CHAPTER 4
Joey took seat number 230, in row EE of the United Spirit Arena in Lubbock, Texas. On the floor, twenty-nine rows down, Jumbo and Jack Branson were running their spots in the ring. They would be performing together in a little over six hours. Standing around the ring, watching and giving advice, were three veteran wrestlers: Crusader, Deep Six, and Lord Mayberry.
At this time last year, Joey would have emptied his savings account to sit and watch these megastars of the wrestling world rehearse spots and work out together in the ring. Now he was here, not only to watch, but also to get in a few minutes of practice time himself. Later tonight, in a non-televised house show, he would wrestle Bret Stevens, a performer he’d admired for years.
Joey’s interest in professional wrestling predated his earliest memories. On Saturday mornings, while other kids watched cartoons, Joey and his older brother Mark watched wrestling. By the time Joey was a teenager, he and Mark were imitating their favorite wrestlers in their parents’ basement. The floor strewn with pillows, they would re-enact Red Jackson vs. Shane Walker, or Chuck Campo vs. The Great Santos, move for move, with a recliner, a coffee table, and a toy chest as the ring posts.
When they were in high school, Joey and Mark founded the Memphis Backyard Brawlers, a group of ten boys who met every day after school to act out their wrestling fantasies in Joey’s backyard. Each boy had his own character and they all took turns as the World Champion, (the champion wore a brown leather belt with a large silver buckle that belonged to Joey’s father). It was in the Memphis Backyard Brawlers that Maniac Joey Hamilton was born.
As the group became more advanced in their skills, they also became more daring, and on one cloudy afternoon in late March, Mark decided he would attempt a moonsault from the lowest branch of the maple tree in the backyard. With his opponent (Joey’s best friend Tito), bravely and patiently lying on the grass, Mark climbed the tree, set himself up on the lowest branch, and leaped. He landed perfectly across Tito’s chest. The group cheered in approval. As Joey, the acting referee, was squatting to do the three count, Tito and Mark simultaneously screamed in pain. Mark rolled off Tito’s chest. Their match was never finished. Mark had broken his right leg and left Tito with two broken ribs and a punctured lung. That afternoon an ambulance came to the Hamilton house. The Memphis Backyard Brawlers never met again.
After the accident, Mark lost interest in professional wrestling, but Joey, much to his mother’s chagrin, continued to watch, if no longer imitate, the Saturday shows. His senior year, Joey saw a documentary on cable that described the inner workings of a professional wrestling school and the life of a wrestler in an independent promotion. That night, using his parents’ 166 megahertz computer with a 56K modem, he got on the Internet and found the web site for Victor Blakey’s school of pro wrestling in Nashville. The next night, at dinner, he told his parents that he wanted to enroll in wrestling school after graduation.
“Absolutely not,” his mother said.
Three months of pestering and pleading passed before Joey’s mother acquiesced. In June, she accompanied him to Nashville and signed a six hundred dollar tuition check for a year of wrestling school.
That year, thirteen people, including Joey Hamilton, enrolled in “Beginning Professional Wrestling” with Victor Blakey. At the end of the first week, the thirteen was down to ten, after two people quit and one tore his ACL. At the end of the first month, only six remained, after three more quit and one poor kid broke his neck on a failed back body drop. By Christmas, Victor Blakey had kicked two more kids out of the program after discovering they were addicted to painkillers, and another young man fell to injury, this one tore his right bicep. When the program finished in May, Joey was one of three who received a certificate of completion. Of the three, Joey was the only one to receive Victor Blakey’s coveted recommendation to the Independent Wrestling Promoters Association. In June, the Southeast Wrestling League offered Joey a spot on their tour. He took it, and Maniac Joey Hamilton, dormant since the demise of the Memphis Backyard Brawlers, was re-born, this time as a bona fide professional.
Joey’s first real match was against Oscar Esquivel, a long-time wrestler in Mexico who had recently begun the American “Indy” circuit in hopes of landing a job with one of the major companies. Joey and Oscar wrestled for thirty minutes, in front of one hundred and fifty people, in a rodeo arena in Little Rock. By the time Oscar hit a shooting star press for the win, Joey was already over with the fans. Their thirty minute match generated lots of buzz in the burgeoning Internet Wrestling Community. Word started to spread that there was a kid in the Southeast Wrestling League who had “It.”
