Post by chase on Mar 9, 2021 9:15:11 GMT -5
(Beyond the dancing flickering flames of a crackling fireplace glowing with red embers of a charcoal log sits Bryan Chase wearing white and blue pinstripe pajamas while resting comfortably in a black leather recliner. A small calico cat sits on his lap with a bookcase filled with popular and famous literature from novels to poems to recently “banned” Dr. Seuss books and everything in-between consuming the backdrop. Siamese genes show in the shape of the face, ears, tail, and the subtle lines of the plump puss that sat on the right thigh with yellow eyes closed as the little fur ball enjoyed the privileged perks of being a pampered pet.)
-Bryan Chase-
I am not here to disrespect anyone’s troubles or plights. Truth is, I have a thin layer of admiration for my upcoming opponent. There’s a plethora of clichés that can be used that could apply to the situation Gaz Mayberry found himself in such as you can’t teach an old dog news tricks or the classic gem of it’s not the size of the dog in the fight it’s the size of the fight in the dog. Comparisons were made between a guy on the back nine of his career and a grey haired bitch tied up to a tree and left to die however, I’m more of a cat person myself.
Dogs are loyal animals to a fault and serve a purpose in companionship and protection. Their bark is a loud alert that warns their owner to potential danger, much like an alarm system and their bite can be vicious but cats are nature’s healers. Purring releases endorphins in cats, and it can do the same thing in humans, too. Lowered stress hormones are helpful for healing, lowering blood pressure, and helping people cope with illness, too. … The same frequency has been shown to aid in the healing of broken bones, joint and tendon repair, and wound healing. What does a dog do besides slobber and beg for attention? Anyways, I digress.
(The warmth of the soft sleekness is felt under the palm, the soothing therapeutic purr vibrations help to heal infections, swelling, bone healing and growth, pain relief, muscle growth and repair, tendon repair and joint mobility.)
-Bryan Chase- This next little life lesson story might bore some of the viewing audience distracted by ADD but the rest of the bunch just might find this tidbit of information to be insightful on my character and how I became the recovering train wreck sitting before you today.
Many years ago, pre drug and alcohol addiction, When I was a young pup, a scrawny runt of the litter, I had no sense of myself. I was skinny and clumsy. There to be teased, mocked, ridiculed and antagonized at private school. In athletics, I was laughed at and treated like a rich, spoiled, soft brat. At that point in my life it wasn’t untrue. I suppose that’s the unfortunate side affects of being born into a family of Wealth with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was never a good team player because I didn’t want to depend on teammates that treated me like crap off the playing field but I did excel at individual contact sports like wrestling and kickboxing only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other kids thought I was crazy because I seemingly hated myself all the time.. purposefully putting myself in harm’s way and using that punishment received to motivate and fuel the competitive fire within me. Years passed and I learned to keep it all bottled up inside. I only talked to other perceived losers to avoid unnecessary conflict. Some of them are to this day are the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you’ll find a faithful friend forever.
So there I was, going through the motions and letting the supposedly best years of my life slip by.
That’s when Mr. Riker came into my life through the local youth center, better known to his fan base as the Mississippi Mauler. The notoriously Ruthless man with a handshake like a vice grip won the WWX Television championship title at the ripe old age of 60 years of age not once but twice and quickly became a mentor to myself along with many troubled kids in the nearby Southern California community, may his soul rest in peace.
Covid-19 cut his life short. In a lot of ways, Gaz Mayberry has a lot of similar traits. He wasn’t a former rugby star with nagging injuries that cut his career short like Mr. Great but he was an old school, hard nosed, take no crap Vietnam veteran that commanded respect and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn inside his Ruthless Wrestling Academy. Once one kid did and he left in tears after being tortured into submission with basic submission moves.
