Post by Double C on Mar 26, 2017 14:46:57 GMT
“Guerreros of Lucha”
A deep British voice begins to speak.
“Guadalajara, Jalisco. Mexico”
He clears his throat.
“Performing for their up and coming show ’El Gran Anniversario’, kind of self-explanatory that it’s their anniversary show, with it running for a full year. Wow. I don’t think many people foresee it lasting this long but here we are!”
He snorts.
“Congratulations is in full order for the guys at GOL, not many promotions last that long these days, promising the world that they’re going to be the best thing since sliced bread. Yet they disappear as quickly as they came!”
The man mimics a ‘poof of smoke’ using his hands then smiles.
“The main event for El Gran Anniversario will be the La Azteca Rumble! Now..”
He pulls out his cellular phone, taps on the screen a few times, he then squints his eyes as he reads off his phones.
“…According to the Urban Dictionary, Azteca means ‘The culture of Mexico City, originating from the Aztec Indians. Someone who was born and raised in Mexico City.’ With a few hashtags and a quote of ‘I am a real Azteca warrior!’”
The man presses the sleep button on his phone and places his phone into his suit jacket pocket.
“I’m an English… Sorry, politically incorrect in these times we live in… I’m a British man heading into a Mexican promotion, heading into a match that is promoting the pride of Mexico, for the opportunity to headline the Mexican granddaddy of them all! Eternal Lucha. I’m not sure how it’ll go down for me to win.” He smirks “We’ll soon find out, won’t we!”
The man looks serious before realisation hits him.
“I’m sorry. Where are my manners?”
He extends his hand out
“The names Chris.. Chris Crippler!”
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Chris pours the boiling hot water from the kettle into his cup, stirring it with a silver spoon before tapping it on the rim of the cup, he places the spoon into the sink and blows the steam away from his drink. Wearing just a white shirt, untucked, buttoned up with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow, a pair of freshly pressed black suit trousers and polished shoes, Chris heads out of the kitchen and into his office. Taking a sip from his drink before placing it down onto his desk, glancing over to the wall to his left to see all the glistening titles in there display case, he smiles as he looks to the left of his computer monitor to see the brand new Skyfire Wrestling Honour Championship. He looks at the wall adjacent to the desk to see a wall filled with framed pictures, Chris wonders over to them to see of the pictures from his early years in Great Britain, looking at one in particular that causes Chris to look up in reminiscence.
The posters at the front of the venue showed the ‘World of Sport’ icon with black and white images of famous British wrestlers. The date clearly visible shows 11th April 1984. A young Chris Crippler stands in front of the venue looking awestruck, placing his duffle bag on the wet concrete path from the drizzly rain, he pulls out an envelope from his back pocket and opens it up. Inside is an invitation to wrestle at the event today, rereading it over and over to make sure it is the right date and place, he places the letter back into the envelope and into his pocket. The nerves finally getting to him as he walks to the doors and tries to open them, locked, he then grabs his bag and heads around the back of the building to find the stage door open. Chris casually walks inside to see some of the wrestlers from the poster are in their makeshift changing room, all in one place as some have already gotten into their trunks whilst others still in their day clothes, he walks over to a spare chair near the far corner and places his bag down with butterflies filling his stomach.
He glances around the room at the stars that he use to watch on the television on a Saturday afternoon, the ones who compelled him to want to be a professional wrestler, ignoring his mother and relatives to seek the dream of being one of them. Chris had skipped school and travelled on train to different parts of the county, finding local promotors to get trained in the British style of wrestling. More recently he’d encountered wrestlers who travelled overseas to do six week stints in Germany, United Arab Emirates and South Africa. Gaining some lessons with them in training but Chris knew he’d have to experience the tours himself, to get better as a professional he’d have to travel overseas and get that knowledge through weeks of hard matches, countless tournaments, train each and every day with wrestlers and trainers alike. But tonight was his first professional bout in front of a live audience.
Chris had gotten changed into his basic ring attire that he could afford, match worn black trunks & black boots that are a couple of sizes too big, sitting on the chair as he studies the other guys in the changing room. Some have pints of beer chatting, others cigarettes or cigars, the room had turned quite smoky and laddish. Chris gets up and walks over towards the door leading into the auditorium, peering through to see many fans had arrived to get into their seats, the master of ceremonies and some of the promotor’s staff is near the ring chatting to fans. Chris gulps as his casual gaze turned into fright, stepping to the side of the door with his back against the brick wall, breathing in and out quickly as he can feel his hands and head getting numb in fear. His hearing impaired but the one voice he could hear is from an older wrestler who was coming towards him.
“You don’t look too good, Kid” He takes his cigarette out of his mouth as he glances out at the crowd. Chris looks the elder statesmen up and down, wearing similar attire to himself, the only difference is the huge age difference. He takes along intake of his cigarette and exhales as he turns back to the young Chris. “First time, huh?”
Chris nods as the old wrestler smiles. Slapping Chris’ pale white shoulder, a slight pinkish red mark appears as Chris looks down at it, looking back up as the older man takes another inhale from his dwindling cigarette.
“We all have to start somewhere” He points at the door. “And this is where you start your journey!” He lowers his hand down and stares at Chris with intent. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Slightly offended at the question, Chris nods but he glares at him, he is about to answer but the old wrestler laughs.
