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Baby Steps
Topic Started: Nov 29 2012, 03:51 AM (152 Views)
Deleted User
Deleted User

Sacrifice (Part 1/8): Baby Steps
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us."
-Marianne Williamson
--

I've lived in humility my entire life, just because I have money doesn't mean that it has changed. My house is small; my wife, though absolutely stunning could improve upon her attitude towards me; and my friends, wait, what friends? Non-existent. I own one thing that is perfect, that is my son. My son, Francisco, or as I call him, Frankie, is the most beautiful little boy you could ever see. Blonde hair, green eyes, and a face that looks to be genetically altered for the better. God moves in mysterious ways, I suppose. This is his gift for me, and I gladly take it and honor what he has given me.

Could my hands move faster? Could my technique be a bit better executed? Could I be faster? Stronger? Tougher? The answer to all of these questions is all of these. Though I don't lack too much in all of these areas, age has become a constant thorn in my side. When will father time catch up to Martin Dathan? Rather, when will father time catch up to Dathan and beat him to a pulp? I'm thirty seven years old, shouldn't be too long away. However, I am in the best condition of my life; I'm the long time New Edge Wrestling Extreme champion, a title which despite how hard it is to obtain, is harder to defend. Every night, I would go out to the ring and use my body as a weapon. However, unlike every other 'extreme' wrestler, I would use a display of technical prowess. That's what separated me from the pack, that's what made me into a hall of famer; and that's what will hopefully save my ass in New Era Wrestling.

Why did I decide to come here? To prove to the world that I'm the best wrestler that has ever lived. That's the only reason to wrestle. And all too often to people use their past accomplishments as a mean to elevate themselves; it really is irrelevant to anybody in New Era what I've done in New Edge or Ascension Championship Wrestling, as it should be. All too often do so called legends return to the wrestling ring and are given title shots. That's not what I want, I want to start from the bottom and work my way up.

One hand grasping my cauliflower ear, I looked up at the ceiling above my head. What the fuck did I get myself into? I have a kid, a beautiful wife, a good house, everything I need, yet, my pride wouldn't let me retire. Flicking on the television with my unoccupied hand, a decision I would later regret, I groaned in disappointment. For on Sports Center in huge white lettering the words: New Edge Wrestling Hall of Famer unretired.

"Can the New Edge Wrestling legend knock off the young gun, the prodigy, the ultra-athletic Ryan Kidd?" Opening my eyes, I connected the voice to a portly man who sat next to a thin female. Her hazel eyes pierced through my soul. They would fade out and a highlight reel of my matches, mainly my submissions, began to run. "It should be interesting, George. Martin is the favorite heading into this specific match up, but what about future matches down the road? What about the man who pretty much mentored him, Matt Slater? Those two have had wars, but Martin has only beaten him once, as compared to Slater's five victories. And how about Vanessa and Reya Serra, Martin has a history with those two as well. But now, we get a chance to see some fantasy match ups, and this upcoming match is going to be a spectacle."

Cringing, I clicked the remote before turning around and being met with Destiny. "You couldn't stay out, could you?" Walking by her I sighed as she followed. "So, this is where you've been going when you were 'cleaning the garage' or 'having lunch with friends?'" She wouldn't stop. "Well, I wasn't lying about that, I needed to clean the garage for my wrestling gear, and I was having lunch with New Era executives, who just so happened to be very nice people." I lied, those fuckin' pricks were far from kind. Destiny followed me as I walked through my kitchen and began scanning my refrigerator.

"Listen, Judas, Martin, whatever your name is, I don't even remember at this point; you have a son now. You have to be a father. Our little Frankie needs a dad to look up to, and how can he look up to you and idolize you when you're gone every day? And when you're bashing people's heads in?" The words shot through me, they were laced with sincerity, which was obvious from Destiny's eyes which pleaded for me to reconsider. I could cancel the contract I'm almost sure; I have good lawyers, I'd find a way out, and they could replace me. Was it a matter of pride? Or did I need this to live? Or maybe Destiny was right.

"Des, please, I have to give it one more run..."

"Why? So you can get another injury? So that you won't be able to walk when your son wants to play catch with you? So that you'll die after drinking yourself to death? You're thirty seven years old, how much longer can this go on for, Martin? You know how you've made a name for yourself, you wrestle technically, but the game is changing. People are bloodthirsty, they don't want to see submissions anymore. So what are you going to do, consistently take chair shots only to get that comeback kid triangle choke at the end of the match? Sure, that'll work, but think about your health..."