Three nights later, Joey and Oscar wrestled again, this time in Memphis, with the old Backyard Brawlers and Larry Jenkins from Revolution Wrestling in the audience. In front of the home town crowd, knowing a big money contract was at stake, Joey’s second ever pro match was a disaster. He tried to go too fast, and missed his spots. He tried to be too flashy, and botched a missile dropkick, barely grazing Oscar’s shoulder. After thirty minutes of mistakes, Joey, a bundle of nerves, misplanted his foot for a superkick, and nailed Oscar straight in the face, breaking his nose and his front teeth. Joey went over that night, but he didn’t get a contract with Revolution. He lost the respect of his opponent, he scared the hell out of his mother, and he earned a reputation of being dangerous in the ring.
It took a year and a half to recover from the Memphis disaster, but with persistence, realistic expectations, and some financial assistance from home, Joey’s stock slowly rose again. On New Year’s Day, Joey received a call from the Global Wrestling Association, inviting him to their headquarters in Chicago for a tryout. Two weeks later, he signed a one-year developmental deal with the GWA for forty thousand dollars.
For the next two months, Joey wrestled in Rosemont, Illinois, in the GWA farm league, under the tutelage of the great Shane Walker, one of his childhood heroes. Shane told him if he kept his head down, his mouth shut, and his eyes open, great things would happen for him one day.
One day turned out to be soon. On April 11th, Joey was invited to perform a “dark match”, a non-televised warm-up match, before the taping of GWA Burn in Kansas City. He wrestled against Benjamin Grant, his sparring partner from the farm league. In front of fifteen thousand people, he put on his best performance ever, earning accolades backstage and a lunch date with Duke the next day. At the lunch, Duke asked Joey if he felt he was ready to appear on television. Joey said yes. The next week was his match against Jumbo Sanders on Burn. A nasty chair shot, a buzz-causing wink, a post-match surprise beatdown of the main event heel, and Joey was a star.
And in the three days that followed the notable confrontation with Jumbo, the wrestling world had crowned Joey Mayhem its new prince. The Internet sites talked about him incessantly. His family, friends, former colleagues from the Southeast Wrestling League, and veteran wrestlers from the GWA, were asked to give their thoughts on him in interviews for web sites and newsletters. A Joey Mayhem T-shirt, complete with trademarked logo, was in production, to begin selling at GWA shows next month. Even an old home movie from the Memphis Backyard Brawlers surfaced on the Internet and was downloaded across the world.
Against that background of overnight sensation, Joey looked across the empty arena, where in hours he would wrestle his first match as a superstar. He thought about the last time he had wrestled with expectations this high, the night he had kicked Oscar Esquivel in the face. He really wanted to get in the ring and work out the spots with Bret. Was Bret even here yet?
“Are you always this early?” said a female voice from behind him.
Joey turned and saw Jade Wilcox, who wrestled under the name Jade Sleek, descending the stairs toward him. She was wearing sinfully tight jeans that somehow fit over her black boots, and a long-sleeved white T-shirt. Her jet black hair fell over her shoulders but couldn’t completely cover the enhanced breasts that were a st
aple of women’s wrestling.
“Well, I don’t know. I guess. I was hoping to get in some practice time in the ring.”
Jade dropped her gym bag and sat next to Joey. “Really? Did one of those guys invite you to work out with them?” she said.
“No, I was actually going to wait for them to finish, then see if Bret wanted to go over our spots.”
Joey hoped he didn’t sound as intimidated as he felt. Jade had wrestled for the GWA for six years, longer than any other woman on the roster. She had been women’s champion five times, and at one time was the premier women’s wrestler in the world. In addition, she was a worldwide sex symbol, having appeared in Playboy and Sports Illustrated. Joey was a little surprised she was talking to him.
“So you’re wrestling Bret tonight,” she said. “Have you ever worked with him before?”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve actually never even spoken to him.”
Jade laughed. “Well, you’ll get your chance tonight.”
“What do you mean?” Joey smiled, not sure if he understood the joke.