“You are going to get slapped about tonight” He takes a long inhale of his cigarette and speaks with smoke pouring out as he speaks. “Let me give you some advice, kid, if you really want to do this remember just one thing. That you come into this business with nothing and you’ll leave this business with nothing. It is a bent business but always remember where you come from!” He stubs his cigarette out with the sole of his boot. “You are an entertainer, first and foremost, you are here to entertain and if you want to get better at this.. you’re going to have to wrestle better people.” He looks sincerely at Chris. “Let me be honest with you, you won’t get that here, do this for a few months and head over to All Star Promotions. That guy will make you wrestle guys better than you and could propel you to Europe.” He looks over his shoulder just in case he was being overheard. “Take an eight by ten photo and a little post card with you, advertise yourself, push yourself once you’ve established yourself.”
Chris nods as the sound of the bell being rang and the master of ceremonies begins to announce, one of the promotors walks over to the two of them and signals them over to the rest of the guys, the old wrestler slaps Chris on the shoulder with a wry smile. Chris peers through at the auditorium one more time before heading over to the group of wrestlers.
Chris nods his head whilst tapping the photograph of his first ever wrestling match on British television. Thinking to himself that he’d always remembered that bit of advice. He notices another picture nearby, one he had forgotten about, looking at it to see himself wrestling in front of a large Japanese crowd. He smiles recollecting that moment.
Many years had passed since his first professional British bout. Chris had listened to the old wrestlers advice that night, having been a whipping boy for many of the guys for several months before heading to the rival promotion, wrestling guys who had travelled the world and gaining experience from wrestling the better guys. Managing to travel overseas himself to doing six week tournaments at a German circus tent in Hamburg, going to Dubai, wrestling around South Africa and other counties like France and Spain. After several years of improving himself as a professional wrestler, wrestling up to fifteen five minute rounds all over Europe, Chris spends little time at home as he is living on the road in whatever county wanting him at the time.
After spending several months in Europe, Chris had finally returned home, his mother greeting him with open arms and a handful of letters. Chris places his wrestling attire into the wash, looking at many of the letters before chucking majority of them into the rubbish, sitting down to have a cup of tea and a meal by his mother. He had almost finished his meal when there was a knock at the door, his mother is about to answer but Chris stopped her, going to the door and opening it whilst chewing on his food. A man stood there holding a parcel, Chris looked at the truck to see the word ‘Fed-Ex’, Chris takes the letter and scribbles his signature on the delivery drivers clipboard. Chris shuts the door and opens the parcel, inside is a letter, placing the empty parcel down on the top of the sofa and reads. He looks up at his mum with a look of confusion. Walking around to sit on the sofa and rereads the letter again, his mother wonders over with a look of worry on her face, Chris looks up at her and smiles as his dreams have come true. Leaning back to grab the empty parcel, reaching in to find a ticket, Chris feels like a kid in a toy store as the excitement is brewing inside; he has been given the opportunity to wrestle a few months in Japan.
Twelve hour flight from Heathrow to Tokyo, Chris wonders out of the plane and into the hectic airport, grabbing his luggage and wonders towards the entrance of the airport. Taking everything in as a sinking feeling hits him. Near the doors is a Japanese man holding a sign that reads ‘Mr Crippler - British Sensation’ on, he seen guys like this in the late night movies after wrestling shows, never did he think that someone would actually do that for him. Chris wonders over to him. ”I’m Chris Crippler” The Japanese man smiles, bowing his head, then signals for Chris to follow him outside and towards a black car. He opens the back passenger door for him, Chris feels very special as he sees onlookers looking towards him, Chris chucks his luggage bag onto the seat and he sits down next to it. The Japanese gentleman shuts the door and heads to the driver’s door, Chris looks out of the window as the driver starts the engine and roars away into the busy Japanese streets, peering out of all of the windows to soak in the ginormous city that is Tokyo.
Not knowing where he was being taken but he didn’t care, a lot of the well-established guys on the European circuit had dreamed of breaking Japan, never did he ever imagine that he’d beat many of them to live this dream right here right now. The car gently pulls up outside of a hotel and comes to a halt, Chris grabs his bags as the driver opens the door, stepping out into the brisk Tokyo air and he could feel it’s electricity. A Japanese man in a suit stands before him and bows, Chris nods his head unsure if bowing might offend, the driver closes the door and pulls off behind the two. “Welcome to Tokyo, Mister Crippler” Chris looks slightly taken back by the fluency of the English language. “I hope your flight was satisfactory for you”
“It was, thank you” Chris replies courteously “I have to say this has come around rather quick” Chris continues as he steps closer to the Japanese gentleman. “Don’t get me wrong, right, I’m very grateful but I haven’t been travelling around as long as some of the other guys!”
Chris is about to wheel off some names but the Japanese man cuts him off. “We have scouts all over the globe, Mister Crippler, our European scout has recently been at Hamburg in Germany and reported to us about you!” He smiles to Chris “You are not here by mistake or by fluke, we have heard reports about you before from our scouts in Johannesburg, as well as in the United Kingdom too”
Chris shrugs his shoulders “I suppose I’m not going to fight this, huh, don’t get me wrong I am very grateful… I’m repeating myself now, I am sorry …But I am and I just cannot believe this young guy from Essex is about to wrestle for the Japanese community!”
The Japanese man acknowledges this, wrapping his arm around Chris’ shoulder, heading inside of the hotel foyer. “Puroresu.. Japanese style professional wrestling …has become distinct in psychology from, you could say, the origins of it from the professional wrestling of North America.” He looks at Chris to see him taking every word in. “The fans consider this a way of life, of sorts, legitimate fights with strong martial art style hitting and very strong submission holds. Known as Japanese Strong Style, it is truly about the perseverance and spirit from the competitors!” The two stope. “You’ve also got the Kings Road approach which is what you generally see in North American wrestling…”
“I.. er, haven’t watched any American wrestling” Chris speaks rather embarrassingly “I have seen highlights when I get in from long journeys across England, but I’ve never really sat down and watched it, I’m one of traditional British rules lasting multiple rounds so the fans see a proper wrestling encounter!”