Piling turkey onto my already huge sandwich, I tried to numb Destiny's words, as I knew the intention was not cruel, but it hurt...because it's true. Who did I think I am? Sure, I had two good runs, sure, I'm a hall of famer in another fed, but what have I done in New Era? Jack shit. I don't want shit handed to me because I've beaten this guy, won this title and so on, and it won't be handed to me here; there's younger, stronger lions, but none are as hungry as me. I eat, sleep, piss, fight and fuck for this sport and if dying in that ring is what it takes to go down as the best wrestler in history, that's what I'll do. And if Ryan Kidd feels the same way, then I'll have to relieve him of his duties on this planet.

It's a shame that I may have to do that, but it is be or be killed, that is the ideology, the doctrine and code that I live by, and the code that encompasses any form of combat. That is why I must do what I have to in order to brutalize Kidd, and in the most dominant fashion. This is where Destiny is wrong, my body may be old, not as fast or strong as it used to be, hell, maybe not as sharp, but my mind is all that. My mind is still the mind of the same twenty year old prodigy that burst onto the wrestling scene years ago. This is the same creative grappler who's been making people tap for years. And it's the same mind that's going to walk into New Era Wrestling, drop Kidd on his prissy ass and then proceed to choke him worse than a prostitute trying to pay off debt.

"Are you even listening? Are you just blocking me out?" No and yes. "Martin, you can't think about yourself anymore, you're a father. You've done all you had to do, you've proved all of your doubters wrong, you've got the money, you've got the power and recognition for your talent, what more is there to accomplish? What more do you have to do? Who do you have to prove this to? Nobody doubts you, even when you're old, you're a heavy favorite in this match." I stopped piling the turkey onto the bread and stared at the ground. "I have to prove it to myself. I have to know in my heart of hearts that I'm good enough to hang with these guys, that my raw skills and abilities are good enough that I can beat anybody on this planet on any given day. I guess that's it Destiny, I'm my only doubter, funny, right? At the end of the day, I'm my own worst enemy. Most people would've retired, had a nice life and left it at that, but I'm striving for something greater. All I want is to be known as the best ever, that can't be too much to ask for..."

Smiling at the last line, Destiny looked at me, tears filling her eyes she walked out of the room. She doesn't understand how much I've sacrificed already, everyday I wake up in excruciating pain and force myself to train. The thing is, my style of wrestling is very technical, guys like Kidd could never appreciate it because that's what they lack. They need to resort to fancy moves and weapons, in the name of 'extreme', whatever the fuck that means. Extreme means one thing to me, an ass whooping, and when I give that to Mr. Kidd, maybe he'll appreciate my style more. But here's the thing, unlike Kidd, I have to practice my moveset so I'm still sharp, he doesn't, he wildly swings objects and jumps from high places. Boy, what skill. I guess we'll see if the hype is real.

Walking into my television room, a grin crossed my face as I saw Frankie sprawled across the couch. This is what I would sacrifice. Little moments like this; perhaps even larger moments. First words? I'll probably miss those. Walking? I'll miss that too. And for what? So that I can be content with myself. How selfish of me.

And so I held Frankie there. I couldn't tell you how long I held him, but I clutched onto that boy for dear life. I knew that it could be one of the last quality times we could have, and that's why I was so reluctant to let go. I made sure to stay strong, not that he would know if I was crying, but so that I could at least have that last shred of dignity.

"You know, even heroes can be with the people they love. Even heroes are entitled to rest, to live life like the rest of us. The wrestling world doesn't need you, and I mean that in the kindest of ways; they would love to have you, but you aren't necessary. But part of me tells me that you need the wrestling world. And I promise you, that I will be there for you every step of the way." And that's when I broke down, my eyes rose from my child and fell upon Destiny who stood in the door way. At this point we were both a mess, both crying, and both mentally and emotionally tired. She has been there for me despite the horrible things we've done to eachother. Horrible things like her lying about her pregnancy, horrible things like me abusing her, acts that will never be repeated nor forgotten.

"...I can't be defeated, Destiny..."

"Why is that?"

"Your love fuels me. It makes me passionate about everything I do. I can't be beat, and I won't be beat. I'm going to set an example that our son should live by. Total triumph."
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