“My guess is you won’t get to work out with Bret before your match. He doesn’t like to do practice sessions, and those guys aren’t going to give you any ring time. You will get to talk to Bret though, during your match. He likes to call every spot, and at the house shows, he’ll even give you criticism when he’s got you in a rest hold. He’s a total trip.”
Joey felt his muscles tighten, an instinctual nervous response for him. He didn’t like the thought of going into a match without any preparation at all.
“Why won’t those guys give me any ring time?” Joey asked.
“Because you’re new. New guys don’t get ring time, especially new guys getting pushed.”
There was a whiff of smugness in her voice that made Joey defensive.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“What, that you’re getting pushed?”
“No, that guys getting pushed don’t get any ring time.”
Joey knew full well what a push was. In the wrestling world, a push was the term used to describe the shine of the company spotlight. If a promotion wanted to make someone a star, the bookers would give him more television time, and larger parts in the stories. They would have him win matches, or at least lose matches with more flair. They would intensify and focus his gimmick, and give him a catch phrase. The sum total of this attention from the bookers was referred to as a push, and it was the most sought-after prize in professional wrestling. And there was no doubt that, following his debut in the main event of Burn, Joey was getting pushed.
“I know, it doesn’t make any sense,” said Jade. “You’d think that, since you’re new, the company would get you in the ring before the shows so you could get your legs under you and be ready to run with the ball when it’s yours. But that’s not how it works here. Here, practice time before a show belongs to a privileged few, and they guard it like gold. Those guys down there have all been in the company for a long time, and they all have one thing in common. They’ve never been, and they’re never going to be, number one. Those guys have worked as far up the ladder as they can get without getting to the top, and they’re scared and resentful of new people who might have a chance to go further than they did. Someone like you comes in here and can be packaged and presented to the fans as a winner from day one, and before you know it, you’re doing the headliners at the pay per views that could have been theirs. They’ll do everything they can to hold you back, and that includes keeping you away from the ring where you can practice and improve.”
Jade’s voice had taken on a familiar teaching-the-rookie tone. Joey found that professional wrestlers, from all walks of life, in the biggest or the smallest promotions, loved to find a rookie and chew his ear off with their knowledge. He knew it was best to shut up and listen, and as he looked down at the guys around the ring, he wondered if what Jade was saying wasn’t right on. These guys had all been in the company forever, and had never been the number one guy.
Crusader and Jumbo had both joined the GWA at a time when everyone had a silly, cartoonish gimmick. They both debuted as comic book characters, with bright costumes and larger-than-human personas. Unfortunately, wrestling changed, but the memories of those gimmicks stuck with their owners. Crusader, a Canadian wrestler named Scott Rollins, originally played a ridiculous knight of the round table character, chivalrous and morally righteous. He’d long since abandoned that character, but the name and the memory stuck with him, and despite the fact that he was skilled and had a good look, he probably would never be the top guy in the company.
Jumbo’s past was even worse. He was brought in as a demented circus freak character, who was led to the ring on a leash by an animal trainer. The name Jumbo was supposed to remind people of a trained elephant, and his silver tights originally were supposed to be reminiscent of a circus performer’s outfit. Like Crusader, Jumbo dumped the lame character when wrestling outgrew it, but remnants and memories of his past prevented the fans from ever taking him too seriously.
Deep Six and Lord Mayberry likewise were talented wrestlers trapped by the gimmicks that once got them over. Deep Six debuted as an odd, cowboy/ghoul creature that at one time was the most exciting performer in the company. Now he wore a black leather jacket to the ring and cut long-winded promos, but otherwise had no discernable personality. Lord Mayberry had come into the company playing a variation on the classic British snob character that was in every wrestling promotion at the time. He still played the snob, only now his accent was gone and he wanted to be taken seriously as a tough guy.
“So how does a new guy, with no sway backstage, become one of the people who can work out in the ring before the show?” said Joey.
“I don’t know,” said Jade.
She looked like she had more to say on this topic, but a cell phone ringing from inside her gym bag interrupted the conversation. After unzipping her bag and fumbling through it for a few seconds, she pulled out the phone and cringed when she saw the name on the digital display.
“Just a second Joey,” she said as she flipped open the phone. “What is it Tony?” she said into the receiver.
