by Tony Correia
“No! You keep it down,” I shout back.
“Now I’m really turned on,” Thom says.
Pria gets up from the grass and joins me in my roar. Soon all four of us are roaring into the valley. We roar until we fall onto the ground, exhausted and laughing.
11
Debut
The show doesn’t start for another hour. I try to calm my nerves by running on the spot and doing some push-ups. There are twelve of us backstage. I’m the only newcomer of the group.
Romeo is putting me up against Adonis again to help me feel at ease. I’m relieved. Some of the other wrestlers in the fed can be real prima donnas. You would think they were wrestling at Madison Square Gardens instead of Cloverdale Fairgrounds.
“If you’re not in your gimmick, get into it fast,” Romeo says, coming backstage. “We’re letting the marks in.”
“Have you been smoking?” I ask Romeo. I can smell the cigarette fumes as he walks by.
“Yeah. That stupid Ricky Flamingo is here. Would you believe that creep offered to buy my fed? I taught that jackass everything he knows, and now he thinks he’s Vince McMahon.”
“Don’t let him get to you,” Atom Bomb says.
“I wish we sold more tickets tonight,” Romeo says. “Screw him. Everybody, put on a good show. That’s all that matters, right?”
I find a corner and put on my Speedo, wrestling shoes and kick pads. I’ve tried out my look at the School of Hard Knocks. It felt pretty cool, wrestling in next to nothing. But standing here backstage with the other wrestlers is a different matter.
“Is that your gimmick?” Atom Bomb asks me.
“Too much? Or not enough?”
“I like it!” he says.
Does he like it because I look fierce? Or because he’s gay? I have to stop second-guessing myself.
“You look like a real wrestler, not one of those wannabes,” Adonis assures me.
That’s a relief. Still, I’m so nervous I have goosebumps and shrink dink.
“Jorge! You have a visitor,” Romeo shouts.
Romeo parts the curtains slightly and lets Thom in. I’m relieved to see a friendly face. I want to hug and kiss him. But I can’t with the marks just on the other side of the curtain.
“How do you feel?” Thom asks.
“Like I’m going to throw up.”
“You’re going to do just fine,” he says. “Remember to roar. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Can you help me with my wrist tape? I keep making a mess of it.”
Thom spends the next few minutes wrapping fabric tape around my wrists. I’ve seen Thom naked a couple of times now, but this is the most intimate moment we’ve had together.
“I need to get back to the concession stand,” Thom says. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
We bump fists for good luck. I watch him go back through the curtains. I catch Atom’s eye after Thom leaves. His face is a mix of envy and concern.
* * *
The card begins with the national anthem and the acknowledgement that the event is taking place on First Nations land. Then the announcer starts the show.
“Weighing two hundred pounds from Brooklyn, New York. It’s liberal and ironic Brooklyn Tremblay!”
I put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses. I walk past the rows of folding chairs, stopping to take selfies with the Schlepp sisters on my way into the ring. I hop over the top rope and grab the mic from the announcer.
“I hate labels. I don’t like having to put everything into little boxes. But if I was going to label Golden Adonis, I’d have to call him washed up. Because that’s what he’s going to be when I’m done with him tonight!”
The audience boos me, all fifty of them. But the Schlepp sisters seem to be enjoying my gimmick.
I drop the mic and go to my corner. I can see Mom and Dad in the audience. Dad is bouncing with excitement. Mom looks nervous. Arshdeep and Pria are sitting with them. I turn around and stretch in the corner. I’m afraid if I look at them too long I’m going to lose my nerve.
“And weighing 230 pounds from Kelowna, B.C., God’s gift to wrestling, Golden Adonis!”
The crowd is on its feet. People pat Adonis as he makes his way to the ring. Adonis takes the mic away from the announcer and points to me in my corner.
“Hey, Brooklyn,” Adonis says. “How many hipsters does it take to change a light bulb? None. Their mom still does it for them.”
I pretend to shout insults back at Adonis. The referee checks us to make sure we don’t have anything we can use to hurt each other. Then the bell rings to start the match.
Adonis and I do a variation of the match we did for the student show. We have twenty minutes, so there’s plenty of time for a few acrobatic moves off the ropes and outside the ring. The crowd is eating it up. The match ends with me doing a backward moonsault from the top rope. Adonis moves out of the way at the last second. I hear the distinct sound of my mother’s shriek in the crowd. I want to give her the thumbs up to let her know I’m okay. But I don’t want to spoil the match.
I slowly roll out from under the bottom rope. I pretend to limp back to the dressing area. Romeo and the other wrestlers go wild.
“You nailed it,” Romeo says.
“Awesome job,” Atom adds. “You looked like a veteran up there.”
“Thanks,” I reply.
I have to wait out the rest of the show in the changing area. We’re not allowed to go back out front until the crowd is nearly gone.
After, I go to meet my parents but I’m stopped by a slap on the back.
“Great match.” It’s Ricky Flamingo. Ricky is a bottle blond and has a fake tan. His clothes can barely contain all his muscles. “What’s your name? Your real name?”
