Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Mar 21, 2017 21:53:57 GMT
My father retired from wrestling when he was thirty-seven years old. August 26, 1996, the Roy Wilkins Auditorium in St. Paul. 5,500 people on hand to watch his last moment of glory. Doesn't sound like much to us, does it? After Madison Square Garden, after the Superdome, after...well, after everywhere we've been, it seems like a bad night, doesn't it?
The crowd was crammed to the rafters. 5,500 sounded like 55,000. And when the bell sounded for the final time, my dad took the microphone and explained why he was retiring. He said that he was stepping away before his body couldn't work anymore, before he lost the chance to see his children grow up and be there for them. He was a powerful man, he was stronger than just about anyone he ever stepped in the ring with...but he didn't want to lose that strength when he'd need it the most.
I think about his decision a lot. When does that point come for me? I've got less than a decade until I'm looking at that same age, and...I'm not married. I have Danielle, but...I don't have kids calling me home. I don't have that anchor pulling me back yet. But...a lot of people do. They've got families that they leave behind when they go on the road, three hundred days or more a year. Only a few people manage to get the balance right. For as much as I have problems with him as a professional, Jake Conway is devoted to his wife and daughters, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. But...for every man like Jake, there's a dozen or more that get it all wrong.
Sometimes, I worry that when push comes to shove, I'll get it all wrong. I'll throw family away for career. But...that's the future. That's what's to be, not what is. Right now, I have to look at what's before me. High Stakes. The Roulette. If I'm going to worry about my future, I need to lay the foundation in the present, and if I look at it...I know where I need to start.
I have two generations of regret riding on my shoulders. My father was never a World Champion. I was only there for a brief moment in time...and it never felt right. I never got the chance to really be on top...and it's defined me in the eyes of a lot of people, including many of my peers. They see me as the guy who never made it, the guy who choked away all of his opportunities. But...that can all change.
The Roulette opens doors, it changes lives. The main event of Night of the Immortals. A chance to etch yourself into history in a way nothing else can...and it's right there in front of me. I have to reach out and take it, I have to push myself harder and further to do it, but I CAN do it. And not only can I...I will.
I refuse to let injuries hold me back. I refuse to let my own doubts chain me down. I've been the also-ran for too long...I won't let my career slip through my hands. Night of the Immortals is calling me. The chance to erase every question that's ever haunted the Jacobsen name is within my grasp. I won't give it up now. I've come close to it not too long ago, only to fall short...but there's no time to come up short anymore. Even if they've forgotten, I will make the world remember who Andrew Jacobsen is.
One bad move, one nasty landing, and this career of mine could be over, just like that. My father got to walk away on his own terms, when he wanted to. I can't be sure of that for myself, so I need to make the most of every moment, before the aches and pains catch up to me and overwhelm me. They haven't caught me yet, and as long as I have breath in my lungs they won't.
Thirty men want that shot at Night of the Immortals. Steve Awesome and Mike Laszlo can have their pissing match all they want, Spike Kane...Spike can do whatever he plans on doing. I've got...things to say to Spike, but this isn't the place. Devlin Raine, Johnny Gillmen, Mike Laszlo, Bob Pooler...even Nighthawk...I know they want it. I know they could take it. That's why I'm going to have to throw myself into this fight like no other.
When my family's name is looked back on, I want to leave it with respect. I want to leave it with something to be proud of, a legacy of dedication and performance. I want the Jacobsen name to get the respect it deserves. Not just for me, but for my father. For anyone that comes after me. I want to do right by my family.
Because...well, without family...what are we, really?
We open on Andrew walking into a disused gym in southern Minneapolis, Minnesota, his duffel bag over his shoulder and an eyebrow raised as he inspects his surroundings. An old wrestling ring sits in the middle of the gym's floor, and to one side a series of punching bags hang from racks. Andrew's eyes quickly latch onto two large forms near the bags. One of them is unmistakably his father, Jason's still-massive seven-foot frame towering in the emptiness of the gym. It takes him a moment to identify the other short-haired man, though, as his back is turned. Andrew calls out to the two as he approaches. "Hey Dad! Who's the drill sergeant you've got there?"
