Change
Jun 5, 2017 18:25:34 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Rage (aka NoMercyMaster2001), and 2 more like this
Post by Robbie A on Jun 5, 2017 18:25:34 GMT -5
I knew that today was not going to go well. I didn’t know at what point, at what minute, but I knew that at some point everything was going to come crashing down spectacularly. You see, last night I made a decision to press the self destruct button, the start over button, the let’s get the fuck out of here button.
“Hey, it’s Rob...listen, first thing Monday morning I want to put my house on the market. I know, I know its the family home...no I haven’t spoken to her about it, but it’s not her decision, it’s mine….Where are we going? I can’t speak for the both of us, but I’m going away for a while, I think that’s for the best”
That was two nights ago. Today is that Monday, today is where everything is going to come out, because a decision like this isn’t something you keep from your wife easily. Don’t get me wrong, everything is in my name, so actually the paperwork would be pretty easy to hide away, but what a burden to place upon my shoulders. She already knows that something isn’t right. I pretty much just stared emptily at her for the past day. My son, the other half of my world, perhaps too young to recognise that his old man was at breaking point, just seemed to mimic me, staring blankly back. I couldn’t even force a smile for him. My own son, my pride, my flesh and blood, I can’t force a smile for him? As I consider that for a second, I can’t help but feel quite disgusted at myself. Oddly though, Sharon seemed to not call me out on it. I can only assume this is because she’s pretty scared, not of me as such, but she could tell from the first syllable out of my mouth that I have been broken.
Broken. Not in mind, not in body, but in soul. Myron Fox has completely ripped everything out of me.
I have never made a promise I can’t keep, in business, in life, in the ring, and I’ve always considered this to be an admirable feature. No, I would call it more than that, it’s high moral fibre. However for the first time I feel like a fraud, even though I delivered. To have somebody essentially throw a match, partially for their own gain, but equally to destroy my reputation in one hit, and to have no response, it’s crippled me.
I came home immediately and slept in the spare room. I didn’t want to disturb either of them as it was the early hours. I think Sharon started to wait up but luckily rational thinking caught up with her. Sunday, Sunday was almost a non event, I spent the morning out on a run, spending the time to strategically stop and observe points of the city that I’ve loved to live in, the city where I grew up and became so much of who I am now, before taking my chance to be The True Innovator. I wanted to ingest it once more before I moved on, because I just knew that this would be the last time I’d see it for a long, long time.
My last stop was the most important to me however. Morbid and cliché perhaps, but I stopped off at the cemetery. Sadly the last few years had been rough for my family, it was part of the reason I had kept away from the ring, because no matter how much fire I still had in me, I had to look after the people who brought me into the world, those that looked after me first. I owed that to them. I think we all owe that to our parents, every single one of us. I approached what we had always joked was the family plot. Three small headstones, two parents and four grandparents. If I’m honest it’s only these six people and blind pride and stupid sense of hometown worth that’s ever kept me here. However what happened just made it seem irrelevant. The people of this small, small city don’t really care about me, they’re not proud of me. You didn’t see “Rob Arnold: Pride of Wells” banners anywhere, not even at the Reunion Show, no fans from here, certainly none that cared enough to show it.
“Hey guys” I look across the three stones, barely a tone in my voice. “I just wanted to say, thanks. I know it’s not the first time, and I hope it’s not the last, but I guess you already knew that.”
Gently, I tap each stone with my right hand in acknowledgement, turn, and walk away. As I do I chuckle to myself, a rare fleeting piece of emotion. The irony of that piece of ceremony given that I’m massively agnostic isn’t lost on me whatsoever. Yet I felt that it was a duty of sorts to do it. This leads my thought process back to where it has been for about twelve hours now. This sense of duty, what is and isn’t right, or “the done thing” as some people say, what does it even mean? We spend so much of our lives defining ourselves, trying to make out that we mean something, or have a cause. I too thought this, I fell into that mentality, that trap. I thought that it was my purpose to put my body on the line, to prove that I was the best damn wrestler that the UK, no, the world had ever seen. I thought then it was my purpose to be a family man, to pass on the principles that my family had, and that perhaps I should fight my battles a bit differently. Yesterday however, I saw things for what they were. Yesterday I realised in just a matter of seconds, that it’s all bullshit.
