Post by Jack Evans on Mar 21, 2015 12:00:22 GMT -5
The sun hadn't even begun to rise, and yet, a single car was already parked in the lot. Jack Evans pulled up beside of the small sedan, put his 1980s truck into park, and climbed out. His gym bags were in the bed of the truck, laden with all types of things that a professional wrestler would need to train... Or, in this case, a man who was trying to become a professional wrestler again. Trunks, wrestling shoes, knee pads, elbow pads, a water bottle, and, most importantly, a bottle of aspirin.
The air was crisp, even though it was late March. The eastern part of Pennsylvania was one of the last remaining places clinging to Winter's Grasp, causing Jack to pull his track jacket a little closer to his chest as he heaved the gym bag over his shoulder. The parking lot was well-worn, especially for a facility that looked as new as The Varsity Club did. Jack smiled. It was nice to see a wrestling gym get the kind of love it seemed this place got.
Jack approached the front doors and pulled them open. Stepping inside was, quite honestly, refreshing. There wasn't a huge bar set up for just juice machines, there wasn't yoga mats being sold behind the counters, and there wasn't the feeling of this being a "hang-out". No, The Varsity Club was built to serve one purpose, and that purpose was to make wrestlers better at wrestling. The entire design was built around that idea. No frills. No bullshit. Just a utilitarian approach that Jack instantly fell in love with.
"Hey, we're not really open for the day yet."
The voice came from the main gym room that opened up behind the lobby. Jack peered through the door, but couldn't see anyone.
"Sorry 'bout that. I can come back later, if ya want."
The source of the voice stepped out from the gym area into the lobby. The huge figure immediately took up the door frame, wiping his face off with a towel. Even though it was just after 4:30 in the morning, this man had already been putting in a harsh workout. That's the kind of determination that Jack Evans admired. Too many times had Jack seen these young wrestling punks have all of the promise in the world, yet, wouldn't ever put the work in. Eventually, their candle flamed out.
The huge man put the towel on his shoulder and his eyebrows immediately shot up. A grin broke across his boulder of a face, and he stepped forward towards Jack with his hand extended.
"Well, I'll be damned. Jack Evans! I didn't think you'd show up this quickly."
Jack knew he had recognized the man, but he wasn't sure from where. Something about him seemed familiar. Then, it clicked. Even though he wasn't good at this 'computer-thing', Jack remembered seeing this man's face on one of his feed-post-update-things. Jack immediately extended his hand and shook the bear of a man's grip.
"Colton Woods. Nice to see ya. Thought I'd stop by an' get some workouts in before the day started up. I can come back when the place actually opens, though."
"No, not at all. Stay. I usually get my workout done before all of the Huskies come in and start working out before their class. Damn, it might be nice to actually have somebody here to push me."
Jack laughed and nodded.
"That always helps. Hey, Colton, can you show me the locker rooms?"
"Yeah, sure thing. It's through this gym here and down the way. You'll see a sign for the locker-rooms. Hey man, it's weird to finally meet you. I was such a huge fan of yours growing up. My favorite wrestling match of all time was you and HardKore Hillis in that Street Fight at Burn This City Down. When he hit you across the jaw with that steel pipe, and you came back and hit him with The SCS... My God, what a match!"
Jack smirked, but one that didn't touch his eyes. Nostalgia wasn't a strong point of Jack... Well, that's not the best way to put it. Jack reminisced about the old days... A lot. But, it wasn't ever a happy moment when he did. Jack always found his place to be, ironically, a sober place for his thoughts to dwell.
"Ya, that match was intense. Hillis was always a pain in my ass. That steel pipe is why I'm missing three teeth on the right side of my mouth. Damn, I haven't seen Hillis in about ten years..."
Jack trailed off in a deep manner. I told you, memory lane is a somber place for Jack Evans.
"Well, here's the locker rooms. Go ahead and put your stuff anywhere you'd like. I usually charge 50 cents at the front counter for a locker for the day, but you can go ahead and take one for free. When you're ready, meet me over at the dumb-bells, and we'll get started on some warm-ups."
Jack smiled and nodded to the much larger man, then ducked into the locker-room. How long had it been since Jack had felt comfortable in a place? Hell, it's possible that a wrestling locker-room is the only place that Jack felt comfortable anymore. It had been so long since he had seen one, or, since he had been sober enough to see one without getting ready to puke. It was nice.
