From the private journal of Wendy Briese
9-12-13
It felt so weird watching Velocity from home tonight. I couldn’t even remember the last time I took a show off. And I probably shouldn’t have either. It is, after all, the last show before Sin & Sacrifice. Before my first ever FFW title shot. I should be doing everything I can to promote it. After all, I’m the one who wanted this match. I’m the one who has to deliver, both in the ring and at the box office. The pressure’s on, and it started the moment I was named number one contender.
But I just couldn’t bring myself to go to China, and give myself, if even for one night, to a country that treats its citizens so horribly. I know the people of China are just like us, and certainly deserve to see some professional wrestling they’re no doubt starved for. But the problem is, no matter how noble our intentions are, we’d just end up being pawns to the government’s needs. I just didn’t want to be a part of any of it.
Thankfully, Mr. Kincaid was a very understanding boss, and gave me the show off. It wasn’t a horrible business decision either- plenty of Americans will be buying Sin & Sacrifice, and it’s here I’d be be served promoting the event. The amount of radio and TV interviews I’ve given in the past few days alone… it’s nearly as exhausting as travelling.
But anyways, the show. Velocity was both elating and horrifying. Horrifying because of the ending, when that vile witch Hexstar somehow managed to injure Kinsey’s husband like that. It’s one thing to attack and torture a wrestler, but when you go after someone’s family…
Perhaps it’s because it hits too close to home for me. I remember two years ago, back in X3, the week before my ladder match against Madman Szalinski. He put Terrence in the hospital by blindsiding him in the locker room, in front of our daughter, no less! The feeling of helplessness you get when someone you loved is injured like that while you’re out in the ring doing your job… it’s a sickening feeling. I hope Kinsey thrashes Hexstar from pillar to post, and then the woman is promptly released from FFW, because there’s no place for that in this company.
But on the flipside, there’s Misty. She has become at nineteen everything I should have been at twenty-two, when I had the same experience she did. Someone who refuses to play the victim, who will stand up for herself and others. My fears about Maddy and Holly running roughshod over this company are unfounded, because they don’t stand a chance against one irate Whitmore, let alone two. And that’s what we need to happen in two weeks. For good people like Misty, and Nicole, and Kinsey, and Sunny, and Steph to rise through the walls of inequity in front of them and claim triumph over the bullies that are tormenting them.
Bullies are everywhere. At school, at work, on the street, even in restaurants. And the definition is vague. Too many times people think a bully is any adversary who gets the better of them, because too often we live in a culture of victimization. But sometimes you don’t need a clear cut definition to recognize a bully when you see one. The Blondetourage. Hexstar. The Rudos. There’s a lot in wrestling.
Which is ironic, because wrestling is one of the few things in the world that allows you to deal with bullies in the most direct and simple means necessary- by fighting them on an even ground, beating the tar out of them, and forcing them to respect you- or at least instill enough fear in them to leave you alone. You don’t the get to do that to the obnoxious customer treating the waitress like dirt, or the kid on the playground who builds himself up by tearing others down. There’s consequences out there, but in the ring, so long as you play by the rules of the match, it’s fair game.
But that still doesn’t mean you can’t stand up to them. But while being able to stand up for yourself is great (and a MUST in wrestling, because you can’t afford to look weak by having someone else fight your battles for you), you have to be prepared to stand up for others as well. After all, not everyone is made of the same material, and courage and virtue are too rare of traits in today’s world. Those of us who have them need to spread them around. It’s something I try to do, and it’s something I tell my daughter to do as well. There will always be strife and friction, that’s the way of the world. But we need to have ZERO TOLERANCE for injustice, sadism, and self-absorbtion.
Because for every bully that gets put down, the world shines just a little brighter. And for every Holly Adams that gets whipped by a Misty Whitmore in FFW, the company becomes that much better, and we all sparkle just a little bit brighter. And that includes the FFW Championship.
I’m proud of FFW as is, and I know that when I put my hands around the FFW Championship at Sin & Sacrifice, that will be the most proud I’ve ever been of any accomplishment I’ve ever had in my career. To be the champion of the greatest company the world today… that’s an honor. But that doesn’t mean we can’t shine even brighter.
