Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2021 7:21:24 GMT -5
Fathers Son (off-cam)[/u]
It had been a long road trip from Reno to Indy to Edmonton, but it was finally done as I pulled to the driveway of my house, slipping the classic ‘69 Vette into the garage and shut the engine down. “So, how was your first taste of the wrestlers circuit?” I quipped over my shoulder as I got out of the car and went for the trunk. It was aimed at Donny, who had been riding with me the whole way. The kid was stretching himself in a dozen different ways as he got up, giving me a stink eye as he did.
“Fucking hell old man, this car was NOT designed for someone as big as me. Can we just fly next time?” He was slightly irritated, and for a good reason. The Vette was a great car, but he was right. It was never meant for long trips or for people bigger than the average. I had gotten used to the crampedness over the years but he had 4 inches on me and it mattered. I was chuckling under my breath as I made my way into the house and threw my gearbag on the laundry room. When I got back to the living room I saw Donny had already spread himself on the couch. So I took the recliner across it.
“Discomfort aside, which by the way, is part and parcel of the business, how was the trip?” I was suppressing a grin. I had warned him that the trip probably wasn’t gonna be comfortable, but he had shrugged it off with the impudence of youth. So I was kinda enjoying his misery. He sighed and shrugged.
“It was alright I think. Seeing what goes on behind the scenes at the matches was a bit of an eye-opener. Still don’t understand why you didn’t introduce me as your son though. This whole “This is Donny, he’s a kid I’m training” schtick combined with the fact that you didn’t really introduce me to anyone worthwhile is kinda irritating.”
I knew he was gonna ask about that. I had hoped he didn’t but I knew he would. It was a conscious decision by me. “For your own benefit kiddo. I haven’t talked about this really, but if you are serious about making it in the business, you’re better off doing it as your own man. Not as my kid.”
Donny threw me a questioning glance. “Why? I thought the biz was traditionally big on second generation wrestlers.”
I sighed. “Yeah, it is. But it comes with a downside. If you go out there as my kid, whether you use my name or not, you’re gonna be judged by my merits. Usually it ain’t that bad. But you know just as well as I do that my reputation isn’t exactly stellar. Hell, as Donald Mason you could probably go back home to the UK and get work on the circuit there. But as the kid of Don Tirri you wouldn’t be let into the building as a spectator. It’s not AS bad over here, but you still got a better shot at making it as your own man. Naming me as your trainer is gonna be tough enough as it is.”
Donny fell silent, contemplating my words. He finally sat up and looked right at me. And when he spoke, his words were measured. “For 20 years I wondered who my father was. Why he left my mom to raise me alone. What kind of a man he was. Now I have an answer to all three questions. You might have a reputation old man. But I’ll take the burden of that reputation over not having a dad in the first place every time. Because I’ve seen that the picture your reputation paints isn’t all you are. You’re more than just a hothead loudmouth asshole. And believe it or not old man, I would rather take all the shit in the world for being your son, than try to make it on my own.”
And probably for the first time in my life I was speechless. I hadn’t considered this even a possibility. I had been so caught up in my own perception of things I hadn’t stopped to think what Donny wanted. And I didn’t know how to respond, I just sat there, dumbfounded. Donny saw that. He waited for a few moments before getting up and disappearing into the kitchen, leaving me to my thoughts.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. The idea of seeing MY son in that ring with everyone aware who he takes after isn’t an unpleasant one. In a way it would be my way to tell the business and all those in it who never gave me an ounce of respect that “fuck you, now that I can’t go anymore you STILL won’t be able to get rid of me.” And hell. Donny could very well be even better than me. He was bigger. He was stronger. He was younger. And he had something I lacked when I was his age. Someone he listens to. I never did. Hell. maybe one day my reputation would be whitewashed by virtue of being “The dad of Donny Mason” or… “The dad of Don Tirri” And if Donny wants that… who am I to deny him?
I don’t know how long I sat there deep in thought, but I suddenly snapped aware as I saw a beer can appear in my field of vision. I looked up and saw Donny standing next to me, offering the can. “You gonna take it or should I just stand here until the cows come home?” he quipped with a small grin. I grabbed the can and cracked it open, taking a sip of it as Donny sat down on the couch. “So. You finally managed to pick your jaw off the floor?”
“You sure about what you said Donny? Cause once the cat's outta the bag there ain’t no turnin back. Once the word goes out, you can’t shake it.”
“Old man, do you honestly think I’d say something like that without actually meaning it? This shit ain’t any easier on me than it is on you you know. So yeah. I'm 100% certain of it.”
I emptied the can on one go and chuckled. “Fuck me. No actually, fuck IT. Anyone asks, you’re my kid. Time to ramp up your training so you might be able to get some shit done in the ring eventually.”