Joey sat quietly as Jade had a telephone conversation with someone she obviously wasn’t fond of. He silently cursed the phone for interrupting this surprising little rap session.
“Sorry, that was my lawyer,” Jade said as she stuffed her cell phone back in the bag.
“Your lawyer? Is everything cool?”
“Yeah, I’ve just got a prick of an ex-husband who wants my money and has been trying to get it for two years.”
Joey nodded silently. He knew all about this story; everyone did. Jade’s divorce and its aftermath was genuine celebrity gossip, made all the more juicy because of persistent rumors of an affair between her and the current GWA champion, Goliath, while she was married to her personal trainer. Joey chose not to say anything about it; instead he looked at her as if he were ready to listen.
“Anyway, where were we Joey? Oh yeah, the guys who get to work out in the ring. It’s like high school. The popular kids run the show. They have access to all the stuff everyone wants. And for a freshman like you, the best way to go somewhere would be to buddy up with the popular seniors.”
“And those guys in the ring are the popular seniors?”
“You got it.”
“So, you know those guys. How do I get them to, you know--”
“To like you?” Jade laughed at the silly turn the conversation was taking.
“Yeah. I guess that’s it. How do I get them to like me?”
“Oh Honey, I don’t think you can.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve already told you, you’re being pushed.”
“I guess I don’t understand why that’s such a big deal.”
“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re the freshman, remember? How do you think the seniors would react if some fre
shman came in and snatched up the homecoming queen?”
“Okay, yeah, I get that part. I just, well, the fans liked me on Monday night. If the fans like what I’m doing, then it’s good for business. If it’s good for business, then I’d think those guys would get over themselves.”
Jade shook her head. “Let me tell you how it works now that you’re in the big leagues,” she said. “Loyalty to the company doesn’t exist. These guys could care less if the GWA grows, shrinks, sinks, or swims. If things don’t work out here, they’ll go to Revolution. If things don’t work out there, they’ll go to wherever things do work out. I think the fans like to think that it’s all about the promotions in these Monday Night Battles, but it’s not. It’s about the stars. Whoever becomes a big star will have it made. He can wrestle for whoever has the most money to give him. Over in Revolution, Lucifer has become such a huge star that he’ll be the World Champion in whatever promotion he wants to wrestle with for the next twenty years.
“And when he gets tired of wrestling, he can go become an actor, or retire on all the money he made from television commercials. That’s what those guys down there want. That’s what everyone in the business wants. There’s big fame at stake in wrestling nowadays, and even the most passionate wrestlers are seduced by it.
“Think about it, kid. Why are you a wrestler?”
Joey had answered this question a thousand times to himself, his friends, and his mother.
“I just love it,” he said. “I’ve always loved it. I couldn’t do anything else.”
“Great. That’s great,” said Jade. “And I totally believe you. Now think about what it was like on Monday night, when the whole crowd took to you like you were going to lead them to the promised land. They started chanting your name. How did that feel?”
“It felt great. It was the most exciting moment of my life.”
“Exactly. Now that you’ve tasted that, it’s going to be tough for you to go back. Sure, if you have to, you’ll wrestle for peanuts again, and do it for the love of the sport. But, given the choice, how can you not want that moment of fame, that moment when everyone in your world adores you?”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” said Joey. “Of course I’d choose the big crowds and the adoration, given the choice. I still love wrestling. It doesn’t mean I’d want to leave it to become a movie star or something.”
“No, but maybe you’ll find yourself doing things, making compromises, things you wouldn’t be doing if you were in this for your love of wrestling more than your want for fame.”
Joey was about to ask her what she was talking about, but before he spoke, he realized what she was saying. Images of Jade wrestling other women in a pit of muck wearing only a bikini popped into his head. He remembered a skit she did last year where the audience was led to believe that Duke peed on her after she lost the Women’s Title. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk about this anymore.
“I’m sorry Joey,” she said. “I didn’t mean to bring you down with all this. I just got on my soap box, and...the thing is Joey, I can tell you’ve got a big future ahead of you if you play your cards right, but I’m worried for you, being thrown right into the spotlight in your first match. And I just hate the way things work around here. I guess all I’m saying is you need to watch your back. There’s nothing you can do to avoid the politics. Just don’t get hurt or frustrated if the old guys give you the cold shoulder for awhile.”
