Post by Jay Stevens on Dec 4, 2022 16:25:41 GMT -5
Long Beach, California, site of the TDU training facility.
Many come through those doors to experience the revolutionary high level training camps offered by varied coaches and training partners.
The nature of professional wrestling has changed and with it, the schedule. On one hand, the industry changed to showcase those who exemplify short attention span, social media whores with less athleticism than your average pre-peewee tot.
On the other hand, a reduced schedule has allowed those who still compete at the highest level to hone their craft through extended training camps with fewer injuries to work through.
Jay Stevens and Nicole Anderson call the TDU home. To stay sharp for their own ventures they help train others. Iron sharpens iron, after all.
Teaching is something Jay never had any interest in, but he has begun to see it as a necessity. If not him, who will teach the next generation to respect the sport and not just be a meme?
The music in the gym may be deafening but Jay’s voice still cuts through as he yells instructions from beside one of the three rings. A loud buzzer goes off and Jay yells "Time!" which brings the session to a stop and allows the students to get some hydration.
From his peripheral, he spots the flailing arms of "Kid Dynamite" waving at him from the office doorway. Jay heads toward his partner-in-crime and receives a Gatorade flung to him as he approaches.
Stevens: What’s up? You look like you’re having a seizure.
Anderson: Yo, Gus just sent us travel deets for Edinburgh. We fly out Wednesday and you guys have a couple days of promo ahead of the show.
Stevens: Great.
He enters the office and takes his seat at the single large desk. Anderson follows in behind and sits across from him.
Anderson: What’s the matter, grumpy gills?
Stevens: Nothing. Just not vibing on this trip or match.
Anderson: Ha, why not? Free hotel, free food, easy pickings, what’s not to love?
Stevens: It’s not that. The Fairtex boys are actually pretty good and I’m not just going to sit around and disrespect them. If anything, they’re the closest thing this place has to real competitors. Two guys who just go out there and fight. No garbage, no horseshit games trying to distract their opponents.
Anderson: Sure, they are just fighters but that doesn’t mean they’re good.
Stevens: Oh, don’t get me wrong, Leon and I are going to smoke them. There are levels to this and they’re nowhere near ours. But at least we just get to roll in there, fight and move on.
Anderson: Not enough, is it?
Jay nods.
Stevens: It really isn’t. There’s no skin in it. Van Zandt and I are just biding our time until our title shot, Osland is doing his stuff and that’s it. There’s no heat on these people to change.
Anderson: So let’s put them to the flames? What are you waiting for?
He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair.
Stevens: Dusty.
Dusty Griffith, the iconic figure that arrived to Wrestle: U.K. with Jay, Osland, and the crew. A comrade and mentor to Stevens, Griffith has been missing from action since Gus Arnold made his plan known to the public. Speculation has run rampant in the wrestling world regarding his whereabouts but he is still very much in the air surrounding the movement.
Stevens: We’re waiting for all of that bullshit to get resolved and I can’t help but feel that without Dusty, they’re not afraid of us. They all think he’s the one that makes us dangerous.
Anderson: So prove them wrong? Are you waiting for Gus to call the shot? Let’s burn this fucker down. The Bastards aren’t afraid because we haven’t given them any reason to be.
Stevens: We obliterated Donzig and his whole crew.
Anderson: I stand by what I said.
She grins widely. Jay smirks and sighs.
Stevens: I’m just getting impatient.
Anderson: Change is never easy. Subjugation takes time.
Stevens: One step at a time?
Anderson: Right up until you can run.
She enthusiastically throws a fist up and awaits a fist bump. When he finally obliges she squeals in excitement and follows by mimicking an explosion sound.
Stevens: Back to work.
Stevens exits the office and returns to training in the gym. Nicole lifts her phone and begins to compose a text message, whispering the words aloud as she types.
“Gus, hit me up. Less talky, more hurty. Ideas? Kisses, KDNA..”
=/=
Several hours later, Jay Stevens finds himself alone in the gym. Pacing the ring, he shuffles through ring awareness drills and visualizes his movements and opponent reactions. He stops at the center and looks upward toward the single spotlight illuminating the ring.
“Phantam and Tong Fairtex.
I will give you everything you have earned. The courtesy, the appreciation, the respect.
I give you nothing.
I only give you the opportunity. This is your opportunity to show me something. Anything. Anything that will make me see you as something other than ‘the other team’ that champions build their reigns by defeating.
I am most certain that we will meet again and again and again… but you will still be that team, only it will be Leon Van Zandt and myself carrying the gold in and out of those encounters.
Unless you show me something. Anything.
I need you to be more than just a step along the way. I need you to mean something because if you don’t, beating you means nothing.
And so far, that’s all it has meant for everyone you share the ring with.
Nothing.
Show me.
Earn your right to share the ring with Van Zandt and me.
Give me something or we’ll just have to take everything you have left.