The Japanese gentleman nods his head “You will learn the ways of Puroresu, Mister Crippler, it will help you in the future when America comes calling”
“America?” Chris hadn’t really thought about heading to America just yet. “I really don’t think..”
“You didn’t think we’d be knocking on your door but here we are” The Japanese gentleman smiles “We have seen scouts from across the shores in recent times, if you do well during your three months, then maybe your opportunity in America may come sooner rather than later” he points towards the reception desk. “Now let’s get you checked in and we can discuss your schedule, okay?”
Chris nods his head and heads to the reception desk. The next few nights where a hard lesson for Chris, who had been use to the long and strong British wrestling style, the Japanese way of wrestling is completely different as he felt completely new like he had done when he first started all those years ago. Soon he had been studying under several wrestling tutors, wrestling matches each and every day, the audience soon grew to like the plucky young Brit who managed to capture the hearts of the Japanese fans at the end of the three months. Chris felt sad his time had come to an end but the whole experience had grown Chris as a performer. Waiting in the hotel foyer for his ride to the airport, Chris sat whilst glancing at the newspapers, a man wearing a cowboy hat and a suit walks up to Chris and hands him a card. Chris lowers the newspaper and reads the card. ‘Jim Johnson – Wrestling Agent. Dallas Texas‘. The man doesn’t say anything apart from pointing to a telephone number. Chris places the card into his pocket and watches the man disappear into the crowd.
Chris looks at the next picture along that has that agent’s card below a picture of his first match on American soil. He glances at all the other pictures close by and smiles at those memories, looking over at the respective titles in the cabinet nearby, Chris walks back over to his desk to pick his drink up and take a few sips from it, looking at his storied career in his office with fond memories. The flat screen television that is placed between the championship belt cabinets is switched on by Chris, who has picked up the remote from his desk, the screen illuminates showing Guerreros of Lucha chapter nine show entitled ‘Because I got high’. Leaning against his desk whilst drinking his drink to watch the action unfold, the advertisements of the ‘Falcon Cup’ and ’El Gran Anniversario’ appears, a wry smile appears on Chris’s face as he finishes off his drink and places the cup down on the desk near his championship belt. ‘Eternal Lucha appears on screen and Chris pauses the television.
“I’m going to be at El Gran Anniversario!” Chris mumbles under his breath. “and I’ll be the one main eventing Eternal Lucha! Winning the La Azteca Rumble match!” smirking as he thinks of that prospect becoming a reality.
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Chris Crippler had travelled to Guadalajara, Jalisco. Mexico a few days ago, getting acclimatised to Mexico and getting his human body clock adjusted, the last thing he wanted was for jetlag to be used as an excuse for the main event of GOL. Chris wanted to be at the best he could be with such a huge reward on stake.
Especially with next month’s first round match for the Falcon Cup on the horizons, not many of the GOL will know of what he is capable off, if he wins the La Azteca Rumble then promotions like EWC, WWH, FSociety, Seattle Pro, Lions Road, Redemption Wrestling, Honor Wrestling and UKWF to name a few will be on high alert, showing why Skyfire Wrestling is the promotion to watch.
Standing in the middle of the square at Palacio de Gobierno, the grand historic building in the background with the trees below it, the water fountain to his left is flowing freely as Chris Crippler stands before the camera. Wearing his tailored black suit and white shirt, the Skyfire Honour Championship strapped around his waist, Chris looks around at all the people wondering by before he begins to speak.[/b]
“The building behind me is the Palacio de Gobierno del Estado de Jalisco.. I think that’s how it’s pronounced.. the Federal government office on Avenida Ramon Corona in Guadalajara, Mexico.” Chris points to the building. “Why am I here? To truly understand Guerreros of Lucha you need to understand the culture, the history, the way of life here in Mexico. I could be ignorant to everything about Mexico and what GOL is all about, coming in like a traditional outside and say I’m the best and ignore the values, but I am the Honour Champion of my promotion. Skyfire Wrestling. It is a division that is close to my roots, coming from the British tutorage all those years ago, learning the ways of being a technically sound professional whilst honing my skills in Japan.” He lowers his arm down. “I am making my debut in GOL in the main event of their anniversary show, no pressure to perform to the best of my abilities, for the opportunity to headline the biggest show on GOL’s calendar. Presuming it will be challenging for the Rey de Reyes Championship. I’m going to be facing some of the world’s best performers in this match, all seeking the same opportunity, all of us cannot be the winner of the match but one of us will. One person will be La Azteca Rumble winner of two thousand seventeen.” Chris points his index finger into his own chest. “I intend that to be me!”
“From the World Wrestling Headquarters to Lions Road, Extreme Championship Wrestling Federation to Seattle Pro, Hammerstein seems to be appearing everywhere and anywhere, least not forget he’s been a part of GOL’s fixtures for a few months too. Either that is a credit to the Arizona native or not. Having to travel here there and everywhere, why not settle down in one place and call it home? Is it hedge your bets in the hope to find success? ..I’m asking as if I cared about you, Hammerstein, truth is I don’t give two flying monkeys about you. You could perform in every promotion possible if needs be in order to find your happiness, if you think you’re going to win this match then you’re mistaken, Hammerstein. I may have done my dues as to travelling from promotion to promotion, country to country, I’m now semi-retired whilst competing for Skyfire Wrestling, I am fresher than most of the guys competing in GOL, especially you Hammerstein, someone who competes all the time with no time to rest. I will exploit this when I eliminate you for this contest, Hammerstein, throwing you over the top rope like an empty drinks carton out of a moving car. You will not know what hit you but you will realise that this old man eliminated you when you stare at me from the hard, concrete floor.” Chris smiles.
