I figured I had two choices, by this point. In attempting to clear my head, I’d dug myself deeper, jumping feet-first into a situation where, surprise surprise, I hadn’t anywhere near appreciated the depth of. I’d come to realise just how deep it went in just a few days' time. When I truly needed an escape, I had two options. Iceland...the one place on Earth where even I, unable to sit still for more than a few moments, always dreaming up some wild plan or zany scheme, could take a deep breath, slow down and truly unwind. I knew if I was ever truly done, with everything, I could head there, buy a woolly jumper, eat skyr for breakfast every morning, ride my Icelandic horse, and float around in lagoons for the rest of my days. It truly changed me, within a matter of days. I hate to use the “M” word but it was the closest thing to meditation I’d ever found in my life so far. All it cost was a plane ticket, which was way cheaper than any ayahuasca retreat ever could be. It was a solid option...but I wasn’t looking to relax and unwind, as such. I still had a week of hard work and preparation to put in before Into The Void. I wanted to free up some space in my mind, to fully focus on the job at hand, not wipe the slate clean. Maybe after I was champion, I could afford a week to take a breather, but this was not the point to take my foot off the gas.
Then...there was Japan, the second option. The land of the Rising Sun is where my wrestling career began to flourish, when things finally started to click for me, and my performances in the squared circle really fell into place. I spoke the language, I understood the culture, and if there was ever a place where I could go to feel loved and adored, it was around a purist Japanese wrestling fanbase. The chants of DO-RA-GON that rang out loud and proud, whether I was performing in one of their rings, or attending as a fan, trying to lay low, sitting out in the audience trying to catch a show. Getting recognised was almost guaranteed. It was yet another reminder of why I did what I did, displaying the art of wrestling for all who came to see, was something I had to continue for as long as I could. In the US in particular, the art form would often be underappreciated. It was more about what you said on TV...but that didn’t mean I could write it off as a lost cause. I still had a duty.
Yet Japan...it never really felt comfortable to me, it was never really home. I knew I could never live there, and that, probably, was the main reason why I didn’t flip the bird to the “wrestling entertainment” business and set up shop there. That...made it perfect. In fact, I never really figured out how important the culture of a place was to me until one day, when I returned to Canterbury, my home town in England, and it didn’t really feel like home anymore. I spent the first twenty years of my life, there or thereabouts, being around that place, but even as I walked the same cobbled streets I used to stagger through after a night on the town, drank in the same pubs, ate in my favourite restaurants...it just wasn’t Miami. Japan wasn’t Miami either, and in fact it was so far removed from both of the places I’d called home in my lifetime that it always kept me...kind of on edge in a way. I was permanently out of my comfort zone. I was safe, I was popular, and I was respected. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling but I was just...I don’t know…it had the same feeling of being in a new city, a “new” hotel, even though it looked the same as all the others. It felt like going to work. That was the mindset I needed right now.
I’d go to Japan. I’d return to the Pro Wrestling JAPAN dojo, where I got my first opportunity to develop Strong Style, and that was where I’d train until it was game time. It felt like the right decision. It felt like the only decision. I knew it would get my mind in the right place, and I was guaranteed a sound few nights of sleep that way too. In my home environment, I was almost too comfortable, my mind was free to wander to all kinds of far-off places and generally, that’s what it did.
Part 1 - Happy Memories
14th October 2019
The Dragon: Alright, I’m gonna wash up real quick.
Winsome: You’re sweet, but since you cooked, I’m washing up. By the way, I think my glass is empty?
The Dragon: Yes ma’am!
Sometimes they say the most beautiful things in life happen organically, they bubble away under the surface, developing and growing into something until eventually, they manifest themselves into something incredible. It wasn’t planned of course, none of the people involved ever really thought that was the direction it’d take, but since it happened so naturally, they would decide to let it run its course.
Winsome had a troubled past...at least...that was what I could gather. She didn’t talk about it much, and to be honest, she didn’t have to either. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, it was just...it wouldn’t change anything, as far as I was concerned. In fact, it’d probably have made me care for her more if I knew the whole story. I figured at first glance most people found her guarded, almost a little cold. I never really got that treatment, maybe I seemed warm enough and harmless enough, who knows. Those people, they were wrong of course, but there was definitely a kind of toughness there. Plus, she had her daughter to protect just as much as she did herself, and in that case it’s understandable when a person puts up a barrier here and there.
Although, much like when you put the bumpers up when you went bowling, it was still possible to leave the safety of your lane. You just had to try hard enough…
The Dragon: So I bought a thing…
Like any typical man, multi-tasking wasn’t my strong suit, and wrestling the thing out of my bag at the same time as pouring us wine was a recipe for disaster. I managed to make it happen without spilling a drop, more than a little impressed with myself, as I produced a very well-loved copy of Wii Sports.
Winsome: Ooh, what did you bring me? ...oh.
The Dragon: So I figured you’d have that reaction, but hear me out.
Winsome: Now what chance does little old me have against a professional athlete like you, huh? You gonna go easy on me, wrestler?
