Post by Jesse Jamester on Sept 22, 2021 14:00:51 GMT -5
Title: Saga of the Calgary Son (Part 2)
Date: January 27th, 2021
“I can’t believe it… I have a son. Who’d have thunk it aye,” said Jesse.
A long draw on his glass of whiskey, Jesse seems to be taking the news better than expected. In front of him on the table, a manilla folder, which he had just gone through with his son Julius. All the paperwork was there, explaining that his wife Julie, had given up Julius right after birth when Jesse was in Japan. The timeline was accurate, DNA confirmed, and the eyes, they said it all. Two kids now, what a wild revelation for the 41 year old wrestler from Calgary, Alberta Canada.
“So what do you want to do then?” asks Jesse to his son, sitting adjacent to him at the table, drinking on a glass of tea. “Surely, there's stuff you want to know about me.”
Pausing as he pulls the glass from his lips, Julius looks at Jesse and says, “I want to know how to wrestle, like you.”
Nodding, the words brought up memories for Jesse. Times when he thought about raising a son, talking to his wife about kids, and what he envisioned for the sort of father he wanted to be. So much so, since his own father wasn’t around. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree it seemed.
“Before you tell me to go to school, I did marketing. I don’t need a job,” said the silver tongue of Julius. The tone in his voice is quite similar to that of his father.
Mulling the moment over, Jesse could tell his son had the same passion he had. Why else would he waste his time to move to Calgary, Alberta Canada, to take over a home of the man he knew zilch about?
“What is it? Why won’t you do it?” Julius pesters his old man, the lack of patience waning as he watches him take a sip of the drink.
“I didn’t say anything. Learn to wait for someone to speak before you make assumptions,” responds Jesse.
“Patience isn’t my best quality. I’m about results,” chimes in Julius.
“So, you’re Mr. tough guy now huh? Got all the answers and think you’ll shoot to the top,” laughs Jesse. “Kid, most of this business is a-boot paying your dues. Since I was just a few years younger than you are, I have paid them all.”
Cracking his neck, Jesse slides the drink into the middle of the table. He was done with whiskey, and beginning to see that his son wasn’t going to stop until he gave in.
“If I do this, you listen to me. I don’t want to hear excuses, aye. You may be my son, but I won’t put my seal of approval on you being in that ring until you’re ready. Understood?” firmly stated, Jesse looks directly at Julius.
Nodding, Julius doesn’t speak, knowing his dad wasn’t looking for words.
“You have a lot to learn, and it starts with trust. Trusting who will and won’t have your back,” says Jesse as he leans back in the chair.
“Like the Syndicate and yourself?” replies Julius.
“Exactly. I know those guys have my back. Unlike Lord Dominicus, Joseph Mack, and Alex Turner, who can’t figure out which way is north. The Syndicate always know the bigger picture, no matter what happens, we execute on what we aim to do. Northern Pro Wrestling is your best bet kid, no other place in this alliance of companies can you find the talent we have. Let alone, a promoter you can trust,” says Jesse with a tinge of attitude.
“What do you mean?” asks Julius.
“Promoters work for themselves. Gus Arnold sought me out, and I made him pay when I showed him what I was capable of. Negotiating your worth is HUGE in this business. Any body can get a contract, but did they get the right contract? Did they get a fair shake? Probably not. Tell’em you want a try out, and that you’ll work so many dates before you renegotiate your contract. If they low ball you, then you cut the dates in half. Now that gives you half the time to prove your worth, but if you hook the audience, the promoter will cave. It’s basic shit really,” explains Jesse as he takes out a photo from the manilla envelope.
There she was, his former wife Julie. The brunette with a heart shaped face, beaming smile, and a much younger Jesse next to her, smiling and hugging her. There was nothing quite like your first love, or in his case, his only love. All these years later, Jesse didn’t bother with finding another person, for he had met his. That magic couldn’t be duplicated.
“Do you miss her?” asks Julius.
Exasperation follows. “Pfft, miss isn’t the right word kid. I’ve pined for that woman for 20 years, there isn’t a soul on this earth that matches her energy,” Jesse follows up.
“How did she die?” Julius mutters, regretting his words almost immediately.
Staring down at the photo, Jesse sets it down on the table and pushes the chair out, standing up abruptly.
“Not tonight,” says Jesse in a low tone, as he turns his back on the table.
“But…” Julius goes to respond but Jesse shuts the door as he walks into the garage.
Sitting there, Julius grabs the picture and flips it over. A scribbling says “Wedding” on it along with the year. Setting it in the manilla folder, Julius shakes his head.
“Wait until he sees what I can do in the ring already. He’s going to be proud!”