“I won’t,” said Joey, but he wondered. This conversation had made him aware of how little he really knew about this business, of how green he really was.
“What about you?” Joey asked. “Where do you stand in all this? Do you care about the politics?”
“I don’t know anymore. I used to, but, well, I don’t know.” Jade reached down and started fiddling with the straps of her gym bag. A few seconds of silence made it clear that Jade apparently had no interest in talking further about herself.
“Do you have someone to travel with this week?” Joey asked, surprised at his own boldness.
Jade continued to look down at her gym bag. “Safire and I are driving the circuit this week, and don’t even ask, because the answer is no. You and I can’t travel together.” Her voice was sullen as she delivered the rejection, almost as if it hurt her more than him.
“Okay,” said Joey. What was he thinking? An American sex icon takes a few minutes of her time to talk to him and he spoils it.
“Here’s your last tip, Joey. Don’t try to be friends with any of the women around here, because to the guys backstage, and all the geeks on the Internet, you and a woman can’t be friends, you can only be an item. Trust me, I know. I...”
She was distracted by something on the arena floor.
“Shit. Look who’s here,” she said, almost to herself. “I’m gonna go get something to eat. It was nice talking to you Joey.”
Jade was looking across the arena at two men in matching grey Armani suits who had stepped onto the floor from the service area. One was a giant of a man, with long blonde hair and muscles that bulged through his suit. Next to him, looking like a midget by comparison, was a bald man with a round torso. They both were wearing sunglasses. The two men, Patrick French, better known as Goliath, and Michael “Duke” Correlli, had spotted Joey and Jade.
“Joey, come down here,” yelled out Goliath. “We need to talk to you.”
“Nice to see you too, Champ,” Jade said under her breath. “Well Joey, good luck.”
“Aren’t you coming down?” asked Joey.
“Of course not. He only invited you, kid. Go on. They’ll keep on pretending like they never saw me.”
“Why don’t you just come--”
“Shut up and get your ass down there.”
“Okay, okay. Listen, thanks for the advice. I’ll see you around?”
“Go on already,” said Jade, waving him off like he was a fly.
“Well, can we eat dinner together sometime or something?” What the hell am I doing? he thought.
“I...whatever...sure..just get down there. Goodbye.”
Joey waved awkwardly at her before turning to head down the stairs. He felt giddy. He’d just asked Jade Sleek out on a date, and she had said yes, well, maybe.
“Glad to see you here early, Joey,” said Goliath, extending his hand in greeting as Joey reached the bottom of the stairs.
Joey could think of nothing to say as he shook Goliath’s hand. The two had never formally met, but Goliath was acting like they were old friends.
“It’s nice to spend some time in the arena before the fans arrive,” Goliath said. “It always helps me feel at home.”
“Yeah, it’s really nice,” said Joey. Why had Goliath not even acknowledged Jade? Goliath and Jade had a rocky past together, and Joey was overcome with the feeling that he was somehow now in the middle of it. He was reminded of the time his mother caught him watching porn. She knew she had seen it, he knew that she’d seen it, but they both acted like it never happened. Goliath was treating Jade the same way Joey’s mother treated porn.
“Joey Boy, you’re just the man we need to see,” said Duke Corelli. Duke smiled and extended his hand. The arena lights glimmered off his gold-capped teeth. Duke had lost his two front teeth three years ago when a disgruntled former wrestler named Bishop Brock punched him in the mouth after a show. It was well known in the wrestling world that simple dental surgery could have put Duke’s teeth right back in his mouth, good as new, but Duke instead chose to get two gold-capped implants. The implants made him look like a deranged mafia boss every time he smiled, adding a new quirk to the greedy, self-serving boss character he played on his own TV show.
“We need to talk to you about the next few shows, so come with us if you’ve got a minute. Have you got a minute?” said Duke.
“Yes sir,” said Joey.
“Great, I use an office on the concourse,” said Du
ke. “Let’s go.”
As Joey followed Duke and Goliath up the stairs, he realized that the guys working out in the ring, “the seniors,” were watching him, “the freshman,” head off to a private meeting with the World Champion and the boss.