The Dragon: I might let you win a couple of games...maybe…
The playful teasing had been part-and-parcel of their friendship that again, just seemed to fall into place. Me inviting myself over for dinner one evening, and not getting shot down in flames when I turned up out of the blue, evolved into a semi-regular thing. Win would usually host, she had Aurora, or Rory, as she was affectionately known to look after, as well as a puppy, so it just made sense, but I made sure to take my fair share of cooking duties...not that I minded, I loved to cook...and even went so far as to practice making vegan dishes in my spare time, so I had something new to impress her with the next time around.
Come to think of it, I was working pretty hard to impress from the outset.
Winsome: Well I guess it won’t be the strangest of our dates. Go on then wrestler, set it up.
The Dragon: Yay! Get ready to lose.
Winsome: Uh-huh.
Seeing “Hey wrestler!” pop up on my phone still made me smile, even two years on.
A few minutes later, after I’d carried the re-filled glasses through, I had Wii Tennis set up. It was a great warm-up, for one, and tennis had been my favourite sport as a teenager. I’d gotten pretty good at it, too.
Winsome: Now remember what you said…
The Dragon: Yeah, yeah…
I started off playing right-handed, just to “even the odds” a little bit. It was Wii Tennis after all, not proper tennis, and it didn’t give me much of a disadvantage. Besides, it was getting late, we were both full of vegan lasagne and wine, it wasn’t the most high-octane performance from either one of us...but it was only a matter of time before my competitiveness got the better of me.
It was a short forehand, sitting up lovely. I was flashing back to my late-teens all over again, probably on a rainy day turning out for the Canterbury 1st team...or maybe one of my few appearances at County level for Kent...I was going to win it all as I leapt in the air...taking a big cut at the ball with Wii remote cocked and ready…
*CRACK*
Oops. Naturally, I stopped immediately to check on my fallen opponent...right after I’d finished the shot and won the match...I told you I was competitive...
Winsome: I think you broke my nose…
The Dragon: Naaaaaah you’ll be fine just walk it o-
As Winsome took her hand away from her face, I very quickly withdrew my helpful suggestion of ‘walk it off’ as, like virtually always, she was probably right.
The Dragon: Yeah...We should get you to the hospital actually.
Winsome: MARK!!
The Dragon: I’M SORRY!!
The sudden sound of a baby crying pierces through our collective eardrums from down the corridor.
Winsome: YOU WOKE UP RORY!
The Dragon: STOP SHOUTING AT ME!
Winsome: YOU HIT ME IN THE FACE, YOU STOP SHOUTING AT ME!
The Dragon: OK OK, you’re probably right…
I tentatively made my approach, arms outstretched.
The Dragon: ...let’s just calm down and think about this for a second...
Winsome: Hey mister don’t think you can just-
Winsome’s half-protests, along with her attempts to bat me away fail as I wrapped my arms around her, and I knew that if I’d gotten that far, I wasn’t in *that* much trouble. She had one hell of a kick on her, as I found out the hard way, and would have had absolutely no problem stopping me if she really wanted to. We both had our moments of being hot-headed and short-tempered, you should have seen that time we tried to build a wardrobe together, although we never really turned on each other. At least...not for long.
The Dragon: OK so I’ll go and...erm...no, you should pack Rory’s bag, since I’ll probably forget all of the things, and then I’ll drive us to the hospital.
Winsome: You’ve been drinking.
The Dragon: One glass…
Winsome: Two glasses.
The Dragon: One and a half...OK so you pack Rory’s bag, I’ll call us a cab, we go to hospital, get this all straightened out…
Starting to chuckle at my own terrible pun? Definitely not smart.
Winsome: Not the time for your little jokes…
The Dragon: Sorry.
Now I’m sure cab drivers must have seen some weird shit, but the three of us must have been a picture that night. One of us holding tissue to a bloody nose, one baby crying in protest, and one pro athlete, looking rather sorry for himself. I remember that it felt like the longest, quietest cab ride in the history of time. Aurora definitely wasn’t impressed with being woken up, but as she sat between us in the baby seat, kind of like a mediator in a war-time peace treaty negotiation, the vibrations and sound of the moving vehicle was more than enough to rock her back to the land of nod sooner rather than later.
Some time passes, and we're skipped ahead, taken to a hospital waiting room. Mark is seated, seemingly alone in the room, one hand scrolling idly through a social media app on his phone, the other gently rocking Aurora, still in her baby seat, gently with his foot. He was suddenly snapped out of his absent-minded scrolling as he stopped on an image. It seemed so familiar, but also so out-of-place at the same time. It just wasn’t possible, at least in that moment anyway. It was sometime in the future. A picture of Winsome...showing off her wedding ring. He’d seen it before of course, he’d been happy for her back then. Their time dating had been fun but, by the same token, maybe they were more compatible with other people
He hadn’t realised then that...maybe, just maybe...she was the one that got away...or was the pressure of the last few months making him crazy? A sudden stabbing pain struck him in the general vicinity of his heart when-
*CRAAAAAAASH*
The Dragon: What the FUCK.
