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| PASSION, HEART, AND DRIVE: A WRESTLER’S PHD
– Kareem Abdul Jamar, formerly known as Jamar Acid) November 18, 2008 “An education isn't how much you have committed to memory, or even how much you know. It's being able to differentiate between what you do know and what you don't.” - Anatole France (1844 - 1924) Like anything in life, to cultivate any skill; you need a combination of trial and error mixed with knowledge. It’s why we go to college, read books, and ask questions to those with more experience than us. I had originally planned to write a column about believability in professional wrestling; which I’m sure will come soon enough, but I find this issue to be of greater importance. I just don’t want to see people going through (or putting people through) what I had to go through in my first 5-6 years in this business. The demon that plagued me… Lack of guidance. Bear with me while I tell you a story about some guy you wouldn’t really care much about…even though you’re reading his article, I digress…. Fresh out of wrestling school in Augusta, Georgia; I swear out I had all the tools to be a superstar. 147 pounds of martial arts fury and none of the psychology or ability to recognize how low on the totem pole I was; G-No The Shaolin Thug had ALL the tools to be a TNA Superstar in 6 months I thought. Riiiiight. The gimmick sucked [woulda been awesome if I played it for comedy I say. How serious can you take a 147 pound guy anyway, not that I’m a mammoth now, but at least I got DEFINITION~! HOO-RAH! But I digress.], my moves lacked polish, and I just didn’t know how to fix it. Bookings were scarce and before you know it, I’m wrestling, but not against or with anyone that could help me take it to the next level. I had a million and one people ready to tell me how badly I sucked, why my gimmicks sucked, and expecting me to know better when in reality, I didn’t. I was trained, but I was never given the tools to carve out a career. I was never taught what to listen out for, how to ask for guidance, how to make myself marketable. For that, I spent a hard 5 years trying to figure it out the hard way; learning more about rough lessons and facing harsh realities than I was about basking in “super stardom” that I felt I deserved (like a true unassuming idiot.). I was on a treadmill of mediocrity and I was to a point where I believed I was never meant to accomplish anything in a dream I was told I would never have. No one ever wants to swallow the jagged pill that they aren’t good enough for what their heart calls out for. It reminded me too much of growing up without a father. Your mom does what she can, does her best to play both roles; but it feels so artificial. Her attempts are with love, but lacking the actual experience that comes with being a man. So you trudge, learn, put the pieces together, and people wonder why you don’t know things, why you’re naïve, why you don’t qualify to be a man. You know you are, sometimes more of a man than your peers realize; but you don’t have that figure in your life to hold you up and guide you, show you right from wrong. I assumed wrestling would be the same, sticking my hand out blindly and hoping to find light; but instead running into every ghoul and ghost that goes bump in the night. I’m getting to the point, bear with me. Just like in many aspects of my life, I’m too stubborn and too passionate to say I can’t have something. I claw and sacrifice, push myself to limits unseen just to be able to tell my naysayers, “Fuck you. I’m right, you’re wrong.” Wrestling would be no different: five years, not a break in sight, and no real improvement to show. It wasn’t until I ended up in a small federation in Lyons, Georgia, as a favor to a friend of mine who needed someone to work that night, where I found the first in a collective of foster fathers I never had in life but found in wrestling. 50 fans at the time was a nice average at the weekly UCCW shows, ran in a tiny building that lacked flash, but made up for it in entertainment. It was fun and I kept coming back, feeling generally unwanted or unmotivated in other federations I went to. It was around the time I came to the conclusion that maybe I just wasn’t good enough to make it in this business, let alone the indy circuit. Then, one night, I came from the back after another of my patented 5 star (in my own mind) matches and a gruff Southern drawl, his voice slightly muffled from the tobacco chew lodged in his mouth, snarled out, “That match fucking sucked!” It wasn’t anything new. Everyone had an opinion right? Just another opinion with no facts to back it up, like I needed another one of those in my career. How am I supposed to fix anything if you won’t tell me? Then, something strange happened… He told me why. “Doctor” David Reigns, the first man to ever give a shit about some kid from Augusta, Georgia, with a dream, gave a shit enough in his own insensitive way to break down my entire match and tell me right from wrong. It felt like he was just dumping on me, tearing down everything I did, and I always told myself I’d never come back, but I did. I don’t know if it was sheer stubborn pride or my mind still trying to digest some criticism that was worth a damn, but he was always there; week after week with a Dr. Pepper, the tape of the show, and the remote in hand to let me know why I just wasn’t there yet. I veer away from my story to point out one simple fact…very few wrestlers in the entire independent scene are really worth their salt. Even less actually make it to do something worth talking about. I certainly think the margin for each tier would be wider if more workers were willing to LEARN and more workers were willing to TEACH. The beauty of this business is you never know who the next big star is, even workers labeled with a tag that they aren’t good enough to even be booked could be your next superstar. It’s a two way street, which makes what I hope for harder, but if even one person comes away with knowledge from this, it was worth the energy and thought. A worker who knows it all or feels they have nothing more to learn is a discredit and detriment to this business. There is ALWAYS a new mountain to climb in regards to knowledge in this business. I can agree that a worker will stay terrible if they choose not to learn, and you learn nothing from a teacher who passes down faulty information. For those with information worth teaching (like locker room etiquette, psychology, being safe, less is more, etc.), I can’t stress how important it is to teach the generation that does want to learn, that cares about making this business bigger and better going into the future. What is our future without workers equipped with respect, humility, and the ability to properly use whatever it is they offer effectively? None of this is possible without guidance. The vets need the youth and vice-versa. Without veteran knowledge, young