The second man looks back, a grin splitting across his face as Andrew finally recognizes his older brother Rick. The Jacobsen brothers walk towards each other, meeting in the middle with a massive hug. Rick actually picks up Andrew a little as he leans into the hug, and Andrew jokingly taps out on Rick's shoulder, causing the bigger man to set him down quickly. "Sorry, Andy. Forgot about your back. About time you made it, huh?"
Andrew rolls his eyes, smirking at his older brother before his eyes flick over to Jason, who's making his way towards the duo. "Well Rick, I couldn't let you have all the fun. Dad told me about all the jaw-rattling goodness that's been going on, though, uh, not about the buzzcut. So, oh apparently-personal trainer, what's the prognosis?"
Rick shrugs, cracking his neck as Jason joins the two near the ring, and reaches back and up, patting his father's shoulder proudly. "Well, I'm proud to say he can still hit like a horse. Thankfully for us, we were never going to be doing any of that flippy stuff the smaller guys get up to, so as long as he can still lift he's got most of his toolkit intact. What were we up to on the bench press, 450?"
Jason nods, a grin on his face as Andrew's eyebrows now both shoot up. Andrew shakes his head, smiling to himself as he looks up at both men with an amused smile on his face. "Holy hell, Dad. This isn't just some fly-by-night thing, you're shoulder to the plow here. Dad—and let me preface this with the fact that I love you, Rick—if you're really committing to getting back into ring shape, why not come down to Chicago and spend some time in the Training Center? Best staff in the world, they'll get you tuned right back up."
Jason sighs, echoing deep in his chest, and reaches out, resting one massive hand on Andrew's shoulder. He looks down at his youngest son, grinning through his beard as he speaks, the bass of his voice rumbling through his frame and into Andrew. "Andy...I would love to. I would. But I decided when I got back into this that I'd stay local, and I promised your mother that I'd stay close to home. That's why I've been doing so much with Rick. It'd take something huge to change that, and I'd have to talk with her first."
Andrew nods, an understanding smile crossing his face, and he reaches up, patting his father's hand. "I understand, big man. I understand. So! Did I break your rhythm, or was I lucky enough to catch you at a break point?"
Jason waves his hand, shaking his head in the negative. "Nah, we're good. Rick, you had to make that call home to Cassie. Take the chance, I'll get Andrew acquainted with the routine." Rick nods, grabbing his cellphone from his pocket and walking towards the door. As Rick steps outside and the door swings shut, Jason's smile falls somewhat. He looks back over at Andrew, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "So..."
"So what aren't you telling Rick?" Andrew cocks an eyebrow. "You've got that look on your face, Dad. What's going on?"
"I'm not telling him the truth." Jason's shoulders slump slightly. "I really would love to come train with you. But...I didn't decide on just staying in the area. Your mother asked me to. I wanted to go back out on the road again. She didn't want me to. As much as I need to scratch the itch...it's not worth my marriage." Jason's head dips again, and he sighs, shoulders dipping again.
Andrew takes a long moment to look up at his father before he reaches up, patting the bigger man's bicep. "Hey. Look at me, Dad." Jason's head tilts up slightly, meeting Andrew's gaze. "Dad...you were here for us, but...we're all adults now. Rick's got his own family to take care of, I'm out on the road, Callie's off in New York, and...wouldn't you be happy to be able to be out there where your granddaughter can see you? Talk to Mom again. Let her know I've got your back. If you really want this, I think she'll understand."
"I was supposed to have left it all behind, Andy." Jason can barely crack a smile at his son, and his voice is laden with regret. "I had my swan song twenty years ago. I can't just come back like that, not how you're talking about it."
"Tell you what, big guy." Andrew grins. "How about this. She misses traveling, right? You sell it to Mom as...as an extended vacation. You can hit the road together again. It'll be like old times, and if I know Mom, she'll be all over it."
Jason pauses, a matching grin coming across his face. "That's manipulative. I didn't think you had it in you, Andy."
Andrew chuckles. "I am your son, after all. Now come on, let's get into the training routine again before Rick finishes his phone call."
Jason snorts derisively. "You kidding? He could turn ordering pizza into an inaugural address. We've got time...but you're right. We should get back to work."