Mark sits bolt upright in the bed of his accommodation, as what sounded like a door being booted open wakes him up instantly. That sweet dream had turned oh-so-quickly into a beautiful nightmare. There was absolutely no way anyone would find him here, he thinks to himself, he’d barely told anyone he was headed for Japan even, until an unknown figure, who definitely wasn’t Japanese, appears in the doorway.
The Dragon: Who the hell are you then?
Unknown: Are you Mark Cross?
The Dragon: Yeah - Who are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my AirBnB?
Unknown: I’m Declan Miles. Caleb sent me.
Mark pulls back the covers, his legs swinging out of the bed as he rises to his feet. By wrestling standards, he often gave away quite a lot in height to his opponents. Much like his football career, size was definitely an advantage in his sport, and he had to be smart to work around that, but he figured he had the measure of this unknown gentleman in all counts.
The Dragon: Who is this Caleb guy I keep hearing about exactly?
Declan: He’s my boss. He believes you know the whereabouts of his ex-wife.
The Dragon: Oh great. Micaela?
Declan: Yeah, Micaela.
Mark takes a couple of paces towards the doorway. He notices Declan take a backwards half-step. Maybe more of the smarter, investigative type than the aggressive, dangerous one, he figures, but clearly not a complete stranger to a little dirty work, since he’d managed to kick the door in all by himself.
The Dragon: Couldn’t you have knocked?
Declan: I did. Several times…
The Dragon: It was a great dream to be fair...Now last time I saw Micaela, she was battered and bruised from head-to-toe, after running into someone else who works with your boss I believe. Don’t suppose you know anything about that do you?
Declan: I uhh...no...no I didn’t. That’s a little above my pay grade…
The Dragon: Is it? Interesting...I don’t know how you feel about this issue, but to be honest, usually it’s better for toxic relationships like theirs to come to an end.
Declan: Are you two, romantically…
The Dragon: No - I just don’t like bullies thinking they can push people around...and now that brings me to you. I have to ask...did you bring a gun, Declan?
Declan: What do you mean?
The Dragon: It’s a pretty simple question...when you came to find me, did you bring a gun with you?
Declan: No, of course I didn’t, I came here to ask you for information not to ki-
The Dragon: Wrong answer.
The scene cuts to an idyllic side-street on the outskirts of town. It is a beautiful, traditional-looking building, quintessentially Japanese, wood fronted, with brick-red tiles on the roof. It’s small and quaint, the door hanging loosely from its hinges. From within, the peace and beauty is contrasted by the sounds of a struggle, bangs, crashes, and the muffled cries of pain of one singular voice, a male. A few moments later, the door flies open, and out of it, the unknown visitor is launched. Dusting his hands off, looking entirely unscathed from the encounter, and barely out of breath, stands Mark “The Dragon” Cross.
The Dragon: Next time you send someone after me, bring some extra firepower. Bunch of amateurs I swear…
Declan: He’s not going to stop you know!
The Dragon: Fuck off, Declan.
He slams the door shut behind him, remembering that the lock was now busted, as he watches it swing helplessly right back open.
The Dragon: Ruined an incredible dream, and now I’m not getting my deposit back. What a fucking wakep call.
As Declan picks himself up from the ground, brushing away gingerly at his ripped and dusty suit, the scene fades away.
Part 2 - Preparing for War
Pro Wrestling JAPAN Dojo - Shibuya, Japan
Thursday 20th May 2021
In my working life, I’ve learned a lot of lessons about toughness. From my football career, where some of the first things they taught me was “always keep your legs moving” and “don’t show them you’re hurt until you’re back in the huddle” to arriving here in this dojo, where learning to take punishment formed as much of the curriculum as learning to dish it out too.
Mark paces around the dojo, each step causing the wooden floor underfoot to squeak. It is to all intents and purposes a traditional Japanese building, but it seems to have a “bespoke” feel to it, large enough to accommodate a wrestling ring in the centre, while still allowing for other areas to work. He is alone as he walks, a towel draped around his shoulders.
I figured when it came to making my final preparations for war, where else but here? Every single training session I ever had in this building felt like a mini war all in itself. I knew what it meant to be a professional athlete, I knew how to take a beating, in fact it motivated me, made me want to get back up and get revenge, but the advantage I had in toughness was balanced out by my lack of wrestling ability. That was the biggest thing I learned from here, most of all. I was the human punching bag, soaking up as much as I could, hoping my opponent would get exhausted first, capitalise. It wasn’t pretty, and to be honest, it wasn’t very effective a lot of the time either.
I proved myself to my teachers here. My skills were limited, but my work ethic was unmatched and, as I went to war for them, they went to war for me, doing everything in their power to drag me, kicking and screaming, into becoming an excellent ring technician. I had days, as the damage to my body was evident, where I thought of throwing in the towel, and there were days, as after endless repetitions of me still not grasping the concepts, where my teachers considered packing me straight back to AWA...but every next morning I went back. Every day, they continued to work with me. Every day, both parties stayed long after everyone else had left, to get my game to where we wanted to be.
Greatness doesn’t come overnight. Greatness takes time, hard work, pain, suffering, and a fair few losses along the way. It comes with harsh lessons too, and we are all very much a product of those. I don’t claim to be perfect, far from it. I have so much more development to do, in the ring and out of it, but I can be pretty damn pleased with where I am now.
