Post by Daron Smythe on Jun 16, 2023 10:40:56 GMT -5
Yes, the roof still leaks - there's a spot on the floor about 3 feet from the ring that's turning a bright orange, a mixture of rust and last night's downpour. Yes, the air conditioning is spotty at best, especially on a 90 degree day. Yes, it's still that same shithole warehouse in the same shithole neighborhood in McKeesport, Pennsylvania - one of the roughest suburbs of Pittsburgh. Even though I've given so much of my mind, body, and soul to this place, there's still something comfortable about it. It still feels like home. That's why I still make the drive, nearly 90 miles one way - through that beautiful opening at the Fort Pitt tunnel, navigating the never ending construction, reckless drivers, and the worst marked roads you'll ever see - just to get here. Just like I did 24 years ago in mom's 93 Ford Tempo.
I'm drenched in sweat as I've spent the past 10 minutes back and forth - hitting the ropes, stopping in the center, slamming myself down to the mat. To the casual observer, it seems so insane, but like a seamstress develops her callouses, so we wrestlers develop that numbness to landing and trying to protect ourselves every night. Some days, Jimbo will open up and stay with me, going through holds, getting in a good sweat. I shouldn't even call him Jimbo anymore - he's not that 10 year old kid I met a quarter century ago. He hates it when people call him Junior, so I usually stick with Jimmy. No, tonight his daughter had a softball game, so he let me in and scurried off.
Nope. It's just me, the ring, and this old ass sweatbox of a warehouse. At least, that's what I thought.
ANGRY VOICE: DARON! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN' HERE AGAIN?!
The same abruptness. The same gruff. The same clumsiness, knocking about through the concession stand as he throws on the light switch. PWX promoter and former NWA President Jim Miller, in all his glory, decked out in his finest sweatpants and an old Pitt shirt with a mustard stain on the front. Come to think of it, that shirt's probably older than I am.
DARON: You know why I'm here - and I don't bother you, if I make any mess, I clean it up - not that you'd know the difference. How'd you know I was here?!
JIM: I knew when Junior had an "errand" to run before Jessy's softball game that he was coming here. He's never had the best poker face.
DARON: He's a good kid - if you've done something good in the world, it's him. He's a good man. A good husband. A better father.
JIM: Aww hell, I know that. You want a beer?
Before Daron has a chance to answer, Jim kicks the refrigerator door shut and emerges with two IC Lights...
DARON: Thanks, I'm good. I'm leaving soon - heading back to Wheeling to see my mom. I know it's one, but one turns into two, and two turns into me closing down the bar at Nigro's...
JIM: Suit yourself. *Jim cracks open the first one, chugs in, and throws the can off to the side before opening the second can* They tore Nigro's down six months ago - COVID nearly killed the business and the kids didn't have the same passion for it as the old man.
DARON: Damn, that's a shame.
JIM: I can relate - I thought Jimmy would take this place over one day.
DARON: Jimmy's better than all of us, Jim.
JIM: I'll drink to that *takes a swig of beer* I mean hell, I thought you'd take this place over, too.
DARON: That might've been nice.
JIM: Then again *takes another swig* it could've ended up worse...
DARON: Worse than it did? I find that hard to believe.
JIM: Well, you got that *points to UWL World Title belt sticking out of Daron's gym bag* and that fancy set of wheels parked out front. I was right about you, I just went the wrong way about showing it.
DARON: For years, you've been that voice in my head, telling me I wasn't good enough. That voice, both in my head and in real life, drove me out of the business. I swore I'd never let that happen again. When I go out, this time, it's going to be on my terms.
JIM: Listen kid, the real reason I came down here, the real reason I just slammed those two brews real quick - I'm here to tell you, I'm sorry. Those words don't come easy for me but I know that I was wrong - wrong for having Rochelle lie to you, wrong for treating you the way I did, wrong for not just being straight up with you. You lost some years in this business you'll never get back. I damn near lost everything here. All of that's my fault. I live with it every day.
