Chapter 01: A jobbers struggle
I knew when I started wrestling that it wasn't going to be easy. But I never expected it to be this hard. The long hours, the endless travel, the constant injuries - it's all taken a toll on me. And the worst part is, no matter how hard I work, no matter how much I train, I can't seem to get ahead. I'm stuck in this rut, working as a jobber for a mid-tier promotion, while my dreams of becoming a wrestling legend slip further and further away.
As I was thinking about this suddenly i heard,
"Alright, Alex, your match is up next," the promoter said, patting me on the back.
I nodded, trying to hide my nerves. This wasn't my first match, but it might as well have been. I had never felt so unprepared, so out of my depth.
As I made my way to the ring, I could feel the eyes of the crowd on me. They didn't know who I was, and they didn't care. They were here to see their favorites - the stars of the promotion, the ones who had made a name for themselves.
The bell rang, and my opponent, a towering figure with bulging muscles, charged at me. I tried to dodge, but he caught me with a big boot that sent me crashing to the mat. The crowd laughed and jeered as he picked me up by the hair and delivered a few more punishing blows.
I struggled to get up, but he slammed me back down with a body slam. He then whipped me into the ropes and hit me with a clothesline that sent me flying out of the ring. I landed hard on the floor and writhed in pain as the referee counted.
The audience chanted "You suck! You suck!" as I struggled to make my way back into the ring. But as soon as I climbed onto the apron, my opponent kicked me in the gut and sent me tumbling back out.
This went on for several more minutes, with my opponent dominating the match and me barely able to get any offense in. He hit me with a series of power moves and submission holds that left me battered and bruised.
Finally, he hit me with a finishing move and pinned me down for the three-count. The audience cheered as he celebrated his victory, while I lay in the ring, defeated and humiliated.
As I stumbled back to the locker room, I could hear the whispers of the fans. They had seen me put up a pathetic fight, and I was just another jobber, another nameless wrestler who would never make it in the business.
But I refused to give up. I knew that I had to work harder, train longer, and never stop fighting. Maybe I wasn't a wrestling legend yet, but I was determined to become one.
The crowd cheered as he celebrated his victory, but I was left lying in the ring, defeated and broken.
As I slowly made my way back to the locker room, I could hear the whispers of the fans. They had seen me put up a fight, but it wasn't enough. I was just another jobber, another nameless wrestler who would fade into obscurity.
And As I stepped into the dimly-lit locker room, I could feel the aches and pains of the match pulsating through my body. I had just been demolished by a wrestler who was leagues above me in terms of skill and size. But that wasn't the worst part. As a jobber, my pay was barely enough to cover the rent on my dingy apartment, let alone my other expenses.
I sank down onto a bench and took a swig from my water bottle. I couldn't afford any fancy energy drinks or protein shakes like the top wrestlers could. I had to make do with what little money I had.
It wasn't just the lack of money that made being a jobber so tough. It was the constant rejection, the feeling of being invisible in a world of larger-than-life personalities. Every time I stepped into the ring, I knew that the odds were against me. The odds of me winning were slim to none.
But I refused to give up. I was determined to make it in the wrestling world, no matter what the cost. I spent hours in the gym, lifting weights and practicing my moves. I studied tapes of other wrestlers, trying to learn from their techniques and strategies.
But even with all the training, I knew that I was at a disadvantage. I didn't have the luxury of a personal trainer or a nutritionist. I had to make do with cheap fast food and whatever was on sale at the grocery store.
It was a constant struggle to pay my bills and put food on the table. I had to take on odd jobs just to make ends meet. Sometimes, I worked as a waiter, sometimes as a janitor. It was humiliating, but it was the only way I could keep my dream alive.
The wrestling company I was working for was a small one, based in a country town with only a few thousand viewers. It wasn't exactly the big leagues, but it was a start. I knew that if I could make a name for myself here, I might be able to move up to bigger and better things.
But for now, I had to focus on surviving. I spent my days doing house chores and training, trying to stay in shape for my next match. I cooked my own meals, trying to make them as healthy as possible on a shoestring budget.
It was a tough life, but I knew that it was worth it. I refused to let my dreams die, even in the face of constant rejection and humiliation. Someday, I would make it to the top of the wrestling world, no matter how long it took.