I’ve seen more than my fair share of competitors who have been in this sport as long as I have. Washed up has-beens, carrying niggling injuries that just never seem to go away, not working anywhere near as hard as they used to, not wanting to, not caring, just wanting to punch their card, take their paycheck and go home. Hooked on drugs, alcohol, prescription painkillers, a dangerous combination of all three...The odds are very much stacked against me, but that’s not the be-all-and-end-all. That crop also includes winners, champions, record breakers, Hall of Famers...vastly experienced, using it to great effect, wrestling better than they’ve ever wrestled before. Those people are few and far between, great names destined for the history books. It’s tough to do...but it can be done.
I thought, maybe four years back, as I cut my schedule right down to work full-time with Royal Purple, that my career as I knew it was over. I was looking at someone, aged fifteen, who I knew in a few short years would probably surpass me in the near future but you know what? Me at my best, versus her at her best, it’s closer than I ever thought it would be. Face each other ten times, we’d probably split the difference. It turns out, I was wrong. Not about her, she’s incredible. The Bombshell Roulette title is the fourth championship she’s held, the girl’s nineteen...it just turns out that I’m also getting better with age, there’s a lot more fight left in this old dog yet.
I mean...Does anyone else get the feeling that maybe my opponent at Into the Void has some anger issues he needs to deal with? I mean Jesus H Christ, full marks to whoever’s managing to piss in his cornflakes every single morning, that takes some cojones. I’m worried he’s going to burst blood vessels whenever a camera gets put in his face. It’s probably not a bad thing he’s a little...reclusive...better for his heart health that way, huh? Wouldn’t want him keeling over before he got into the ring now, would we?
Now last week I asked if Jack REALLY thinks he can keep up his end of the bargain. I’m going to make you suffer, I’m going to dismantle you, I’m going to take you apart piece-by-piece-by-piece like I’m some kind of fucking jigsaw puzzle and you know what, it all sounds great on paper I mean...if you’re the champion and you can pull all of THAT off in your next defence then hey, you probably deserve to be a champion don’t you? The best, the undisputed...and you know what the best thing of all is? If you want to get smithereened, he’s like a human drinking game every time the red light comes on.
Jack makes another threat? Guess we’re gonna have to drink! It’s threats on top of threats on top of threats with a dressing of an overwhelming sense of self fucking importance and you know what? He’s setting us all up for disappointment, when they turn out to be nothing more than empty promises when we get out there. He makes it sound like I’m just the easy route through to the next Supershow, that I have no business being in there. That sounds a lot to me like disrespect...something I will happily let slide. Some of my most dominant victories have come against opposition that don’t give me the respect I’ve earned. It’s almost like I have a point to prove.
This isn’t my first rodeo. As Gary Player once said, the more you practice, the luckier you get, and for the past decade, all I’ve done is practice relentlessly...you know what getting luckier has brought me? Two Blast from the Past wins, back-to-back. Two tag team titles. One seven-month reign as the man at the top for Sin City Underground, as their champion. Straight-up, one-on-one singles wins against championship quality opposition and two-time number one contender for the World Heavyweight championship. You want to say I’m lucky to be here? Too fucking right I’m lucky to be here, it’s a great opportunity for one, but this for one thing, isn’t fluke. It’s just the cream rising to the top. I’m making my own luck.
Opportunity number two for me, at the World title, opportunity number two for Jack...to beat me. I hear revenge is on the cards, even twelve months plus down the line. As if he didn’t need enough motivation as it was, huh? See normally after all this time buddy I’d say you’ve gotta let it go, but it’s kind of topical if we’re being totally honest about this. Tallyn, hot prospect, against Evie Jordan, natural born winner. Jack Washington, incredible talent, versus Mark Cross, stack loads of ability along with bags of experience. You see - Against most, maybe all of the other teams in that draw, you two may have had the ability to carry yourselves through, despite Tally’s inexperience, despite your hot-headedness...but if you have ability versus ability and mentality combined? There’s only going to be one winner in that situation, and if you hadn’t already guessed, we won’t be splitting here.
Jack you have a lot of growing up to do, I’m afraid to say. Your body is writing checks that your mind can’t cash, and that can get you pretty damn far, you’ve proved that, more than once...but I’m a couple of steps ahead of you right now. I know it, I figure you probably know it too, but you just don’t know how to deal with it. There are very few situations in life where anger and frustration helps. In a combat sport, where you think it’d do you a solid? Boxing, wrestling, jiu jitsu, mixed martial-arts, even football…these are all thinking man’s games too. We dance around each other, make moves, throw fakes, test the waters, it’s as much like a game of chess as it is a fight. The stronger the offense, the bigger the risk of it backfiring. Working off pure instinct works for some, sure, and at times we all have to rely on that to get us out of real danger, but it can’t be the default. That’s asking for trouble, and if you rely on your emotions to fuel you, you’re adding a huge dose of unpredictability into your game.