“Another travelled star, one who’s reputation supersedes her as a competitor, not through being talented but for being a compete bitch. I’m sure she’ll agree to that summery, huh Angel Kash, the women I first watched in Ring of Beauty almost eight years ago. The trillion dollar princess, holder of the Trillion Dollar Championship, the women who goes from promotion to promotion like a high class escort. Just like Hammerstein looking for success in multiple places, not focusing on one at a time, someone else who’ll truly not be at their rested best when they step into the rumble match.. Another person to exploit. Eliminate from the equation before they realise their faults and erase it with the tip of their pencil, I’d of snapped that pencil in two, throwing the eraser far away leaving you an open target. Showing GOL your faults as I throw your blonde ass over the top rope!” He mimes throwing someone over the top rope with a broad smile on his face. “The likes of Mohammed Al Thani, Holly Buchanan, Dragon Diamante, The Clownz to name bar a few I do not know, I will do when the bell sounds for the Rumble, I may not be accustomed to them and their promotions like I highlighted with Hammerstein or Angel Kash, but doesn’t mean I am going to completely dismiss you as threats. That would be ignorant of me to do so. Coming into a new place and not knowing people is part and parcel of the debut process. If I encounter you in the ring then I’ll do what I do best, wrestle, then when the opportunity arrises I’ll eliminate you from the contest and your dreams of becoming Rumble winner will fade away and die!”
“Helena Noir & Rosario, the two of you will be competing for the chance to represent GOL in the Falcon Cup, a tournament I also will be involved with next month. An opportunity to see some of the competitors up close and personal, a chance to watch my potential opponents in a next round in person, who could pass that chance up with a bit of homework before my very eyes. But I cannot jot information down like I can when watching it on stream, I’m going to have to memorise key bits, before eliminating you like the rest. …It sounds like I’m going to eliminate everyone by the way I am talking, I know others will be eliminated by other competitors, but if I don’t think I can eliminate everyone then what is the point of me being a part of the rumble match?” Chris looks at the camera with a puzzled look on his face. ”Sam Washington, the ultimate American patriot in the land where America is considered chewing gum on the floor, or excrement befouled by one of our canine friends. Who’s old time values of American Patriotism is truly cringe worthy! He and the Ultras believe they can become Rumble winners, in their own rights, I will show them why the British Empire conquered and ruled the world at one stage in our worlds history. The British Empire did what America always wanted to do, yet they’ve failed, just like you Ultras and Sam Washington, history will indeed repeat itself!”
Chris covers his mouth to lets out a cough before continuing. “Maquina Negro, not at all racist their! James Edwards, Markus reeves, Joey LeClair, Everyday Heroes.. More people I’m not truly familiar with but I’m not going to dismiss, why will I, any one of them could possible send me crashing to the outside at any time. But I also know I have the capabilities to eliminate you guys too and I intend to do that with each and every one of you, I see you teetering on the ropes, I see an opportunity to clothesline you over, you’re on the turnbuckle and I notice the chance to get you over the ropes… I will seize upon it and you can think upon ‘What if’ as you wonder back up the aisle with your head hanging low!” Chris looks down and pats the silver plate of his championship belt then looks at the camera. “Matt Angel, you’re not the only promotional champion going into the Rumble match, Mister Karnage-Pro Championship Wrestling's Maximum Karnage Champion, pleasure to make your acquaintance, I’m Skyfire Wrestling’s Honour Champion. You are the man who says he is going to put his heart, soul and body on the line to win this match. Good, I hope you do, if I get a bunch of Angel Kash’s or John Blades then I’d be sincerely disappointed! You may be considering yourself a new guy but new guys don’t win titles, new guys don’t enter matches like this in anticipation to win like you. Matt. I’m considered an old veteran of this sport, wrestling more than three decades nearly, I am not as spritely as most of the guys in this promotion but I have the heart, desire, the never-say-die attitude you claim to have. Who will be proved right, Matt, the young pup or old yeller that needs to be put down? I’ll bring the shotgun, I’d hate to put the pup down but with so much on the line, I intend to make sure this old dog has one final bark and that bark is at Eternal Lucha!”
“One of the most dominating wrestlers in recent years, the women who has conquered every promotions possible, lighting up the LAW, Roxi Johnson. She is the force to be reckoned with, as is Jack Tillman, obviously not a women but still someone who can become a champion within the Extreme Wrestling Corporation isn’t someone to be sniffed at. Both capable of walking out the winner, both capable of showing this old man a thing or two within the ring, both could be going to Eternal Lucha whilst I’m licking my wounds back in Skyfire Wrestling. BUT there is the quandary as I don’t intend to be sitting on the sidelines, licking any wound, I will be the one looking to capitalise and conquer at the anniversary show and become the Rumble Winner!”
Chris takes his championship belt off and drapes it over his shoulders as the camera zooms in close to the long haired brits face.
“I am known as the British Sensation for a good number of years, my years are slowly dwindling down to months, but I’m going to go out with a bang and I’ll show the entire GOL that I’m going to win this match, eliminate as many as I can, walk out of GOL and onto Skyfire Wrestling’s next show saying that I’ve climbed the mountain of GOL and left the Skyfire Wrestling flag flapping in the wind!
Chris Crippler.. La Azteca Rumble Winner!”
