Part 0.5 - Loss.
“You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair."
-- Old Chinese Proverb
Have you ever lost someone, before?
I think that’s probably a dumb question.Who am I kidding, of course you have?
Loss is a common human experience.
Loss is what happens when a young child drops their favourite bear in the street, or in the park. Since the child is too young to communicate effectively…no matter how hard their parent may try…no matter how a kind soul might have rested the bear in some prominent position…it becomes like looking for a needle in a haystack…and the little boy or girl’s best friend in the whole wide world is gone forever.
Yet…let’s rewind to the first part. When a young child DROPS their favourite bear.
One second, they’re holding on and the next they just…stop.
Let me tell you something…when I treasure something? I never let it go. I still have my favourite toy from when I was a child, a labrador puppy named Andrex (yes…like the toilet paper…my parents cut out the coupons from the packets and sent off for him) and trust me I would squeeze that thing so hard I’m surprised the stuffing wouldn’t come out for the FEAR of what would happen if I ever let him go, if I had to go on without him.
Now…Andrex isn’t real. Andrex is an inanimate object, and truth is I could probably get another one on eBay if I wanted…but so often it’s inanimate objects that carry such a heavy weight. We create this importance around them…
…a balloon, floating off into the sky, never to be seen again. Your first car, scrapped after a collision with a tree. Your son or daughter’s first baby blanket. Your number one guitar. A wrestling match. A World Heavyweight title…things that aren’t worth much in themselves, but the memories, and the importance we place on those objects? That’s where the difference comes from.
Loss can lead to feeling overwhelmed, depressed, anxious, lonely, fearful, guilty and angry. Whatever your experience, the grief is real and the loss is important.
The grieving is a process, too. Sometimes, an anniversary rolls around…or a song comes on the radio that triggers a memory. Sometimes the grief can wash over you weeks, months, years later, completely unprovoked. It has to be managed. It has to be coped with somehow. It can be destructive, but it can also be healthy. It can make you stronger. It can help you cope better.
I’m going to share with you a story of loss in the next part. It’s not a new story, but it is fresh, and it is topical. In fact, it’s going on right now. The ending is yet to be written, and I feel it’s important you see this now because it may lead onto something in the future.
You may get to see how it plays out, right here.
You may get to see me feeling overwhelmed, depressed, and anxious. We’ll see.
I think one thing I need to clarify, given where I’m headed back to in just a few weeks time…is I’m not trying to ‘chase’ a loss. I’m sure that’ll be where a few thoughts lead when the former World Heavyweight champion rolls back around. I don’t feel like I have unfinished business in that field. After all, I achieved far more in that moment than I ever thought I would.
My opponent…Mac Bane…well he and I share similar employment again. The new company has an interview segment…and I learned something new about Mac.
He considers his victory against me as his single greatest achievement. That’s one heck of a crowning glory on such a storied, decorated career…don’t you think?
From that moment on? I felt better.
I’d done my job.
Now…a lot of things in life are finite. Careers, especially in a combat sport, something so high-impact, an environment where if you can’t hang anymore, you’re putting yourself at serious risk of being hurt? Those can be over in a blink of an eye. Friendships come and go. Relationships, just as common. Wins and losses…well…you can get right back in the ring the next night if you want, so those things don’t have to live long in the memory. Even our lives themselves? We might get seventy, eighty years…if we’re lucky?
I want to achieve, sure…things like title wins, Blast from the Past victories…Hall of Fame inductions…those things last. They get written into the history books and at that point? They stay relevant as long as the company remains in business at the very least…but sometimes I want to think about how I can make an impact, too.
I want to elevate, too.
I want to raise the bar.
I want to be the fucking yardstick.
The reason that someone whose career would make most wrestlers green with envy values a win against me, above all else.
That’s impact.
That is when loss is acceptable.
We all have to experience loss. Once in a while.
These days, it’s rare for me to experience them, of course. That’s in wrestling, where I’ve earned a reputation as being a dominant, but sometimes overlooked force, and in life. A life where I get to do something I love every day, wake up next to someone I love every day, in a house I’ve loved from day one, in a city that captured my heart the second I stepped foot in it, in a financial situation where I, and probably several more generations of the Cross family yet can live in comfort, unless we do something stupid.
Most everything I want to keep in my life stays in it.
That makes those few losses harder, makes them more bitter pills to swallow.
Makes my urge to get them back ever stronger, like a hyper-fixation.
The kind that makes me travel halfway across the country on a whim, with a half-baked plan.
One thing’s for damn sure. I don’t do things by halves.
Part 1 - Maroon.
And I chose you
The one I was dancin' with
In New York, no shoes
Looked up at the sky and it was
The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me
And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was-
“FUCKKKKKK!”
