Post by lucasbalkan on Oct 4, 2020 15:17:21 GMT -5
“As-Salaam Alaikum”
I looked up from my phone at the hotel staff who was clearing the empty glass from my table. I raised an eyebrow at him and the smile faded from his face.
“Oh! Sorry, I thought that you were… It means…”
“Wa-Alaikum Salaam”
The smile returned to his face, this time more of relief than anything else.
“Sorry brother. Can I get you another drink?”
“Yeah, you can. Another whiskey.”
I looked back at my phone to get on with my business as this young man hurried off to the hotel bar. He’d assumed I was a Muslim, not an unreasonable guess of a darker-skinned man here in the UAE. Maybe I was once. Still, at least I look the part.
First impressions, right?
When I returned to Strike Fantasy Towers in 2020, it was much the same as when I left. Many of the same faces, the same shows, the same titles. There was not very much that was new, as such. I started to follow the company again in early 2020 and when the office reached out it was around the time of Bad Abundance, which introduced me to a new group of individuals.
One of those new individuals is now coming after my title on Tuesday Night Titans.
But we’ll get to him.
It is not right to judge a man
— By hasty glance or passing whim,
Or think that first impressions can
— Tell all there is to know of him.
When I first saw Asriel, I was immediately drawn to his eyes. This is not the story of some star struck lovers, there was no attraction there, but of kindred spirits connecting. I could see the eyes of another who had faced a long, tiring path to this industry and I knew that we would have much in common. I knew from the bags under his eyes that he had the same sort of internal conflict that I face, never completely settled nor happy. Conflicted.
We spoke after the show, on which he lost his match, while we smoked and drank. He was cold to me to begin with, as I would be if someone approached me with a business proposition when I was feeling at my lowest, but the cigarettes, alcohol and talk of redemption and retribution seemed to warm him quickly.
It has been a long road that we have subsequently travelled and we know each other well now but I often think back to those first impressions. Mine of him as a peer who I must meet, him of me as a stranger who offered him a cigarette after a show and he assumed either wanted to fuck him or fight him.
Who knows what weight of weariness
— The man we rashly judge may bear,
The burden of his loneliness.
— His blighted hopes, his secret care.
She was equally angry when we first met. My first impression of Hera was that of someone who was on the verge of a breakdown. She was battling against the odds, not because of a lack of talent but because of the lack of respect given to female competitors in independent wrestling. Asriel told me that he had previously shared a card with her outside of New York City and that she would have similar frustrations to ours, similar goals to mine. So, when the opportunity arose we travelled to a show in a shitty town hall and we watched her compete.
She was furious, like someone had released a Visigoth upon her opponent. However, I got the very strong impression that this was not about the opponent.
She won, in a very stiff match, and stormed to the back. Well, the back is a generous term. We overheard her arguing with the promotor and interjected ourselves. We questioned his questions, we stopped him from dominating the space, we allowed her to get her shots in. Figuratively and literally.
We had no intention of portraying ourselves as her saviors. We just wanted to give her an even platform from which to fight her own battle. Which she did with gusto…
Sometime later, Hera told me that her immediate impression of us that we were assholes. She isn’t incorrect, she’s just right in a different way.
A pompous guise or air of pride
— May only be an outward screen,
A compensation meant to hide
— A baffled will, a grief unseen.
And then there is the 4th member of our little family. My impression of the current SFT intercontinental champion was, in fact, at the Bad Abundance show in 2020. I had seen a woman in a niqab on an ICW show before but I had not thought to look into who she was. Hera was to join ICW and she would find this out, I assumed. However, immediately, I realised that I would need to take more notice of her.
Was it because of her talent? Because she was promoted to captain of “Team ICW”? No. Not quite.
No, it was the reaction to her prominence.
“George Sullivan: Is he out of his mind? How come an Egyptian lead team ICW?”
Here was a competitor of talent and prominence, being disparaged and doubted because she had the audacity not to be born in the US of A. My first impression of her was formed before I had even seen or heard her. This is someone I need to meet. This is someone who will understand. This is someone who will have the same anger as I do.
And I was right. When the hand of friendship was extended, it was eagerly taken. Friendship, Jay. You know, it is possible for men and women to be friends without “hooking up”. You do know that, right?
The hand of friendship has now turned into the clenched fist of the Flock, who aim to right a few wrongs and don’t aim to loosen our grip on the titles which we currently hold.
Which explains the end of the last episode of Tuesday Night Titans…
I suppose many people’s first impressions of the Flock in SFT will have been of confusion. What could we possibly want? Why now? Why deny us this match?
Sure, I heard the boos. I know how people see us now. Of course, I don’t care. I am not in this industry to make friends. The Flock is not a group of friends who hang about in a “club house” or visit each other’s homes. We are a necessary evil. You might not recognise it yet or understand why but in time, it will become clear.
Just wait.
However odd a person seems,
— However strange his ways may be,
Within each human spirit gleams
— A spark of true divinity.
