Okay, so I recently told you about how it feels to wrestle a
veteran in this game. Working Mr. Hughes
was a great learning experience for yours truly. This next story.. ..eh, not so much.
One night, I went to Ft. Valley’s AWN. I’d frequented AWN for years since my career
started. I remained the unfortunate
target of Simon Sermon’s classic “male camel toe” jokes, but that’s another
story. This was around the time my
cousin Kimbro aka Mr. Jones was booking the place. Bro’s booking style was notorious. He was known for using the position to put
himself in main events at other people’s expense. The concept isn’t foreign in wrestling by any
means but he was just blatant with it.
So one night, we were doing a show and in walks a guy that we hear is
from the Pacific Northwest territory of old.
I’m shuffling around trying to figure out who this guy is. I’d always followed that territory through
PWI magazine and the like. Eventually, I
found out who he was.
Carl Styles.
Yep, Carl Styles – two times over the NWA Pacific Northwest
champion in the late 1980’s. So I’m
thinking it’s gonna be great to work another guy who’s been up and down the
road. But here was the thing about
Carl: he was rigid. Dude was unflinching when it came to
working. He pretty much vetoed anything
during the match that did not favor him.
So I figured I’d try to make the best of a bad situation. We begin to wrestle and I go into some simple
chain wrestling with the guy. I’m
working his arm and twisting the damn thing.
I learned early on that you can sell the emotion in a match and draw
people in with facial expressions. So
here I am twisting the shit out of his wrist.
I’m standing up and he’s in the ring on one knee….
…with a facial expression reminiscent of the iconic
Thinker’s statue.
Now, legend has it that Carl had a severe eye injury during
his earlier wrestling days. So I didn’t
know if he was having a moment of gogglely-eyed confusion or what. So by this time, I’m pissed. My first instinct is to kick the shit out of
him for not selling, but I digressed.
That was the old me. Somehow, we
got out of that and he took over. I
forget most of the match but I remember one part. The 50-year Cyclops grabs me for a gut-wrench
suplex and damn near broke my neck after dropping me headfirst on the mat. Thank God I learned how to tuck my chin. Eventually I lost the match but I was glad it
was over. The only consolation I got
from wrestling that match was afterwards.
I was in the locker room and Michael Stevens aka Marv sat in front of me
and said “Velvet, man I’m sorry. I’m so
you had to go through that, man”.
Appreciate that.
Turns out Styles had blown some smoke up Bro’s ass. Styles said that he was going to take the
footage of the match with him to Puerto Rico in an effort to gain more exposure
for AWN. Bro inhaled the toxic fumes and
never heard from Styles again. Neither
did I, but I ain’t complaining. So
easily stated, all veterans aren’t great to work with because they’re
veterans. Styles bragged about being a
tag champion with one of the Guerreros and holding some belts I’d never heard
of. Nonetheless, it was a learning experience. Happy I survived. Even happier I can still walk!
Fin.
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