Post by logansky on Apr 9, 2024 4:28:10 GMT
“Things were goin well. Great even. Billy and I were getting noticed. I was staying away from the pills. Keeping in touch with my sponsor. Calling up my kids every night. Living large. For 10 months I was living the dream. But then we got to the semi-finals of the tournament. The other guy… nah, I’m not gonna cast blame. What happened happened. I got injured again. My knee. I knew right away this time. Ripped up my ACL’s to shreds.”
He sighed and shook his head.
“The doctors there, they gave me morphine when I was out of surgery. Didn’t know. We didn’t really talk about it much back then. But I tried to power through. Talked with my sponsors. But the pain. It was so bad. Looking back now, I think I know that was just the addict in me. Maybe. Hard to say, ya know?”
His body shuddered with the sigh that escaped him.
“So I started using again. At first it was for the pain. That’s what I told myself. We lost the tournament, obviously. But we got some eyes on us. We were told that we had a shot at the big time. So we hit the circuits again. Always trying to reach that pinnacle. But all the time I was on the pills. I started missing things. Birthdays, school events, anniversaries. Maggie, she put up with it for a while. But eventually even she had enough.”
He clasped his hands in front of him, staring at the floor for a long time. The silence stretched out and eventually the moderator had to clear their throat to get his attention. He shook himself and sighed.
“I didn’t contest it. If I am being honest with myself I was too high to notice. House, kids, everything. Honestly I was living out of my car or hotels for a couple of years there. I never made it. The pills I think. I don’t know. Maybe I just wasn’t good enough. I drifted away from my kids. My folks died and I didn’t even make it to either of their funerals. It was the road and the pills for me. Nothing else really mattered.
I had moments of trying to get clean, but they never really stuck. I was dipping into some other stuff too. A bachelor on the road. No constraints on my time. I could wrestle and party and fuck as much as I wanted. Living the dream they said. Didn’t even notice as my body started to fail me. That I didn’t have anyone really that cared. Even Billy Butcher left me behind.”
He sighed and lifted his head, looking around at the gathered members of the meeting.
“So Rock Bottom. That’s always what they talk about right. I had been clean for a whole year. The first time since Timmy was born. Maggie and I, we were talking. Timmy… well Tim now. He was messaging me too. Things were. Well they were going well. Until they werent.”
He looks at his hands as a solitary tear slipped free from his eye.
“Cancer again. Maggie had Lymphotic cancer or something like that. I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. Timmy called and told me.”
His head dropped down again and a small sad sound escaped him.
“I don’t know why she didn’t tell me. Maybe that was the reason she was talking to me. Didn’t have anything to lose.”
Silence filled the room as he rubbed his hands together.
“I couldn’t find any pills. So I did the next best thing. Heroin. I dabbled from time to time, of course. But nothing like this. It wasn’t like Pulp Fiction. I wish it was.
I don’t remember what happened. I had to be told later. To see it on footage. I showed up to her funeral, covered in blood and sweat and who knows what else. Crying, raging. Making a damn fool of myself.”
His knuckles turned white as he clenched his hands into fists. The soft pops of his old joints under the stress.
“I knocked her damn casket over. Like out of a movie, right?” He barked out a mirthless laugh that fell quickly into a sob.
“That was 5 years ago. Abbie answers the phone sometimes. I ain’t heard from Timmy at all.That was my rock bottom. That was when I truly lost everything. That was the final boot in the ass.”
His breath is a loud, ragged shudder.
“Been clean since. Couple of folks have reconnected. Billy for instance. Not my kids. Not yet. I hope so. God I hope so much that I can make it up to them. But I may die without hearing from my Tim again. Without hearing my Angel with pride in her voice. Wouldn’t blame them for an instant.
But I hope. I hope so hard. That’s what pushes me. Helps keep me steady. I got grandbabies I ain’t even met yet. But I’d like to. But it gets so hard, friends. My body hurts so much right now. I want that distance. But that comes at a cost. I can’t be distant from things when I want to be close to my family.”
He shakes himself and lets out a groan.
“Thanks for the time, friends. Means the world.”
~_~
Our scene opens this time with Logan Paul laying on a table in the middle of a cupping therapy session. He takes slow, even breaths as the cups are placed on his body and heated up before being left in place.
“I’m gonna be honest with you all out there. I’m hurtin. It’s no secret that I ain’t as young as I used to be. It takes longer to recover these days. I ain’t had the time to rest. I keep on trucking. Between the hardcore match with Nicky Knight, to fighting the human bull they call Tytus, to the Roulette.”
A long sigh escapes him as another cup is placed on his thigh. He shifts in place on the table before lifting his head to look at the camera.
“Roulette might be the highlight of my career here. I got an elimination, which is damn sure better than anyone thought I would do. I think taking Nicky to the limit might stand out more, but stats are what the sheets care about, so that’s what we work with.”
The therapist finishes up their work, checking in with Logan before walking out. He takes another long, shaking breath before he looks to the camera once more.
“But the Machine keeps on trucking. Oh the gears will squeal a bit. There’s a knocking noise somewhere that you ain’t sure about. But it keeps on working. I keep on working. I keep on showing my love for this sport. How I’m willing to give up my sweat, blood and tears for it.”
He rests his head on the table, the heavy breath that escapes him shaking his body. He shifts so that his arms hang down over the side before lifting his head to rest his chin on the surface.
