Team ELITE vs Jesse Durant/Heatwave

[Ryan Cooke]

Good luck to all!

[teamelite]

[Chris Butler, all 275 pounds of muscle and power, was in the middle of a Mixed Martial Arts sparring session, while being coached by his partner, Carlos Rodriguez. Butler had beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and down his chest and back as he had his sparring partner down in a body scissors, then began raining down with rights and lefts until the young man tapped out.]

"Good, good job Chris."

[Rodriguez stepped onto the mat, dressed in black and red shorts, a wifebeater and Nike Shox. He smiled through his black goatee as he handed Butler a towel.]

"You're improving a lot, my friend. In fact, I got you a spot on the show at Twin Rivers Casino in July. So, we've got some more work to do but we'll get you there."

[He patted Butler on the shoulder before he turned his full attention to the camera.]

"Jesse Durant and Heatwave, I feel obligated to let you know Chris and I are well aware of you. Heatwave, we know all about you, what you'e done, the struggles you have had trying to become relevant once again, we've read the cliff notes. But what we don't understand is why do you feel you have to be number one? Being a nobody is just as good, as long as you're under contract, right? I mean, look at the men you've groomed... Justin Brooks and Ian Garner. Look what they've done, they've eclipsed everything you've done.

"This isn't New Hampshire, Nick."

[Rodriguez smirked as he creeped closer to the camera.]

"And don't get me started with Durant. Now, I know I haven't been between the ropes long, but with my years of MMA experience, I'm a prodigy. Durant, you're a hack and your trainer was a fluke. That's right, Ty Walker is as useless as a dead hooker in your bed. It's going to do what you want, but it's still like fucking a dead body."

[Butler walked back over to C-Rod and nodded his head.]

"This is the future, this is greatness. This... this is Team ELITE."

[Rodriguez finished his sentence with a toothy grin.]

[Black.]

[jesse]

To stand in the spotlight, to be back again, for a full month now, hell, no dream, no wish has ever felt this good. Now I remember what I was fighting for all those months in rehab, the pain, the days when I didn’t want to get out of bed much less move limbs that were heavy from bandages and lack of use. I remember three months into the whole damn process, the bandages were off finally and I thought to myself, hell, this should be easy, this is my body, I’ve lived in it my entire life, I’ve been in control of it for more years then I remember, how can I need to relearn how to walk, how to move, my leg is still there, I should just be able to get out of bed and walk out of this room and hitch a ride home in time for dinner.

I wouldn’t get dinner at home for another nine months.

What I did get that day was a rude lesson in reality. My brain still knew what it was supposed to do to move my leg, but my leg didn’t remember how to process those singles. I stepped onto the floor and the whole leg buckled under me, I remember blinding pain, I remember laying helpless on the floor thanks to my own stupidity and from that moment I vowed now to be so damn stupid again.

Why am I reminiscing about this now, when I have a match coming up to prepare for. Well, its simple really, I needed the reminder, not only of what I’d worked so hard to achieve, but of how easy it is to blow a chance or suffer a setback. Team Elite thinks to goad me into rash, hotheaded actions by mocking me and my teacher. You know, when I was a rookie I would have gotten my feathers ruffled, I would have gotten all bent out of shape and more than likely done something stupid. That isn’t going to happen this time around.

See I already know that I am coming into this match at a disadvantage. Team Elite already functions as a team, they know each other, and more than likely, they trust one another. I neither know, nor trust Heatwave. Aside from having been dumped into the ring with him for the third time now I know nothing about the man, and I have to wonder why the constant team ups, have I simply rejoined the sport at a bad time, or does this place have something against singles matches? I know nothing about tag team wrestling, it hardly seems like a productive endeavor for me to be involved in, regardless, I will do my best.

I don't know what the future will hold, but I do know one thing about greatness.

I know what it is not.

And it isn't you Team Elite...it isn't you.

[jesse]

It wasn’t often that Jesse got to go home anymore, so on these rare occasions when he did, seeing friends and family was always a thrill, kicking back by the pool in the backyard, the scent of BBQ burgers and ribs in the air, the laughter of his siblings spilling out of the kitchen made it easy to kick back and relax and put aside thoughts of the ring and his upcoming match. Other things just melted away, till it was like being back in high school, with some noted changes. His older sister was married now and his new brother in law sat a few feet away, drinking a beer and watching his wife, Jesse’s sister framed in the bay window tormenting their little brother. Jesse glanced that way and laughed too. It was good to see his brother behaving normally again, there had been quite a few rough years, but it seemed like that was all behind them now.

“Hey Jesse?”

His younger sister was suddenly blocking out the sun and Jesse blinked up at her, drawn out of his thoughts.

“Tag, your it!” she declared, then sprayed Jesse with the hose she’d hidden behind her back. The cold water drench him and he yelled and took off after her, the pair of them laughing as they raced around the yard, till their father and uncles stepped out with super soakers filled with ice water and drenched them both then tackled them into the pool. Wasn’t long before everyone was in the pool, save for his mom, who took pictures of them all from the safety of the sliding glass doorway.

Later, when it had grown darker, Jesse’s brother in law pulled out his guitar and sat playing by the fire pit, marshmallows were roasting and graham crackers passed around and Jesse laughed at his brother munching away with chocolate smeared along the corner of his mouth. His mother began to sing and his sisters joined in and Jesse watched as he turned the marshmallow on the end of his stick, then yanked it back as it caught fire, blowing it out and popping it into his mouth. There was a little bit of bittersweet sadness to these final moments of the day, though the songs sure wouldn’t reflect them. Tomorrow morning his sister and brother in law would be leaving Chattanooga and heading halfway cross the country where his brother in law’s new job awaited in Montana with a veterinary clinic specializing in large animals. His sister would be starting work at the university there, furthering her degree in Anthropology and native studies while also working at the folk art center. Jesse had to catch a flight back home and his younger brother Tommy wouldn’t be joining him this time, Tommy had enlisted and was headed to basic training in less then a week, while Sara, his younger sister would be heading back to Vermont to start her internship. For the first time in as long as any of them could imagine, their parents house wouldn’t be full of life and energy, if anything, only silence would rule there as more often then not, they were never home.

A nurse and a firefighter, how often had their paths crossed over the years, one coming in as the other had headed out, and yet, they had always seemed to make it work, sometimes Jesse wondered how. When the party broke up for the night, Jesse walked downtown, the mood broken his mind was once more filled with thoughts of his upcoming match. As a rookie, he’d walked this route many, many nights, planning, thinking about his opponents words, thinking about strategy, his moves and motions, those things he needed most to work on. While the moves had changed, this thoughts regarding them had not, he was still just as focused on each one and making them better as he’d been back then, he was still just as focused on every opponent as well, and tonight’s thoughts were filled with Team Elite, and most importantly, whether he would left to face both of them on his own. Nothing he’d seen from Heatwave led him to believe he could trust or even depend on the man, Heatwave was as likely to turn on him and start a brawl with him than he was to fight their scheduled opponents. Jesse wasn’t use to this kind of situation and sometime he wondered whether he was in need of someone to watch his back. In times past other wrestlers had used managers or valets. He Didn’t think he’d do well with a manager, he didn’t want someone else trying to tell him what he should or shouldn’t be doing in the ring unless it was Ty, but a valet, now that thought held some major promise, all he’d have to do was find a girl who actually had an interest and love for what he did and wanted to join in. Not particularly easy, but, maybe not impossible.

Not in time for this match, unfortunately, but the seed of the idea had been planted, and with it, Jesse headed back home to get some sleep before his flight in the morning, feeling a little better about things to come.