Donny cracked his beer open as well and returned the chuckle. “Anytime old man. My schedule is as empty as yours”
It had been a long road trip from Reno to Indy to Edmonton, but it was finally done as I pulled to the driveway of my house, slipping the classic ‘69 Vette into the garage and shut the engine down. “So, how was your first taste of the wrestlers circuit?” I quipped over my shoulder as I got out of the car and went for the trunk. It was aimed at Donny, who had been riding with me the whole way. The kid was stretching himself in a dozen different ways as he got up, giving me a stink eye as he did.
“Fucking hell old man, this car was NOT designed for someone as big as me. Can we just fly next time?” He was slightly irritated, and for a good reason. The Vette was a great car, but he was right. It was never meant for long trips or for people bigger than the average. I had gotten used to the crampedness over the years but he had 4 inches on me and it mattered. I was chuckling under my breath as I made my way into the house and threw my gearbag on the laundry room. When I got back to the living room I saw Donny had already spread himself on the couch. So I took the recliner across it.
“Discomfort aside, which by the way, is part and parcel of the business, how was the trip?” I was suppressing a grin. I had warned him that the trip probably wasn’t gonna be comfortable, but he had shrugged it off with the impudence of youth. So I was kinda enjoying his misery. He sighed and shrugged.
“It was alright I think. Seeing what goes on behind the scenes at the matches was a bit of an eye-opener. Still don’t understand why you didn’t introduce me as your son though. This whole “This is Donny, he’s a kid I’m training” schtick combined with the fact that you didn’t really introduce me to anyone worthwhile is kinda irritating.”
I knew he was gonna ask about that. I had hoped he didn’t but I knew he would. It was a conscious decision by me. “For your own benefit kiddo. I haven’t talked about this really, but if you are serious about making it in the business, you’re better off doing it as your own man. Not as my kid.”
Donny threw me a questioning glance. “Why? I thought the biz was traditionally big on second generation wrestlers.”
I sighed. “Yeah, it is. But it comes with a downside. If you go out there as my kid, whether you use my name or not, you’re gonna be judged by my merits. Usually it ain’t that bad. But you know just as well as I do that my reputation isn’t exactly stellar. Hell, as Donald Mason you could probably go back home to the UK and get work on the circuit there. But as the kid of Don Tirri you wouldn’t be let into the building as a spectator. It’s not AS bad over here, but you still got a better shot at making it as your own man. Naming me as your trainer is gonna be tough enough as it is.”
Donny fell silent, contemplating my words. He finally sat up and looked right at me. And when he spoke, his words were measured. “For 20 years I wondered who my father was. Why he left my mom to raise me alone. What kind of a man he was. Now I have an answer to all three questions. You might have a reputation old man. But I’ll take the burden of that reputation over not having a dad in the first place every time. Because I’ve seen that the picture your reputation paints isn’t all you are. You’re more than just a hothead loudmouth asshole. And believe it or not old man, I would rather take all the shit in the world for being your son, than try to make it on my own.”
And probably for the first time in my life I was speechless. I hadn’t considered this even a possibility. I had been so caught up in my own perception of things I hadn’t stopped to think what Donny wanted. And I didn’t know how to respond, I just sat there, dumbfounded. Donny saw that. He waited for a few moments before getting up and disappearing into the kitchen, leaving me to my thoughts.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. The idea of seeing MY son in that ring with everyone aware who he takes after isn’t an unpleasant one. In a way it would be my way to tell the business and all those in it who never gave me an ounce of respect that “fuck you, now that I can’t go anymore you STILL won’t be able to get rid of me.” And hell. Donny could very well be even better than me. He was bigger. He was stronger. He was younger. And he had something I lacked when I was his age. Someone he listens to. I never did. Hell. maybe one day my reputation would be whitewashed by virtue of being “The dad of Donny Mason” or… “The dad of Don Tirri” And if Donny wants that… who am I to deny him?
I don’t know how long I sat there deep in thought, but I suddenly snapped aware as I saw a beer can appear in my field of vision. I looked up and saw Donny standing next to me, offering the can. “You gonna take it or should I just stand here until the cows come home?” he quipped with a small grin. I grabbed the can and cracked it open, taking a sip of it as Donny sat down on the couch. “So. You finally managed to pick your jaw off the floor?”
“You sure about what you said Donny? Cause once the cat's outta the bag there ain’t no turnin back. Once the word goes out, you can’t shake it.”
“Old man, do you honestly think I’d say something like that without actually meaning it? This shit ain’t any easier on me than it is on you you know. So yeah. I'm 100% certain of it.”
I emptied the can on one go and chuckled. “Fuck me. No actually, fuck IT. Anyone asks, you’re my kid. Time to ramp up your training so you might be able to get some shit done in the ring eventually.”
Donny cracked his beer open as well and returned the chuckle. “Anytime old man. My schedule is as empty as yours”