Post by Jake Keeton on Dec 20, 2023 0:16:36 GMT -5
November 23rd, 2023
The Keeton family were sitting around the kitchen table preparing to have Thanksgiving dinner. Jake is carving the turkey. His wife Kassie, a pretty blonde physical therapist who Jake married in 2009, is serving the mashed potatoes. His son JC, a fellow pro wrestler, is tapping away on his phone. Jake's mother Katherine, is sipping her wine when she looks lovingly at her son and speaks to him in her sassy southern tone.
Katherine: Jake, honey, the girls down at the beauty shop said they saw you wrestling again. Son, are you sure you want to go back to wrestling? You've had both knees replaced and it's been years since you stepped away.
Jake glanced up from the turkey to see a look of worry on his mother's face while Kassie had the same look but also a hint of anger. JC just smirked. Jake had tried to hide it from the two ladies but he knew they'd eventually have to have this conversation.
Jake: Mom, I appreciate your concern, but this is what I love to do. I've been training hard and I'm in the best shape of my life. I know people say that just for reassurance but I mean it, I feel better at 47 than 30. My knees are less likely to get injured than they were before according to the Doc. He said it's just metal and plastic in there so we can just swap out parts like working on a car.
His joke fell flat.
Kassie: Jake, I support you, but I'm also worried about you. You're not a young man anymore and the risk of injury is higher at your age but I also know how stubborn and determined you are to do something once you've set your mind to it. What pisses me off though is that you hid it from us this whole time. Did you think we wouldn't find out? I mean when you said the reason you've been working out so hard was just to feel better about yourself I knew you were full of it. You've been training like a mad man for six months.
Jake: That really was the reason I started getting back in shape but then I saw the kind of success that guys like Knox and Page are having in their 40s and 50s and it gave me that spark back to make one more real run. You all know those last three years I worked I was held back cause I wasn't in the good ole boys club that were and still are the only ones to get opportunities in the place I was in back then.
Finally catching his attention, JC chimes in as Jake puts one of the drumsticks on his plate.
JC: Ain't that the damn truth.
Jake: At least they put their big belt on you, I never even got a shot.
JC: Yeah but I had to work twice as hard as I should have to get it cause I wasn't in that good ole boys club either.
JC took a big bite of the turkey leg while Kassie addressed him.
Kassie: Oh I'm sure you've been in on the whole thing and probably encouraged this old fool.
While her comment had a light hearted tone the words hit Jake wrong but he refrained from responding to avoid an argument.
JC: I didn't know nothing.
Katherine sat her wine glass down and pointed a slightly chubby, wrinkled index finger at her grandson.
Katherine: Jonathan Cade Keeton! Don't you sit there and lie right to your step mother's face and don't talk with food in your mouth. I helped to raise you better than that.
He starts to speak again but realizes he's still chewing and swallows quickly.
JC: Sorry Grandma.
Jake: JC, son, I appreciate you keeping it to yourself for as long as you did but she's right. Ain't no sense in lying and I should have told y'all as soon as I decided I really wanted to see if I could still go out there and perform to the standard I set for twenty years.
Kassie put her hand on his.
Kassie: Baby, you don't have to prove anything to anyone. You've already accomplished so much. You're a legend. You're a hall of famer. You're a star. You have nothing left to prove.
Jake: I love you Kass, but you don't understand. I have to prove it to myself. I have to prove that I still have it. That I'm not washed up. That I'm not a has-been. That I'm not just some old fool. I have to prove that I'm still the man and I'm as good as I always was.
Kassie: Jake, I'm sorry I shouldn't have called you an old fool. You are the man. You're my man. And I love you too. But I don't want to lose you. I don't want to see you get hurt. I don't want to see you suffer. I guess it's cause I work in healthcare and I know the toll it takes on your body.
Jake: Kassie, you remember a couple years after we got married and I tried to get you to stop working cause we didn't need the money but you said it wasn't about the money and you wanted to keep working because physical therapy was your calling? Well wrestling is mine and for seven years I didn't have it. It was fun living vicariously through Jon and watching his incredible journey, but part of me was missing. When the doctor told me that I had full clearance to get back in the ring it was like…
A loud knock at the front door cuts Jake off mid sentence.
Jake: Who could that be?
Kassie: I don't know, your Aunt Gladys said she couldn't make it. Maybe it's the neighbors, Kayla said something about bringing over a pie.
Jake gets up from the table and walks to the door. He opens it and sees a young man standing on the porch. He's short but a little taller than Jake. He’s thin but athletic looking with dark hair and green eyes. He's wearing a beat up leather jacket over a hoodie and jeans. He smiles nervously.
Jake: Chance?