You tell everyone what you’re going to do Jack, I tell you why you won’t. You make a statement, I shoot it down. That’s the story of our match on Sunday night, that’s what you have to get used to. For every question, I’ll have an answer. For every action, I’ll be firing back with a carefully calculated reaction. I will be three steps ahead of you at all times, and the more it frustrates you, the more I’ll capitalise.
I wonder how long it’ll take you to realise you played right into my hands all along.
Mark throws his towel on top of his kit bag, preparing to leave the dojo for the day.
I feel like I made the right decision to come here. From the moment I stepped foot in this place years ago, I knew I was here to work my tail off. It’s ironic, considering the amount of punishment we dished out on each other when we trained here, that my main reason for coming here in the first place, is I knew taking a beating wasn’t very sustainable as a Plan A for me. If I needed the money, maybe...but improving my technical ability was the key to extending my career, to keeping me in this sport as long as I have been.
My first time in Japan, I only had a very basic grasp of the language, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t plan on the training being so brutal, even if I was counting on being pushed to my limits. I didn’t expect the fans to get on my case so much for the Americanised gimmicks I brought down to the ring back then. I didn’t realise just how lacking my abilities were until I got out there, started working with some of those guys, night in, night out. I knew I had to work harder than all of them to catch up, but I didn’t lose hope. It inspired me. I wanted to be just like them. Oh...and then I wanted to be better.
Whatever mess I left back home in the US? That can wait. Whatever...personal decisions...I have to make, there’s a time and a place. For now, it’s all about the World Heavyweight title, my hand held in victory, and a count of one...two...three. I expect to be tested. I expect to be sore for a couple of days afterwards, but I don’t envisage any time on the sidelines, rehabilitating a nasty injury. There’s only one result I can see. There’s only one result I can accept.
Your NEW World Heavyweight champion. Mark “The Dragon” Cross.
The scene fades to black.
Part 3 - Face Time
The scene opens to two webcam images - One of Mark “The Dragon” Cross in his accommodation in Japan and one of SCU Backstage Interviewer Dev Khatri, back in Las Vegas.
The Dragon: Big D! Long time no speak - Surprised they even got you to take this one!
Dev: Well, I figured since you’re not even in the United States, I might have been safe for once.
The Dragon: You know Val and I don’t even speak anymore, right? The Fire Dragons are long gone, we’re not going to be pranking you. It’s perfectly safe.
Dev: I don’t believe that for one second. Oh, and as for Royal Purple…
The Dragon: She thrown Kool-Aid in your face yet?
Dev: Three times.
The Dragon: Oh…
Dev: And you TRAINED her…
The Dragon: Well she’s kind of a lone w-
Dev: Somehow Mark it’s ALWAYS. YOUR. FAULT.
Dev’s fist slams on the desk in front of him, causing the camera to shake, and causes Mark to jump back as the sound is picked up by the microphone, slamming his eardrums.
The Dragon: Wow. Looks like you had some things to get off your chest there Dev, you feeling better about it now?
Dev: A little.
The Dragon: Eat a Snickers or something. Jeez. Can we start then? It’s getting late here.
Dev: Yeah, we can start. Hey guys, this is Big D - Dev Khatri here with you for a special video call with Mark “The Dragon” Cross ahead of his World Heavyweight title shot at Into the Void and first of all...I know Gemma already said this, but two straight Blast from the Past wins, congratulations! You must be proud to put your name down in the history books with that one.
The Dragon: Absolutely right. Blast from the Past is always a bit of a crap shoot, random teams, random partners, and as the almighty Andrea Hernandez has said many times in the past, one person can’t carry a team through that competition. I absolutely accept the point though, that I need to convert this one into a World title, or the backlash is going to be unreal, only half the job is done as far as I’m concerned.
Dev: It seems like you’ve had a lot more people on your back this time?
The Dragon: Nah, not really. I was SCU Underground champion for over half a year. Social media is one thing, in front of camera is another, you guys see all of that of course, but what you also don’t see are the crossed words backstage,the eyes burning into the back of your skull, the little bumps on the shoulder when someone walks past you, the parts the cameras don’t catch. I’m used to having a target on my back, and you probably remember those times, right Dev? All those who said I wasn’t worthy, that I had no right to hold that title. The same people that either, one, couldn’t take it off me or two, couldn’t even do enough to earn themselves a shot. Same happened when I stepped up to the main roster, SCU aren’t worthy around here...until I blurred the lines beyond all recognition, picking up wins as I went. It’s a natural reaction to try and tear someone down when they’re in the position you want to be in. It’s a whole other thing to take it for yourself.
Dev: And what do you say to the detractors this time, those that point out you were eliminated once this time around?
The Dragon: Well...if we want to be technical...I’ve been in eight Blast from the Past matches, and haven’t personally been pinned, made to tappa-tappa, or counted out. I could throw Krystal under the bus, say getting lumbered with the rookie that couldn’t even buy a win at this level was too much for even someone as mighty as myself...or we can just take it at face value and be honest with ourselves. I mean what do you want me to say? They’re right, my team did get eliminated. I can’t change history. I also can’t change the course of every match, especially when there’s three other people involved, and I can’t lay a finger on one of my two opponents. I can only influence what’s in my sphere of control at the end of the day. I got a second chance, all I could do was grab it with both hands, make the best of it I could, and now I find myself here. I guess the real question, if not me, how many others would have been sitting in my position, ready to face Jack for the title? Probably not as many as you think. Most would have bounced out again before it was all over.
