Post by Alex Kiseragi on Jul 26, 2009 17:48:26 GMT -5
EI8HT - 23/08/08
Battleground Qualifier
Survival Match
Alex Kiseragi
vs.
Captain Savior
vs.
Chris Austin
vs.
Donovan Hastings
w/Calypso Desmona
Referee: Owen Peterson
Winners: Alex Kiseragi and Chris Austin
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scene’s set in a dingy sports bar somewhere on the west coast. The bar itself lines two thirds of the left wall as you enter the front door. The right side is lined with a number of booths, beaten worn leather wrapped seats around shaky uneven circular tables. There are lights on the ceiling designed to illuminate the whole area although less than half of the bulbs work with any kind of consistency. The only reliable lighting is that shining down over the bar itself.
Despite it’s unpleasant appearance the place is almost full, an atmospheric, characterful place that had long since become a favourite of a hardcore group of local sports fans. From all around the room people are looking up at the flat screen TV behind the bar, standing out hugely and by far the most expensive thing in the area. On the screen we can see Michael Phelps on an Olympic podium receiving his eighth and final gold medal.
Looking closer through the crowd, sat together at the end of the bar are two Japanese men, one in his mid twenties, tidily presented with an athletic physique. To his right an elder man, his black hair starting to thin at the back and grey around the edges with a body that though once matched the younger man beside him, has gone soft with age. They sit quietly, less enthralled by the scenes going on across the ocean then their company. They speak Japanese keeping their conversation private despite the crowded surroundings.
“Can you imagine what that must be like?” Alex’s father, Yasutoki asks, gesturing towards the screen with the top of his half empty beer bottle.
Alex glances up from the spot on the bar that had held his attention for the best part of the last hour. “Not yet…”
“Yet? You planning on being there sometime?” Yasutoki asks with a thin smile. Alex slowly shakes his head and takes another small drink from his bottle.
“No, I don’t see them making pro-wrestling an Olympic event.”
Alex’s father sighs and drops his head, shaking it. “You still doing that?”
“You know I am Dad, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’d been hoping it was a phase.”
“I’m twenty six, I don’t go through phases anymore. This is what I love doing.” Alex frowns, clearly annoyed by his Father’s remarks.
“How are you ever going to know what that feels like then?” he asks more sternly, gesturing towards the screen again. “You could have been a great gymnast you know.”
“Yeah yeah, so you always say, but I’m not passionate about gymnastics.”
“So what then?”
“A GiW title.”
Yasutoki scoffs as he takes another long drink from his bottle, laughing slightly as he lowers it from his lips bringing another annoyed frown from his son. “You really compare one of those belts to a gold medal?”
“Yeah, actually I do.”
Yasutoki scoffs again. “Like they’d even let a Japanese man win a title in America.”
“You should pay attention sometimes, the current Global champion is from Kyoto.” Alex replies, drinking slowly and making no attempt to hide the smug grin on his face at catching his father out.
“Yeah well, how are you going to then?” the older man cut back, trying to regain his argument.
“I’m only three matches away actually. I win my match this week and I go into the Battleground. I win there and I have the match of my choice at Horizons. There I win my first big title on the biggest stage of the year. That, I think will match a little medal for swimming fast.”
Yasutoki nods slowly and half heartedly, taking in what his sons saying but not entirely understanding and still not approving. “You think you can do that?”
“I do. It’s just as you always said. I have to just seize the moment, one at a time.”
“Hmph.”
“That all you gotta say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, maybe that you’re proud of me. Maybe that you’ll come see me win at Horizons.”
Yasutoki looks down into his bottle, saying nothing. Alex shakes his head and downs the last of his bottle before slamming it onto the bar.
“Whatever…” he says as he gets up. “…thanks for the drink.” With that The Dragon pulls his coat on and walks away, not looking back. There’s a long journey ahead and the first step is in four days. He would be ready.
Battleground Qualifier
Survival Match
Alex Kiseragi
vs.
Captain Savior
vs.
Chris Austin
vs.
Donovan Hastings
w/Calypso Desmona
Referee: Owen Peterson
Winners: Alex Kiseragi and Chris Austin
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scene’s set in a dingy sports bar somewhere on the west coast. The bar itself lines two thirds of the left wall as you enter the front door. The right side is lined with a number of booths, beaten worn leather wrapped seats around shaky uneven circular tables. There are lights on the ceiling designed to illuminate the whole area although less than half of the bulbs work with any kind of consistency. The only reliable lighting is that shining down over the bar itself.
Despite it’s unpleasant appearance the place is almost full, an atmospheric, characterful place that had long since become a favourite of a hardcore group of local sports fans. From all around the room people are looking up at the flat screen TV behind the bar, standing out hugely and by far the most expensive thing in the area. On the screen we can see Michael Phelps on an Olympic podium receiving his eighth and final gold medal.
Looking closer through the crowd, sat together at the end of the bar are two Japanese men, one in his mid twenties, tidily presented with an athletic physique. To his right an elder man, his black hair starting to thin at the back and grey around the edges with a body that though once matched the younger man beside him, has gone soft with age. They sit quietly, less enthralled by the scenes going on across the ocean then their company. They speak Japanese keeping their conversation private despite the crowded surroundings.
“Can you imagine what that must be like?” Alex’s father, Yasutoki asks, gesturing towards the screen with the top of his half empty beer bottle.
Alex glances up from the spot on the bar that had held his attention for the best part of the last hour. “Not yet…”
“Yet? You planning on being there sometime?” Yasutoki asks with a thin smile. Alex slowly shakes his head and takes another small drink from his bottle.
“No, I don’t see them making pro-wrestling an Olympic event.”
Alex’s father sighs and drops his head, shaking it. “You still doing that?”
“You know I am Dad, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’d been hoping it was a phase.”
“I’m twenty six, I don’t go through phases anymore. This is what I love doing.” Alex frowns, clearly annoyed by his Father’s remarks.
“How are you ever going to know what that feels like then?” he asks more sternly, gesturing towards the screen again. “You could have been a great gymnast you know.”
“Yeah yeah, so you always say, but I’m not passionate about gymnastics.”
“So what then?”
“A GiW title.”
Yasutoki scoffs as he takes another long drink from his bottle, laughing slightly as he lowers it from his lips bringing another annoyed frown from his son. “You really compare one of those belts to a gold medal?”
“Yeah, actually I do.”
Yasutoki scoffs again. “Like they’d even let a Japanese man win a title in America.”
“You should pay attention sometimes, the current Global champion is from Kyoto.” Alex replies, drinking slowly and making no attempt to hide the smug grin on his face at catching his father out.
“Yeah well, how are you going to then?” the older man cut back, trying to regain his argument.
“I’m only three matches away actually. I win my match this week and I go into the Battleground. I win there and I have the match of my choice at Horizons. There I win my first big title on the biggest stage of the year. That, I think will match a little medal for swimming fast.”
Yasutoki nods slowly and half heartedly, taking in what his sons saying but not entirely understanding and still not approving. “You think you can do that?”
“I do. It’s just as you always said. I have to just seize the moment, one at a time.”
“Hmph.”
“That all you gotta say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, maybe that you’re proud of me. Maybe that you’ll come see me win at Horizons.”
Yasutoki looks down into his bottle, saying nothing. Alex shakes his head and downs the last of his bottle before slamming it onto the bar.
“Whatever…” he says as he gets up. “…thanks for the drink.” With that The Dragon pulls his coat on and walks away, not looking back. There’s a long journey ahead and the first step is in four days. He would be ready.
x2