DARON: I-I don't know what to say...
JIM: You don't have to say anything, kid. I was the one who did you wrong. I know that now. And here, so you don't have to bother Jimmy anymore *Jim reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, then tosses it to Daron - Daron takes a long, hard look at the key, thinking about everything it represets*
DARON: Thanks Jim, I...
Daron looks up, but Jim is long gone. Once again, Daron is alone, but at least now he knows, he is once again welcome...
I'm drenched in sweat as I've spent the past 10 minutes back and forth - hitting the ropes, stopping in the center, slamming myself down to the mat. To the casual observer, it seems so insane, but like a seamstress develops her callouses, so we wrestlers develop that numbness to landing and trying to protect ourselves every night. Some days, Jimbo will open up and stay with me, going through holds, getting in a good sweat. I shouldn't even call him Jimbo anymore - he's not that 10 year old kid I met a quarter century ago. He hates it when people call him Junior, so I usually stick with Jimmy. No, tonight his daughter had a softball game, so he let me in and scurried off.
Nope. It's just me, the ring, and this old ass sweatbox of a warehouse. At least, that's what I thought.
ANGRY VOICE: DARON! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN' HERE AGAIN?!
The same abruptness. The same gruff. The same clumsiness, knocking about through the concession stand as he throws on the light switch. PWX promoter and former NWA President Jim Miller, in all his glory, decked out in his finest sweatpants and an old Pitt shirt with a mustard stain on the front. Come to think of it, that shirt's probably older than I am.
DARON: You know why I'm here - and I don't bother you, if I make any mess, I clean it up - not that you'd know the difference. How'd you know I was here?!
JIM: I knew when Junior had an "errand" to run before Jessy's softball game that he was coming here. He's never had the best poker face.
DARON: He's a good kid - if you've done something good in the world, it's him. He's a good man. A good husband. A better father.
JIM: Aww hell, I know that. You want a beer?
Before Daron has a chance to answer, Jim kicks the refrigerator door shut and emerges with two IC Lights...
DARON: Thanks, I'm good. I'm leaving soon - heading back to Wheeling to see my mom. I know it's one, but one turns into two, and two turns into me closing down the bar at Nigro's...
JIM: Suit yourself. *Jim cracks open the first one, chugs in, and throws the can off to the side before opening the second can* They tore Nigro's down six months ago - COVID nearly killed the business and the kids didn't have the same passion for it as the old man.
DARON: Damn, that's a shame.
JIM: I can relate - I thought Jimmy would take this place over one day.
DARON: Jimmy's better than all of us, Jim.
JIM: I'll drink to that *takes a swig of beer* I mean hell, I thought you'd take this place over, too.
DARON: That might've been nice.
JIM: Then again *takes another swig* it could've ended up worse...
DARON: Worse than it did? I find that hard to believe.
JIM: Well, you got that *points to UWL World Title belt sticking out of Daron's gym bag* and that fancy set of wheels parked out front. I was right about you, I just went the wrong way about showing it.
DARON: For years, you've been that voice in my head, telling me I wasn't good enough. That voice, both in my head and in real life, drove me out of the business. I swore I'd never let that happen again. When I go out, this time, it's going to be on my terms.
JIM: Listen kid, the real reason I came down here, the real reason I just slammed those two brews real quick - I'm here to tell you, I'm sorry. Those words don't come easy for me but I know that I was wrong - wrong for having Rochelle lie to you, wrong for treating you the way I did, wrong for not just being straight up with you. You lost some years in this business you'll never get back. I damn near lost everything here. All of that's my fault. I live with it every day.
DARON: I-I don't know what to say...
JIM: You don't have to say anything, kid. I was the one who did you wrong. I know that now. And here, so you don't have to bother Jimmy anymore *Jim reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, then tosses it to Daron - Daron takes a long, hard look at the key, thinking about everything it represets*
DARON: Thanks Jim, I...
Daron looks up, but Jim is long gone. Once again, Daron is alone, but at least now he knows, he is once again welcome...