't getting enough ratings, or attention.. or ah.. too many things at once.
Logan: DAMNIT!
Mark: Wait, your that guy from PWA?
Logan: Yeah.
Mark: You were a hot pick when you left, a lot of wrestling promotions were wanting to sign you up. You were the biggest free agent of the early 90's, it took us a while to find out where you went.
Logan: I've been in the military the last seven years.
Mark: No outside life what so ever, huh?
Logan: Yeah, pretty much.
Mark: Well look man, there is a major promotion opening in Pennsylvania.
Logan: Really?
Mark: Yeah, the name is in the works now.. but I think their calling it WCA.
Logan: WCA?
Mark: Yup, that's where I'm heading.
I grinned.
Mark: Would you like to join me?
2000
By the time I got to Pennsylvania, the WCA was just opening. I found their headquarters, but no sign of Mark. Who knows what happened to him. While I was standing in front of the building, I noticed the words "WCF" on the front doors. Damnit, I had got the wrong promotion.. or maybe Mark mistaken. It didn't matter to me, I just wanted to get back into wrestling so bad. As I was standing there, a limo pulled up beside me. I didn't bother to see who it was, probably some hot shot trying to make a name in the WCF. As I walked up the entrance ramp towards the building, a voice spoke out behind me.
Voice: Can I help you?
I turned around to see two men, one wearing a suit, and one dressed up like a wrestler wearing casual street clothes.
Logan: Yeah, I want to join this WCF.
The wrestler spoke.
Voice: Well, just not anyone can join. What promotion did you come from?
Logan: PWA.
He laughed.
Voice: That place closed down like six years ago.
The man in the suit spoke up.
Voice: That's Three Piece Logan, he was pretty popular. I'm sorry man, my name is Seth Lerch, I'm Rick Mad's manager.
Logan: I'd prefer just Logan, this time.
Me and Seth Lerch shook hands.
Logan: You wouldn't happen to know who’s running this place, would you?
Rick Mad: That'd be me.
Well, that blew my mind.
Logan: I thought you would have been wrestling here.
Rick Mad: Well I am a wrestler, and a pretty successful one at that. You see, me, and Seth were in a promotion called NCW. It just closed down, and we wanted to continue their legacy by opening up this place. All the old NCW stars are coming over to WCF, and we're hoping to be as successful as NCW was. But for now, I'm running WCF.
Seth Lerch: If you'd like a contract, you can meet us in our office.
I followed them inside, and signed a contract with WCF. My first match was booked against Jax, a veteran of NCW. No one really thought I'd win, and it was the number one contender ship for the WCF US championship. I lost the three piece name, and just went with Logan. I defeated Jax, made a name for myself going undefeated under WCF, and won the first ever WCF US championship match. The rest is history..
2006.. Now.
My eyes let go of the airplane swimming through the sky, as I looked back down over the city. I had a good view from the top of this hill. My memories faded back away inside my head. Since then, I've won the WCF world title three times, the WCF television title, the WCF tag team titles, the WCF international title, the WCF US title two times, and The War III. This Sunday, I was set to make history once again.. and I would.
