Post by Old Line Jeff on Apr 2, 2023 5:14:36 GMT -5
Way before Ronnie Long bought his piece of land in northern Georgia, it had been a cow farm. One of the things that they’d fallen in love with on seeing the property was the huge white barn. The barn was a genuine antique, built back in the days when people still made nice things. He and Deanna had spent the first couple years of their marriage learning carpentry and putting the inside of the barn back together.
However, a peach orchard doesn’t require anything near the amount of barn space that a cattle farm does. They used the stalls for sorting and storing mulch, fertilizer and plant food, and the floor of the barn for tractor space - but there was still a lot of empty space. And that’s why, in the back of the barn, Ronnie had had an entire pro wrestling ring installed.
That’s where they were now. Ronnie Long and Daeriq Damien, sitting outside the ring on folding chairs, watching Deanna and Heidi Christenson in it.
Heidi had had her own reasons for putting so much focus on her mat grappling. Ronnie had rarely even worked on his mat grappling, and as he always reminded himself, you didn’t need to be able to chain holds together when you could knock someone cold with one swing of your arm. And he hadn’t started using the lariat that time in 2001 when Heidi tapped him out, he’d still been using the high jump guillotine legdrop. Sometimes he told himself that the lariat would’ve made a difference, and he might actually have been right.
It was one thing, though, to watch Heidi go to work. It was something entirely different to watch Deanna keep up with her.
The women were doing llave stuff, the kind of holds where the attacker twists the defender’s arm for leverage and uses that to roll them into position for a different hold. Deanna was working defense, and slipping almost everything Heidi tried to get her in.
Ronnie rubbed his forehead, entirely uncertain about what sort of feels he should be feeling watching his sweet wife fight. He respected any woman who had both the desire and skill to learn to fight, but he’d never had a ‘thing’ for it like Jeff Andrews had. But… he shook his head to clear it, not at all liking where this train of thought was running.
“You alright?”
He looked at Daeriq Damien, who was sitting with his knees apart, watching the ladies spar with a clearly feigned casualness.
“I am. How about you?”
“Since we’re trying this honesty thing, no, I absolutely am not. I’ve got a busted wing. Deanna can suddenly fight. I’ve picked on her often enough over the years, and now she can suddenly turn the tables on me? Walk with me Ronnie, I want to clear my head and change the freakin subject.”
“I am surprisingly okay with that.”
The two men stood and walked out into the Georgia springtime.
“This is, honestly, the easiest time of year for me to actually want to quit. Thing is, the peach blossoms only last for a couple weeks and then I start missing the paycheck.”
“Right? But I’m glad you brought up wrestling on your own, because there’s something I’m wondering. Do you have a grudge against Eddie Havok?”
Ronnie sighed. “I mean… he’s as much of a jackass as anyone in the business, but he’s really mostly been Billy Fowler’s problem? And Fowler isn’t much better? I didn’t even remember that we’d fought until he started bragging about how he beat me that one time. And to be honest, I had to rewatch the match because I seriously didn’t remember it. But that was when the CWA had fallen apart, and all the big players threw up their hands and bailed at the same time. It was a mess, and I was checked out big time. He hasn’t crossed my path since then.”
Daeriq didn’t say anything. Ronnie shook his head.
“I guess that’s a self-dunk though, since he’s been World Champion a couple times and I’ve been involved with Rob Riot and trying to win the Commonwealth. But you know what I said about wanting to stick around long enough for this run to matter and not pull an Eric Dane the second a single card in the deck doesn’t fall my way? That includes trying to win the Commonwealth Title - because I want that belt to mean something too. There used to be legendary Intercontinental and United States champions too.”
“Mm-hm.” Daeriq said it smugly. “Now you hadn’t let me manage you yet back when you lost to Havok the first time, so I may be wrong here. But let me see if I understand the situation between you and Eddie Havok.”
Daeriq cleared his throat, smiling.
And didn’t say anything.
“Well?”
“You first met Eddie Havok at a difficult point in your career. He took advantage of that by using you as a stepping stone to the top of the card in W:UK, a spot he’s held onto relentlessly ever since. While you’ve had your momentum cut off at key moments through no fault of your own, he’s won and lost and failed to win again the World Title. At one point he had his very own biker cult to back him up while you had a couple rednecks. Yet despite his, shall we say, charmed W:UK career, he still hates you enough to have a grudge against you. And you don’t seem to have a problem with any of that.”
