7am on Lummus Park Beach here in Miami.
I’ve been out here for over an hour already and enjoying the sunrise while having some time to be alone with my own thoughts. I did exactly what my therapist suggested the other day and that was to go back to my house and try to work things out with Madison.
With the help of my sister Bailey, I managed to get Madison to at least speak to me or whatever the woman’s equivalent of listening while having an attitude is called. I agreed to allow Madison to resume her services as my manager and travel companion starting this Sunday night at Chaos. It was the right thing to do since she’s also a native Floridian and denying her the chance to see me in the main event in front of the people of Miami where I’m facing Tyler Adrian Best in an LSD vs. ICON Championship match would be unforgivable.
Madison agreed in principle to that deal but that did nothing to mend the fences or hurt feelings that I caused.
For now, that’s all I could do. I wasn’t going to waste precious time on trying to kiss Madison’s ass just to try to get her to bury the hatchet. This is the biggest match I’ve had since I made my return to professional wrestling. My first defense of the HOW LSD Championship belt since I won it from Jatt Starr.
There were so many things swirling inside of my head.
The thought of being ICON Champion once again. The fact that Tyler was a sociopath that might literally murder me in the middle of that ring if it meant getting his hand raised in victory. My loss to Conor Fuse on last week’s Chaos. The constant nuisance known as Bobbinette Carey and her pursuit of STRONK. Talking to STRONK and patching things up after we went at each other at Dead or Alive over Carey. TAL or whatever the fuck it is that he is calling himself on any given day. My mother’s divorce, Dennis Brown pressing charges against me. The upcoming trial for that. The prospect of my biological father just stepping up to my door and into my life at any possible moment. And of course, everything going on with OCW just to name a few but I tuned out all of that noise.
None of that mattered right now. Not on Sunday night.
My focus was on walking out still the HOW LSD Champion. Becoming the last ever HOW ICON Champion. And of course, the man that stood in the way of those accomplishments. Is the man that won War Games in his 2nd fucking match in HOW. The man that hasn’t had his shoulders pinned to the canvas as of yet inside of an HOW ring.
The GOD of SONS Tyler Adrian Best.
Logistically, walking into the match I have the experience advantage. I have the size advantage and the strength advantage. Yet, in the view of most? I am the underdog walking into this match. I’m not going to be able to make his speed and quickness. He’s going to have the ground game advantage over me. For someone that is only 18 years old the little bastard is well rounded as fuck. He’s salivating at the prospect adding the notch known as Jace Parker Davidson to his belt. He’s got way more burning desire than I do… or at least he thinks that he does. I really hope at some point before Sunday night he goes and talks to his father about me. I hope he finds his grandfather and asks about just what makes Jace Parker Davidson tick.
They have both experienced it.
They have seen the sleeping beast inside of me that when awoken had Lee Best go convince Christopher America that it was a good idea to forfeit the HOW ICON Championship to me. A token of good faith to add me to The Best Alliance rather than fighting me straight up. The superhuman known as JPD that was forced to enter War Games 2016 first and face off against the rest of the opposition by Lee Best. All of this before any other members of Team 4CW were allowed to enter the cage. The man that took the beating of a lifetime. The man that still managed to make Lee Best Bend the Knee from the top rope. The man that went the distance and would have won back-to-back War Games matches if not for the interference of Jason Cashe and members of the EPU.
The man that was the thorn in your father’s side.
The man that came out of left fucking field to win Solitary Confinement in the main event of RATR in his rookie year as an HOW wrestler. The man that pinned Michael Lee Best to win his first HOW World Championship belt. The man that had the golden shovel pressed against his throat long before beheading other wrestlers was cool. That was buried over and over again by Michael Lee Best and his merry band of mouthy parrots that tried to get rid of me. Only for me to rise out of that poorly constructed grave with the fury of a thousand sun’s to defeat Michael Lee Best one on one to take the LSD Championship belt away from him.
A man that had such profound impact on your father that I went from public enemy #1 to someone he actually liked and respected.
That is the man you’re stepping into the ring with on Sunday night, Tyler. You’re not facing the washed-up Jace Parker Davidson. You’re not facing a man that has coasted to wins since he returned to the ring. You’re not facing the former Conqueror of HOW.
You’re going one on one with THE Conqueror of HOW.
That’s the thing about a burning desire that is just about snuffed out completely. It can be easily ignited once again, and everyone knows I love to play with fire. The gasoline to this inferno is called fear, Tyler. Frankly, I’m scared of you and what you’re capable of doing. I’d looked into the dark abyss that is your soul and it would give someone like JJR a case of chronic bed wetting. I can see the bloodlust in your eyes. I looked Death in the eye, and he blinked first but with you? That motherfucker is breathing down the back of my neck. I’m scared of you taking my surgically repaired neck and manipulating my spinal column like a Rubik Cube. I am scared of you going to the lengths of making me this generation’s Stephen Hawking which would be a fate worse than death.
More than anything? I’m scared of failure and the reality that I am not able to cut it against the best of the best anymore.
Not now, not in the main event in Miami, Florida. Not in front of the people that praise a guy that was born in New York City as a hometown hero. Not in front of the people that could walk by me on a beach just like this one. People that could catch a glimpse of me eating an overpriced steak inside of a semi fancy restaurant.
That cannot be an option on Sunday night.
I don’t care if I have to comb this entire beach for a radioactive spider. If I have to find a descendant of Bruce Lee and rub that motherfucker on my bare skin like a stick of deodorant. Or if I have to hunt down Bobbinette Carey and stare eye to eye with her bare vagina.
Whatever is going to bring back that superhuman ability even just for this one night then I’ll do it.