Isn’t it ironic that Taylor Swift, of all people…my celebrity crush since hearing Fearless for the first time in 2008…became the reason I was slamming my hand against the stereo system, purely in my haste to shut it off?
Maroon was my favourite song on the new album, until the lyrics brought *that* memory flooding back. It took a while to sink in, but when it did? Well…it hit me like a freight train.
I danced with a barefooted girl in New York once…on a roof terrace, of a bar, on Pier 17. My arms wrapped around her, her face buried in my chest, flowing chestnut curls covering up the stains on my shirt, the result of both of us having a little too much to drink, I’m not sure who spilled what. We didn’t care who was watching us, if they even were…as in that moment there was just her, and I, and nothing else.
Joanie.
I’m sure we all have our fair share of first date stories, right?
After all, whether you like it or not, dating boils down to little more than a numbers game. That’s if you’re doing it properly. Not too selective, not too judgemental…just putting yourself out there, seeing what comes. That’s always been my style. The fact of it is…most first dates aren’t memorable, for one reason or another. Maybe there just isn’t a spark…or someone, usually the guy, is only in it for one thing. They may succeed, they may not, but when that little box is checked, one way or another? They’ve drawn a line under it and moved on, it doesn’t go further. Overall, the success rate? Usually not that high.
In truth, I don’t remember a lot about my first dates. That may sound almost cold but really? I’m sure my female companions felt much the same about me. I’m sure one or two happened to see me on TV or something in later life, wondering how different things could have been, but even then I don’t expect many saw us not getting together as a big loss. You just have to keep rolling those dice, shake off the disappointments right there on the spot, and move on to the next one.
Some, of course, stuck in the memory. Those woeful stories, nights that were memorable for all of the wrong reasons of course, but these were the positives. The romances you’d tell your kids about, even if they weren’t all happy memories. The ones that got away, the girlfriends, the wifes, the fiancees. The ones you built stories with…built lives with…
Except…One, in particular, which keeps coming back to haunt me.
Especially now she’s gone.
When I met Joanie? The timing was all wrong. I was a few short weeks out of a broken engagement, finding myself in the place that started it all. New York City. It’s where I was in town to wrestle a show, where I’d met Amber, and where our relationship had first blossomed into nearly three years together. She was going to be my ‘one’...the girl I asked to take my last name. For the first six months I’d take every show I could around New York to spend time with her, that was until she moved with me to Florida. If I weren’t such a stickler for maintaining prior obligations? I wouldn’t have even been near this place again, too many memories, and JJ…well she was on the run from her husband so, safe to say neither one of us was ready to be starting something new. Yet…we had a mutual friend, who insisted. Literally booked a table at one of the most exclusive restaurants in town, knowing I could afford to foot the bill, and gave us both a few hours of notice to get there. Thanks Tony.
We ate dessert before main…and then skipped the main altogether. We opened up about why neither one of us should have been on a date that night…and we laughed. We drank until we could barely stand, and we laughed some more. We danced what was left of that whole night away, and while we would probably never be each other’s person?
I thought I’d made a friend for life.
That was until after a while, the replies stopped coming. Her phone, disconnected. Her apartment, emptied. Her best friend Tony, the reason we’d gone on that date in the first place? Was none-the-wiser. No forwarding address, no alternative phone number, nothing. It could have been an elaborate ruse of course, but the look of concern on Antonia’s face suggested she really wasn’t fucking with me on this one. That girl was a lot of things…but a liar wasn’t one of them.
I cursed myself for thinking of her. Those dark curls swaying against a spangly black dress as we walked back to the rental car neither one of us was in a fit state to be driving. The sounds of my whooping and hollering to go faster as she nearly totaled a six-figure rental car maybe thirty times over. I relive that night more times than I care to admit, and I hate that I was wasting even a second’s thought on her…on ANYONE who clearly didn’t value my place in their life enough to stay in touch. I wish that she hadn’t…fixed me…
…It would be that much easier, if only I didn’t owe her so much…
Joanie pulled me out of the darkness. In one single night, I saw myself again. The multi-time World champion…The distinctly average actor, working hard to become an above-average one…the guy with a million stories to tell…the guy who wants to write a million more…a man who loves hard and fights for the ones he loves even harder…a born winner, a serial over-achiever…
She helped me realise I could win again. Be great again. Find happiness again.
I guess I needed to know she found happiness too.
Whether she wanted me there, or not.
Tony gave me the one thing she knew. A name. She nodded and pointed and said “Yep that’s the guy” and that was all I needed.
Chester Hamilton. Chief Financial Officer. Bigshot looking guy, three-piece tailored suit on the “Our People” page. Salt and pepper stubble and cold, dark eyes. He looked like the calculating type and that fit the bill. I remember what she told me, although it wasn’t much, we tended to want to stick to happier topics but her words stuck in my mind and it painted such a picture. So controlling, so…narcissistic.