Because how much more brightly will it shine when we’re the company when little former gymnast Misty Whitmore, along with her recently-injured sister, walk down to the ring and smack two loudmouth blondes who only for shallow aesthetics? How much better of a company will we be when a bartender and former valet overcome the odds and win gold off of a pretentious, mean-spirited poet and her sidekick, along with two masked cheaters who’ve never wrestled a clean match in their lives? And God, how much nicer would we be if Kinsey Robinson finally shut Jessika Hexstar up?
I almost feel envious that they have such a righteous cause to fight for. My clash with Val is no less important, but it is for personal, selfish reasons- my own glory, my own prestige. And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course- the FFW Championship is the ultimate goal of everyone in the company. But it’s not because of me that belt is the most prestigious prize in all of women’s wrestling, if not wrestling period. Nor is it because of Val, nor Isabella, nor Scarlett, nor anyone else who came before them. It’s all of us, from Val to me to Eileen to Tara all the way on down to women like Jo and Alysson and Kinsey. Anyone who’s walked out there every night and wrestled the best match they could, and didn’t focus on compensating for their shortcoming with sneak attacks or interference or distraction or any other kinds of cheating. They’re the reason the FFW Belt means what it does.
Do me proud at Sin & Sacrifice, girls. I know you will. And after your turns have come and gone, it’ll be mine. And then I’ll do everything I can to return the favor!
===================
Monday September 23, 2013
College Park Elementary School- Playground
Indianapolis, Indiana
2:41 PM Local Time
Theresa Thompson leaned forward on the balls of her feet, toeing the line that bordered the number two square. Just feet away, Heather was serving the ball to Lily, who had just taken her place in the fourth ranked square. The ball bounced once, and the dark-haired girl hit it towards Theresa, who batted it diagnoally across to Rose. Rose hit it weakly to Heather, who hit it harder to Lily, who then tapped it to Rose. To Theresa’s surprise, Rose sent the ball flying straight at her, and she had to spring back to let it bounce, winding up to hit it at Lily. But suddenly she spun on her heel, backhanding the ball at an unsuspecting Heather, who had no time to react as the ball bounced at her feet, then through her legs out of the square.
Theresa grinned as all the other children groaned For the fifth straight recess, she got into the number one square!
And just like the other four, she planned on holding it all the way until the end of recess.
Heather had a pout on the face as she retrieved the ball, and threw it at Theresa, who caught it, still grinning. Heather sulked to the back of the line of kids waiting to play, as Theresa’s best friend Angela stepped into the fourth box. Lily stepped up to the third, and Rose moved across into the second. Theresa took her place in the first square, smirking as she looked over the kingdom she now ruled.
Was there any doubt that she was the queen of four-square at College Park?
She served the ball to Angela, a little too gently, who hit it over to Rose. Rose smashed it at Lily, who dove to hit it before it went out of her reach. The ball arced high in the air, right at Theresa, who stepped back, her teeth chlenched in triumphant determination. The gentle lob was going to give Theresa the easiest knockout spike in the world- and Theresa never missed.
The ball hit the ground, bouncing to a perfect height, just above her head, and the other three girls braced themselves, hoping their square wasn’t the target, and if it was, by some stroke of luck, they could save themselves.
The hit never came. Instead, the ball bounced harmlessly a second time, a collective gasp rising from the other girls. Theresa was out… and on the easiest shot in the world too!
Theresa, however, was no longer paying attention.
She had turned away from the game, and the ball, stepping out of her square, looking across the playground, her emerald green eyes narrowed. Behind her, Rose idly picked up the ball, but everyone else was watching the brown-haired second grader striding across the playground.
“You leave her alone!”
Clinton Sickles was large for a third grader (rumors had it that he’d been held back… twice, although Theresa knew they were false). He also was one of Theresa’s least favorite people in the whole world, an arrogant bully of a jerk who took special delight in torturing the helpless and weak. Growing up across the street from him, she’d fallen prey to his ‘pranks’ a few too many times herself.