Chris smiles sadistically as the scene fades away to black and transmission is lost.
A deep British voice begins to speak.
“Guadalajara, Jalisco. Mexico”
He clears his throat.
“Performing for their up and coming show ’El Gran Anniversario’, kind of self-explanatory that it’s their anniversary show, with it running for a full year. Wow. I don’t think many people foresee it lasting this long but here we are!”
He snorts.
“Congratulations is in full order for the guys at GOL, not many promotions last that long these days, promising the world that they’re going to be the best thing since sliced bread. Yet they disappear as quickly as they came!”
The man mimics a ‘poof of smoke’ using his hands then smiles.
“The main event for El Gran Anniversario will be the La Azteca Rumble! Now..”
He pulls out his cellular phone, taps on the screen a few times, he then squints his eyes as he reads off his phones.
“…According to the Urban Dictionary, Azteca means ‘The culture of Mexico City, originating from the Aztec Indians. Someone who was born and raised in Mexico City.’ With a few hashtags and a quote of ‘I am a real Azteca warrior!’”
The man presses the sleep button on his phone and places his phone into his suit jacket pocket.
“I’m an English… Sorry, politically incorrect in these times we live in… I’m a British man heading into a Mexican promotion, heading into a match that is promoting the pride of Mexico, for the opportunity to headline the Mexican granddaddy of them all! Eternal Lucha. I’m not sure how it’ll go down for me to win.” He smirks “We’ll soon find out, won’t we!”
The man looks serious before realisation hits him.
“I’m sorry. Where are my manners?”
He extends his hand out
“The names Chris.. Chris Crippler!”
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Chris pours the boiling hot water from the kettle into his cup, stirring it with a silver spoon before tapping it on the rim of the cup, he places the spoon into the sink and blows the steam away from his drink. Wearing just a white shirt, untucked, buttoned up with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow, a pair of freshly pressed black suit trousers and polished shoes, Chris heads out of the kitchen and into his office. Taking a sip from his drink before placing it down onto his desk, glancing over to the wall to his left to see all the glistening titles in there display case, he smiles as he looks to the left of his computer monitor to see the brand new Skyfire Wrestling Honour Championship. He looks at the wall adjacent to the desk to see a wall filled with framed pictures, Chris wonders over to them to see of the pictures from his early years in Great Britain, looking at one in particular that causes Chris to look up in reminiscence.
The posters at the front of the venue showed the ‘World of Sport’ icon with black and white images of famous British wrestlers. The date clearly visible shows 11th April 1984. A young Chris Crippler stands in front of the venue looking awestruck, placing his duffle bag on the wet concrete path from the drizzly rain, he pulls out an envelope from his back pocket and opens it up. Inside is an invitation to wrestle at the event today, rereading it over and over to make sure it is the right date and place, he places the letter back into the envelope and into his pocket. The nerves finally getting to him as he walks to the doors and tries to open them, locked, he then grabs his bag and heads around the back of the building to find the stage door open. Chris casually walks inside to see some of the wrestlers from the poster are in their makeshift changing room, all in one place as some have already gotten into their trunks whilst others still in their day clothes, he walks over to a spare chair near the far corner and places his bag down with butterflies filling his stomach.
He glances around the room at the stars that he use to watch on the television on a Saturday afternoon, the ones who compelled him to want to be a professional wrestler, ignoring his mother and relatives to seek the dream of being one of them. Chris had skipped school and travelled on train to different parts of the county, finding local promotors to get trained in the British style of wrestling. More recently he’d encountered wrestlers who travelled overseas to do six week stints in Germany, United Arab Emirates and South Africa. Gaining some lessons with them in training but Chris knew he’d have to experience the tours himself, to get better as a professional he’d have to travel overseas and get that knowledge through weeks of hard matches, countless tournaments, train each and every day with wrestlers and trainers alike. But tonight was his first professional bout in front of a live audience.
Chris had gotten changed into his basic ring attire that he could afford, match worn black trunks & black boots that are a couple of sizes too big, sitting on the chair as he studies the other guys in the changing room. Some have pints of beer chatting, others cigarettes or cigars, the room had turned quite smoky and laddish. Chris gets up and walks over towards the door leading into the auditorium, peering through to see many fans had arrived to get into their seats, the master of ceremonies and some of the promotor’s staff is near the ring chatting to fans. Chris gulps as his casual gaze turned into fright, stepping to the side of the door with his back against the brick wall, breathing in and out quickly as he can feel his hands and head getting numb in fear. His hearing impaired but the one voice he could hear is from an older wrestler who was coming towards him.
“You don’t look too good, Kid” He takes his cigarette out of his mouth as he glances out at the crowd. Chris looks the elder statesmen up and down, wearing similar attire to himself, the only difference is the huge age difference. He takes along intake of his cigarette and exhales as he turns back to the young Chris. “First time, huh?”
Chris nods as the old wrestler smiles. Slapping Chris’ pale white shoulder, a slight pinkish red mark appears as Chris looks down at it, looking back up as the older man takes another inhale from his dwindling cigarette.
“We all have to start somewhere” He points at the door. “And this is where you start your journey!” He lowers his hand down and stares at Chris with intent. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Slightly offended at the question, Chris nods but he glares at him, he is about to answer but the old wrestler laughs.