The confidence in his voice said it all. But what exactly did Julius Fristik have up his sleeve?
[End Scene]
Date: January 27th, 2021
“I can’t believe it… I have a son. Who’d have thunk it aye,” said Jesse.
A long draw on his glass of whiskey, Jesse seems to be taking the news better than expected. In front of him on the table, a manilla folder, which he had just gone through with his son Julius. All the paperwork was there, explaining that his wife Julie, had given up Julius right after birth when Jesse was in Japan. The timeline was accurate, DNA confirmed, and the eyes, they said it all. Two kids now, what a wild revelation for the 41 year old wrestler from Calgary, Alberta Canada.
“So what do you want to do then?” asks Jesse to his son, sitting adjacent to him at the table, drinking on a glass of tea. “Surely, there's stuff you want to know about me.”
Pausing as he pulls the glass from his lips, Julius looks at Jesse and says, “I want to know how to wrestle, like you.”
Nodding, the words brought up memories for Jesse. Times when he thought about raising a son, talking to his wife about kids, and what he envisioned for the sort of father he wanted to be. So much so, since his own father wasn’t around. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree it seemed.
“Before you tell me to go to school, I did marketing. I don’t need a job,” said the silver tongue of Julius. The tone in his voice is quite similar to that of his father.
Mulling the moment over, Jesse could tell his son had the same passion he had. Why else would he waste his time to move to Calgary, Alberta Canada, to take over a home of the man he knew zilch about?
“What is it? Why won’t you do it?” Julius pesters his old man, the lack of patience waning as he watches him take a sip of the drink.
“I didn’t say anything. Learn to wait for someone to speak before you make assumptions,” responds Jesse.
“Patience isn’t my best quality. I’m about results,” chimes in Julius.
“So, you’re Mr. tough guy now huh? Got all the answers and think you’ll shoot to the top,” laughs Jesse. “Kid, most of this business is a-boot paying your dues. Since I was just a few years younger than you are, I have paid them all.”
Cracking his neck, Jesse slides the drink into the middle of the table. He was done with whiskey, and beginning to see that his son wasn’t going to stop until he gave in.
“If I do this, you listen to me. I don’t want to hear excuses, aye. You may be my son, but I won’t put my seal of approval on you being in that ring until you’re ready. Understood?” firmly stated, Jesse looks directly at Julius.
Nodding, Julius doesn’t speak, knowing his dad wasn’t looking for words.
“You have a lot to learn, and it starts with trust. Trusting who will and won’t have your back,” says Jesse as he leans back in the chair.
“Like the Syndicate and yourself?” replies Julius.
“Exactly. I know those guys have my back. Unlike Lord Dominicus, Joseph Mack, and Alex Turner, who can’t figure out which way is north. The Syndicate always know the bigger picture, no matter what happens, we execute on what we aim to do. Northern Pro Wrestling is your best bet kid, no other place in this alliance of companies can you find the talent we have. Let alone, a promoter you can trust,” says Jesse with a tinge of attitude.
“What do you mean?” asks Julius.
“Promoters work for themselves. Gus Arnold sought me out, and I made him pay when I showed him what I was capable of. Negotiating your worth is HUGE in this business. Any body can get a contract, but did they get the right contract? Did they get a fair shake? Probably not. Tell’em you want a try out, and that you’ll work so many dates before you renegotiate your contract. If they low ball you, then you cut the dates in half. Now that gives you half the time to prove your worth, but if you hook the audience, the promoter will cave. It’s basic shit really,” explains Jesse as he takes out a photo from the manilla envelope.
There she was, his former wife Julie. The brunette with a heart shaped face, beaming smile, and a much younger Jesse next to her, smiling and hugging her. There was nothing quite like your first love, or in his case, his only love. All these years later, Jesse didn’t bother with finding another person, for he had met his. That magic couldn’t be duplicated.
“Do you miss her?” asks Julius.
Exasperation follows. “Pfft, miss isn’t the right word kid. I’ve pined for that woman for 20 years, there isn’t a soul on this earth that matches her energy,” Jesse follows up.
“How did she die?” Julius mutters, regretting his words almost immediately.
Staring down at the photo, Jesse sets it down on the table and pushes the chair out, standing up abruptly.
“Not tonight,” says Jesse in a low tone, as he turns his back on the table.
“But…” Julius goes to respond but Jesse shuts the door as he walks into the garage.
Sitting there, Julius grabs the picture and flips it over. A scribbling says “Wedding” on it along with the year. Setting it in the manilla folder, Julius shakes his head.
“Wait until he sees what I can do in the ring already. He’s going to be proud!”
The confidence in his voice said it all. But what exactly did Julius Fristik have up his sleeve?
[End Scene]
