I'm not exactly sure why I'm deciding to write this. I guess, if anything, it'll be cathartic for me. I've found myself thinking more and more about a chapter of my life that has been closed for almost four and a half years. I find myself not thinking about what my career was, but rather, what it could have been. What it should have been.
While the great majority of the reason I decided to hang up my boots in terms of being an active professional wrestler is due to an ever-present back injury that continued to worsen over the years, there were certainly other reasons that played a role in that decision. Chief among those reasons was bitterness. For the final couple of years of my career, I worked so hard to get into the best shape of my life. If you knew me at the time, trust me, you knew I was in great shape, because I made sure everyone knew it. But it just seemed like no matter what I did, I just couldn't get that big break.
I worked hard to improve my in-ring ability, my look, my promos, etc. I was constantly thinking of new angles, new characters, spots I wanted to try. Unfortunately, those angles and characters I thought up, for one reason or another, never came to fruition. I always knew my in-ring work was solid, and I had a few times where I thought it was going to lead to a bigger stage. They didn't, but I was always encouraged by those possibilities. I would send tapes and 8x10s to every major wrestling company I could think of, but after months of no response, that encouragement waned and bitterness began to set in.
Many men and women that I came up in the business with have had their fair share of success, and I would find myself envious. It wasn't out of dislike for anyone, but more of a "I'm just as good as them" kind of thing. Looking back, I definitely wasn't as good as them, but that's what my mentality was as a brash, young professional wrestler.
In late 2011, I had a high profile match (at least locally) with a very well-known wrestling star. After the match was over, he told me that our match was his favorite that he had had in years. I'm sure he was being slightly hyperbolic, but he was very complimentary of my work and our match. Another man (who I respect to no end) who spent some time in developmental for WWE said in an interview that he thought I had what it took to go to the next level. At that time I felt like there was nothing that could stop me.
Just over a year later, another well-known wrestling star essentially told me that I was a garbage wrestler and that he saw nothing in me. I shouldn't have let that one negative voice be so loud when so many other voices were still encouraging me, but by that time my back was already affecting my day-to-day life, I had just gotten married, and other things in my life were becoming more important to me. I still wrestled for about another 7 months, but that day was the day I officially checked out.
I stopped caring about wrestling. I stopped watching it. I stopped following it. I think I've watched a total of three wrestling shows since that day. My entire exposure to the business now is the few friends I follow on social media and occasionally opening the Bleacher Report app on my phone. I've wrestled a handful of matches for the NWF since then, but that's been it.
But here's the crazy thing about professional wrestling: I still think about it every single day of my life. I cut promos in my head all the time. I hear a song and think about what kind of character would use it as entrance music. I still come up with new gimmicks and envision the ring gear to go along with it. I may not recognize it as part of my life anymore, but I can't escape it. It's like the crazy ex-girlfriend that keeps trying to weasel her way back into your life.
Back in 2014, I made it far enough in WWE's Tough Enough to get a Skype interview with a casting agent for the show. Obviously, I didn't make it, but in my head I constantly wonder what if I did? What would have happened? I've always found it ironic that I made it closer to WWE after I "retired" than I ever did while actively pursuing it.
I'll read interviews or listen to podcasts from wrestlers that say they didn't catch their big break until they were in their mid-to-late 30s, and I think "I'm only 32, maybe something could happen if I returned for one more run." Then I lean forward in my chair and my back goes out, then reality sets back in.
Again, I don't know why I felt the need to write these thoughts down. It's not to get compliments from people saying that I should have made it, nor is it me throwing myself a pity party because it didn't work out. In the grand scheme of things, my career was a million times better than what I ever expected it to be, and better than what most people in the wrestling business get to experience. I had matches with Hall of Famers, WWE champions, wrestlers that are worldwide superstars, and some of the best friends I have are ones that I only know because of the insane theater that is professional wrestling. In all honesty, I owe the much better place in my life that I am right now to the wrestling business. Had it not been for professional wrestling (and a tattooed viking), I wouldn't have met my wife.
So what do I do with all of these thoughts? Do I just keep them pent up and occasionally cry on my little blog here? The last month's worth of matches during my active career were some of my favorites, mainly because I just didn't care anymore. I just wanted to go out there and have fun with my friends. Is that what I do then? Do I return to wrestling or maybe just wrestle occasionally with the mentality that it doesn't matter anymore and just go have fun? I've always loved performing and being in front of a camera, so do I try to wrestle again just to occasionally get that fix? I've always had the mindset that it's better to burn out than fade away. I never wanted to be the type of wrestler that couldn't leave it behind. Perhaps I feel like I still have something to prove, as I do sometimes feel like I never had the opportunity to truly showcase what I was capable of.
I honestly don't know what to do with all of this, and I think that's perhaps the real reason I'm writing this today. I have all of these thoughts and I have no idea what to do with them. This, my friends, is the internal struggle of at least this "retired" professional wrestler.
No comments:
Post a Comment