“You are going to get slapped about tonight” He takes a long inhale of his cigarette and speaks with smoke pouring out as he speaks. “Let me give you some advice, kid, if you really want to do this remember just one thing. That you come into this business with nothing and you’ll leave this business with nothing. It is a bent business but always remember where you come from!” He stubs his cigarette out with the sole of his boot. “You are an entertainer, first and foremost, you are here to entertain and if you want to get better at this.. you’re going to have to wrestle better people.” He looks sincerely at Chris. “Let me be honest with you, you won’t get that here, do this for a few months and head over to All Star Promotions. That guy will make you wrestle guys better than you and could propel you to Europe.” He looks over his shoulder just in case he was being overheard. “Take an eight by ten photo and a little post card with you, advertise yourself, push yourself once you’ve established yourself.”
Chris nods as the sound of the bell being rang and the master of ceremonies begins to announce, one of the promotors walks over to the two of them and signals them over to the rest of the guys, the old wrestler slaps Chris on the shoulder with a wry smile. Chris peers through at the auditorium one more time before heading over to the group of wrestlers.
Chris nods his head whilst tapping the photograph of his first ever wrestling match on British television. Thinking to himself that he’d always remembered that bit of advice. He notices another picture nearby, one he had forgotten about, looking at it to see himself wrestling in front of a large Japanese crowd. He smiles recollecting that moment.
Many years had passed since his first professional British bout. Chris had listened to the old wrestlers advice that night, having been a whipping boy for many of the guys for several months before heading to the rival promotion, wrestling guys who had travelled the world and gaining experience from wrestling the better guys. Managing to travel overseas himself to doing six week tournaments at a German circus tent in Hamburg, going to Dubai, wrestling around South Africa and other counties like France and Spain. After several years of improving himself as a professional wrestler, wrestling up to fifteen five minute rounds all over Europe, Chris spends little time at home as he is living on the road in whatever county wanting him at the time.
After spending several months in Europe, Chris had finally returned home, his mother greeting him with open arms and a handful of letters. Chris places his wrestling attire into the wash, looking at many of the letters before chucking majority of them into the rubbish, sitting down to have a cup of tea and a meal by his mother. He had almost finished his meal when there was a knock at the door, his mother is about to answer but Chris stopped her, going to the door and opening it whilst chewing on his food. A man stood there holding a parcel, Chris looked at the truck to see the word ‘Fed-Ex’, Chris takes the letter and scribbles his signature on the delivery drivers clipboard. Chris shuts the door and opens the parcel, inside is a letter, placing the empty parcel down on the top of the sofa and reads. He looks up at his mum with a look of confusion. Walking around to sit on the sofa and rereads the letter again, his mother wonders over with a look of worry on her face, Chris looks up at her and smiles as his dreams have come true. Leaning back to grab the empty parcel, reaching in to find a ticket, Chris feels like a kid in a toy store as the excitement is brewing inside; he has been given the opportunity to wrestle a few months in Japan.
Twelve hour flight from Heathrow to Tokyo, Chris wonders out of the plane and into the hectic airport, grabbing his luggage and wonders towards the entrance of the airport. Taking everything in as a sinking feeling hits him. Near the doors is a Japanese man holding a sign that reads ‘Mr Crippler - British Sensation’ on, he seen guys like this in the late night movies after wrestling shows, never did he think that someone would actually do that for him. Chris wonders over to him. ”I’m Chris Crippler” The Japanese man smiles, bowing his head, then signals for Chris to follow him outside and towards a black car. He opens the back passenger door for him, Chris feels very special as he sees onlookers looking towards him, Chris chucks his luggage bag onto the seat and he sits down next to it. The Japanese gentleman shuts the door and heads to the driver’s door, Chris looks out of the window as the driver starts the engine and roars away into the busy Japanese streets, peering out of all of the windows to soak in the ginormous city that is Tokyo.
Not knowing where he was being taken but he didn’t care, a lot of the well-established guys on the European circuit had dreamed of breaking Japan, never did he ever imagine that he’d beat many of them to live this dream right here right now. The car gently pulls up outside of a hotel and comes to a halt, Chris grabs his bags as the driver opens the door, stepping out into the brisk Tokyo air and he could feel it’s electricity. A Japanese man in a suit stands before him and bows, Chris nods his head unsure if bowing might offend, the driver closes the door and pulls off behind the two. “Welcome to Tokyo, Mister Crippler” Chris looks slightly taken back by the fluency of the English language. “I hope your flight was satisfactory for you”
“It was, thank you” Chris replies courteously “I have to say this has come around rather quick” Chris continues as he steps closer to the Japanese gentleman. “Don’t get me wrong, right, I’m very grateful but I haven’t been travelling around as long as some of the other guys!”
Chris is about to wheel off some names but the Japanese man cuts him off. “We have scouts all over the globe, Mister Crippler, our European scout has recently been at Hamburg in Germany and reported to us about you!” He smiles to Chris “You are not here by mistake or by fluke, we have heard reports about you before from our scouts in Johannesburg, as well as in the United Kingdom too”
Chris shrugs his shoulders “I suppose I’m not going to fight this, huh, don’t get me wrong I am very grateful… I’m repeating myself now, I am sorry …But I am and I just cannot believe this young guy from Essex is about to wrestle for the Japanese community!”
The Japanese man acknowledges this, wrapping his arm around Chris’ shoulder, heading inside of the hotel foyer. “Puroresu.. Japanese style professional wrestling …has become distinct in psychology from, you could say, the origins of it from the professional wrestling of North America.” He looks at Chris to see him taking every word in. “The fans consider this a way of life, of sorts, legitimate fights with strong martial art style hitting and very strong submission holds. Known as Japanese Strong Style, it is truly about the perseverance and spirit from the competitors!” The two stope. “You’ve also got the Kings Road approach which is what you generally see in North American wrestling…”
“I.. er, haven’t watched any American wrestling” Chris speaks rather embarrassingly “I have seen highlights when I get in from long journeys across England, but I’ve never really sat down and watched it, I’m one of traditional British rules lasting multiple rounds so the fans see a proper wrestling encounter!”
