Post by lucasbalkan on Aug 23, 2020 7:04:06 GMT -5
“Business or pleasure?”
“Business.”
“Thank you, Mr Balkan. Your room should be ready soon. You can leave your bags here for now if you like, if you want to go and explore London.”
“No, thank you, I have no intention of going walking about London. I’ll wait in the bar.”
“Oh, it’s perfectly safe. There’s nothing to be afraid of…”
I believe she continued talking but I walked away briskly towards the bar.
Nothing to be afraid of? Idiot. What does she know?
Kam frikë.
It always makes me smile when men – and it is almost always men – say that they aren’t afraid of anything. What a charmed, sheltered life these men must have lived, never exposed to anything outside of their comfortable little bubble that has prompted them to be afraid. Or… more likely, men just lie. We don’t talk about fear, just like we don’t talk about other emotions.
What a world.
Half the world told they shouldn’t talk about anything for fear of being seen as weak. We are supposed to be stoic and angry, not afraid or emotional. But… that’s not always how the world works, as we know. Not everyone can be a “bad-ass” like Kevin.
In fact, maybe you’re such a “bad-ass” that fear doesn’t bother you. Some of the things that you say, you seem angry and unhinged. You’re a monster, you’re going to break my bones, haunt my dreams... You seem sometimes, to borrow a phrase from the English while we are in their country, as mad as a box of ferrets. Perhaps the delusions of grandeur, the exposure to violence in death matches, the loving support of your wife, family and friends have made you immune to fear...
That seems unlikely to me and I think I know what you are afraid of. We’ll get to that.
But, before the end of everything, let’s go back to the start and let’s break it down. What is fear?
Fear is an ancient, primal emotion that all creatures feel. Up and down the food chain, all across the world, we all feel it. But let’s not talk in riddles and mystique. It’s science, really.
Fear is a response to a threat. It can be a real threat, like a fucking bear or a knife wielding maniac, or an imagined threat, like immigrants or enclosed spaces.
This triggers a reaction in us. It releases chemicals in the brain, it prepares our motor functions, it increases our heart rate… it prepares us for “fight or flight”.
Fear helps us survive. Evolution and history teach us that.
But real men like you aren’t afraid, right?
As we approached the border crossing, I found myself feeling warmer than minutes before. I knew that my body was reacting to approaching the border and the stress and tension that it would bring. It was remembering my previous experiences at borders and with border guards; the stress, the pain, the humiliation, the fear. I turned to my travelling companion and asked him to turn on the air conditioning, figuring that it might help to disguise the physical manifestation of my mental lack of comfort… But it was broken. I was furious but more than that, I was afraid. It was irrational as I am not longer the undocumented little boy crossing borders, I was no longer being transported across Europe… I am a grown man, a man with a green card and a professional wrestling World Title in my bag. And yet… my brain and my body were as tense as ever. I was afraid.
You know, unlike me, people often say that they’re not afraid or that they don’t care about something but their body tells a story than their words do not. Honesty isn’t the most widely present commodity in the world.
We all know the cartoony, exaggerated signs of fear, don’t we? They’re so scared they’ve gone white, they’ve pissed their pants, and so on. Beyond the fact that I can’t exactly go white when scared – that might have made some of the border experiences less of an issue – that’s not really what we’re talking about here.
Some are small. Dry mouth, hot flushes, sweating… They’re not pleasant but they’re not too serious. They’re maybe the initial signs that you’ve seen something, read something, heard something that has made you afraid.
Minor inconveniences turn to larger things that you cannot control. You know, the trembling, ringing in your years, the tightness in the chest, the rapid heart-beat… Those moments when you feel that others must be able to feel you shaking, to hear you heart pounding. And that’s not even the worst of it.
My hands still shaking, though it’s been two hours since we had the scare… The office staff stupidly forgot to warn us that the carpenter, or whatever he’s called, was coming to fill the extinguishers… After working for about fifteen minutes, he laid his hammer and some other tools on our bookcase (or so we thought!) and banged on our door. We turned white with fear. Had he heard something after all and did he now want to check out this mysterious looking bookcase? It seemed so, since he kept knocking, pulling, pushing and jerking on it. I was so scared I nearly fainted at the thought of this total stranger managing to discover our wonderful hiding place…
Anne Frank’s example there is a particularly extreme fear but it shows us the extreme ways fear shapes our bodily reactions. In some cases, when the fear is so strong, it feels like our bodies fail us. When the sight or the sound of a threat is so overpowering, it makes us useless in the fact of it. We choke, we feel nauseous… And then…
Then we’re out. Fainting, passing out, blacking out… Whatever you call it. Our body overworks, overheats, whatever… We’re out.
