Falling Down

Some people sure can talk… 

So, London it is… I hate London. People romanticise it all around the world for the Royal Family, the Tower of London, the museums and so on and so on. What they never tell you though, is that actually it’s just like any other mega-city in the world. New York, Tokyo, Paris, they’re all the same really.  

It’s loud. It’s hot. It’s busy. Fuck me, is it busy…  

It’s in a constant state of flux, buildings being demolished, skyscrapers being built. And it’s so focused around two things; politics and finance. If that doesn’t make your skin crawl then I don’t know if you are really alive. 

I’ve been to London before, of course. I travelled through here after I left Germany before my short stint in Liverpool. I don’t remember what I did in the week or so that I spent here but I remember how I felt. Stressed, angry, impatient, frustrated… 

And that’s what London does to people. Whether it be trying to travel anywhere while a sea of grey-suited drones floated along to their places in the rat race or the abhorrent prices that everyone charges for everything, it’s an infuriating place. A place that takes someone who is already angry and frustrated and makes it much, much worse. I couldn’t have lasted here, I was pleased to leave it again. Just like I will be after the show this time. 

But there’s more.  

Another reason that I hated it was the gaps between the “haves” and the “have-nots”. The blatant privilege and greed of the elites result in new buildings being created apace but with spikes on the ground outside to keep homeless people from sitting or sleeping there. It results in huge investment in services in the “City of London” where the bankers and financiers profit from and play with others money but not in the areas where ordinary people live. It results in parts of a city sparkling while others crumble. 

Yes, privilege and entitlement have built, destroyed and rebuilt large parts of London.  

But London’s not the only place where privilege and misplaced entitlement exist, is it? Finance and banking aren’t the only industry where people feel that they entitled to success and reward, are they? 

No, “Apokalypse”. You know as well as I do that there’s another industry that is riddled with that sort of feeling, don’t you? 

Our industry. 

Our company. 

You. 

Now, let me be very, very clear here “Apokalypse”. You are good at what you do. Certainly, one of the best here in SFT. I don’t dispute that for a minute. In fact, in speaking to someone who likes numbers and statistics a lot more than me, I know that’s not just a matter of my opinion.  

Since SFT relaunched Tuesday Night Titans in 2017, 38 competitors have appeared on it. Did you know that, you and I are the only current SFT roster members in the top 5 ranking for win ratios… I guess it’s no real surprise, if we’re honest. You’ve won more than you’ve lost. Oh, wait, you haven’t lost you’ve “let people win”. How noble.  

But the fact remains, you are a talented individual, friend.  

It’s not your talent that I take issue with. 

I’ve enjoyed your ups and downs in SFT but it’s clear that your undoubted talent has impacted how you see the world. Surrounded by those who cannot match you in the ring or verbally, you start to feel on a higher plane of existence than the rest of us, right?  

Despite the weeks long losing streak, you focus on the victories and ignore the defeats. You are better than everyone else, they’re to be scoffed at because they aren’t at your level and they aren’t worthy of the top spot.  

That’s for you. 

You not only deserve it, it simply belongs to you because of who you are. You are entitled to the top prize in SFT not because of what you have done but because you are “Apokalypse”. 

But you see, that’s not how I see the world. It’s not how I see our industry. I’m sick of the entitlement, I’m sick of the presumption that opportunities are deserved and not earned, I’m sick of hearing the same things across multiple companies from multiple privileged assholes.  

Birthrights, prophecies, fate… Give me a fucking break. 

You’re not special, in that sense, you’re just a symptom of a sickness that I have fast lost patience for in professional wrestling.  

And I’m not alone in that. There are many who have reached the end of their patience, their tolerance. My hope is that soon we will see the industry cleansed of that sort of entitled worldview, and start anew. 

I suppose, were the story of “Apokalypse” a movie, this is what film critics would call the ‘twist’, right? 

“Apokalypse” is… not your real name, Kevin. Quelle surprise.  

You are the son of an SFT legend, raised by another one after you disappeared from your family. I guess adoption laws were different back then. 