Chance: Howdy, Coach.
Chance Warner was a rookie wrestler who originally enrolled in Matt Knox's Corvid Combat Academy. When Knox purchased the Keeton's family gym and training center, Power Surge Performance, he sent Chance to train there with Jake so he'd be closer to his home in Tennessee.
Jake: What are you doing here?
Chance: I thought y'all might have an extra seat at the table for Thanksgiving dinner.
He pauses and sniffs, the scents of all the food from inside the house permeates his nostrils.
Chance: Sure smells mighty good.
Jake: Well, we got plenty so I don't guess it'd hurt anything. I figured you'd go home for Thanksgiving. Don't you want to see your family?
Chance glanced at the ground then back up at Jake.
Chance: That's what I'm doin, Coach.
Jake: What do you mean?
The young man swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
Chance: You're my Dad.
The scene fades.
A few weeks later…
“Pan… Pan… . Pan.”
His words echoed through the chilly December night as he walked along the bank of the lake on his property. While he walked and talked he tossed pebbles into the lake causing ripples to form on the surface of the water disturbing the moons reflection upon it.
“I would tell you to be careful what you wish for but I'm sure you probably breathed a sigh of relief when I walked out to answer your challenge. I don't blame ya, kid. If I was a young, hungry, up and coming star in the pro wrestling business I'd feel pretty confident if my call out was accepted by an old man one match back after seven years on the couch that I pinned a month prior. Dirt sheets are saying it's the most winnable match you could have got at Winter Wrestleland cause for as much as they hyped me coming out of retirement they were really damn quick to write me off as washed after one loss.”
He laughs lightly, tossing another pebble into the water with a tiny “plunk".
"I been doing this since before the internet, Twitter, and dirt sheets existed. When they did start popping up they were all quick to bury me every chance they got. In the late 90s and early 2000s no one took a 5’9” 175lb guy serious. They said things like I'd never make it past the mid card cause that was the ceiling for guys my size or that if I was six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier I'd be one of the best ever. Well I got a trophy room full of championships, this or that of the year awards, and hall of fame plaques to show that I defied their BS predictions to become just that…"
He pauses.
“One of the best ever. Lemme say it again… one of the best ever. I don't think you realize what a feather in your cap it is to be able to say you pinned Jake Keeton. Sure there's gonna be plenty of people who discredit your accomplishment because of my age and ring rust but it'll mean a lot more when I shake the rust off and I'm back rubbing elbows with the top guys in TPW and not bottom feeding novelty acts like you. Regardless of whether you end being what I think you're gonna be and that's a flash in the pan, pun intended, or a bonafide superstar you'll always be able to say you pinned eleven time World Champion Jake Keeton. Once, cause it ain't happening again. Sunshine, dogs ass, you know the rest.”
The hoot of an owl stops him in his tracks. He looks in the direction the sound came from and cups his hands around his mouth.
“Who! Who! Who!"
Not even a second passes before the owl hoots back.
"I've been talking to this owl for a while now. I really hope it's not some asshole on the other side of the lake laughing at my dumbass like the Bert Krisher bit.”
His hearty laugh reverberated off the water and the owl hooted once again.
“Now where were we… ‘’
The smile fades and he bends down and picks up another handful of pebbles to toss in the water as he walks along the bank.
“Jokes are done. From what I've seen of you Pan you're not a very serious kind of guy but it's time to get serious, deadly serious. I don't know what you are but I know I don't believe all this fairytale nonsense you got going on. At the end of the day you're still flesh and bone just like anyone else I've ever stepped in the ring with. Flesh tears. Bones break. Yours ain't no different. Maybe you can sprinkle some pixie dust on it and it'll work the same as rubbing dirt on it does around these parts but there's no third wheel this time to keep the attention off you so you're getting hurt. That's unavoidable. You got half my attention the first time but you get it all this time.”
There's a rustling in the bushes as Jake walks past and a tiny rabbit hops out.
“Speaking of getting someone's attention you've been begging for some attention from JMont since you walked through the doors here. I don't know the guy, but I know the type and you ain't on his level. He sees you and he hears you he just doesn't care about you. He's so much higher up the pecking order when he looks down you look like a piss ant and your screams sound like faint whispers. Your insistence on talking about him is a slap in the face to the people you should be focused on.”
He sighs, his breath visible as it dances into the cold night sky then fades away just as quickly as it appeared.
“They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression but I'm not satisfied with the first impression I left on TPW. Winter Wrestleland is my do over. I can't erase the loss but I can make people forget it by putting on a match they'll be talking about stealing an absolutely loaded show. Then get used to it happening on a regular basis. Pan… “
One final laugh echoes through the pitch black sky.