“Jorge.”
“Ricky Flamingo. You probably know me from my fed, Lion’s Gate Wrestling.”
“I’ve been to a few of your shows,” I tell him.
“You looked really good up there,” Ricky says. “How long have you been training?”
“Four months,” I tell him.
“Impressive,” Ricky says. He slips something into my pocket. “Call me.”
“Back off, Ricky.” Romeo arrives and puts himself in between us. “You’re not poaching another one of my superstars.”
“I would never do that to you,” Ricky says. “Don’t need to. I have an impressive group of students myself.”
“Cool. Send them to me if they want a real wrestling education.”
“Very funny, Romeo. I need to run,” Ricky says. He points a finger at me. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”
“God, I hate that guy,” Romeo says when Ricky’s gone.
Mom, Dad, Thom, Arshdeep and Pria all descend on me at the same time.
“What did you think, Mom?” I ask.
“You lost,” she said.
“You know the outcomes are pre-determined, right?” I ask her.
“Yeah. I was hoping Romeo would let you win your first match,” she says.
“If Jorge keeps getting that kind of response from the crowd, he’ll be winning in no time,” Romeo says.
Dad puts me in a headlock. Thom gives me a thumbs up. Arshdeep looks happy for me. But I can tell he wishes he was the one getting all this attention. This was supposed to be his moment. A part of me feels like I stole it from him.
“Do you want your mom and me to drive you home?” Dad asks.
“I was going to help take the ring down. I can get a lift from Thom after he’s done cleaning up the concession stand,” I say.
“Remember to put ice on anything that hurts before bed,” Mom says.
“I will,” I tell her.
I put my hand in my pocket as I watch the four of them walk toward the exit. Something pokes my finger. I pull it out. It’s Ricky’s business card.
On the back, he’s written, “Let’s talk!” followed by his phone number.
12
Poached
“Table for how many?” asks the hostess at the White Spot.
I look around the restaurant. Ricky Flamingo is scrolling through his phone at a booth next to the window.
“My friend is already here,” I tell her. I knock on the table to let Ricky know I’ve arrived. “Anybody home?”
“Hey, Jorge!” Ricky gets out of the booth. He slams his hand into mine like we’re old buddies. “Can I order you a beer?”
“I’m underage.”
“I doubt the waitress will mind. I think she’s hot for me,” Ricky says with a wink.
“I’m good.”
“Let’s get down to business then.” Ricky gestures to the bench across from him. “So what are the odds I could lure you to wrestle for LGW?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested. But I don’t know if I’m ready to cross that bridge yet.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
Good question. The last thing I want to do is betray Romeo. But I’ve never had my ego stroked like this before. No one has ever recognized my talents for anything. Until I started wrestling, people pointed out my shortcomings, not my strengths.
“I understand your obligation to Romeo,” Ricky says. “But Romeo knows as much as I do that his fed is a bust. You saw the crowd you wrestled for. You could be playing to a house twice that size.”
“I’ve only had one match,” I say. “There’s still a lot I need to learn.”
“The only way you’re going to get better is to wrestle in front of an audience. You were born for this. It shows in the ring.”
“Couldn’t I wait a few months?”
“This business waits for no one. Remember, there’s always someone coming up behind you. You could get injured next week.”
“Didn’t you hire Thunder after he broke Arshdeep’s arm?” I point out.
“Here’s my point. Why would you want to headline a wrestling card if no one is there to see you wrestle?” Ricky continues. “Come wrestle for me. I promise to give your career the push it deserves. A year from now, you’ll be wrestling Kyle O’Malley for the championship.”
Kyle O’Malley. The Holy Grail of indy wrestling. I should have known Ricky would play the Kyle card.
“That is tempting,” I say slowly.
“You need to decide what you’re worth. Do you want to spend the next year dragging Romeo’s broken ring to Cloverdale? Or do you want to headline a card for a sold-out crowd at the Russian Community Centre here in the city?”
“Can I have a couple of days to think about it?”
“Why don’t you come to the next show on the house? Bring a date if you want.” An alarm on Ricky’s phone goes off. “I have to run. We’ll be in touch.”
Ricky slides a couple of tickets for the next Lion’s Gate show across the table. He puts on a pair of aviator sunglasses and leaves some money for the waitress. I watch him through the window as he walks across the parking lot. He raises his hand and clicks a fob. A big white SUV blinks to life. Ricky gets in and drives away.
I can’t help but be starstruck by Ricky. Here’s a guy who was just like me not that long ago. Now he’s running his own wrestling fed.
“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asks.
“No thanks,” I say.
The waitress takes the money Ricky left for her and walks away.
* * *
Ricky was right about the size of the crowd at the Lion’s Gate Wrestling show. The Russian Community Centre is packed to the gills with marks and hipsters.
“My gimmick would really go over with this crowd,” I tell Thom as we find a seat in the balcony.
“Wouldn’t they be offended by it?”
“That’s how you get heat.”
“I’m so sick of that expression,” Thom says. I can tell he’s annoyed. Which makes me annoyed with him.