A fairly useless response by the human body to a grievous threat, no? I suppose our response to fear is not bound up in reason and logic.
Sitting in the passenger seat, passing my documents across, I was so physically tense I was worried I was going to pull a muscle. My jaw was sore from being clamped shut. I knew it was irrational but I couldn’t help it. The portly border agent looked over anything and seemed completely nonplussed by our presence. He gave my password and visa a second look but nothing serious. In the seconds that it took for him to do that, my heart was beating at the rate of a speed metal drummer… As we drove away, I exhaled deeply as I tried to shake off the symptoms of irrational fear to be able to get on with our day and our journey. It wasn’t easy.
In fact, there are few things less rational and logical than fear. Primal emotions like fear and anger, they are reactive and impulsive.
The logical part of my brain knows that when I’m crossing a border or using ID now, there’s nothing to be afraid of. But the other part of my brain begins to panic, throwing all reason and logic out of the window.
It’s the same when it comes to anger, isn’t it? I suspect this is an emotion that you identify more strongly with, Kevin. Anger can be a useful emotion if used and unleashed correctly, particularly in an industry like ours. In fact, I think you have used your anger well up until now. If you – as you say – a monster then maybe primal, impulsive emotions are the ones which benefit you the most.
If you can control them.
That’s the thing about emotions that exist outside of reason and logic, we can’t always be the one in control. Our emotions can take control of us and make us do things that we regret.
It must be tough being so angry, Kevin. I don’t blame you, of course, but it must take a lot of effort to keep channeling it in the right way.
I hope that your emotions don’t get the better of you during our match in London. After all, there’s so much at stake. The SFT World Title that you crave, the position as the face of SFT which you want so badly your wife projects onto me wanting, your dad’s approval… We wouldn’t want you to get angry and make mistakes, would we?
When you can’t keep me down, I suspect your brain will be working at a thousand miles per minute, trying to find new strategies and new solutions. And then you might remember what your dear old dad’s friend gave you not so long ago.
Maybe if I hit Balkan with a chair, that’ll keep him down, you think.
Maybe.
But in your anger, you’ll need to remember that this is no war, no “deathmatch”, this is a professional wrestling match where you need to actually defeat me to walk away with the prizes that you desire. What if you let your emotions get the better of you? What if you get disqualified? What if you let me provoke you? What if you lose again?
Just thinking about that must get you hot under the collar, Kevin.
About 2 seats behind me I hear these guys speaking Spanish. Now, my stepmother is Puerto Rican so while I understand a fair bit of Spanish, I don't speak it. So, I hear them talking but I don't pay attention because it's rude to eavesdrop & all until they say "that black girl up there" then my ears perk up. I keep my earbuds in so that they think I can't hear them & I continue listening. What they're saying is horrific. To paraphrase, they knew my stop (second to last one before the bus gets back to the terminal & while my stop is at the front of my neighborhood, it's got no street lights & at this time of night, empty.) & to put it simply were planning on "snatching that piece of ass up"
Anger is easily linked to fear but what should we do in situations like this young woman? Well, that’s where the old fight or flight reflex comes in. Should she fight the men who planned on attacking her? Or should she run?
It always depends on the threat that we face. If this woman was larger, stronger and taller than these men, maybe she would lean into the fight element of the reflex as she would be less likely to fear being physically overpowered. If not, she may wish to flee.
How we perceive the threats to our safety and our property is hugely important to the fear that we feel. If we know that something or someone is demonstrably dangerous to us, we are more likely to flee.
The numbers matter, of course. If you have others around you then you are less likely to perceive things as threats to your safety or sanity. Say, Kevin, speaking of those around you, what happened to “Skull and Bones”? Should I be looking over my shoulder for them? Should I fear them? I doubt it.
For some of us, we enjoy the fight and are less likely to flee but no-one can fight everyone and fight forever. We pick our battles, we assess our threats, we fight some of our fears and run from others.
When I met the man who was my travelling companion at the border recently, I could read that he perceived me as a threat. The more that I have got to know him, the more I understand. After years of indoctrination and exposure to the ideas of xenophobia and racism, a foreign sounding black man approaching him while he smoked... Maybe I don’t blame him.