Now, I’m not much of a film buff myself. It’s why I couldn’t bring myself to talk to that idiot on the plane. However, I do know one film where a Kevin is lost by his family and your life, well, there’s not been a single swinging paint can or electrocuted burglar as far as I can tell… 

To use another film industry term though, you do have quite the ensemble cast supporting this story, don’t you? 

It’s quite the collection of names. Many that I recognise, none that I have cared to remember much about. However, that is all that it is, Kevin. It’s just a list of names. 

You are not them and they are not you. Their successes are not your successes. You are your own leading man in this story and it’s important not to go too often to the well of celebrating others success for your own ends. It weakens you and creates hubris. 

That your father, sister and brother-in-law were champions does not matter to me. As a stickler for details, here’s one that you have evidently forgotten or overlooked; championships do not spread through family connections, they are not hereditary. 

An ensemble cast always runs the risk of overshadowing the main character, doesn’t it? 

This gaggle of supporting characters have all achieved more than you. They will all go down in the annals of SFT and wrestling history. Will you? An intercontinental title that you were given rather than won… It’s not the most glittering track record compared to the others in the background of the movie of Kevin’s life… 

Wait, what’s that? Look up your Japanese material on the internet? Deathmatch shit?  

Pass.  

I know enough about you now, I don’t feel the need to research you more. I’ll do my best to focus on you but it’s tough when the others around you are just so much more interesting…  

I know who you are and I know who you are not. 

I know you’re just… Kevin. 

I wonder, Kevin, whether you see yourself as a hero or a villain in this journey to your ‘birthright’ which currently sits around my waist? A sympathetic childhood, a family to emulate… but also the language of violence, threats of aggression and analogies around death… In a movie, I guess you could be either, right? Maybe Kevin is the hero and “Apokalypse” is the villain? 

I don’t think you would use the words hero or villain, you’re more articulate than that, you can pick your words well… After all you are, what was it, a “bad-ass ass-kicker”? 

Quite. 

It seems that you represent what we both already know, that others may not understand quite so easily.  

There are no heroes or villains in the real world. 

The world is not black and white. It is very, very grey. 

Like London, actually. 

You’ve chosen to cultivate an air of mystery and danger around yourself to hide your truth from us all. The truth that, well, you’re not all that different to so many others on the SFT roster. 

To the uninitiated in the histories and controversies of SFT, what makes your claim of special status due to your family history different to that of, say, Robert Saints? What makes your use of past glories to justify present day titles more deserving than that of the Accountant or Reno Destiny? What makes your victories on arrival in the company more deserving of the top spot than those collected by Candace? 

Nothing. Certainly nothing that you have done.  

Your dad – the one who lost you, not the one who raised you – achieved so much in SFT. 

Owner, Chairman, President, Vice President, Commissioner, Lieutenant Commissioner, 3-time World Heavyweight Champion, Intercontinental Champion, 2-time United States Champion, 2-time Television Champion, Lightweight Champion, 4-time Hardcore Champion, Titans Champion, 4-time Tag Team Champion, Stable Cup Holder… 

He even had time to not quite die on a show in 2002 and then come back to win those titles. And all at a time when SFT had more competitors, more shows and was an altogether different place. 

And then there’s you. 

Now the proving yourself to dad trope is well trod in movies, isn’t it? When you eventually win the SFT World Title maybe people will see you in the same light as him. As the confetti rains down, you’ve finally got to the top of the mountain you’ve created for yourself. What a success for Kevin! 

Oh, wait, it’s not that dad who you’re proving yourself to, is it? 

Well, real dad believes in you, despite you not being on his level. That must be nice for you, Kevin. 

It’s good that you are able to ask him for advice. That you have your real dad to go to and your former captor rots in the ground it suggests to me that you have already arrived at your happy ending. Why not cherish that for what it is… instead of beating yourself up for what it isn't. 

Forgive me for not having sympathy for your history of family strife. I’ve not been abducted but I’d venture a guess that I wouldn’t enjoy it. However, I’ve not had the happy ending that you have so I’m not in the business of sitting here feeling sorry for you for how you were raised. It's time for the tough life Olympics. Have you been keeping score?

Your mother? Dead. My mother? Dead.  

