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| GLASS GLADIATORS
March 30, 2008 I dial ten digits linked to her. The phone rings.... Rings.... Rings... ...Answered....by voicemail, the closest I get to her angelic voice. Her pre-recorded splendor asks me to leave a message with my name and number. I comply. I slide up my kickpads. I wrestle like she's in the crowd. The reality....she's not. In college. they call the main idea of your essay or manifesto a "thesis statement". It is supposed to sum up, in a compact manner, what the main idea of your written work is. Then your following paragraphs elaborate on the point you made in said statement. I'll keep my thesis very short. Life and wrestling do not work. It just doesn't. I'm not saying you don't have your success stories...but they're few and far between. The wrestling business is a very selfish and jealous mistress; leaving little to no room for displaying affection for anything else but her. She consumes you utterly; never satisfied with the level of blood, sweat, and tears you pour in. How many have fallen to her vices? Forsaking the comforts of home and security for risk; and promises of continued glory. This business uses us and rarely does it ever give back something we truly need. How many times has your hand been torn from the ones who love you for the call of the ring? Missed a major moment to add one more bump to your aching body? Tried to be a loving husband, father, boyfriend, even friend period via voicemail? Life barely works with wrestling, love certainly does not. It's just the nature of the beast as entertainers. Even more so with wrestling because our off season is non-existent. At least with football, basketball, or a myriad of other major [and more respected] sports, you get 3-6 months to enjoy a normal life filled with rigors NOT associated with your chosen sport. Unfortunately, gladiators in the ring are not afforded an off season. We travel far, get beat up more, get paid less, AND get less respect than other professional athletes. Yet here we are, our weekends consumed by combat while our loved ones and our lives take a back seat to the squared circle. I sometimes wonder, for what? It gets hard pulling up the usual online sheets, scared to see the headlines in fear of which one of our brothers has been taken by our business. How sick does it sound that I've wished wrestlers would die from natural causes or accidents; as opposed to suicide, overdoses, and other deaths that scream to those who live on, "I lead a miserable life." Loose women, drugs, and alcohol are no substitutes for genuine love, family, and even a period of natural rest. The irony of these larger than life gladiators dying off and fading away like junkies and fear-gripped men is astounding. What does the ring do to us? Do we not realize that it makes us change our thinking; our natural instincts? There is nothing natural about throwing you body to the ground at full blast, just to get back up. A normal human being rejects and avoids pain. We invite it with open arms for a loving embrace. So maybe when we learn to warp our minds, we warp our feelings towards our lives. Wives and children become secondary, painkillers are our new best friends, and we dive into the characters we've created; willed on to stay in our artificial shells by the roar of the crowd. Meanwhile, lives crumble and perceptions change. Children never know the father behind the character. Wives run elsewhere for affection; sometimes nowhere at all, while their husbands find solace in "wives" on the road. Our bodies crumble and we use hard liquor and drugs to hold us together; a band-aid solution to a gapping wound. A sane man would run for the comfort of home and the love that can be found within, but therein lies the catch-22 to our vice. The whole reason I'm writing this wordy warning to those who dare read... Wrestlers are afraid to be ordinary. With no spotlight, no crowd roar, no huge payday [at the higher levels], and no larger-than-life persona to slip into; we easily blend in with the sea of normality all around us. How can you go back to that after tasting the fruits that stardom, even at a small level, can bring you. It's why Terry Funk has retired 50 times and returned 51 and counting. It's why so many young wrestlers take the kind of risks that shorten careers; all for a chance to pop the crowd and become the Youtube clip of the day. It's why retired wrestlers who are used to 360 days worth of road time can't adjust to a 9 to 5. What we do physically already puts us at great risk. I implore you, if you’re in this whirlwind business of ours or are close to someone who is, the best thing you can do is love the people close to you. Hard. We are gladiators. Giants. Superheroes to the average fan who pays their hard-earned money to see us battle monthly, bi-weekly, or weekly. WWE main-eventer or high school gym card opener, this business takes from us with a voracious appetite. So often are we concerned about our unbreakable stature, that we lose the very things that make us human. How long can one push away the traits that make us sane mortals before we drown deeper in an already insane business? I stand at the eve of one of the bigger matches of my this day [March 28, 2008], but I find myself willing to trade that just to hold her hand in mine for a little while. Emotionally, it’s like a dagger in my beating heart already that distance separates us, but even worse when a 40 hours work week and the ring come calling. If that depresses me, I can only imagine how many other are dying inside while their candid lives crumble before them. The mentally strong are the ones who survive the ring wars intact. More importantly, it is those who know when to step away and bask in normality, who reap a greater reward. For all the awesome memories and big league paydays in the world, it is the quality of life away from the ring that should matter the most. I can only hope our generation is paying attention to the Jake Roberts’, Benoit’s, Mike Awesome’s, and other casualties of the business and come away with lessons learned. Fame, stardom, and living your character does not get you happiness when the lights dim and the crowd ceases to roar. We often wonder where our next booking is coming from or where our next show is. Wonder what’s going on in your family’s world and be there when they need you, as best as you can. Educate yourself for a future beyond this ring. If you’re fortunate enough to make it to the majors, be wise and save your money. Don’t let the greenbacks make you when you should be making them. Cherish your partner, your lover. More often than not, she/he will be your best friend in any battle you face and running them away would not be wise. Fight the temptation of mind-altering substances and if you must partake, know your limits. We’re talking a business where somas are as deadly as rat poison. I won’t even touch Tylenol with the horror stories I’ve heard about painkillers. I write this because I want to see more wrestlers come out of this business with more to show from it. Forehead gashes and bad knees just aren’t enough anymore. Too many of our fallen soldiers have paid the price for living like gladiators, neglecting the man underneath the armor and finding existences with no splendor and deaths with no dignity. We can change that, I know we can. If nothing else, I want people to prove me wrong about what I wrote above. Make me believe life and wrestling can work. That we can control a business that is known to warp us. There are always exceptions to any rule, but I want more than exceptions…. …I want a new standard set. I want wrestlers who can wake up, look themselves in the mirror, and know they’re living their LIFE [not their career] right. Life is too short not to be happy and this business only allows so much happiness before we must step away. Prepare yourself properly. Live knowing that the man behind the wrestling boots will have his day too…what have you done to insure his day will be a bright one? Some words to think on now, before the sins are repeated of our fallen brothers and icons. As Kanye West would say , “Nobody gets the flowers when they can still smell them.” Hopefully, when you finish reading this, you’re doing more than thinking on it. You can be doing things like… 1. Hugging a loved one. 2. Calling someone you’ve been meaning to call for weeks now. 3. Planning for a future beyond wrestling. 4. Being more careful before you picked up the next bottle. If one person feels compelled to do any of that by this last page, mission accomplished. I’ve got a phone call to make myself. -J.dot, Real Talk Jamar Acid is a 23 year old, Georgia independent wrestler who has worked for 13 promotions in his 6 year career. His main rounds include NFWA, GWP, UCCW, and he will be debuting for GOUGE in April. He looks to provide a candid perspective on the wrestling landscape from a wrestler’s point-of-view. |