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08.30.05
• PLUG!!!!
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| 09.29.03
Seize The Moment #3: Rookie Traditions
by Samir
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Hey folks. We're going to run a little short tonight because I'm drowning in homework and I already feel very guilty about pausing my study of obscure Canadian tax laws to pen this column. However, I've received about 20-25 requests for the next column in the past 2 weeks and I don't think I'm big enough to start ignoring my "fans" yet, so here goes.
As I've documented in STM#1 and STM#2, I've begun to train with Quebec's Northern Championship Wrestling. I've been training to become a professional wrestlers for 2 months now, and by my own estimates, I figure I'm about 10 months away from being a green, curtain-jerkin' jobber who's allowed to be on shows. Right now the training has hit a major rough spot, as I'm pretty banged up. I'm working through a bruised sternum and tailbone, most notably and I've got a few other nagging injuries. My hope is currently to improve my back bumps and do a better job of lifting my tailbone off the ground for such bumps. It's easy enough for running bumps, but for someone who's not used to being in the air, I sometimes have no idea what part of me is going to hit the ground first when I take moves like back body drops or high spine busters. It's not a reflection on anyone but me and my lack of skill at this point in time.
But enough about the boring stuff. Let's get to the fun part.
As many of you know, it's customary for trainees of any company to help that company out during shows, doing various odd jobs and whatnot. NCW is no different, and the trainees are usually ringside security and ring hands. The (sometimes unenviable) task I have been given lately is to take care of the music. It's called "DJ" for short, but it's not really DJing as such, it's more just getting the show's music, entrances, exits and interlude music. Except that I'm not very skilled at it, I get nervous and I make mistakes. I don't know what purpose God had in mind for me when he put me on Earth, but I'm sure it wasn't to be a "DJ". Still, I soldier on, happy to be a part of the show. I actually enjoy being the DJ, because when the crowd hears the music, I know that it's because of me. It's certainly a more involved part of the show than, for example, a roving security guard.
The thing is, lately, I've been getting a lot of jeers from the crowd. It all started when my friend, who goes by our forums under the alias of Lonely Soldier Boy, came to a show and began chanting "DJ Sucks" randomly. It's caught on and become something of an inside joke among certain NCW fans to chant it at shows, along with its French equivalent. Other NCW workers even joked about the DJ drawing heat and being a heel.
One of the NCW honchos approached me after the last show, out of the blue. He told me he was thinking of using the whole DJ/crowd thing as part of an angle, where the president would call me out on a show, and while I'd be sucking up to him, he'd break my heart and tell everyone what a terrible DJ I am. I'd be visibly shaken, and then... the unthinkable would happen. The president would fire me in front of everyone. As icing on the cake, he'd feed me to a heel wrestler who'd nail me with a crowbar, and I'd blade my foreheard for added effect and pass out like a light.
I thought it was funny, but one thing bothered me.
"Do I have to blade?" I asked. Actually, the idea was not appealing at all, the more I thought about it. I've seen wrestlers up close, the ones with an affinity for blading have all sorts of little nicks on their foreheads and some even have broken hairlines because of it. Now, I'm not a model, but one thing I love is my hairline. I've got a perfectly symmetrical one, absolutely no recesses and a beautiful widow's peak. It's one of the best hairlines I've ever seen, and I'm genuinely happy to be the owner of it. There's no chance in hell I want to ruin that, and can you blame me?
"Yeah, you do," he says, matter-of-factly.
"No, seriously, do I?" It went back and forth for awhile until I just stopped to think about it.
At this point, Shane Matthews from nCw's tag team 2.0, who'd been following the conversation nearby, comes over and tells me he did it too, adding that "It's an NCW tradition! Once you start on a show, you have to blade once." What kind of sick initiation is that, I thought? I looked at both men incredulously.
As if to convince me he's not kidding, Shane then shows me a scar on his forehead, where, presumably, a blade had cut him open. Immediately, two other wrestlers came over, like they had recognized some sort of clandestine signal, and began to show me their scars as well, without any prompting whatsoever. Now, I was worried.
I went home that night, and I just couldn't get the idea out of my mind. "Should I do it?" I thought. "Is it worth it?" I thought. "What the hell is that all about?" I thought. I began weighing the pros and cons of it in my mind. Pro: I could be on shows. Con: Scars! Ugly scars! I knew this old business with an old school mentality still had some initiation rituals, but I never figured I'd have to do it.
Finally, I was so perturbed that I contacted my trainer. I recounted to him the conversation I had and the events that happened after the said show, and asked him straight up if it was something I had to do. Laughingly, he replied, "NO! We play that joke on all rookies!" Then, I knew it was all a giant rib. It also explained why the other wrestlers knew exactly what we were talking about and why they showed me scars without prompting. I know when I've been gotten and dammit, Shane and his crew got me. Boy did they get me going, like a fish I went straight for the bait. The gullible rookie, he's easy prey.
In a way, it was a sort of intitiation. Wrestling is full of ribbers, from the bigs all the way down to the indies. It's a tradition of sorts, and often, the biggest targets are the rookies. It makes sense, since they least expect it and it's a way to test for a sense of humor. Wrestling history is full of great ribs, from Owen Hart calling Mick Foley's hotel room pretending to be the hotel clerk raising his nightly fare to Terry Funk sending Dynamite Kid on a one-way flight to the middle of nowhere to someone crapping in Sable's gym bag. Well, maybe the last one wasn't a rib so much as it was a spiteful incident with intent to harm rather than to create laughter, but I think you all get the point. In fact, even at a recent NCW show this year, someone unhooked the belt of a champion from behind the curtain as he stood in the entrance way and it almost fell right off his waist. He had to stop his entrance pose just to catch the belt before it would hit the floor. As he walked down to the ring for his match, all he could do is look back towards the curtain and smile.
And now, I'd been ribbed. Maybe it wasn't a huge rib, it certainly wasn't an original one (for nCw anyway) and it didn't take a lot of effort. But, it was a rib nonetheless and Shane and I shared a laugh about it later on Instant Messenger. As a cursory note, the angle idea for the DJ beatdown was nixed for the near future. I guess those scars were either already there, hardway's or blade jobs that happened not in anyone's first matches, but boy did they get me going.
I'm already planning revenge.
Samir
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