" You're just the start.”
The Keeton family were sitting around the kitchen table preparing to have Thanksgiving dinner. Jake is carving the turkey. His wife Kassie, a pretty blonde physical therapist who Jake married in 2009, is serving the mashed potatoes. His son JC, a fellow pro wrestler, is tapping away on his phone. Jake's mother Katherine, is sipping her wine when she looks lovingly at her son and speaks to him in her sassy southern tone.
Katherine: Jake, honey, the girls down at the beauty shop said they saw you wrestling again. Son, are you sure you want to go back to wrestling? You've had both knees replaced and it's been years since you stepped away.
Jake glanced up from the turkey to see a look of worry on his mother's face while Kassie had the same look but also a hint of anger. JC just smirked. Jake had tried to hide it from the two ladies but he knew they'd eventually have to have this conversation.
Jake: Mom, I appreciate your concern, but this is what I love to do. I've been training hard and I'm in the best shape of my life. I know people say that just for reassurance but I mean it, I feel better at 47 than 30. My knees are less likely to get injured than they were before according to the Doc. He said it's just metal and plastic in there so we can just swap out parts like working on a car.
His joke fell flat.
Kassie: Jake, I support you, but I'm also worried about you. You're not a young man anymore and the risk of injury is higher at your age but I also know how stubborn and determined you are to do something once you've set your mind to it. What pisses me off though is that you hid it from us this whole time. Did you think we wouldn't find out? I mean when you said the reason you've been working out so hard was just to feel better about yourself I knew you were full of it. You've been training like a mad man for six months.
Jake: That really was the reason I started getting back in shape but then I saw the kind of success that guys like Knox and Page are having in their 40s and 50s and it gave me that spark back to make one more real run. You all know those last three years I worked I was held back cause I wasn't in the good ole boys club that were and still are the only ones to get opportunities in the place I was in back then.
Finally catching his attention, JC chimes in as Jake puts one of the drumsticks on his plate.
JC: Ain't that the damn truth.
Jake: At least they put their big belt on you, I never even got a shot.
JC: Yeah but I had to work twice as hard as I should have to get it cause I wasn't in that good ole boys club either.
JC took a big bite of the turkey leg while Kassie addressed him.
Kassie: Oh I'm sure you've been in on the whole thing and probably encouraged this old fool.
While her comment had a light hearted tone the words hit Jake wrong but he refrained from responding to avoid an argument.
JC: I didn't know nothing.
Katherine sat her wine glass down and pointed a slightly chubby, wrinkled index finger at her grandson.
Katherine: Jonathan Cade Keeton! Don't you sit there and lie right to your step mother's face and don't talk with food in your mouth. I helped to raise you better than that.
He starts to speak again but realizes he's still chewing and swallows quickly.
JC: Sorry Grandma.
Jake: JC, son, I appreciate you keeping it to yourself for as long as you did but she's right. Ain't no sense in lying and I should have told y'all as soon as I decided I really wanted to see if I could still go out there and perform to the standard I set for twenty years.
Kassie put her hand on his.
Kassie: Baby, you don't have to prove anything to anyone. You've already accomplished so much. You're a legend. You're a hall of famer. You're a star. You have nothing left to prove.
Jake: I love you Kass, but you don't understand. I have to prove it to myself. I have to prove that I still have it. That I'm not washed up. That I'm not a has-been. That I'm not just some old fool. I have to prove that I'm still the man and I'm as good as I always was.
Kassie: Jake, I'm sorry I shouldn't have called you an old fool. You are the man. You're my man. And I love you too. But I don't want to lose you. I don't want to see you get hurt. I don't want to see you suffer. I guess it's cause I work in healthcare and I know the toll it takes on your body.
Jake: Kassie, you remember a couple years after we got married and I tried to get you to stop working cause we didn't need the money but you said it wasn't about the money and you wanted to keep working because physical therapy was your calling? Well wrestling is mine and for seven years I didn't have it. It was fun living vicariously through Jon and watching his incredible journey, but part of me was missing. When the doctor told me that I had full clearance to get back in the ring it was like…
A loud knock at the front door cuts Jake off mid sentence.
Jake: Who could that be?
Kassie: I don't know, your Aunt Gladys said she couldn't make it. Maybe it's the neighbors, Kayla said something about bringing over a pie.
Jake gets up from the table and walks to the door. He opens it and sees a young man standing on the porch. He's short but a little taller than Jake. He’s thin but athletic looking with dark hair and green eyes. He's wearing a beat up leather jacket over a hoodie and jeans. He smiles nervously.
Jake: Chance?
Chance: Howdy, Coach.