And I need it to be more than nothing.”
He returns to his drills as we fade away.
Many come through those doors to experience the revolutionary high level training camps offered by varied coaches and training partners.
The nature of professional wrestling has changed and with it, the schedule. On one hand, the industry changed to showcase those who exemplify short attention span, social media whores with less athleticism than your average pre-peewee tot.
On the other hand, a reduced schedule has allowed those who still compete at the highest level to hone their craft through extended training camps with fewer injuries to work through.
Jay Stevens and Nicole Anderson call the TDU home. To stay sharp for their own ventures they help train others. Iron sharpens iron, after all.
Teaching is something Jay never had any interest in, but he has begun to see it as a necessity. If not him, who will teach the next generation to respect the sport and not just be a meme?
The music in the gym may be deafening but Jay’s voice still cuts through as he yells instructions from beside one of the three rings. A loud buzzer goes off and Jay yells "Time!" which brings the session to a stop and allows the students to get some hydration.
From his peripheral, he spots the flailing arms of "Kid Dynamite" waving at him from the office doorway. Jay heads toward his partner-in-crime and receives a Gatorade flung to him as he approaches.
Stevens: What’s up? You look like you’re having a seizure.
Anderson: Yo, Gus just sent us travel deets for Edinburgh. We fly out Wednesday and you guys have a couple days of promo ahead of the show.
Stevens: Great.
He enters the office and takes his seat at the single large desk. Anderson follows in behind and sits across from him.
Anderson: What’s the matter, grumpy gills?
Stevens: Nothing. Just not vibing on this trip or match.
Anderson: Ha, why not? Free hotel, free food, easy pickings, what’s not to love?
Stevens: It’s not that. The Fairtex boys are actually pretty good and I’m not just going to sit around and disrespect them. If anything, they’re the closest thing this place has to real competitors. Two guys who just go out there and fight. No garbage, no horseshit games trying to distract their opponents.
Anderson: Sure, they are just fighters but that doesn’t mean they’re good.
Stevens: Oh, don’t get me wrong, Leon and I are going to smoke them. There are levels to this and they’re nowhere near ours. But at least we just get to roll in there, fight and move on.
Anderson: Not enough, is it?
Jay nods.
Stevens: It really isn’t. There’s no skin in it. Van Zandt and I are just biding our time until our title shot, Osland is doing his stuff and that’s it. There’s no heat on these people to change.
Anderson: So let’s put them to the flames? What are you waiting for?
He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair.
Stevens: Dusty.
Dusty Griffith, the iconic figure that arrived to Wrestle: U.K. with Jay, Osland, and the crew. A comrade and mentor to Stevens, Griffith has been missing from action since Gus Arnold made his plan known to the public. Speculation has run rampant in the wrestling world regarding his whereabouts but he is still very much in the air surrounding the movement.
Stevens: We’re waiting for all of that bullshit to get resolved and I can’t help but feel that without Dusty, they’re not afraid of us. They all think he’s the one that makes us dangerous.
Anderson: So prove them wrong? Are you waiting for Gus to call the shot? Let’s burn this fucker down. The Bastards aren’t afraid because we haven’t given them any reason to be.
Stevens: We obliterated Donzig and his whole crew.
Anderson: I stand by what I said.
She grins widely. Jay smirks and sighs.
Stevens: I’m just getting impatient.
Anderson: Change is never easy. Subjugation takes time.
Stevens: One step at a time?
Anderson: Right up until you can run.
She enthusiastically throws a fist up and awaits a fist bump. When he finally obliges she squeals in excitement and follows by mimicking an explosion sound.
Stevens: Back to work.
Stevens exits the office and returns to training in the gym. Nicole lifts her phone and begins to compose a text message, whispering the words aloud as she types.
“Gus, hit me up. Less talky, more hurty. Ideas? Kisses, KDNA..”
=/=
Several hours later, Jay Stevens finds himself alone in the gym. Pacing the ring, he shuffles through ring awareness drills and visualizes his movements and opponent reactions. He stops at the center and looks upward toward the single spotlight illuminating the ring.
“Phantam and Tong Fairtex.
I will give you everything you have earned. The courtesy, the appreciation, the respect.
I give you nothing.
I only give you the opportunity. This is your opportunity to show me something. Anything. Anything that will make me see you as something other than ‘the other team’ that champions build their reigns by defeating.
I am most certain that we will meet again and again and again… but you will still be that team, only it will be Leon Van Zandt and myself carrying the gold in and out of those encounters.
Unless you show me something. Anything.
I need you to be more than just a step along the way. I need you to mean something because if you don’t, beating you means nothing.
And so far, that’s all it has meant for everyone you share the ring with.
Nothing.
Show me.
Earn your right to share the ring with Van Zandt and me.
Give me something or we’ll just have to take everything you have left.
And I need it to be more than nothing.”
He returns to his drills as we fade away.