Ronnie cracked his knuckles thoughtfully and looked at the tulips Deanna had planted along the sidewalk up to their house. He pictured the flowerbeds torn up by motorcycle tracks.
“You know what, Daeriq? I think maybe I do have a grudge against Eddie Havok.”
However, a peach orchard doesn’t require anything near the amount of barn space that a cattle farm does. They used the stalls for sorting and storing mulch, fertilizer and plant food, and the floor of the barn for tractor space - but there was still a lot of empty space. And that’s why, in the back of the barn, Ronnie had had an entire pro wrestling ring installed.
That’s where they were now. Ronnie Long and Daeriq Damien, sitting outside the ring on folding chairs, watching Deanna and Heidi Christenson in it.
Heidi had had her own reasons for putting so much focus on her mat grappling. Ronnie had rarely even worked on his mat grappling, and as he always reminded himself, you didn’t need to be able to chain holds together when you could knock someone cold with one swing of your arm. And he hadn’t started using the lariat that time in 2001 when Heidi tapped him out, he’d still been using the high jump guillotine legdrop. Sometimes he told himself that the lariat would’ve made a difference, and he might actually have been right.
It was one thing, though, to watch Heidi go to work. It was something entirely different to watch Deanna keep up with her.
The women were doing llave stuff, the kind of holds where the attacker twists the defender’s arm for leverage and uses that to roll them into position for a different hold. Deanna was working defense, and slipping almost everything Heidi tried to get her in.
Ronnie rubbed his forehead, entirely uncertain about what sort of feels he should be feeling watching his sweet wife fight. He respected any woman who had both the desire and skill to learn to fight, but he’d never had a ‘thing’ for it like Jeff Andrews had. But… he shook his head to clear it, not at all liking where this train of thought was running.
“You alright?”
He looked at Daeriq Damien, who was sitting with his knees apart, watching the ladies spar with a clearly feigned casualness.
“I am. How about you?”
“Since we’re trying this honesty thing, no, I absolutely am not. I’ve got a busted wing. Deanna can suddenly fight. I’ve picked on her often enough over the years, and now she can suddenly turn the tables on me? Walk with me Ronnie, I want to clear my head and change the freakin subject.”
“I am surprisingly okay with that.”
The two men stood and walked out into the Georgia springtime.
“This is, honestly, the easiest time of year for me to actually want to quit. Thing is, the peach blossoms only last for a couple weeks and then I start missing the paycheck.”
“Right? But I’m glad you brought up wrestling on your own, because there’s something I’m wondering. Do you have a grudge against Eddie Havok?”
Ronnie sighed. “I mean… he’s as much of a jackass as anyone in the business, but he’s really mostly been Billy Fowler’s problem? And Fowler isn’t much better? I didn’t even remember that we’d fought until he started bragging about how he beat me that one time. And to be honest, I had to rewatch the match because I seriously didn’t remember it. But that was when the CWA had fallen apart, and all the big players threw up their hands and bailed at the same time. It was a mess, and I was checked out big time. He hasn’t crossed my path since then.”
Daeriq didn’t say anything. Ronnie shook his head.
“I guess that’s a self-dunk though, since he’s been World Champion a couple times and I’ve been involved with Rob Riot and trying to win the Commonwealth. But you know what I said about wanting to stick around long enough for this run to matter and not pull an Eric Dane the second a single card in the deck doesn’t fall my way? That includes trying to win the Commonwealth Title - because I want that belt to mean something too. There used to be legendary Intercontinental and United States champions too.”
“Mm-hm.” Daeriq said it smugly. “Now you hadn’t let me manage you yet back when you lost to Havok the first time, so I may be wrong here. But let me see if I understand the situation between you and Eddie Havok.”
Daeriq cleared his throat, smiling.
And didn’t say anything.
“Well?”
“You first met Eddie Havok at a difficult point in your career. He took advantage of that by using you as a stepping stone to the top of the card in W:UK, a spot he’s held onto relentlessly ever since. While you’ve had your momentum cut off at key moments through no fault of your own, he’s won and lost and failed to win again the World Title. At one point he had his very own biker cult to back him up while you had a couple rednecks. Yet despite his, shall we say, charmed W:UK career, he still hates you enough to have a grudge against you. And you don’t seem to have a problem with any of that.”
Ronnie cracked his knuckles thoughtfully and looked at the tulips Deanna had planted along the sidewalk up to their house. He pictured the flowerbeds torn up by motorcycle tracks.
“You know what, Daeriq? I think maybe I do have a grudge against Eddie Havok.”