Okay, 1-1. 

Your father? Happily, alive, giving you advice. My father? Dead. 

1-2. 

Your wife? Happily, alive, supporting your work. My wife? Alive but a closeted lesbian married for visa purposes… 

I jest. It’s not a competition for who has had a harder life. Certainly not a close one. 

Moreover, it’s clear that everyone around you has unwavering confidence in you, including your sharp-tongued wife, Josie, who inexplicably has words of advice for me.  

Gee, thanks, Josie. 

I think she’s missed the point a little though, Kev. You see, for me, it’s not about being the face of SFT. I don’t care to count the number of companies that I’ve worked for since I was a teenager in Dresden, Germany. In professional wrestling and in a multitude of other industries. Legally and not so legally. In none of those jobs have I cared to be the “face” of a company.  

I’m there to make a living. For me it’s not about fame or adulation, it’s about making money from something that I am good at. And I am good at what we do, Kevin. 

I want change in our industry and if I have to keep my profile high to achieve it, then I will rise to the top of whichever company choses to employ me. It’s a means to an end, not an end in itself. 

But at the end of everything, for you, it’s just about winning that World Title isn’t it? It’s all about the gold. 

It’s not a bad looking championship, the SFT World Title. I know you don’t covet it just for the aesthetic alone but it can’t hurt, right? Championships across the business vary in quality and prestige, they use different materials and designs but they’re all the same in one way. 

It’s a piece of metal to signify that you’re the best at something. In some ways, they’re no different to the little trophies that children get for winning a school karate competition or sad, unfilled middle-aged people get for winning a ten-pin bowling league. 

But we attach significance to them and they become special. I see the SFT World Championship as a means to an end. It isn’t the goal itself but part of the process to achieving a wider goal. Do I get a thrill when I have to explain what it is at airports? Sure. But then, when you look like me, any positive in an airport is an unexpected thrill… 

But you, you’ve attached significantly more meaning to this title than me. I almost pity you. This piece of gold and leather is all that you care about. It’s all that you have been striving for since March. I almost just want to give you it. 

Almost. 

I won’t hold this belt forever and that’s OK. That’s not why I have it. It’ll fulfil a purpose and once it has outlasted that, it’ll move on. Of all the people in SFT, there are a few that I would be furious if they were able to take this title from me. There are others who I would not be too bothered by if I dropped it to them. 

And then there are those who I feel are worthy and I would drop this with a grudging acceptance and respect to. 

I’ve not decided quite which group you fit into yet, Kevin. But one thing is decided and that’s that regardless of how I drop this title or who to, you are wrong on the when. 

This is not the time for me to drop the SFT World Title and for you to steal it from me now would be an aberration. 

And I simply won’t let that happen. So, despite your undoubted talent and unrivalled passion for this inanimate piece of metal, I won’t be letting you take this from me in London. 

You can threaten to break my bones or haunt my dreams all that you like, friend, because I know that they are only words. You are just a man, just a wrestler, like countless others that I have defeated in the past and will defeat in future. 

And when I do, and it feels like your world is coming falling down, just remember… there’s more to life than gold, Kevin. 

Now, I suppose you feel that your presumed stealing away of the SFT World Title from me would represent your redemption? The end of this pseudo-Hollywood journey to make your famous old dad proud and stick it to the now dead evil man who kidnapped you but did get you started in this business?  

The commercials would call this “the feel-good hit of the summer”, I’m sure. Little Kevin is all grown up and he’s made his family proud. He’s won the gold from the nasty foreigner. That’ll send the kids home happy. 

Except, this isn’t Hollywood.  

You can consider this an obscure art house movie where the story seems like it’s making sense but in the end, things don’t go as expected and actually you leave the theatre confused and angry that the all American boy doesn’t win the day.

Truth be told. It isn’t likely to be pleasant watching at all but watch they will. Your family, your wife, all your fans. They’ll watch you fall. 

You were the one to fear in SFT but now you are the one to root for and feel sorry for. Don’t you see, just like the London Bridge of old, your aura is falling down. 

Are you still the one to fear? Well, we’ll see about that. 

Well, hello London, you cunt.