But now, speaking of odd… Now, I find myself defending this title again and this time it will be a contest against someone who I have not extended a hand of friendship to. No, even when we teamed together in the Lethal Lottery, I had no intention of truly working together with him as I stayed laser focused upon the regaining the SFT World Title.
And yet, now here he is again.
Hello, Jay.
What was my first impression of you? It’s hard to recall. The first time that I saw you was when you won the SFT intercontinental title on Bad Abundance. I think, like everyone else, I was a little surprised to see someone who was not even an SFT roster member winning that title but your reign, like my first impression of you, was unremarkable.
Stripped of the title in disgrace, AWOL for weeks or months… It’s hardly the behaviour of a champion. It’s not what is expected of an important player in a company such as SFT. It’s not what this company, this industry, needs.
You’ve come back though. Bounced back in the ring admirably and shown some, eh, “interests” out of the ring. Spooky…
And now here we are, Jay Impact challenging for the SFT World Championship.
It’s interesting that we’re in Dubai for this show as I’d go so far as to say that it reminds me of you. You can take a second to think of that as a compliment.
On first glance, Dubai is a glitzy, well-polished, loud and impressive city. Their wealth and power have bought influence and soft power that many other cities and countries could never have imagined. People descend on Dubai for vacations, for work, for investments… It seems perfect from afar.
But scratch below the surface and all is not as well as it seems. The skyscrapers and the roads that the tourists pound were built often by exploited workers from South East Asia, hundreds and thousands have died in the Middle East to this new religion – wealth and greed. A city, and country, with a veneer of respectability where homosexuality is illegal, those advocating democracy have been tortured and workers’ rights are trampled on. Similar to other despotic regimes, like Saudi Arabia. Similar to. Not actually Saudi Arabia… Robert…
Yes, all is not as it seems in the city of Dubai. A good first impression gives way to a truer picture.
When you bound to the ring at Bad Abundance to take the intercontinental title from Reaper, people sat up and took notice. You outlasted a champion, overcame violence and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. You did all of this while looking like a star, someone who a company could rely on and who could continue to climb the mountain.
But then the truer picture started to emerge.
You were not worthy of that title. You were not a star. You were not reliable. The opinions of you started to turn, the office was pissed, the fans angry, the roster frustrated. The veneer of you being a star faded on closer inspection.
You seem to have rebuilt some of that good grace from others but I do not forget so easily. While you have amassed an admirable win record on SFT Tuesday Night Titans, these wins can’t mask the truth of the matter.
You are not the star that you think you are.
Wrestlers like you gain success, fame and prominence through influence and through happenstance. You have not shed the same blood, sweat and tears as those of us in the Flock. You gain success on the backs of those who work hard but do not make people laugh or wear deluxe clothing. You scrape by in the ring doing the bare minimum to overcome those in the mid-card and pretend that you are superstar.
For people like you, there is always a tipping point. You will reach a ceiling. If we have learned anything this century, Canadian wrestlers named Jay are not true World Champions. While your friend – Candace – will go down in history, you will always be in their shadow. Maybe you should start a podcast or something to keep yourself relevant.
I suppose that is not completely true. You have achieved some firsts in your time. The first non-SFT roster member to win the SFT intercontinental title, the first and only man to win the ICW Women’s title… You’ll forgive me for not standing to applaud.
You see, for us, those who profit from the work and the standing of others, need to be brought back down several steps. Like Icarus, you have soared too close to the sun and you will fall. You will fall hard. You are not the one to take this title from me.
You claim to be able to exorcise demons and devils outside of professional wrestling. Unfortunately, your rise to this position where you challenge me has brought the monster to your own door. No amount of chanting or crosses or bible verses will drive me out.
I am here to stay.
While I know that you like to talk and joke, I am a man of action and not words. You will discover this, again, when we meet in the ring in the Middle East.
However, I will make you this promise, Jay. This match will be one of the harshest that you have faced. I will not give this title up to someone who is unworthy and that is how I have viewed you since that first time that I watched you win a match where you relied on a commissioner to count the pinfall. With that said, if you can prove now that you are worthy; if you can truly best me without tricks or desperate tactics, then I will reconsider.
If you can beat me to take this title from the clenched fist of the Flock, from my iron grip, then you will have proved yourself to be a worthy champion who has deserved a reign with this title based upon your actions and nothing else.
And that will be a success for you but also for us. If we can help to truly establish a meritocracy within professional wrestling, one federation at a time, then we are already taking steps to our goals.
Unfortunately, for you and for us, that isn’t going to happen.
So what can first impressions tell?
— Unthinking judgments will not do,
Who really knows a person well
— May also come to like him too!
You’re a comedian, Jay, so here’s the punchline.
Despite all your successes, despite your former friendship with Candace, despite your previous achievements… my first impression is the same as what I see you as now.
Unremarkable.
“Another drink?”
He looked at me with a little suspicion. I believe he still harboured the notion that I was a Muslim but he was balancing that against the fact I had been drinking whiskey for the best part of the evening.
“No, thank you. I can drink in moderation.”
“Thank you, some foreigners who come here make such a scene. It’s a little embarrassing.”
I couldn’t agree more, I thought.
