Post by Dusty Griffith on Feb 10, 2022 23:03:09 GMT -5
So, that’s one down.
I went out and did exactly what I said I would.
Crush Kaupena Yoon.
Now, that’s not to say I don’t respect the kid. I do. Yoon put up a decent fight. He hits hard and, hell, he’s got enough guts that I’ll give him his due.
So, respect to him. He earned it.
Now I’m moving on.
Because, y’see, this war march that I’m on didn’t end with Jeff Andrews in December and neither will this path of destruction that’ll be left in my wake, not until I’ve made it all the way up this damn mountain.
That’s where the World’s Heavyweight Championship is.
And yeah, I know.
I’m a broken record.
I mean, hell, you wouldn’t be wrong if you called me obsessed, because I am. The fact is this. It doesn’t matter who it is, whether it’s Chris Card or someone else entirely waiting for me at the end of this rampage I’m on.
The only thing that matters to me is that belt.
And until I have it, the march rages on.
The next stop?
Tokyo.
I went out and did exactly what I said I would.
Crush Kaupena Yoon.
Now, that’s not to say I don’t respect the kid. I do. Yoon put up a decent fight. He hits hard and, hell, he’s got enough guts that I’ll give him his due.
So, respect to him. He earned it.
Now I’m moving on.
Because, y’see, this war march that I’m on didn’t end with Jeff Andrews in December and neither will this path of destruction that’ll be left in my wake, not until I’ve made it all the way up this damn mountain.
That’s where the World’s Heavyweight Championship is.
And yeah, I know.
I’m a broken record.
I mean, hell, you wouldn’t be wrong if you called me obsessed, because I am. The fact is this. It doesn’t matter who it is, whether it’s Chris Card or someone else entirely waiting for me at the end of this rampage I’m on.
The only thing that matters to me is that belt.
And until I have it, the march rages on.
The next stop?
Tokyo.
=/=
Wasn’t long after my official debut with Gus Arnold’s outfit that the calls started pouring in. I’m back in action, so everyone wants a piece of me again. That’s fine, because I hate sitting around waiting for the next fight.
Only thing is, I've barely had a chance to settle into things in So-Cal. Hell, between work in the gym and being on the road, there ain’t been much time for actually making myself part of the team.
Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I’ve always preferred the grind of the gym and, yeah, I may love me some peace and quiet every so often, but after a while the wanderlust sets in and I’m going stir crazy.
I need to be on the move. To be doing something; and what’s better than a good ol’ fashion fight? After all, there’s always a fight to be had somewhere. Only this time, it’s in the place where this pro wrestling journey of mine began.
It’s somewhere I haven’t been since before this god forsaken pandemic threw the whole damn world into chaos; but here I am, flying around the world, because the pull of being able to compete in a Japanese ring again is something special to me.
Only thing is, I've barely had a chance to settle into things in So-Cal. Hell, between work in the gym and being on the road, there ain’t been much time for actually making myself part of the team.
Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I’ve always preferred the grind of the gym and, yeah, I may love me some peace and quiet every so often, but after a while the wanderlust sets in and I’m going stir crazy.
I need to be on the move. To be doing something; and what’s better than a good ol’ fashion fight? After all, there’s always a fight to be had somewhere. Only this time, it’s in the place where this pro wrestling journey of mine began.
It’s somewhere I haven’t been since before this god forsaken pandemic threw the whole damn world into chaos; but here I am, flying around the world, because the pull of being able to compete in a Japanese ring again is something special to me.
=/=
Thirty Five Thousand Feet
About 11 Hours into a 12 Hour Flight
It’s been a long flight.
Usually I hate to fly. Not because of fear, but because you’re stuck. I wouldn’t call it claustrophobic, more cramped if anything. Plus, being packed into a tube with a few hundred people ain’t how I’d prefer to get from one place to another.
Some of those people can be annoying. Loud. Chatty. Usually because they’re nervous about all those things that could happen. If it ain’t clear by now, I like my peace and quiet. I get all the noise I want when I’m in the ring.
That said, this one hasn’t been too bad. BRAVE paid for an upgraded flight, so I’m not stuck in coach with the rest of the sardines who’re packed together on top of each other. So, at least comfortable enough.
And my only neighbor is a quiet Japanese man. Looks to be in his fifties and based on the suit he’s wearing, he’s probably a salary-man for some corporation in Tokyo. Either way, he hasn’t said much beyond the usual pleasantries when we first took our seats.