The big man grins, reaching over and grabbing the middle rope before pulling himself onto the apron. Jason steps over the top rope and into the ring, looking back and beckoning to Andrew with his free hand. Andrew responds with a grin of his own, and he slides into the ring, springing to his feet as we fade to black on the two, father and son, standing together in the squared circle.
The crowd was crammed to the rafters. 5,500 sounded like 55,000. And when the bell sounded for the final time, my dad took the microphone and explained why he was retiring. He said that he was stepping away before his body couldn't work anymore, before he lost the chance to see his children grow up and be there for them. He was a powerful man, he was stronger than just about anyone he ever stepped in the ring with...but he didn't want to lose that strength when he'd need it the most.
I think about his decision a lot. When does that point come for me? I've got less than a decade until I'm looking at that same age, and...I'm not married. I have Danielle, but...I don't have kids calling me home. I don't have that anchor pulling me back yet. But...a lot of people do. They've got families that they leave behind when they go on the road, three hundred days or more a year. Only a few people manage to get the balance right. For as much as I have problems with him as a professional, Jake Conway is devoted to his wife and daughters, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. But...for every man like Jake, there's a dozen or more that get it all wrong.
Sometimes, I worry that when push comes to shove, I'll get it all wrong. I'll throw family away for career. But...that's the future. That's what's to be, not what is. Right now, I have to look at what's before me. High Stakes. The Roulette. If I'm going to worry about my future, I need to lay the foundation in the present, and if I look at it...I know where I need to start.
I have two generations of regret riding on my shoulders. My father was never a World Champion. I was only there for a brief moment in time...and it never felt right. I never got the chance to really be on top...and it's defined me in the eyes of a lot of people, including many of my peers. They see me as the guy who never made it, the guy who choked away all of his opportunities. But...that can all change.
The Roulette opens doors, it changes lives. The main event of Night of the Immortals. A chance to etch yourself into history in a way nothing else can...and it's right there in front of me. I have to reach out and take it, I have to push myself harder and further to do it, but I CAN do it. And not only can I...I will.
I refuse to let injuries hold me back. I refuse to let my own doubts chain me down. I've been the also-ran for too long...I won't let my career slip through my hands. Night of the Immortals is calling me. The chance to erase every question that's ever haunted the Jacobsen name is within my grasp. I won't give it up now. I've come close to it not too long ago, only to fall short...but there's no time to come up short anymore. Even if they've forgotten, I will make the world remember who Andrew Jacobsen is.
One bad move, one nasty landing, and this career of mine could be over, just like that. My father got to walk away on his own terms, when he wanted to. I can't be sure of that for myself, so I need to make the most of every moment, before the aches and pains catch up to me and overwhelm me. They haven't caught me yet, and as long as I have breath in my lungs they won't.
Thirty men want that shot at Night of the Immortals. Steve Awesome and Mike Laszlo can have their pissing match all they want, Spike Kane...Spike can do whatever he plans on doing. I've got...things to say to Spike, but this isn't the place. Devlin Raine, Johnny Gillmen, Mike Laszlo, Bob Pooler...even Nighthawk...I know they want it. I know they could take it. That's why I'm going to have to throw myself into this fight like no other.
When my family's name is looked back on, I want to leave it with respect. I want to leave it with something to be proud of, a legacy of dedication and performance. I want the Jacobsen name to get the respect it deserves. Not just for me, but for my father. For anyone that comes after me. I want to do right by my family.
Because...well, without family...what are we, really?
We open on Andrew walking into a disused gym in southern Minneapolis, Minnesota, his duffel bag over his shoulder and an eyebrow raised as he inspects his surroundings. An old wrestling ring sits in the middle of the gym's floor, and to one side a series of punching bags hang from racks. Andrew's eyes quickly latch onto two large forms near the bags. One of them is unmistakably his father, Jason's still-massive seven-foot frame towering in the emptiness of the gym. It takes him a moment to identify the other short-haired man, though, as his back is turned. Andrew calls out to the two as he approaches. "Hey Dad! Who's the drill sergeant you've got there?"
The second man looks back, a grin splitting across his face as Andrew finally recognizes his older brother Rick. The Jacobsen brothers walk towards each other, meeting in the middle with a massive hug. Rick actually picks up Andrew a little as he leans into the hug, and Andrew jokingly taps out on Rick's shoulder, causing the bigger man to set him down quickly. "Sorry, Andy. Forgot about your back. About time you made it, huh?"