For the first time in years, Jack was ready to step back into the ring. He had a feeling that The Varsity Club would be his new home until then.[/font]
The air was crisp, even though it was late March. The eastern part of Pennsylvania was one of the last remaining places clinging to Winter's Grasp, causing Jack to pull his track jacket a little closer to his chest as he heaved the gym bag over his shoulder. The parking lot was well-worn, especially for a facility that looked as new as The Varsity Club did. Jack smiled. It was nice to see a wrestling gym get the kind of love it seemed this place got.
Jack approached the front doors and pulled them open. Stepping inside was, quite honestly, refreshing. There wasn't a huge bar set up for just juice machines, there wasn't yoga mats being sold behind the counters, and there wasn't the feeling of this being a "hang-out". No, The Varsity Club was built to serve one purpose, and that purpose was to make wrestlers better at wrestling. The entire design was built around that idea. No frills. No bullshit. Just a utilitarian approach that Jack instantly fell in love with.
"Hey, we're not really open for the day yet."
The voice came from the main gym room that opened up behind the lobby. Jack peered through the door, but couldn't see anyone.
"Sorry 'bout that. I can come back later, if ya want."
The source of the voice stepped out from the gym area into the lobby. The huge figure immediately took up the door frame, wiping his face off with a towel. Even though it was just after 4:30 in the morning, this man had already been putting in a harsh workout. That's the kind of determination that Jack Evans admired. Too many times had Jack seen these young wrestling punks have all of the promise in the world, yet, wouldn't ever put the work in. Eventually, their candle flamed out.
The huge man put the towel on his shoulder and his eyebrows immediately shot up. A grin broke across his boulder of a face, and he stepped forward towards Jack with his hand extended.
"Well, I'll be damned. Jack Evans! I didn't think you'd show up this quickly."
Jack knew he had recognized the man, but he wasn't sure from where. Something about him seemed familiar. Then, it clicked. Even though he wasn't good at this 'computer-thing', Jack remembered seeing this man's face on one of his feed-post-update-things. Jack immediately extended his hand and shook the bear of a man's grip.
"Colton Woods. Nice to see ya. Thought I'd stop by an' get some workouts in before the day started up. I can come back when the place actually opens, though."
"No, not at all. Stay. I usually get my workout done before all of the Huskies come in and start working out before their class. Damn, it might be nice to actually have somebody here to push me."
Jack laughed and nodded.
"That always helps. Hey, Colton, can you show me the locker rooms?"
"Yeah, sure thing. It's through this gym here and down the way. You'll see a sign for the locker-rooms. Hey man, it's weird to finally meet you. I was such a huge fan of yours growing up. My favorite wrestling match of all time was you and HardKore Hillis in that Street Fight at Burn This City Down. When he hit you across the jaw with that steel pipe, and you came back and hit him with The SCS... My God, what a match!"
Jack smirked, but one that didn't touch his eyes. Nostalgia wasn't a strong point of Jack... Well, that's not the best way to put it. Jack reminisced about the old days... A lot. But, it wasn't ever a happy moment when he did. Jack always found his place to be, ironically, a sober place for his thoughts to dwell.
"Ya, that match was intense. Hillis was always a pain in my ass. That steel pipe is why I'm missing three teeth on the right side of my mouth. Damn, I haven't seen Hillis in about ten years..."
Jack trailed off in a deep manner. I told you, memory lane is a somber place for Jack Evans.
"Well, here's the locker rooms. Go ahead and put your stuff anywhere you'd like. I usually charge 50 cents at the front counter for a locker for the day, but you can go ahead and take one for free. When you're ready, meet me over at the dumb-bells, and we'll get started on some warm-ups."
Jack smiled and nodded to the much larger man, then ducked into the locker-room. How long had it been since Jack had felt comfortable in a place? Hell, it's possible that a wrestling locker-room is the only place that Jack felt comfortable anymore. It had been so long since he had seen one, or, since he had been sober enough to see one without getting ready to puke. It was nice.
For the first time in years, Jack was ready to step back into the ring. He had a feeling that The Varsity Club would be his new home until then.[/font]