When somebody can pull these alleged values apart so easily, so simply with an act of their own, it made me realise that this life is about one thing. Yourself. Think about it, there is barely any act you could commit that would be regarded as truly selfless, even those who claim they are being selfless are lying because you’re ultimately portraying yourself as this bullshit saintly figure, and it doesn’t matter when you stop breathing! Who remembers that guy that helped that other guy? Five minute fame if you’re lucky.
I gave so much of my life towards so many principles, so many good principles. Yet what have they been worth but my eventual humiliation? Well that’s fine, I’ve decided simply to move on. To what? I don’t know, but it’ll be whatever the hell I like. Life is selfish, you taught me that Myron.
Despite that though, despite this revelation, I still have to do the decent thing, I also have to decide what the next step is. This brings me back to my empty, soulless feel, because right now there is nothing. The remainder of the day is nothing but a blur, I do my best to avoid all conversation, all interaction. I’m waiting for the confrontation, this silence can’t go on, yet until now it has. Sunday fell away like water from an overfull bath tub, rapid and without warning.
So here we are, Monday, the day when I know it all comes out. I get up and head down to the kitchen, where I pour myself an orange juice. I sit opposite both Sharon and Sam and take a large sip. As I put the glass onto the table I look at Sharon, and I can see a tear in her eye. My head tilts and I attempt to open my mouth, yet as so often in our relationship, my wife opens her mouth first.
“Whatever you’re planning, I’m telling you now, no.” She gasps back a teary breath. “No good can come from whatever your frame of mind is, whatever this frame of mind is. I’ve seen what I thought was the whole Rob Arnold spectrum of emotions, but yesterday was outright scary. You couldn’t even look at your son with a hint of emotion. So whatever comes next, no, I will not support it, I will not stand for it, and you’re not doing it.”
“Actually Sharon, I am. Things, things have to change”
Change. A six letter word, but what it means is so much more than six letters. It means everything.
“Hey, it’s Rob...listen, first thing Monday morning I want to put my house on the market. I know, I know its the family home...no I haven’t spoken to her about it, but it’s not her decision, it’s mine….Where are we going? I can’t speak for the both of us, but I’m going away for a while, I think that’s for the best”
That was two nights ago. Today is that Monday, today is where everything is going to come out, because a decision like this isn’t something you keep from your wife easily. Don’t get me wrong, everything is in my name, so actually the paperwork would be pretty easy to hide away, but what a burden to place upon my shoulders. She already knows that something isn’t right. I pretty much just stared emptily at her for the past day. My son, the other half of my world, perhaps too young to recognise that his old man was at breaking point, just seemed to mimic me, staring blankly back. I couldn’t even force a smile for him. My own son, my pride, my flesh and blood, I can’t force a smile for him? As I consider that for a second, I can’t help but feel quite disgusted at myself. Oddly though, Sharon seemed to not call me out on it. I can only assume this is because she’s pretty scared, not of me as such, but she could tell from the first syllable out of my mouth that I have been broken.
Broken. Not in mind, not in body, but in soul. Myron Fox has completely ripped everything out of me.
I have never made a promise I can’t keep, in business, in life, in the ring, and I’ve always considered this to be an admirable feature. No, I would call it more than that, it’s high moral fibre. However for the first time I feel like a fraud, even though I delivered. To have somebody essentially throw a match, partially for their own gain, but equally to destroy my reputation in one hit, and to have no response, it’s crippled me.
I came home immediately and slept in the spare room. I didn’t want to disturb either of them as it was the early hours. I think Sharon started to wait up but luckily rational thinking caught up with her. Sunday, Sunday was almost a non event, I spent the morning out on a run, spending the time to strategically stop and observe points of the city that I’ve loved to live in, the city where I grew up and became so much of who I am now, before taking my chance to be The True Innovator. I wanted to ingest it once more before I moved on, because I just knew that this would be the last time I’d see it for a long, long time.