The Japanese gentleman nods his head “You will learn the ways of Puroresu, Mister Crippler, it will help you in the future when America comes calling”
“America?” Chris hadn’t really thought about heading to America just yet. “I really don’t think..”
“You didn’t think we’d be knocking on your door but here we are” The Japanese gentleman smiles “We have seen scouts from across the shores in recent times, if you do well during your three months, then maybe your opportunity in America may come sooner rather than later” he points towards the reception desk. “Now let’s get you checked in and we can discuss your schedule, okay?”
Chris nods his head and heads to the reception desk. The next few nights where a hard lesson for Chris, who had been use to the long and strong British wrestling style, the Japanese way of wrestling is completely different as he felt completely new like he had done when he first started all those years ago. Soon he had been studying under several wrestling tutors, wrestling matches each and every day, the audience soon grew to like the plucky young Brit who managed to capture the hearts of the Japanese fans at the end of the three months. Chris felt sad his time had come to an end but the whole experience had grown Chris as a performer. Waiting in the hotel foyer for his ride to the airport, Chris sat whilst glancing at the newspapers, a man wearing a cowboy hat and a suit walks up to Chris and hands him a card. Chris lowers the newspaper and reads the card. ‘Jim Johnson – Wrestling Agent. Dallas Texas‘. The man doesn’t say anything apart from pointing to a telephone number. Chris places the card into his pocket and watches the man disappear into the crowd.
Chris looks at the next picture along that has that agent’s card below a picture of his first match on American soil. He glances at all the other pictures close by and smiles at those memories, looking over at the respective titles in the cabinet nearby, Chris walks back over to his desk to pick his drink up and take a few sips from it, looking at his storied career in his office with fond memories. The flat screen television that is placed between the championship belt cabinets is switched on by Chris, who has picked up the remote from his desk, the screen illuminates showing Guerreros of Lucha chapter nine show entitled ‘Because I got high’. Leaning against his desk whilst drinking his drink to watch the action unfold, the advertisements of the ‘Falcon Cup’ and ’El Gran Anniversario’ appears, a wry smile appears on Chris’s face as he finishes off his drink and places the cup down on the desk near his championship belt. ‘Eternal Lucha appears on screen and Chris pauses the television.
“I’m going to be at El Gran Anniversario!” Chris mumbles under his breath. “and I’ll be the one main eventing Eternal Lucha! Winning the La Azteca Rumble match!” smirking as he thinks of that prospect becoming a reality.
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Chris Crippler had travelled to Guadalajara, Jalisco. Mexico a few days ago, getting acclimatised to Mexico and getting his human body clock adjusted, the last thing he wanted was for jetlag to be used as an excuse for the main event of GOL. Chris wanted to be at the best he could be with such a huge reward on stake.
Especially with next month’s first round match for the Falcon Cup on the horizons, not many of the GOL will know of what he is capable off, if he wins the La Azteca Rumble then promotions like EWC, WWH, FSociety, Seattle Pro, Lions Road, Redemption Wrestling, Honor Wrestling and UKWF to name a few will be on high alert, showing why Skyfire Wrestling is the promotion to watch.
Standing in the middle of the square at Palacio de Gobierno, the grand historic building in the background with the trees below it, the water fountain to his left is flowing freely as Chris Crippler stands before the camera. Wearing his tailored black suit and white shirt, the Skyfire Honour Championship strapped around his waist, Chris looks around at all the people wondering by before he begins to speak.[/b]
“The building behind me is the Palacio de Gobierno del Estado de Jalisco.. I think that’s how it’s pronounced.. the Federal government office on Avenida Ramon Corona in Guadalajara, Mexico.” Chris points to the building. “Why am I here? To truly understand Guerreros of Lucha you need to understand the culture, the history, the way of life here in Mexico. I could be ignorant to everything about Mexico and what GOL is all about, coming in like a traditional outside and say I’m the best and ignore the values, but I am the Honour Champion of my promotion. Skyfire Wrestling. It is a division that is close to my roots, coming from the British tutorage all those years ago, learning the ways of being a technically sound professional whilst honing my skills in Japan.” He lowers his arm down. “I am making my debut in GOL in the main event of their anniversary show, no pressure to perform to the best of my abilities, for the opportunity to headline the biggest show on GOL’s calendar. Presuming it will be challenging for the Rey de Reyes Championship. I’m going to be facing some of the world’s best performers in this match, all seeking the same opportunity, all of us cannot be the winner of the match but one of us will. One person will be La Azteca Rumble winner of two thousand seventeen.” Chris points his index finger into his own chest. “I intend that to be me!”
“From the World Wrestling Headquarters to Lions Road, Extreme Championship Wrestling Federation to Seattle Pro, Hammerstein seems to be appearing everywhere and anywhere, least not forget he’s been a part of GOL’s fixtures for a few months too. Either that is a credit to the Arizona native or not. Having to travel here there and everywhere, why not settle down in one place and call it home? Is it hedge your bets in the hope to find success? ..I’m asking as if I cared about you, Hammerstein, truth is I don’t give two flying monkeys about you. You could perform in every promotion possible if needs be in order to find your happiness, if you think you’re going to win this match then you’re mistaken, Hammerstein. I may have done my dues as to travelling from promotion to promotion, country to country, I’m now semi-retired whilst competing for Skyfire Wrestling, I am fresher than most of the guys competing in GOL, especially you Hammerstein, someone who competes all the time with no time to rest. I will exploit this when I eliminate you for this contest, Hammerstein, throwing you over the top rope like an empty drinks carton out of a moving car. You will not know what hit you but you will realise that this old man eliminated you when you stare at me from the hard, concrete floor.” Chris smiles.