Andrew rolls his eyes, smirking at his older brother before his eyes flick over to Jason, who's making his way towards the duo. "Well Rick, I couldn't let you have all the fun. Dad told me about all the jaw-rattling goodness that's been going on, though, uh, not about the buzzcut. So, oh apparently-personal trainer, what's the prognosis?"
Rick shrugs, cracking his neck as Jason joins the two near the ring, and reaches back and up, patting his father's shoulder proudly. "Well, I'm proud to say he can still hit like a horse. Thankfully for us, we were never going to be doing any of that flippy stuff the smaller guys get up to, so as long as he can still lift he's got most of his toolkit intact. What were we up to on the bench press, 450?"
Jason nods, a grin on his face as Andrew's eyebrows now both shoot up. Andrew shakes his head, smiling to himself as he looks up at both men with an amused smile on his face. "Holy hell, Dad. This isn't just some fly-by-night thing, you're shoulder to the plow here. Dad—and let me preface this with the fact that I love you, Rick—if you're really committing to getting back into ring shape, why not come down to Chicago and spend some time in the Training Center? Best staff in the world, they'll get you tuned right back up."
Jason sighs, echoing deep in his chest, and reaches out, resting one massive hand on Andrew's shoulder. He looks down at his youngest son, grinning through his beard as he speaks, the bass of his voice rumbling through his frame and into Andrew. "Andy...I would love to. I would. But I decided when I got back into this that I'd stay local, and I promised your mother that I'd stay close to home. That's why I've been doing so much with Rick. It'd take something huge to change that, and I'd have to talk with her first."
Andrew nods, an understanding smile crossing his face, and he reaches up, patting his father's hand. "I understand, big man. I understand. So! Did I break your rhythm, or was I lucky enough to catch you at a break point?"
Jason waves his hand, shaking his head in the negative. "Nah, we're good. Rick, you had to make that call home to Cassie. Take the chance, I'll get Andrew acquainted with the routine." Rick nods, grabbing his cellphone from his pocket and walking towards the door. As Rick steps outside and the door swings shut, Jason's smile falls somewhat. He looks back over at Andrew, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "So..."
"So what aren't you telling Rick?" Andrew cocks an eyebrow. "You've got that look on your face, Dad. What's going on?"
"I'm not telling him the truth." Jason's shoulders slump slightly. "I really would love to come train with you. But...I didn't decide on just staying in the area. Your mother asked me to. I wanted to go back out on the road again. She didn't want me to. As much as I need to scratch the itch...it's not worth my marriage." Jason's head dips again, and he sighs, shoulders dipping again.
Andrew takes a long moment to look up at his father before he reaches up, patting the bigger man's bicep. "Hey. Look at me, Dad." Jason's head tilts up slightly, meeting Andrew's gaze. "Dad...you were here for us, but...we're all adults now. Rick's got his own family to take care of, I'm out on the road, Callie's off in New York, and...wouldn't you be happy to be able to be out there where your granddaughter can see you? Talk to Mom again. Let her know I've got your back. If you really want this, I think she'll understand."
"I was supposed to have left it all behind, Andy." Jason can barely crack a smile at his son, and his voice is laden with regret. "I had my swan song twenty years ago. I can't just come back like that, not how you're talking about it."
"Tell you what, big guy." Andrew grins. "How about this. She misses traveling, right? You sell it to Mom as...as an extended vacation. You can hit the road together again. It'll be like old times, and if I know Mom, she'll be all over it."
Jason pauses, a matching grin coming across his face. "That's manipulative. I didn't think you had it in you, Andy."
Andrew chuckles. "I am your son, after all. Now come on, let's get into the training routine again before Rick finishes his phone call."
Jason snorts derisively. "You kidding? He could turn ordering pizza into an inaugural address. We've got time...but you're right. We should get back to work."
The big man grins, reaching over and grabbing the middle rope before pulling himself onto the apron. Jason steps over the top rope and into the ring, looking back and beckoning to Andrew with his free hand. Andrew responds with a grin of his own, and he slides into the ring, springing to his feet as we fade to black on the two, father and son, standing together in the squared circle.
Well howdy there pardner.