Chance Warner was a rookie wrestler who originally enrolled in Matt Knox's Corvid Combat Academy. When Knox purchased the Keeton's family gym and training center, Power Surge Performance, he sent Chance to train there with Jake so he'd be closer to his home in Tennessee.
Jake: What are you doing here?
Chance: I thought y'all might have an extra seat at the table for Thanksgiving dinner.
He pauses and sniffs, the scents of all the food from inside the house permeates his nostrils.
Chance: Sure smells mighty good.
Jake: Well, we got plenty so I don't guess it'd hurt anything. I figured you'd go home for Thanksgiving. Don't you want to see your family?
Chance glanced at the ground then back up at Jake.
Chance: That's what I'm doin, Coach.
Jake: What do you mean?
The young man swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
Chance: You're my Dad.
The scene fades.
A few weeks later…
“Pan… Pan… . Pan.”
His words echoed through the chilly December night as he walked along the bank of the lake on his property. While he walked and talked he tossed pebbles into the lake causing ripples to form on the surface of the water disturbing the moons reflection upon it.
“I would tell you to be careful what you wish for but I'm sure you probably breathed a sigh of relief when I walked out to answer your challenge. I don't blame ya, kid. If I was a young, hungry, up and coming star in the pro wrestling business I'd feel pretty confident if my call out was accepted by an old man one match back after seven years on the couch that I pinned a month prior. Dirt sheets are saying it's the most winnable match you could have got at Winter Wrestleland cause for as much as they hyped me coming out of retirement they were really damn quick to write me off as washed after one loss.”
He laughs lightly, tossing another pebble into the water with a tiny “plunk".
"I been doing this since before the internet, Twitter, and dirt sheets existed. When they did start popping up they were all quick to bury me every chance they got. In the late 90s and early 2000s no one took a 5’9” 175lb guy serious. They said things like I'd never make it past the mid card cause that was the ceiling for guys my size or that if I was six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier I'd be one of the best ever. Well I got a trophy room full of championships, this or that of the year awards, and hall of fame plaques to show that I defied their BS predictions to become just that…"
He pauses.
“One of the best ever. Lemme say it again… one of the best ever. I don't think you realize what a feather in your cap it is to be able to say you pinned Jake Keeton. Sure there's gonna be plenty of people who discredit your accomplishment because of my age and ring rust but it'll mean a lot more when I shake the rust off and I'm back rubbing elbows with the top guys in TPW and not bottom feeding novelty acts like you. Regardless of whether you end being what I think you're gonna be and that's a flash in the pan, pun intended, or a bonafide superstar you'll always be able to say you pinned eleven time World Champion Jake Keeton. Once, cause it ain't happening again. Sunshine, dogs ass, you know the rest.”
The hoot of an owl stops him in his tracks. He looks in the direction the sound came from and cups his hands around his mouth.
“Who! Who! Who!"
Not even a second passes before the owl hoots back.
"I've been talking to this owl for a while now. I really hope it's not some asshole on the other side of the lake laughing at my dumbass like the Bert Krisher bit.”
His hearty laugh reverberated off the water and the owl hooted once again.
“Now where were we… ‘’
The smile fades and he bends down and picks up another handful of pebbles to toss in the water as he walks along the bank.
“Jokes are done. From what I've seen of you Pan you're not a very serious kind of guy but it's time to get serious, deadly serious. I don't know what you are but I know I don't believe all this fairytale nonsense you got going on. At the end of the day you're still flesh and bone just like anyone else I've ever stepped in the ring with. Flesh tears. Bones break. Yours ain't no different. Maybe you can sprinkle some pixie dust on it and it'll work the same as rubbing dirt on it does around these parts but there's no third wheel this time to keep the attention off you so you're getting hurt. That's unavoidable. You got half my attention the first time but you get it all this time.”
There's a rustling in the bushes as Jake walks past and a tiny rabbit hops out.
“Speaking of getting someone's attention you've been begging for some attention from JMont since you walked through the doors here. I don't know the guy, but I know the type and you ain't on his level. He sees you and he hears you he just doesn't care about you. He's so much higher up the pecking order when he looks down you look like a piss ant and your screams sound like faint whispers. Your insistence on talking about him is a slap in the face to the people you should be focused on.”
He sighs, his breath visible as it dances into the cold night sky then fades away just as quickly as it appeared.
“They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression but I'm not satisfied with the first impression I left on TPW. Winter Wrestleland is my do over. I can't erase the loss but I can make people forget it by putting on a match they'll be talking about stealing an absolutely loaded show. Then get used to it happening on a regular basis. Pan… “
One final laugh echoes through the pitch black sky.
" You're just the start.”