I saw shades of myself in myself. A younger me. A more selfish me. The Mark who didn't care about the cost to human life as long as HE was okay. The guy who didn’t give a damn who he fucked over if it suited HIS narrative. I hated that part of myself and I swallow it down so hard when it threatens to come back again. I remember how dangerous, how damaging…
Fuck…
She went back to THAT? By choice?
I don't think so.
"Hey Google, give me directions to the airport…"
I had to get her out of there. Now.
TBC…
Part 2 - Milo
I can't help but feel like the return to Sin City Wrestling? It’s a bit like going back for a one night stand with that ex that you're still on pretty good times with. You know it’s never going to be long term, been there, tried that, but it’s a situation where you both know what you like, know what buttons to press, and whatever happens it’s going to be a fun process. Much like before I doubt this will be permanent. I doubt it’ll go much past this one appearance, at least for now…but I’m back in familiar territory. It feels comfortable, and it feels right to do this again.
Now of course this hasn't come about completely by accident. Not long ago, I signed up with the WGWF. Coming to work at the CCPE Arena means I’ve spent more time in Vegas again, something I’d never really felt the need or the urge to do in my time away from SCW. I have to admit the energy of this place, it’s tough to beat. Caught up with some old friends, visited some of my favourite places on the strip and you know what? Have to admit I’ve missed it. Now…I’ve never wanted to live here. Even when COVID restrictions meant we’d be working permanently out of Vegas, I was much happier commuting in. It’s not that kind of energy for me, doesn’t feel ‘homely’ in the slightest, even if it is familiar…but for an adrenaline-fuelled weekend of work? Perfection. Pure perfection.
Now…I just so happened to be in town, an opportunity opened up and you know what? I love California. I spent a lot of time in Cali, in my time in the NFL the Raiders were still in Oakland, I couldn’t walk down the street without being recognised…and honestly? It kind of feels like Florida with more of a West-coast vibe…so again it was a prime opportunity for me to go and check out some old favourite places…see how much has changed.
To me? It was a chance to travel that I was actually excited about, signing up for Inception…and for Sin City Wrestling? I was a known quantity. I show up, I put in quality work, I conduct myself in a professional manner…and I usually leave with my hand held high in victory. I’m a safe bet.
Now…I did just mention how often things change over time…but just because I am not around all that often doesn't mean that anything has changed with me.
Whether I work one event per year or one hundred, the preparation stays the same.
The intensity stays the same.
Winning on a consistent basis? That stays the same too.
Now I mentioned the WGWF and if you want? You can go and ask Chronic Chris Page about how that’s shaking out so far. After all, he and James Raven assembled one of the single greatest rosters for a ‘start-up’ promotion…a phoenix from the ashes promotion if you will…for me to take second place in the West Coast Rumble…become number one contender for the World title at the very next Supercard…very quickly positioning myself as one of THE forces to be reckoned with…sound familiar, Sin City Wrestling fans?
Now that’s going to keep my dance card pretty full. There’s no reason for the current SCW guys to fear. You remember my part about loss? You don’t have to clutch them to your chest like your Mom’s about to take away your Playstation…
But that doesn't mean that I couldn't.
The biggest thing about me…I guess what makes me as exciting for the fans as it is a threat to the guys backstage is that you can't count me out of anything. You put me in there, with any number of competitors, any kind of ability level, and at no point can you count me out. As much as they want to try.
Even the copywriters. Not the first time a match description has raised an eyebrow or two and this time it’s my turn, huh? Will I lose out to a younger opponent with my ring rust situation? What ring rust is that exactly? I haven’t stopped training. I haven’t stopped working. I’ve been in the city…working shows elsewhere…poking my head in where I can to see old faces. I didn’t take time out of the ring. I didn’t stop training every day. Just because I took my leave away from Sin City Wrestling, it didn’t mean I sat in Florida crying myself to sleep. The world still spins outside of these walls.
Doesn't mean I don't miss the place, the people, the fans.
Doesn't mean I don’t miss that crazy 6-sided ring, that just adds an extra little bit of spice to the proceedings.
Doesn't mean that I don't mind adding to my already fairly impressive record.
After all, it's been 6 months or more. It's probably time I remind people why I was world heavyweight champion around these parts.
And that brings me to my opponent, to Milo Kasey.
After all…I can’t really fear a younger opponent who’s lost four on the spin, can I?
I'm sure coming into Inception off the back of an admission that you can’t find a way to beat Bill Barnhart has some kind of threatening connotation to it that my brain just isn’t figuring out, and we’ll loop around to that one in a moment, because can I first offer you my commiserations because umm…
…a man in your position? I’m sure you’d love to test your mettle against a former World Heavyweight champion who always has some excuse. I’m overworked, undertrained, catering didn’t have my favourite pizza toppings, the full moon was in Libra or something…because let’s face it, not all World champions are created equal, right? Austin James Mercer is very much beatable on his day. Very much unbeatable on other days too, don’t get me wrong but umm…
It turns out you don’t get it so easy this time around.