Dev: Do you like tag matches, out of interest?
The Dragon: Not really.
Dev: Why?
The Dragon: I don’t have to share the limelight, of course! Nah I’m kidding...kind of...but you remember that sphere of influence I just mentioned? One man versus one opponent, not only is it the purest form of combat, but there’s no situation where I’m going to have more control than right there, at that moment. It’s quite fitting really, that ‘so many’ doubt me, ‘so many’ feel like it’s just a fluke, ‘so many’ think this is a pathetic waste of a title shot...because at Into the Void, win, lose or draw, there is nothing and nobody I can hide behind. It’s all me. If I lose, I have absolutely no choice but to admit this time, they were right. I have more work to do. By the same token, all these doubters? Completely exposed, totally humiliated, if I come out on top. They backed the wrong horse, they underestimated me, and surprise surprise, we’ll watch them wriggle and squirm as they try to save face somehow.
Dev: Plus you went on record to say you didn’t enjoy teaming up with Ruby…
The Dragon: Sometimes, it doesn’t work out, that’s all it is. With Evie last year...as people we’re two opposite ends of the spectrum, there wasn’t much common ground there, but we both knew we were more than capable in the ring, and at least on that front we were there to back each other up. With Valentina, she injected a bit of fun into wrestling when I needed it most, and I hope I helped elevate her a lot closer to her potential. Look where she is now. With Krystal...I mean getting that first W on the board on the main show took a while for her...and with anyone making that step up in class, it usually takes a while. We can’t all be a Ruby, or a Royal Purple, and win on debut. I certainly didn’t. It was fun while it lasted, and who knows, she could finish the weekend as Bombshell Roulette champion - What a difference a few months make. Turns out she might have been pretty close to breaking through, and if we ran the tournament again now, it might have been The Dragon and the Wolfe taking the win instead. With Ruby - I feel like we’re going to talk about this later, but a touch of immaturity and, I hate to drop the pun, but a few rookie errors - They’re common at her age, at her level of experience. It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did. I had to do a lot of soul-searching to figure out why.
Dev: Also on the card is the King for the Day match...and we’d guess whoever comes out on top is going to put themselves into the World title picture, maybe even as your first title defence if you became champion. Any preferences on the winner?
The Dragon: I can’t say I do, to be honest. Plus, is there really any guarantee they’re going to come for me anyway? I know it’s a gilt-edged opportunity at a World Heavyweight title shot, definitely not one to pass up, but who out of those four really feels confident about taking me on? Austin, beat him a couple of weeks back...Cassian, took him out during Blast from the Past...Agostino probably has his eyes set on winning back his Internet title I would have thought...so by process of elimination does that leave Vinnie the most likely to pick me? I guess it probably does. Truth be told I’d take them all. AJM, when he’s not beaten, bruised and overtrained, would be a very stern test, I’d happily take another crack at him. Cassian Reed, my fellow Brit, it’d be great to tackle him face-up, one-on-one. Vinnie, well he was top of the pyramid when I first rocked up around Sin City, the first example of the level I needed to be at to sit on that throne, and Agostino...to test my research skills. From what I gather, the guy’s not shared much about his past up to now. It’d be interesting to know what he’s hiding.
Dev: Funny you mention hiding, as it’s been said how absent you’ve been lately…
The Dragon: ...here we go…
Dev: Will that change, if you become World Heavyweight champion?
The Dragon: Absolutely. Look I get how this works, and I understand that I have to “play the game” in the US, a lot more than I would do here in Japan anyway, and I appreciate there are certain contractual obligations as well. I’m not being told to show up by anyone who pays my salary, and I’m just here telling them to go fuck themselves because I’m a number one contender. I’ve been given the opportunity to prepare for this match however I see fit, and I’ve exercised that right, to make sure I prepare in the very best way I possibly could. The match is huge. The title is huge. The event is huge. My duty is to be ready to perform at a level worthy of it. Oh, and we have a marketing team. It’s getting plenty sold enough, I assure you.
Dev: Why does winning the title make that any different? Surely it makes your preparation even more important?
The Dragon: Yes and no...look...the past few months haven’t been a lot of fun for me to be around wrestling. I’ve said it before, I’m saying it again to you now. It’s all gotten a bit *too* serious. It was a gradual thing, I slipped into a place that I’ve never really been in before, it took me a little while to figure my way out of it, and I’m getting there now…
Dev: So you’re going to take it less seriously when you’re champion? I don’t get it.
