Post by Jack Evans on Mar 30, 2015 16:44:04 GMT -5
Jack Evans threw up. At this point, he couldn't control it. He was nervous, the butterflies beginning to fly like mad men inside the lining of his stomach. This was it. This was his last chance ever to prove that he has what it takes to compete in a professional wrestling ring.
The locker-room inside of the Steel Mill Auditorium was nicer than should've been expected. Consisting of separate rooms for each of the competitors, with both a men's and women's side, Jack had this entire section cut off for himself. At this point in time, he preferred it that way. No glaring camera lights. No random wrestlers walking in to pose for their Insty-grams or MyFace pages. This was where Jack could be in his own zone before his match... Could prepare for the first ever WrestleTown Show... Could re-live through the horrors of his past.
Professional wrestling is a hard sport. Not only do you have to sacrifice your body inside of the ring, you also have to sacrifice your life outside of the ring. Time would slip by while you were working out at the gym or resting inside of whirlpool tub to recover from the bumps and bruises the night before. Home life? It became a running myth among the real professional wrestlers. A pipe-dream that many tried to grasp at, only to have that life go through their hands like smoke.
Jack had that home life. Jack had promise. Jack had potential. Jack had it all. And yet, here he sits, on a long, wooden bench, his head bowed with a towel draped around it, praying to the Mother Mary that he could make it last... Just this one last time. That maybe, just maybe, he would see his daughter in the crowd. His estranged wife. Possibly even his son. He hadn't seen them in so long, yet, he sent his daughter a text message just last week letting her know that he had a show coming up. He didn't dare message his wife, and he didn't even know his son's phone number.
The sounds of the fans pouring into the auditorium caused those butterflies to go crazy once again, flying like blind bats in a cave, causing him to hurl into the trash can at his feet once more.
This was it, Jack, he told himself, this is for all the marbles.
This is your one last rodeo.
The locker-room inside of the Steel Mill Auditorium was nicer than should've been expected. Consisting of separate rooms for each of the competitors, with both a men's and women's side, Jack had this entire section cut off for himself. At this point in time, he preferred it that way. No glaring camera lights. No random wrestlers walking in to pose for their Insty-grams or MyFace pages. This was where Jack could be in his own zone before his match... Could prepare for the first ever WrestleTown Show... Could re-live through the horrors of his past.
Professional wrestling is a hard sport. Not only do you have to sacrifice your body inside of the ring, you also have to sacrifice your life outside of the ring. Time would slip by while you were working out at the gym or resting inside of whirlpool tub to recover from the bumps and bruises the night before. Home life? It became a running myth among the real professional wrestlers. A pipe-dream that many tried to grasp at, only to have that life go through their hands like smoke.
Jack had that home life. Jack had promise. Jack had potential. Jack had it all. And yet, here he sits, on a long, wooden bench, his head bowed with a towel draped around it, praying to the Mother Mary that he could make it last... Just this one last time. That maybe, just maybe, he would see his daughter in the crowd. His estranged wife. Possibly even his son. He hadn't seen them in so long, yet, he sent his daughter a text message just last week letting her know that he had a show coming up. He didn't dare message his wife, and he didn't even know his son's phone number.
The sounds of the fans pouring into the auditorium caused those butterflies to go crazy once again, flying like blind bats in a cave, causing him to hurl into the trash can at his feet once more.
This was it, Jack, he told himself, this is for all the marbles.
This is your one last rodeo.