Mr. R seen potential in me when I didn’t have the confidence to see anything in myself. I looked like just another guy who belonged in the crowd rather than the wrestling ring but I had the passion and desire to make a career out of what I love in Wrestling. Coach said that he was going to, and I quote “toughen me up and make a man outta me.” We would hit the ropes until someone had to vomit and then he would sucker punch me in the solar plexus in the training ring when I wasn’t looking or suspecting it. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere.
A few months passed and every once in a while Mr. R. would give me a blindsided shot dropping me in the ring. The other students didn’t know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar in the gym. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it. The next training session came and from out of nowhere coach appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could go home and look at myself in the mirror now, that I’d finally have respect for the man looking back at me. Prior to that I was instructed not to look at my reflection “until I was ready” so I ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt.
I saw a firm body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. There were washboard abs where a soft jelly belly used to be. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn’t say sh–t to me. I finally had something that I never had before. Confidence.
Learning about what you’re made of is always time well spent and I have found no better teacher. Coach taught me how to live without fear of any consequences and enabled me to concentrate on the lessons that the pain had for me. How to rise up to any challenge no matter how overwhelming it may seem and persevere through it, regardless of the end result.
It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Ruthless Wrestling Academy. I used to think that life was my adversary, that everyday was an opponent that would either be beaten unmercifully or it would defeat me. I wasn’t wrong either. I trained hard to make every day my own personal bitch.
It wasn’t until then that I learned nothing good comes without dedication, hard work and a enduring a certain amount of pain. I used to deny this reality but it became clear as crystal to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with pushing the pain tolerance threshold, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries come from ego. Not knowing when to stop.
I once spent several weeks lifting weight that my body wasn’t ready for and spent a few days not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you’re not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.
I have never met a truly strong person who didn’t have self-respect. I thought a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passing itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone’s shoulders instead of doing it yourself.
When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and real men like Mr. R.
Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind as well as the heart. Now toughness and grit? That’s a different subject best saved for another day.
(A remote control clicks on Mainstream media propaganda “news” on the flat boob tube big screen. An on air anchor gives an opinion falsely disguised as a fact based narrative and the television is immediately powered off again. Bryan Chase stands up from the black leather recliner, prompting the calico cat to leap of his disappeared lap and trots on its soft paws over to the ceramic saucer of milk.)
-Bryan Chase- These are strange, crazy times we are in and life is capable of driving you out of your mind if one would allow it. Churches, parks, schools and businesses are shut down indefinitely almost everywhere. The constitution has turned into toilet paper for politicians to wipe their ass with as we transform into a “police state” where Pastors have been jailed while rioters are cut loose without consequence. We are now living in clown world my friends as we are officially on year two of the two week lockdown to flatten the curve and the way the world is these days, it’s some kind of miracle if you’re not near the edge of insanity with all of the constant civil unrest, mask mandates, government issued curfews, quarantine hospitals for traveling and broad stroke censorship from the big tech left wing social media monopoly. People are encouraged to stay separated from their families and loved ones like they’re those in-laws that nobody wants to spend time with or see. People stress out constantly, lose sleep, eat poorly and behave badly as a result. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. It takes a mind made of Iron and infinite willpower to endure the mundane bore of a chore that life has seemingly become. Fortunately for me, I have combined meditation, proper diet and pumping Iron into a singular strength through the years. The body is a temple but a strong body, mind and soul is the ultimate trifecta. Time spent away from the rest of society made my mind degenerate. I would wallow in a thick depression and my body shuts down my mind.
The Iron is the best antidepressant that I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it’s impossible to turn back. Pills and booze only masked the problem and hid my inner demons even deeper but the Iron never lies to you. It is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon of light in the night. have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go but the weights will always be there when nobody else is.
(A glance is given to the home gym in the next room over and his smirk grows into a smile.)
-Bryan Chase- Win, lose or DQ.. This upcoming bout with Mr. Great Gaz Mayberry will be a therapeutic release. All the pent up anger, tension, frustration and aggression will come out. I expect the same in return and when the preverbial dust settles and smoke clears, I will offer my handshake in a gesture of respect, regardless of the outcome. So with that said? May the better man win.