My last stop was the most important to me however. Morbid and cliché perhaps, but I stopped off at the cemetery. Sadly the last few years had been rough for my family, it was part of the reason I had kept away from the ring, because no matter how much fire I still had in me, I had to look after the people who brought me into the world, those that looked after me first. I owed that to them. I think we all owe that to our parents, every single one of us. I approached what we had always joked was the family plot. Three small headstones, two parents and four grandparents. If I’m honest it’s only these six people and blind pride and stupid sense of hometown worth that’s ever kept me here. However what happened just made it seem irrelevant. The people of this small, small city don’t really care about me, they’re not proud of me. You didn’t see “Rob Arnold: Pride of Wells” banners anywhere, not even at the Reunion Show, no fans from here, certainly none that cared enough to show it.
“Hey guys” I look across the three stones, barely a tone in my voice. “I just wanted to say, thanks. I know it’s not the first time, and I hope it’s not the last, but I guess you already knew that.”
Gently, I tap each stone with my right hand in acknowledgement, turn, and walk away. As I do I chuckle to myself, a rare fleeting piece of emotion. The irony of that piece of ceremony given that I’m massively agnostic isn’t lost on me whatsoever. Yet I felt that it was a duty of sorts to do it. This leads my thought process back to where it has been for about twelve hours now. This sense of duty, what is and isn’t right, or “the done thing” as some people say, what does it even mean? We spend so much of our lives defining ourselves, trying to make out that we mean something, or have a cause. I too thought this, I fell into that mentality, that trap. I thought that it was my purpose to put my body on the line, to prove that I was the best damn wrestler that the UK, no, the world had ever seen. I thought then it was my purpose to be a family man, to pass on the principles that my family had, and that perhaps I should fight my battles a bit differently. Yesterday however, I saw things for what they were. Yesterday I realised in just a matter of seconds, that it’s all bullshit.
When somebody can pull these alleged values apart so easily, so simply with an act of their own, it made me realise that this life is about one thing. Yourself. Think about it, there is barely any act you could commit that would be regarded as truly selfless, even those who claim they are being selfless are lying because you’re ultimately portraying yourself as this bullshit saintly figure, and it doesn’t matter when you stop breathing! Who remembers that guy that helped that other guy? Five minute fame if you’re lucky.
I gave so much of my life towards so many principles, so many good principles. Yet what have they been worth but my eventual humiliation? Well that’s fine, I’ve decided simply to move on. To what? I don’t know, but it’ll be whatever the hell I like. Life is selfish, you taught me that Myron.
Despite that though, despite this revelation, I still have to do the decent thing, I also have to decide what the next step is. This brings me back to my empty, soulless feel, because right now there is nothing. The remainder of the day is nothing but a blur, I do my best to avoid all conversation, all interaction. I’m waiting for the confrontation, this silence can’t go on, yet until now it has. Sunday fell away like water from an overfull bath tub, rapid and without warning.
So here we are, Monday, the day when I know it all comes out. I get up and head down to the kitchen, where I pour myself an orange juice. I sit opposite both Sharon and Sam and take a large sip. As I put the glass onto the table I look at Sharon, and I can see a tear in her eye. My head tilts and I attempt to open my mouth, yet as so often in our relationship, my wife opens her mouth first.
“Whatever you’re planning, I’m telling you now, no.” She gasps back a teary breath. “No good can come from whatever your frame of mind is, whatever this frame of mind is. I’ve seen what I thought was the whole Rob Arnold spectrum of emotions, but yesterday was outright scary. You couldn’t even look at your son with a hint of emotion. So whatever comes next, no, I will not support it, I will not stand for it, and you’re not doing it.”
“Actually Sharon, I am. Things, things have to change”
Change. A six letter word, but what it means is so much more than six letters. It means everything.