The Dragon: I can’t speak for everyone of course, but my schedule? I’m usually training for around 5 hours per day, so 6am alarm, be in the gym by 7am...technically I’m free by midday. In that free time I’m still studying my opponents, making sure I’m eating right, stretching, foam-rolling, physio, spending time in the hot tub etc. to make sure that my recovery from those workouts is the best that they can be...but that still leaves a lot of time in my schedule where I don’t have to be thinking about wrestling all the time, you know - Where I can put myself in the gaming room to try and run Resi 8 knives only, or get out to the golf course...maybe go for a beer with a friend on South Beach. Once you’ve reached this kind of level, it can’t be an all-consuming thing. The pressure and the expectation is too high. That’s a sure-fire way to flame out within a year.
Dev: And is that the problem, it was an all-consuming thing for you?
The Dragon: Pretty much, honestly. I couldn’t ask for much more from my life. It’d be selfish, too. I put in 5 hours of ‘work’ into something I love every day, and then the rest of the time is my own to do as I please. Then, once a week or so, I get to travel the world, putting on a show for a fanbase that are passionate about the work we do, wear our faces on their shirts, hang our posters on the wall. That was fun, now next week do it again. I float on a big fucking cloud with a number 9 on it, almost all the time...and yet I was getting out of the gym irritated, restless. Comments on social media, a mistake on my coffee order, a less than favourable post on a forum, opening the tub of chlorine tablets too fast and dumping a metric shit-ton of them into the hot tub all at once so I couldn’t use it until I put fresh water in, getting killed by a squeaky-voiced 12-year old kid on Warzone who I called a virgin down the mic instead of just laughing it off. I was a moody fucker, the slightest thing out of place could set me off. I was still winning in the ring of course, it’s why I’m here, but it’s like I had my own personal rain cloud following me wherever I went, that was never going to be sustainable.
Dev: ...and you’ve never had that before?
The Dragon: Not in the same way. Sometimes, getting bored happens, you know? Your routine feels a little stale, hearing the roar of the crowd doesn’t make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up the way it used to. That’s easy to manage, it comes as fast as it goes. Usually I’ll just take a couple of extra shows elsewhere, new cities, new venues, new opponents, make it a bit of a sightseeing tour. Plus, there’s nothing like trying to throw together a workout when there’s no gym for miles...but I can honestly say I’ve never gotten to the point where one Tweet would send me into a fit of rage. Ruby and O’Malley both managed to accomplish that recently, and I knew that enough was enough. I’m not Jack.
Dev: Good segue, I was going to ask about him next.
The Dragon: Well let’s head there next then. The standard holding pattern for me? I fly above all the bullshit, you know? When you peel back the layers of this business you start to see that toxicity runs deep, along with a good amount of guys and girls who know how to manipulate the system for their own gain. Person X doesn’t like Person Y, can’t stand to be in the same room as them, because of some comments that were taken out of context or whatever, and they’d not bothered to forgive and forget. Person Y really likes Person Z but to you guys, watching from the outside, you’d think they’re mortal enemies, because it makes for good copy, that shit sells. By acting like they have a problem with each other, they elevate each other up the card because it makes a statement. There’s all these little narratives bubbling away under the surface, total minefield, so easy to wander straight in on some long-running drama and you know what, I don’t have time for that. Keep your nose out of it, or you’re constantly walking on eggshells. As for Jack? Someone on the SCW Content Team writes something he doesn’t like, and now he’s all up-in-arms about it. Oh, and it’s me that has to pay? I just find it funny that his grand plan is to seriously injure me. It’s schoolboy, playground threats, that’s all.
Dev: He’s a two-time World Heavyweight Champion…
The Dragon: He’s also a petulant child, Big D, throwing his toys out of the pram because he isn’t getting his own way. It’s pathetic. I’ve seen kids who could cut a more balanced video argument than him, it’s probably the best we don’t hear from him every week, it’d be the same old garbage. Waaaaah waaaaah better than you waaaaaah waaaaaah you’re gonna suffer waaaaah waaaaah someone said something horrible about me now I’m sad. He’s talented in a ring, sure, it’s why he’s in this position in the first place, but I can gameplan for that. The ring is my domain just as much as his, if not more...but just imagine if he could keep his head on his shoulders too. Maybe he wouldn’t lose to Kris Ryans. Maybe he wouldn’t be so hell-bent on kicking me into a different zip code, which only plays into my hands, as he slips up and I take his crown. The difference? He can invoke his rematch clause all he likes. He’s not getting it back. Not until he learns to keep his head in the game
Dev: Feeling confident about your chances then?
The Dragon: Absolutely - I came so close this time last year...but now I’m another year better. I’m another year experienced, another year prepared. If I don’t take it now, other chances will come of course, I can always win my way back up the ladder...and there’s always three-peating Blast from the Past as an option, but no - This is mine for the taking. A new regime is about to take hold. I’m not just hungry for more gold, I’m hungry for more records. How long is the longest single title reign again?
Dev: J2H - 399 days.
The Dragon: Challenge accepted.
Dev: What, seriously?
The Dragon: Yup.
Dev: J2H’s record? You?
The Dragon: Hopefully he has to come back to try and stop me himself before he gets overtaken. Now THAT is some shit you can sell
Dev: And you’re not joking about that?
The Dragon: No! Why would I be joking?
Dev: It’s just...well...you’re not…
The Dragon: Not what, Dev? Spit it out man!