(Bryan Chase lifts a red fluid filled wine glass and lifts it in a toasting gesture with a wink and a cheeky grin as his hazel eyes return to the roasting logs inside fireplace, becoming lost in thought.)
-Bryan Chase-
I am not here to disrespect anyone’s troubles or plights. Truth is, I have a thin layer of admiration for my upcoming opponent. There’s a plethora of clichés that can be used that could apply to the situation Gaz Mayberry found himself in such as you can’t teach an old dog news tricks or the classic gem of it’s not the size of the dog in the fight it’s the size of the fight in the dog. Comparisons were made between a guy on the back nine of his career and a grey haired bitch tied up to a tree and left to die however, I’m more of a cat person myself.
Dogs are loyal animals to a fault and serve a purpose in companionship and protection. Their bark is a loud alert that warns their owner to potential danger, much like an alarm system and their bite can be vicious but cats are nature’s healers. Purring releases endorphins in cats, and it can do the same thing in humans, too. Lowered stress hormones are helpful for healing, lowering blood pressure, and helping people cope with illness, too. … The same frequency has been shown to aid in the healing of broken bones, joint and tendon repair, and wound healing. What does a dog do besides slobber and beg for attention? Anyways, I digress.
(The warmth of the soft sleekness is felt under the palm, the soothing therapeutic purr vibrations help to heal infections, swelling, bone healing and growth, pain relief, muscle growth and repair, tendon repair and joint mobility.)
-Bryan Chase- This next little life lesson story might bore some of the viewing audience distracted by ADD but the rest of the bunch just might find this tidbit of information to be insightful on my character and how I became the recovering train wreck sitting before you today.
Many years ago, pre drug and alcohol addiction, When I was a young pup, a scrawny runt of the litter, I had no sense of myself. I was skinny and clumsy. There to be teased, mocked, ridiculed and antagonized at private school. In athletics, I was laughed at and treated like a rich, spoiled, soft brat. At that point in my life it wasn’t untrue. I suppose that’s the unfortunate side affects of being born into a family of Wealth with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was never a good team player because I didn’t want to depend on teammates that treated me like crap off the playing field but I did excel at individual contact sports like wrestling and kickboxing only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other kids thought I was crazy because I seemingly hated myself all the time.. purposefully putting myself in harm’s way and using that punishment received to motivate and fuel the competitive fire within me. Years passed and I learned to keep it all bottled up inside. I only talked to other perceived losers to avoid unnecessary conflict. Some of them are to this day are the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you’ll find a faithful friend forever.
So there I was, going through the motions and letting the supposedly best years of my life slip by.
That’s when Mr. Riker came into my life through the local youth center, better known to his fan base as the Mississippi Mauler. The notoriously Ruthless man with a handshake like a vice grip won the WWX Television championship title at the ripe old age of 60 years of age not once but twice and quickly became a mentor to myself along with many troubled kids in the nearby Southern California community, may his soul rest in peace.
Covid-19 cut his life short. In a lot of ways, Gaz Mayberry has a lot of similar traits. He wasn’t a former rugby star with nagging injuries that cut his career short like Mr. Great but he was an old school, hard nosed, take no crap Vietnam veteran that commanded respect and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn inside his Ruthless Wrestling Academy. Once one kid did and he left in tears after being tortured into submission with basic submission moves.
Mr. R seen potential in me when I didn’t have the confidence to see anything in myself. I looked like just another guy who belonged in the crowd rather than the wrestling ring but I had the passion and desire to make a career out of what I love in Wrestling. Coach said that he was going to, and I quote “toughen me up and make a man outta me.” We would hit the ropes until someone had to vomit and then he would sucker punch me in the solar plexus in the training ring when I wasn’t looking or suspecting it. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere.