Look I’m not the type to go and disrespect someone that can win a title belt around here. That's the kind of rookie error that…let’s be fair…I wouldn’t have been making even ten years ago…but I’m a realist too. There are some guys around here…like Austin for example…where you have to dangle a big enough carrot to get anything out of them. It shouldn’t be that hard. Miles…I’ve never faced you before. That’s my motivation to prove that I can. You have the chance to take out a former World champion, that should be your motivation to give me everything you’ve got and to be fair?
Your inability to take Bill out serves as a kind of motivation in itself. You kind of get it…but you’re still some way short.
I don’t want to make light of your ability either, of course. Sure, arrogance might tell me this is all mine to lose, but ability isn’t your problem. After all the Roulette title is a bit of a wild card, and if you can come through that it shows if nothing else that you're adaptable, you can roll with the punches.
But we look back to that admission real quick.
Now, I've been in the ring a number of times with Bill. I can tell you that he has never been able to score a victory against me. He probably sees me much the same way as you do him…I don't know if you've got in your own head over him, or if there's something a little more technical to this, but either way it's something that can be exploited. It’s playing right into my hands.
And no, I’m not going to throw the age-old ‘You can’t beat Bill…Bill can’t beat me…so you can’t beat me’ preschool kinda logic at you. I can do one better than that.
I've wrestled all around the world. I've wrestled in parts of Africa and Asia where there is a really deep rooted tradition of wrestling, but the styles are very awkward compared to what we’re used to in the US. I've talked about it until I was blue in the face about how I trained in Japan, and I wrestled a lot in Japan in the time afterwards…and trust me, the infamous chop training that you might get here in a US gym is kicked up into overdrive. We’d hit each other with kendo sticks, 2x4s, whole wooden boards as part of the toughening up process, and we needed it to. Half the style is kicking, kneeing, or elbowing an opponent hard in the face. You had to be able to take it as well as give it out. Bill is different too, he is very unorthodox, his style is just a combination of little bits stolen from here and there, he tries to throw you off as much as he can, keeps the pressure on you…doesn’t let you get your footing…
But he’s just wrestling.
You just have to strategize around it…and honestly? You have to be prepared to take a little punishment, too. You say the losses are the motivation but just how much motivation?
After all…Mac Bane only kicked out of the GTS in a Supershow Main Event…with a World title on the line. He didn’t the two times before…just proving the point again that some guys need a big enough carrot in order to give a shit. Otherwise they can’t get their bodies to get up one more time, or they figure they’ll just lay down, waiting for that bigger fish to come along.
I’m not waiting for a bigger fish, Miles. This business is all just wrestling, in the end. What it all boils down to in the end is a fight. Tougher man wins, if that man is willing to lay it all out on the line.
This is what throws me…you can hang in a Roulette format, but you can’t figure out Bill…who’s a walking talking Roulette title match.
You’re entering the ring with a man who has a Plan A, B, C, and D for every opponent. A former World Champion here, a former two-time Blast from the Past winner…a guy who can change the whole complexion of a match within the face of a move or two. A natural born fighter, who has come back from immense punishment to win…whether that be in front of 15 people or 15,000 people.
You don’t need to put a title on the line to get my best work. Give me an opponent and ring a bell.
Now don’t get me wrong, I can be beaten, but go back over them…go back over a decade. What do those opponents all have in common?
They had to bring their best work to do it.
Now…you make noise about wanting to beat Bill, but he can’t bring that out of you. Do you want me to believe that you can?
Now…I know the word ‘territory’ is rarely used to describe this business anymore…but I’m going to revive it, because when you work in one place for a while, you start to cross paths with some familiar names. I came toe to toe with Goth, right beside me almost to the bitter end in the West Coast Rumble…an impressive start. I’ve seen Mac Bane struggle to take the lid off the basket, maybe struggling to adapt as well as he would have liked given his history and his success here…and in that same Rumble…well…Peter Vaughn managed to outlast me, right at the death…after I’d chalked off a couple of his nine lives.
It’ll be me to face the champion at the next big event.
Some people struggle in new settings. Fortunes can vary, even working in the same city.
I guess all eyes are on me to see how I ‘adapt’ to Sin City Wrestling again.
I don’t need to adapt.
I’ve already been to the top of that pyramid. I’ve already seen the view.
You’re not putting me in an unusual setting. You’re not making me do anything I haven’t done before. You’ve got no spin of the wheel and no gimmick to hide behind. It’s just you and me.
I’m the one former World champion who isn’t about giving free passes.