“Billie, I know your ma. Worked with her a few times. She'd be proud of you, son. You’ve been around this business all your life. But I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been alive. I’m about to teach you the sort of things you can’t learn from watching. You can’t pick this up talking to workers or ring hands. I’m gonna teach you the sort of thing that you have to experience. That you have to live. Pay close attention, son. I’m only gonna tell you this once.”
He sighed and shook his head.
“The doctors there, they gave me morphine when I was out of surgery. Didn’t know. We didn’t really talk about it much back then. But I tried to power through. Talked with my sponsors. But the pain. It was so bad. Looking back now, I think I know that was just the addict in me. Maybe. Hard to say, ya know?”
His body shuddered with the sigh that escaped him.
“So I started using again. At first it was for the pain. That’s what I told myself. We lost the tournament, obviously. But we got some eyes on us. We were told that we had a shot at the big time. So we hit the circuits again. Always trying to reach that pinnacle. But all the time I was on the pills. I started missing things. Birthdays, school events, anniversaries. Maggie, she put up with it for a while. But eventually even she had enough.”
He clasped his hands in front of him, staring at the floor for a long time. The silence stretched out and eventually the moderator had to clear their throat to get his attention. He shook himself and sighed.
“I didn’t contest it. If I am being honest with myself I was too high to notice. House, kids, everything. Honestly I was living out of my car or hotels for a couple of years there. I never made it. The pills I think. I don’t know. Maybe I just wasn’t good enough. I drifted away from my kids. My folks died and I didn’t even make it to either of their funerals. It was the road and the pills for me. Nothing else really mattered.
I had moments of trying to get clean, but they never really stuck. I was dipping into some other stuff too. A bachelor on the road. No constraints on my time. I could wrestle and party and fuck as much as I wanted. Living the dream they said. Didn’t even notice as my body started to fail me. That I didn’t have anyone really that cared. Even Billy Butcher left me behind.”
He sighed and lifted his head, looking around at the gathered members of the meeting.
“So Rock Bottom. That’s always what they talk about right. I had been clean for a whole year. The first time since Timmy was born. Maggie and I, we were talking. Timmy… well Tim now. He was messaging me too. Things were. Well they were going well. Until they werent.”
He looks at his hands as a solitary tear slipped free from his eye.
“Cancer again. Maggie had Lymphotic cancer or something like that. I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. Timmy called and told me.”
His head dropped down again and a small sad sound escaped him.
“I don’t know why she didn’t tell me. Maybe that was the reason she was talking to me. Didn’t have anything to lose.”
Silence filled the room as he rubbed his hands together.
“I couldn’t find any pills. So I did the next best thing. Heroin. I dabbled from time to time, of course. But nothing like this. It wasn’t like Pulp Fiction. I wish it was.
I don’t remember what happened. I had to be told later. To see it on footage. I showed up to her funeral, covered in blood and sweat and who knows what else. Crying, raging. Making a damn fool of myself.”
His knuckles turned white as he clenched his hands into fists. The soft pops of his old joints under the stress.
“I knocked her damn casket over. Like out of a movie, right?” He barked out a mirthless laugh that fell quickly into a sob.
“That was 5 years ago. Abbie answers the phone sometimes. I ain’t heard from Timmy at all.That was my rock bottom. That was when I truly lost everything. That was the final boot in the ass.”
His breath is a loud, ragged shudder.
“Been clean since. Couple of folks have reconnected. Billy for instance. Not my kids. Not yet. I hope so. God I hope so much that I can make it up to them. But I may die without hearing from my Tim again. Without hearing my Angel with pride in her voice. Wouldn’t blame them for an instant.
But I hope. I hope so hard. That’s what pushes me. Helps keep me steady. I got grandbabies I ain’t even met yet. But I’d like to. But it gets so hard, friends. My body hurts so much right now. I want that distance. But that comes at a cost. I can’t be distant from things when I want to be close to my family.”
He shakes himself and lets out a groan.
“Thanks for the time, friends. Means the world.”
~_~
Our scene opens this time with Logan Paul laying on a table in the middle of a cupping therapy session. He takes slow, even breaths as the cups are placed on his body and heated up before being left in place.
“I’m gonna be honest with you all out there. I’m hurtin. It’s no secret that I ain’t as young as I used to be. It takes longer to recover these days. I ain’t had the time to rest. I keep on trucking. Between the hardcore match with Nicky Knight, to fighting the human bull they call Tytus, to the Roulette.”
A long sigh escapes him as another cup is placed on his thigh. He shifts in place on the table before lifting his head to look at the camera.
“Roulette might be the highlight of my career here. I got an elimination, which is damn sure better than anyone thought I would do. I think taking Nicky to the limit might stand out more, but stats are what the sheets care about, so that’s what we work with.”
The therapist finishes up their work, checking in with Logan before walking out. He takes another long, shaking breath before he looks to the camera once more.
“But the Machine keeps on trucking. Oh the gears will squeal a bit. There’s a knocking noise somewhere that you ain’t sure about. But it keeps on working. I keep on working. I keep on showing my love for this sport. How I’m willing to give up my sweat, blood and tears for it.”
He rests his head on the table, the heavy breath that escapes him shaking his body. He shifts so that his arms hang down over the side before lifting his head to rest his chin on the surface.
“Billie, I know your ma. Worked with her a few times. She'd be proud of you, son. You’ve been around this business all your life. But I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been alive. I’m about to teach you the sort of things you can’t learn from watching. You can’t pick this up talking to workers or ring hands. I’m gonna teach you the sort of thing that you have to experience. That you have to live. Pay close attention, son. I’m only gonna tell you this once.”
Well howdy there pardner.