Dev: I...ihh...crr...I’m losing...weeewu...you...caaaah...you’re breaking...crrrrs...up…
The Dragon: We’re both on WiFi it doesn’t-
CALL DISCONNECTED appears in red letters on the screen.
The Dragon: Little prick! Well I’m definitely going to try and do it now...
Part 4 - Closing Statements
However you spin it, and whoever’s doing the spinning, this was the final piece of the puzzle for me. Get this last monkey off my back and, well, what are they going to throw at me next? It’s almost like clutching at straws as it is. Tearing me down was never an easy thing. I built my walls high and I built them firm. I may carry myself with an air of invincibility, I’ve been criticised for that, but making myself robust was part of the overall plan.
The only thing missing was a main roster title. THE main roster title.
Suddenly, after this, everything goes away. You're good but you haven't won any titles. Now I have. You’ve won Blast from the Past twice but what’s the point if you don’t convert it into a championship win? Now I have. Evie carried you through, well now I won it with a rookie, so did she really, or did we both just do our part? You’ve beaten Jack once but it was in a tag match so does it even count anyway? Yes - but now I have. You don’t make enough appearances on shows...well I was too busy preparing for that title match I just won sooooo who’s the real expert here, and who hasn’t been using their time wisely? Come back to me when YOU earn YOUR shot, then we’ll talk.
Sometimes, wrestling is nothing more than two warriors going at it hammer and tongs until one of their bodies gives out. It’s beautiful, intense, visceral. It’s what you see all the time at a show in Japan. Modern day gladiator shit...but that’s actually few and far between, when you really look into it. Too many wrestlers these days, they’re weak-minded, weak-willed. They haven’t made themselves tough enough, they either haven’t developed a thick enough skin, or they haven’t swept enough things under the rug that exposes them. They get dragged into a game of verbal jousting and suddenly all these doubts start to kick in...it’s like they’ve beaten themselves before they even step in the ring, they think they might be beaten after all and just when you think you can get up to your feet and give it one more stab your subconscious mind says nope, you don’t put that shoulder up, another strike in your L column.
Jack is one big whirlwind of emotion. He acts like the whole world is against him, and that dismantling an opponent is going to make it all better somehow. I can exploit that. If I haven’t pushed his buttons enough after these few weeks, to make him come after me right out of the blocks, I’ve got more than enough tricks up my sleeve to stop him from getting his work done, to frustrate him. I’m playing on that.
All Jack’s posturing on camera, it’s a scare tactic. He wants you to believe his words, that you’re really, genuinely going to get hurt out there. He wants you to be tentative, to panic, to rush, to make a mistake. I’m playing that game in reverse. I’m not intimidated by schoolboy bullshit, but I am excited about a guy so hell-bent on causing damage to me that he gets ragged, gives me openings of my own to exploit.
I will be calm, I will be controlled, I’ll wait for him to come after me and, you know what, when he invokes his rematch clause, if such a thing exists? I’ll make it so much easier the second time. If he wasn’t pissed before, losing twice to me in two attempts, losing his title in the process? He’s probably going to forget number three is a wrestling match at all. That is...until it’s too late.
Jack has all the makings of an incredible talent, no doubt about it. It’s why he’s won it twice, and I wouldn’t put it past him locking in a death grip around that title, or whatever title he happens to want in a couple of years...but right now he’s outmatched. Talent versus talent, skill versus skill, that’s what we compete for, on paper...but we know it’s only part of the puzzle. Physical strength, muscular endurance, mental toughness, psychological advantage, tactical prowess, someone just being in the zone...countless numbers of factors that go into one big melting pot and at the end of it all comes...a result. An outcome. A winner, and a loser.
Some, you directly control. Some, you can influence with the right preparation, but it’s never totally under your fingers. A few, a complete lottery, doesn’t matter what you do, or don’t do, it’s going to impact anyway. Talent vs talent, skill vs skill...I think I give as good as I get, against any name on this roster, but it’s my overall control that counts. Good preparation, good training, good diet, good recovery, good scouting, good sleep. Ring craft, experience, a clear, focussed mind, not hell-bent on revenge, or causing injury. Incredible talent is one thing. Incredible talent wins you championships...but complete packages build memorable runs. Complete packages don’t drop their titles because “someone has the match of their life”. They roll with the punches, adapt, and find a way to leave with what’s rightfully theirs. Complete packages can’t enter Blast from the Past because they already hold the title you get a shot at. It’s time I proved that’s exactly what I am.
For any English football fans of old, I’m like the old Manchester United - The master of winning ugly. Sometimes it can’t be all super-exciting, end-to-end stuff, sometimes we have to get down in the trenches and get our hands dirty. Sometimes, my time has to be spent getting ready for battle, rather than putting on a show in front of a camera. Sometimes, you just have to do whatever you need to get the result you need. That’s why I will be the champion, and why anyone who comes for me will need more than just the performance of their life to take it away from me.
This was going to be the most fun I’d had in months. I was looking forward to testing...no...proving myself. That title was mine, it was written in the stars. Now I just had to make it a reality. I was 24 hours away from achieving greatness.