The First Cut is the Deepest....I hoped

I wrestled under the name of Deathwish for about 6 years....Flying off the tops ropes and slamming into the mat took its toll many times. This is a a true account of one of the first matches I was in

The First Cut is the Deepest...I Hope

My eyes were burning from the blood that poured from my scalp.  I had only been wrestling for three and a half months, only three matches under my non-championship belt, I hadn’t even gotten my tights yet! and here I was face-down on a wooden floor looking like a blood-faucet had been installed in my head and a three-hundred pound monster laughing at my pain. No one could see what had happened yet, the crowd was still cheering from the impressive move that my opponent had performed on me. Fair enough, it looked pretty cool to have him toss me like toy from the ground only to have my progress stopped by the steel ring post and my head trying to occupy the same space.  In practice it had gone perfectly (and safely). Now with the adrenaline of the match and the cheers of the crowd I am sure it looked remarkable...to those in the building who were not blinded by their own blood.  The crowd was still cheering and chanting my name as I began to pick myself up and the juice was no longer damned by my stained hands.  Suddenly “He’s bleeding!” was heard.  I finally stood upright trying not to slip in the pool of blood on the floor.  I stared dead into the eyes of my rival who looked down at me from inside the ring.  The crowd had gone silent now in wonder as I clambered back into the ring and my hand unsuccessfully tried to smear my eyes clean.  Bulldog MacBain, the man who had caused this drama, didn’t wait for me to be ready...he was a villain after all.  A quick kick to the gut with his size 12 and I was back on my face and knees. 

“You’re a Jerk!”

Was that the same lady who had proclaimed the arrival of blood?  I still didn’t even know which way was up or down so there was no way to know where a particular voice emanated.  The sadistic laughter that responded most certainly came from Bulldog though.

The man-giant I was wrestling was leaving me alone on the mat for a moment while he launched insults at the fuming spectators.  Still trying to wipe my eyes clear I weaved my fingers through my head trying to locate the gash.  “MOTHER OF ZEUS!”   ...I found it.

It was not so much the wound that disturbed me, it was the fact that there was still another ten minutes left in the match and I still had a high risk move off the top ropes planned! “Why do I do this!?!”  Then I heard them: the crowd.  Their chanting of my name revitalized me.  Oh yeah!  THAT’s why!  The guys in the locker room had bestowed the name Deathwish on me a month earlier...time to earn my name.  Standing...ok...let’s be realistic...pulling myself up in the corner of the ring I gestured for the Bulldog to come over and “face me like a man you filthy canine!”

Blood and sweat spewed through the air as our mêlée grew in intensity. Still partially blind I raged against the man over twice my size flying into him, kicking him, three of my blows equalled one of his but I kept swinging.  Finally I knocked the beast to his knees and a final kick to the head put him on his back. 

An eerie sense of tranquility nestled upon me as it was now time for me to go to my comfort zone.  A small smile as I climbed to the top ropes showed me blood-stained teeth as the fluid poured from my head down to my mouth.  Bulldog-- who was now also covered in my blood -- laid out on the mat below me.  Finally, it was time for me to shine.  Still pouring blood I performed the best war cry I could muster and leapt off the turnbuckle.  This is why the crowd chants my name; this is why I am their hero in this match!  With my elbow hitting its target right in the heart of my enemy I grabbed his leg expecting to hear the three-count of the referee...no such luck.  The referee counts to two and then just walks away as Bulldog tosses me off of him.

Now I have been split open, tossed and slammed all over the ring, and robbed of a victory!  “Screw this!”  Flinging myself off the ropes with drop-kicking the freak of nature on my mind I saw only the flash of a fist of he caught me between the eyes and dropped me for a quick count performed by his allied-official. 

There is nothing worse than the exit of adrenaline.  All the aches and pains hit suddenly and without remorse.  The taste of blood filled my mouth and the canopy or red continued to blind me.  To make it worse, Bulldog’s victory music was ringing through my ears.  At that moment, I hated everything.  But I also knew that very soon I would do it all again and that time it would be my  victory music echoing through the arena.