| Whether it's realized or not most people's first
experience with sports comes in the form of Gym Class in Elementary School.
Most wrestlers will say that there was one single point in their life where
they knew they wanted to be a wrestler, either because of a wrestling event,
or an idolized hero, or someone telling them they'd be good at it.
Regardless of why they chose to become wrestlers the ground work for their
future was laid in gym class. Time Stamped Tuesday, September 30th , 2003 Shane Jackson, wrapped in bandages from the injuries he received at the hands of Phenix two days ago, steps through a doorway and into a dismal looking gym. This once solid structure is beginning to crumble with age, it's brick walls are starting to crack and flake apart. In one corner, heavily blanketed with dust, stands a Weider weight set. A heavy bag hands silent, a circlet of duct tape wrapped around it's middle to prevent the stuffing from falling out. In the middle of the gym stands an empty wrestling ring. It's white canvas mat is stained, in at least twenty places, with old patches of blood. As Shane stands, taking in the whole atmosphere of the empty gym, a man appears at the door of an office a few feet away. Man: Shane Jackson. Shane nods his head without saying anything. Man: It wasn't a question. He steps, from his office doorway, out into the gym. Man: When I left the CWF I never made it a secret where I was going. I expected hundreds of kids to show up at my doorstep each year wanting to learn from me, wanting me to teach them. What happens instead? Nothing. You're the first person in six months to walk into this place looking for me. You'd think that someone, just once, might remember the name Sonic outside of comparing me the runner up to Drew Carrig's on going Hardcore Legacy. The man, Sonic, carefully looks Shane over from a distance. Sonic: Take off those bandages, they're only a target that your opponent will aim for. Shane looks down, between his open coat. Against his skin the white bandages stand out like an Asian at a Black Panther convention. Sonic: If you want to learn the art of Hardcore then I'm not going to hold back. I won't pull back on a barbwire bat just because you want to save your body for Drew to get his hands on. I won't compromise myself so that you can be healthy for the House of Horrors. Healthy isn't a term that applies to Hardcore. As Shane begins unwrapping his bandages Sonic grabs a quarter staff that's leaning against one of the crumbling walls. He twirls it between his hands a couple of times before bringing it to a halt by tucking one end under his armpit. Sonic sizes Shane up before he begins charging toward him, the staff poised, ready to strike.
.:. End of Part 1 .:. |