Which is fine by me, because one of the few upsides of being on a flight for twelve hours is it gives you a chance to sit back, put on a pair of headphones and zone out for a while so you can focus and put it all together in your head. Just close your eyes and visualize what’s next and how you plan to attack it.
First, Satoshi Watanabe in BRAVE.
They tell me he’s the hotshot of the promotion. The supposed ‘ace’ and would be champion. Guess that’s why they’re bringing me in. The big American bruiser sent in to put the young man to the test; so they can see if the boy can live up to those man-sized honorifics.
Sure, they’re using me. Mostly because I’ve got a name in Japan. Probably better than the one I have in North America if I’m being honest.
Whatever the case, I’m looking forward to this.
It’s been too long since I’ve fought a real wrestler. Not like these goons that have taken over the sport in America. I hate sounding like that old man yelling about how things aren’t the way they used to be.
But they aren’t.
They damn sure ain’t better.
Nowadays? Like this gang of misfits I’m lined up against in NPW? Some sorta scrambled eggs nonsense of a match with Danny Ray, Neo James Carner and Takaru Matsui.
It’s garbage matches like this that make me question the whole damn thing and why I even bother. There isn’t any real sport to it.
To his credit, ol’ Gus didn’t need me to say it outloud. He knew I was gonna hate it the moment he handed me the assignment and was quick to try and spin it.
Honestly though. He’s probably just wondering how fast the clock is ticking on my willingness to stick around and wants to get as much outta me as he can before it all flames out.
It is what it is.
If Bossman thinks an old war horse like me needs a bigger, better challenge than the last one he gave me, so be it. I don’t have to like it, I just have to do it.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The cheery voice of the flight attendant rouses me from my meditation. “We have been cleared to land at Haneda Airport in Tokyo.”
Well, we’re here.
Like I said, the march rages on.
About 11 Hours into a 12 Hour Flight
It’s been a long flight.
Usually I hate to fly. Not because of fear, but because you’re stuck. I wouldn’t call it claustrophobic, more cramped if anything. Plus, being packed into a tube with a few hundred people ain’t how I’d prefer to get from one place to another.
Some of those people can be annoying. Loud. Chatty. Usually because they’re nervous about all those things that could happen. If it ain’t clear by now, I like my peace and quiet. I get all the noise I want when I’m in the ring.
That said, this one hasn’t been too bad. BRAVE paid for an upgraded flight, so I’m not stuck in coach with the rest of the sardines who’re packed together on top of each other. So, at least comfortable enough.
And my only neighbor is a quiet Japanese man. Looks to be in his fifties and based on the suit he’s wearing, he’s probably a salary-man for some corporation in Tokyo. Either way, he hasn’t said much beyond the usual pleasantries when we first took our seats.
Which is fine by me, because one of the few upsides of being on a flight for twelve hours is it gives you a chance to sit back, put on a pair of headphones and zone out for a while so you can focus and put it all together in your head. Just close your eyes and visualize what’s next and how you plan to attack it.
First, Satoshi Watanabe in BRAVE.
They tell me he’s the hotshot of the promotion. The supposed ‘ace’ and would be champion. Guess that’s why they’re bringing me in. The big American bruiser sent in to put the young man to the test; so they can see if the boy can live up to those man-sized honorifics.
Sure, they’re using me. Mostly because I’ve got a name in Japan. Probably better than the one I have in North America if I’m being honest.
Whatever the case, I’m looking forward to this.
It’s been too long since I’ve fought a real wrestler. Not like these goons that have taken over the sport in America. I hate sounding like that old man yelling about how things aren’t the way they used to be.
But they aren’t.
They damn sure ain’t better.
Nowadays? Like this gang of misfits I’m lined up against in NPW? Some sorta scrambled eggs nonsense of a match with Danny Ray, Neo James Carner and Takaru Matsui.
It’s garbage matches like this that make me question the whole damn thing and why I even bother. There isn’t any real sport to it.
To his credit, ol’ Gus didn’t need me to say it outloud. He knew I was gonna hate it the moment he handed me the assignment and was quick to try and spin it.
Honestly though. He’s probably just wondering how fast the clock is ticking on my willingness to stick around and wants to get as much outta me as he can before it all flames out.
It is what it is.
If Bossman thinks an old war horse like me needs a bigger, better challenge than the last one he gave me, so be it. I don’t have to like it, I just have to do it.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The cheery voice of the flight attendant rouses me from my meditation. “We have been cleared to land at Haneda Airport in Tokyo.”
Well, we’re here.
Like I said, the march rages on.