Right now, Clint was playing keep away with his friends, tossing a playground ball back and forth, with Brianna, a small frail, shy second grade girl who always sat alone at lunch, in between. Brianna was running back and forth, tears running down her face, trying to get her ball back, as the boys laughed and tried to get the ball as close as they could to her without her reaching it. The tantalizing and taunting only seemed to make the small girl even more distraught. Theresa bit her lip, it was sickening.
“Hey, look! It’s Terr-Rat!” Clint chuckled, and Theresa felt her face flush. Clint had come up with the unflattering nickname after overhearing her mom call her ‘Terr-Bear’ one day, and decided she was more of a rat than a bear. Theresa did her best to shrug off the insult- she didn’t want to give Clint the satisfaction.
Instead, she simply folded her arms across her chest, staring directly at Billy. “Give the ball back.”
“If you want it back, take it!” Clint said, holding it out. Theresa stepped forward, but wasn’t surprised when just before she grabbed it, Clint pulled back and tossed it to a weasely looking kid named Billy. Brianna ran at Billy, trying to get the ball, only for him to lob it across to a kid who’s name Wendy didn’t know. He held the ball up, everyone laughing as Brianna jumped up fruitlessly, trying in vain to knock it out of his hand.
Theresa didn’t even turn around, her eyes never leaving Clint’s. “I said give it back.”
“Or what?” Clint sneered. “You gonna run and tell? Gonna have your mommy come and beat me up?”
The other boys hooted and chuckled. Theresa spared a glance over her shoulder, where her own group of friends still stood watching. Rose must have at some point dropped the ball, as it had rolled away over by the tetherball courts. Beyond that, she could see Mrs. Dillon, the playground monitor, talking with another group of girls. She sighed. The eldery woman was pleasant enough, but for keeping order on the playground, she was worthless. Theresa had wondered if the woman could even see beyond ten feet, the way she squinted.
She heard a whooshing sound, and looked up. The ball had passed within less of a foot of her, right back into Clint’s hands, and he stood in front of her, juggling the ball from one hand to another, as if taunting her to come and get it. She heard panting and footsteps behind her, and turned as Brianna came running up, still trying to desperately get her ball back.
“Hey, Brianna,” Theresa said loudly. “Forget these idiots. Come and play four-square with us.”
Brianna, stunned at actually being invited to something, stood transfixed for a second, then cast another, longing look at her ball. She wiped tears from her face with her sleeve, then nodded. She heard a faint groan behind her, knowing that some of her own friends would be displeased with the thought of an intruder in their clique, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to deprive Clint of his sick little game.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing Brianna’s hand, and leading her away, out of the circle of boys. She saw her girls trudging back to the four square game, Rose running to the tetherball courts to retrieve their own playground ball. A sudden thought hit Theresa’s mind, and she looked over at Brianna. “Do you know how to play four-square.”
Brianna, tears still shining in her eyes, shook her head. Theresa smiled reassuringly. “It’s really easy. All you have to do is-”
“Hey- Terr-Rat! Think fast!”
Instinctively, Theresa turned at the sound of Billy’s voice- a mistake. No sooner had she looked up than the ball came smashing into her face, knocking her to the ground. Tears of both pain and humiliation flooded her eyes as she scrambled back up, one hand over her face where the ball had struck.
The boys were all doubled over laughing, a couple collapsing on the ground, rolling. Clint was laughing the hardest of all, clutching his side from the mirth. She felt her face burn again, as she wiped the tears from her eyes, only for them to be replaced by more. Through blurry eyes, she saw Brianna running to retrieve her ball, a look of trepidation and relief mixed on her face. Then she looked back at the still laughing boys, and a red tint came over her vision. She took a step forward. Then another. Then another. By the fourth she was jogging, and by the tenth, she was sprinting, her fists clenched at her side, directly at Clinton Sickles.
All the while, Clint continued to laugh, oblivious. It wasn’t until she was five feet away that he realized what was going on, and the laughing stopped immediately.
But by then, it was too late.
And that’s when the screaming began.
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