A few months passed and every once in a while Mr. R. would give me a blindsided shot dropping me in the ring. The other students didn’t know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar in the gym. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it. The next training session came and from out of nowhere coach appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could go home and look at myself in the mirror now, that I’d finally have respect for the man looking back at me. Prior to that I was instructed not to look at my reflection “until I was ready” so I ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt.
I saw a firm body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. There were washboard abs where a soft jelly belly used to be. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn’t say sh–t to me. I finally had something that I never had before. Confidence.
Learning about what you’re made of is always time well spent and I have found no better teacher. Coach taught me how to live without fear of any consequences and enabled me to concentrate on the lessons that the pain had for me. How to rise up to any challenge no matter how overwhelming it may seem and persevere through it, regardless of the end result.
It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Ruthless Wrestling Academy. I used to think that life was my adversary, that everyday was an opponent that would either be beaten unmercifully or it would defeat me. I wasn’t wrong either. I trained hard to make every day my own personal bitch.
It wasn’t until then that I learned nothing good comes without dedication, hard work and a enduring a certain amount of pain. I used to deny this reality but it became clear as crystal to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with pushing the pain tolerance threshold, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries come from ego. Not knowing when to stop.
I once spent several weeks lifting weight that my body wasn’t ready for and spent a few days not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you’re not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.
I have never met a truly strong person who didn’t have self-respect. I thought a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passing itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone’s shoulders instead of doing it yourself.
When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and real men like Mr. R.
Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind as well as the heart. Now toughness and grit? That’s a different subject best saved for another day.
(A remote control clicks on Mainstream media propaganda “news” on the flat boob tube big screen. An on air anchor gives an opinion falsely disguised as a fact based narrative and the television is immediately powered off again. Bryan Chase stands up from the black leather recliner, prompting the calico cat to leap of his disappeared lap and trots on its soft paws over to the ceramic saucer of milk.)
-Bryan Chase- These are strange, crazy times we are in and life is capable of driving you out of your mind if one would allow it. Churches, parks, schools and businesses are shut down indefinitely almost everywhere. The constitution has turned into toilet paper for politicians to wipe their ass with as we transform into a “police state” where Pastors have been jailed while rioters are cut loose without consequence. We are now living in clown world my friends as we are officially on year two of the two week lockdown to flatten the curve and the way the world is these days, it’s some kind of miracle if you’re not near the edge of insanity with all of the constant civil unrest, mask mandates, government issued curfews, quarantine hospitals for traveling and broad stroke censorship from the big tech left wing social media monopoly. People are encouraged to stay separated from their families and loved ones like they’re those in-laws that nobody wants to spend time with or see. People stress out constantly, lose sleep, eat poorly and behave badly as a result. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. It takes a mind made of Iron and infinite willpower to endure the mundane bore of a chore that life has seemingly become. Fortunately for me, I have combined meditation, proper diet and pumping Iron into a singular strength through the years. The body is a temple but a strong body, mind and soul is the ultimate trifecta. Time spent away from the rest of society made my mind degenerate. I would wallow in a thick depression and my body shuts down my mind.
The Iron is the best antidepressant that I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it’s impossible to turn back. Pills and booze only masked the problem and hid my inner demons even deeper but the Iron never lies to you. It is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon of light in the night. have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go but the weights will always be there when nobody else is.
(A glance is given to the home gym in the next room over and his smirk grows into a smile.)
-Bryan Chase- Win, lose or DQ.. This upcoming bout with Mr. Great Gaz Mayberry will be a therapeutic release. All the pent up anger, tension, frustration and aggression will come out. I expect the same in return and when the preverbial dust settles and smoke clears, I will offer my handshake in a gesture of respect, regardless of the outcome. So with that said? May the better man win.
(Bryan Chase lifts a red fluid filled wine glass and lifts it in a toasting gesture with a wink and a cheeky grin as his hazel eyes return to the roasting logs inside fireplace, becoming lost in thought.)