workers fall through the cracks and paint a future for this business as bleak as an Edgar Allen Poe story. Without youth, the knowledge worth passing and using never gets passed and gets lost. In order for everyone to have what they need, open minds and hearts are not only asked for, they are a necessity. Anyone who knows me and knows my travels is aware that I lacked the glue to hold my ring work together and also lacked facets of my character to turn myself from a card-filler into someone worth paying attention to. David Reigns started the cycle that led me down a positive road, because he was a vet who cared enough to see a better business and I cared enough to listen and execute; so I could do my part to make wrestling better. Then I noticed something…I was getting better. My matches became more concise and even my mistakes were cool, because I learned how to correct them. I didn’t just gain a mentor, I gained a friend and confidant and I love him like a brother. It’s one thing to make me a better wrestler, but Reigns made me a better person and taught me that learning never stops for any reason; that passion will always lead you to getting better if you care enough. I created a new goal for myself as my travels broadened and my matches started to get closer and closer together. Where there was knowledge, I would absorb it. I fiended for it and while some may not have been worth the price of admission, so much of it has helped me grow and I can only hope others as young or younger than I are seizing opportunities to better themselves and find their guiding light(s), be it a mentor or just the proper advice. I gained father figures in this business, my aptitude increasing at the rate of the mileage on my car every week; and I’ve had MANY an oil change. With these father figures came new facets to what I had to offer, all varied, but offering distinct value in their words and actions. Murder-1 showed me that people will always invest in emotion before they will a 450 splash. So why not have a reason for emotion and save your body? If they learn to hate/love you, beyond the average heel or face, they remember you. Dan Wilson showed me that you’re only as good as the psychology and story of your matches. Even a short match has a tale to be told. That heart is necessary if you want to last in this profession. Bill Behrens showed me that every facet, from your promos to your chinlock, has details. Know ALL of them, and you rise above from just a wrestler to being a superstar. His afterthoughts are other people’s epiphanies. Jeremy Vain showed me less is more, that one good one means more than five okay ones. He showed me that the measure of a booker is not having the best of everything, but making the best out of what you’ve got. That passion, humility, and patience can take you further than your wildest imagination. Greg Hunter showed me that it’s not enough to be talented or charismatic; it’s the presentation. Treat every action like it has value and others will believe it too. Johnny Swinger showed me an example. A man who’s been everywhere and seen everything, with so much talent, willing to help anyone who asks and nurturing better superstars because of it. Iceberg showed me that respect to anyone deserving of it is a powerful good. That ego is nothing in a locker room; where the better of the team should always be the goal. David Reigns, a true friend in a sea of backstabbers, showed me that mistakes happen. You learn and you polish to overcome them, that when you get in the match, just think about the match. Every match for me is a Sunday morning, good or bad. For me, it took many a voice and there are many voices still to be heard if I ever hope to reach the heights I want for myself. Too often do I see people who wrestle because “it’s cool” or go through the motions, lacking the passion and fire that elevates not only a worker, but locker rooms and promotions in general. Like anything you aspire to, you don’t get better without reading about it, practicing it, becoming an apprentice, going to college, or a combination of it all. I fear for independent wrestling at times because of complacent and/or know-it-all workers, afraid to want better for themselves than what they lack or what they have already achieved. This business thrives on potential and chance. Nurtured potential and the right chance create legends in this business. They used to say The Rock sucked too, you know? 2009 nears, new horizons forming for a business that is never certain except for uncertainty; and without the proper knowledge going into these new battles, we only cripple ourselves. I face one of my biggest challenge at the end of this month, an IWA-Mid South tryout show where the fans decide who comes back. There came an air of calm that came over me days after it settled that I was booked. Success would mean exposure beyond my wildest dream in a region far from what I know. Fans have different tastes, the landscape is unknown, and the outcome is uncertain…but the knowledge I have been instilled, the support I’ve been given by so many, shields me. I believe in myself and believe in my ability because it has been aided and is aided continuously because I choose to feed on every bit of knowledge and criticism shown. They care enough to want to make me better than what I was the match prior; and I will be. I’m passionate enough to want the image they have pictured for me. If you care like me, it’s as simple as this. Ask for feedback, honest feedback. Every locker room has a vet, and if they don’t, it needs one. Ask them what you can do, if they saw the match, HOW CAN I FIX IT? These questions and so many more make legends out of ordinary men. Watch tapes of wrestlers who left their mark on this business. Flair, Anderson, Hansen, Midnights, Rock N’ Roll’s, whatever your flavor. Take notes, learn to use what worked for them. Most of all, be patient and stay humble. Be open to learn and knowledge will always be privy to you. Myself and so many others who step foot in a ring, state to state, country to country, continent to continent; are apart of a generation that could produce so much entertainment for so many fans who need us….we just need to use the resources all around us so we know HOW to do that. With that…a poem… It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, Our presence automatically liberates others. -Marianne Williamson “Our Greatest Fear” I don’t know what the business has in store for me. No promises. I only have two guarantees should it all come crashing down. 1. It won’t be through lack of trying. 2. It won’t be through lack of listening. -J.dot Kareem Abdul Jamar (formerly Jamar Acid) is a 23-year old wrestler out of Augusta, GA. He wrestles for Great Championship Wrestling, Alternative Pro Wrestling, and NWA Anarchy; with 8 years in the sport and counting, he looks to add introspect on our sport as it evolves. |
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