“I thought you were a pious man”, I said.
His body tensed, his fist clenched, his brow furrowed. He only calmed as I smiled and passed him a beer. He did not flee. If he was afraid of men like me, he was willing to stand and fight them if needed. He was exactly what we needed.
Yes, I’ve been afraid in my life, many times. But I’m also used to being the one that people fear.
Sometimes, that’s legitimate and other times it’s ignorant.
At many times in my life, I have been in work and social situations where intimidation and aggression are needed to either protect myself or to get the job done. Having a background in combat sports, speaking in a gruff voice, having scars on my arms from getting caught in barbed wire as a child… I understood that I could make myself seem a threat to others and use that to my advantage. I wouldn’t have been much use as a security guard if people did not believe I could harm them, I wouldn’t have been able to ward off the actions of thieves and racist thugs in my younger years if they didn’t think it would be less than worth their while to rob or attack me.
But more often than not, the fear that I seem to inspire in others is not from any facts about me. It’s about who I am, what I look like, what my family believed in.
Like my now travelling companion did in the past, people look at my face and dark skin and it triggers a response. Very seldom is that response positive.
People hear my voice and now that I am not from the USA (and before that the United Kingdom and before that Germany…) and it makes them uncomfortable and scared.
People find out that I’ve had relationships with men as well as women and suddenly they see me as a threat.
You know, I don’t blame people for the fears that I provoke in them. It is not logic, it is not reason…
It is, simply, fear.
With all this being said, considering how important and primal fear is, do I fear you, Kevin?
No, I’m sorry to say that I do not.
Don’t take it personally. I don’t fear anyone in SFT. In fact, I don’t fear anyone in professional wrestling. Taken in isolation, maybe it would surprise any onlooker that I would not fear you. You’re taller, you’re heavier, you talk a good game, you have a new mohawk… But I don’t.
Because all you can do to me is beat me in the wrestling ring. You cannot change my life, you cannot take any part of me away.
If you win our match – as you are so convinced you will – then where will that leave me?
I’ll still work for SFT. I’ll still be a professional wrestler. I’ll still live and work in the USA. I’ll still be Lucas Balkan.
And that’s the most important part, really.
I am Lucas Balkan.
I don’t pretend that I am not afraid of anything. I don’t pretend that I feel nothing or care about nothing. I don’t pretend to be a monster.
I have been through more than others can imagine – even you, with your childhood. I have feared more and conquered more fears than anyone who inhabits SFT now or in the past.
I am your World Champion, for now, but more than that, I am a man who has been forged through fear, a man who has faced his fears, a man who has used fear to become more than anyone ever expected of me or from me.
And you…
You are not. You want people to fear you, you want to overcome your past, you want to stick it to your one time father.
You want to but none of them have been achieved quite yet.
And now I think that you are afraid that you won’t achieve all of this and that you are not as good as you think you are.
Lean in. Admit it. You are afraid. Maybe not of me but you are afraid.
“All the years
So many ways to count the tears
I never change
I never will
I'm so afraid the way I feel”
Don’t be like those other men, Kevin. You are a man, after all, not a monster – despite what you have said. Admit and use your fears rather than deflecting from them with threats and big words.
If you do, if you use them instead of hiding them, then maybe you will be worthy of claiming my spot at the top of the mountain after all.
Maybe.
However, I am afraid… that I don’t think you are.
“So, in town for business, huh?”
I never understood the need for small talk by bartenders. I guess it’s transactional. When you rely on tips for income, it’s best to be nice to people. I suppose it’s the antithesis of my life.
“Yeah…”
I drank the rest of my glass and gestured for another, using him for his primary purpose of serving drinks rather than conversation. He continued.
“What sort of business are you in, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I sighed and looked up from the bar at him.
“I’m a professional wrestler.”
His eyes widened, I suspect that my response was unusual.
“What? Like the Rock and Stone Cold Steve Austin?”
Yes, I’m exactly like them, I thought… Except than the money, profile, influence…
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Wow. That must be great! What is the event over here? Are you wrestling anyone famous?”
I considered this as he passed me another drink.
“Not quite. His name is Ke… His name is Apokalypse.”
“Oh, cool… he sounds scary?”
I drained the glass quickly and stood up to leave, I assumed my room would be ready by now. I left a ten pound note on the bar, the small talk tax, and shook my head as I responded.
“He was.”
Kisha frikë.
Some music to help Apokalypse/Kevin think about what he is afraid of.