“Another travelled star, one who’s reputation supersedes her as a competitor, not through being talented but for being a compete bitch. I’m sure she’ll agree to that summery, huh Angel Kash, the women I first watched in Ring of Beauty almost eight years ago. The trillion dollar princess, holder of the Trillion Dollar Championship, the women who goes from promotion to promotion like a high class escort. Just like Hammerstein looking for success in multiple places, not focusing on one at a time, someone else who’ll truly not be at their rested best when they step into the rumble match.. Another person to exploit. Eliminate from the equation before they realise their faults and erase it with the tip of their pencil, I’d of snapped that pencil in two, throwing the eraser far away leaving you an open target. Showing GOL your faults as I throw your blonde ass over the top rope!” He mimes throwing someone over the top rope with a broad smile on his face. “The likes of Mohammed Al Thani, Holly Buchanan, Dragon Diamante, The Clownz to name bar a few I do not know, I will do when the bell sounds for the Rumble, I may not be accustomed to them and their promotions like I highlighted with Hammerstein or Angel Kash, but doesn’t mean I am going to completely dismiss you as threats. That would be ignorant of me to do so. Coming into a new place and not knowing people is part and parcel of the debut process. If I encounter you in the ring then I’ll do what I do best, wrestle, then when the opportunity arrises I’ll eliminate you from the contest and your dreams of becoming Rumble winner will fade away and die!”
“Helena Noir & Rosario, the two of you will be competing for the chance to represent GOL in the Falcon Cup, a tournament I also will be involved with next month. An opportunity to see some of the competitors up close and personal, a chance to watch my potential opponents in a next round in person, who could pass that chance up with a bit of homework before my very eyes. But I cannot jot information down like I can when watching it on stream, I’m going to have to memorise key bits, before eliminating you like the rest. …It sounds like I’m going to eliminate everyone by the way I am talking, I know others will be eliminated by other competitors, but if I don’t think I can eliminate everyone then what is the point of me being a part of the rumble match?” Chris looks at the camera with a puzzled look on his face. ”Sam Washington, the ultimate American patriot in the land where America is considered chewing gum on the floor, or excrement befouled by one of our canine friends. Who’s old time values of American Patriotism is truly cringe worthy! He and the Ultras believe they can become Rumble winners, in their own rights, I will show them why the British Empire conquered and ruled the world at one stage in our worlds history. The British Empire did what America always wanted to do, yet they’ve failed, just like you Ultras and Sam Washington, history will indeed repeat itself!”
Chris covers his mouth to lets out a cough before continuing. “Maquina Negro, not at all racist their! James Edwards, Markus reeves, Joey LeClair, Everyday Heroes.. More people I’m not truly familiar with but I’m not going to dismiss, why will I, any one of them could possible send me crashing to the outside at any time. But I also know I have the capabilities to eliminate you guys too and I intend to do that with each and every one of you, I see you teetering on the ropes, I see an opportunity to clothesline you over, you’re on the turnbuckle and I notice the chance to get you over the ropes… I will seize upon it and you can think upon ‘What if’ as you wonder back up the aisle with your head hanging low!” Chris looks down and pats the silver plate of his championship belt then looks at the camera. “Matt Angel, you’re not the only promotional champion going into the Rumble match, Mister Karnage-Pro Championship Wrestling's Maximum Karnage Champion, pleasure to make your acquaintance, I’m Skyfire Wrestling’s Honour Champion. You are the man who says he is going to put his heart, soul and body on the line to win this match. Good, I hope you do, if I get a bunch of Angel Kash’s or John Blades then I’d be sincerely disappointed! You may be considering yourself a new guy but new guys don’t win titles, new guys don’t enter matches like this in anticipation to win like you. Matt. I’m considered an old veteran of this sport, wrestling more than three decades nearly, I am not as spritely as most of the guys in this promotion but I have the heart, desire, the never-say-die attitude you claim to have. Who will be proved right, Matt, the young pup or old yeller that needs to be put down? I’ll bring the shotgun, I’d hate to put the pup down but with so much on the line, I intend to make sure this old dog has one final bark and that bark is at Eternal Lucha!”
“One of the most dominating wrestlers in recent years, the women who has conquered every promotions possible, lighting up the LAW, Roxi Johnson. She is the force to be reckoned with, as is Jack Tillman, obviously not a women but still someone who can become a champion within the Extreme Wrestling Corporation isn’t someone to be sniffed at. Both capable of walking out the winner, both capable of showing this old man a thing or two within the ring, both could be going to Eternal Lucha whilst I’m licking my wounds back in Skyfire Wrestling. BUT there is the quandary as I don’t intend to be sitting on the sidelines, licking any wound, I will be the one looking to capitalise and conquer at the anniversary show and become the Rumble Winner!”
Chris takes his championship belt off and drapes it over his shoulders as the camera zooms in close to the long haired brits face.
“I am known as the British Sensation for a good number of years, my years are slowly dwindling down to months, but I’m going to go out with a bang and I’ll show the entire GOL that I’m going to win this match, eliminate as many as I can, walk out of GOL and onto Skyfire Wrestling’s next show saying that I’ve climbed the mountain of GOL and left the Skyfire Wrestling flag flapping in the wind!
Chris Crippler.. La Azteca Rumble Winner!”
Chris smiles sadistically as the scene fades away to black and transmission is lost.