Ricky’s ring looks brand new. The ring apron doesn’t have patches covering up holes. The ropes are all one colour, not held together with electrical tape. There’s a big screen flashing graphics and video clips. Four video cameras are aimed at the ring in the centre of the dance floor.
“This is the WWE for a fifth of the budget,” I say.
“I thought the WWE was an evil corporation that chews up wrestlers and spits them out.”
“Apple uses cheap labour, but you own an iPhone.”
Thom raises his eyebrows and looks away. I really should have invited Arshdeep instead of Thom.
The show has a party atmosphere. The crowd gets into the matches, shouting and jeering at the wrestlers. The Schlepp sisters have prime seats near the ring. Some members of the audience are holding up signs. More importantly, they’re buying T-shirts and photos at the merchandise table.
And then I see the one person I hoped I would never see again. Thunder runs into the ring to interrupt a match. It’s to give the wrestler he’s managing an unfair advantage so he can win the match, which the wrestler does. Thunder is wearing a second-hand suit. Ricky is so slick, he can even make Thunder look good.
“Is it me or is every match ending with a low blow or chair across the head?” Thom asks.
“This fed is a little more extreme than Romeo’s.”
“I noticed that when the whole room started chanting ‘fag’ during the second match.”
“You can’t take that seriously. Most of the people aren’t that much older than we are. Do you really think they’re homophobic?”
“Yes.”
For the main event, Ricky defends his title belt against Kyle O’Malley. The crowd goes nuts when Ricky wins with a low blow.
* * *
After the show Thom and I drive over to Davie Street. We go to one of the gay restaurants that doesn’t require ID.
“So you hated the show,” I ask him over dinner.
“Hate is not a family value. But I don’t think it’s your style.”
“You don’t think I’m good enough to wrestle for Ricky?”
“I think you’re better than that. You saw those wrestlers. Most, if not all, of them were on steroids. And the women wrestlers, my God. The only difference between them and strippers was a pole.”
“But those wrestlers are working up and down the coast. Some of them are even getting bookings in Japan!”
“And you can’t get that wrestling for Romeo?”
“Maybe in about fifty years.”
“I think you’re being blinded by the bright lights. If you keep working, you are going to get what you want. It’s happening. Can’t you see that?”
“So I should just keep doing what I’m doing.”
“For the time being. If Ricky thinks you’re this great prodigy, he’s still going to think so a year from now. You’re the one with the bargaining chip. He needs you as much you need him.”
“And what would you do if I decided to change my allegiance to a different fed?”
“You make it sound like a kingdom in some epic fantasy.”
“That’s what it is.”
“I’ll support you any way that I can. But I’m going to say this now in case you get any ideas. I will not tolerate steroids. Also, I’m willing to keep our relationship on the down-low so you can climb the ranks. But I’m not going to put up with blatant homophobia.”
“I’m glad you got that off your chest.”
“So are you going to go wrestle for Ricky?”
“I still haven’t decided,” I tell him.
But I had.
13
Betrayal
I call Romeo to ask him to meet me at the School of Hard Knocks before practice. It takes me forever to reassure him. He thinks I’m in some sort of trouble or got into a fight with my parents. I�
�m not looking forward to our conversation all the same.
Romeo is making repairs to the ring when I arrive. He looks peaceful and kind of old. He has his headphones on and doesn’t hear me come in. I watch him as he finishes taping the top rope. Then he runs back and forth across the ring to test his work. The years fly off his face. I hope I’m in as good shape as he is at his age.
Romeo stops mid-flight when he sees me. I’m still standing at the door.
“Want a quick match on the new canvas?” he asks.
“Sure!”
I love wrestling Romeo. It doesn’t matter what hold he puts on me. I barely feel it until he squeezes my arm to signal to reverse the hold. We wrestle for about fifteen minutes, making it up as we go along. Thom was telling me about how jazz players improvise notes when they play. That’s it how it feels wrestling Romeo. It’s like singing at the top of your lungs without using your voice.
“I needed that,” Romeo says after our match. “It’s like dancing when no one is watching. I wish I could do it by myself, like masturbating.”
“Too much information, Romeo.”
“Get over yourself, Jorge. I’ve seen what you kids look at on the Internet. So what do you need to tell me?”
“I had a meeting with Ricky Flamingo. I’m crossing over to Lion’s Gate Wrestling.” I can’t look Romeo in the face as I say it.
“After all I’ve done for you?” The look on Romeo’s face reminds me of my father’s the day I got expelled. “I put my faith in you. And now you’re ripping my heart out.”
“It’s too good a chance to pass up,” I explain. “If it wasn’t for Arshdeep breaking his arm, it would have been three months before I even made my debut.”
“That’s not true and you know it! I’ve treated you like a son!”
“I already have a dad, Romeo. I don’t need another one.”
“So that’s how little you respect me.”
“This isn’t about you. Maybe I’m thinking about myself.”
“I am thinking about you, Jorge. Ricky isn’t poaching you with your best interests in mind. He’s doing it to put me out of business.”