I’m going to fucking do anything to win. I will cut years off of my life and my career for those three seconds. Three simple seconds to keep your shoulders pinned down to that canvas. Just to keep the LSD Championship. Just to get my hand raised in victory. Just so random strangers whose only connection to me is that we both live in the same metropolitan area will stand and cheer for me for one fleeting moment at the end of the night.
That is what my life amounts to Tyler.
This moment. This validation. This legacy. It is the oxygen that I breathe. It’s the thing that keeps my heart beating. I have all the material items in the world, but THIS is the only thing that matters.
My career, my friends, my family, and your life.
All of them are mere collateral damage in the grand scheme of me standing in that spotlight for one night longer.
I’m a shallow, misogynistic, selfish, and terrible human being.
Your demons are passed down through the Best family lineage.
My demons raised me into the creature that I am today. They taught me to be all of the worst things in this world. They were the shield for a 14-year-old boy in a cruel society that wanted to swallow me whole. They tuck me in at night whether I’m at home or on the road and they whisper graphic details of my own demise into my ears.
My lullabies are what normal people call severe mental illness.
I don’t need help.
I need to survive.
I need to win.
I need to conquer HOW once again.
This is my addiction, and I will inject myself into your bloodstream until it ravages your body faster than Fisher Price feelings devoured the OCW roster.
I will get that fix.
For one night, I will be at the peak of that mountain.
And that is a high that money can’t buy.
Saturday afternoon in Miami, Florida or better known as the day before Chaos 007 from The FTX Arena. The closer the Chaos event got the more the city was buzzing over getting a live HOW show here in our little slice of heaven. I had a literal fuckton of requests to do all different kinds of promotion of the Chaos event and that’s why I was down here at the building where the 560 WQAM radio shows were broadcasted from.
I was slated to be a guest on the Hochman & Crowder show. Inside of the studio were the normal bells and whistles that go along with producing a quality AM radio show. The two hosts made small talk during a commercial break and went over the things that they wanted to interview me about. Of course, they asked for autographs at the end of the show along with pictures and even tickets to tomorrow night’s show.
I put on the headset before taking a sip from the bottle of water that I was provided. The LSD Championship belt was around my waist, and I placed my hands on it as I tried to manifest victory in my mind. That I wouldn’t be just a one and done HOW LSD Champion. I rolled my neck to loosen up a bit as the On Air sign lit up and the show was on the road.
“Welcome back ladies and gentlemen to the Hochman & Crowder show. I’m Marc Hochman alongside the multi-talented Channing Crowder.” Says Hochman.
“I’m excited for this next segment.” Responds Crowder.
“Absolutely and it’s a big one. I want to talk about the special event happening on Sunday night live from the FTX arena. It is High Octane Wrestling Chaos number double 0 seven and in the main event of the evening is a match that is going to be quite the bang on. Did I say that right?” Hochman laughs awkwardly.
“The term is banger. It’s going to be a banger. Bang on is something we’re not allowed to talk about on the air.” Both men chuckle.
“It is called a LSD Champion vs. ICON Champion match. What makes this even better is that it will feature one of our own. A man that lives right here in Miami and he was gracious enough to join us in the studio here today. I am talking about the reigning HOW LSD Champion Jace Parker Davidson. Thank you for the time today, Jace.” Hochman says into his microphone while looking over at me.
“Not a problem. Glad to be here with you fine gentlemen today.” I mustered a smile as I spoke.
“I want to ask you just how excited or nervous you are to be wrestling tomorrow night in the main event. With all that is at stake, right here in your own backyard?” Hochman asked but it felt like an interrogation.
“I’m excited as a man can possibly be about getting to wrestle in the main event of an HOW show right here in Miami. It’s one of those bucket lists items that you’re not quite sure that is going to ever happen before you hang them up for good but it’s happening and that’s pretty damn awesome. However, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I have all the nerves in the world about this. I’m used to stepping inside of arenas all over the world and getting booed out of the building just because I am who I am. But tomorrow night? People are going to pack into that arena and pay their hard-earned money to see me. To cheer for me and hopefully get to see my hand raised in victory at the end of the night.” I said in a sincere tone.
“Aren’t you used to people coming to see you regardless of the location? You have been pretty damn successful in your career.” Crowder added.
“Yeah, that’s true but this is so much different. I’ve lived here in Miami for a long damn time and these people here are bigger fans of my work than anyone else on the planet. These are the people that come up to me while I stand in the checkout aisle at the grocery store and geek out. They are so much more invested in this, and all of that pressure is just sitting right on my shoulders. I want to give them a show that they’ve never seen. I want to send them home happy and satisfied because they got to see me triumph in battle at the end of the night.” I nodded confidently at my own comment.
“You’ve been called the Workhouse of professional wrestling and with good reason but why don’t you give us the scoop on what really happened in OCW better known as Online Championship Wrestling.” Hochman was getting right to the meat and potatoes of this interview.
“Well, long story short. My friends Garry ‘Ray-Ray’ Nelson and GREAT SCOTT were fired from OCW over dubious reasons, and I took a day or so to think about what happened and decided to leave as well. The amount of effort that I was putting in wasn’t worth all of the drama. But I’m not going to discuss OCW here today.” I state as politely as I could.
“It seems like your opponent Tyler Adrian Best had quite a few words to say about OCW.” Crowder decided to keep pressing the issue.
“He did and all I’m going to say about that is Tyler wasn’t wrong about anything that he said concerning OCW. If people want to hear my thoughts on it then tomorrow afternoon at 3pm I’m going to hold a party outside of the FTX arena. We’ll be grilling STRONKUMMS, and I will be addressing the entire situation that way it doesn’t get aired out on Chaos. They’ve gotten enough shine thanks to me and HOW. Once the cameras go live on Chaos it’ll be all business and no more Fisher Price talk.” I didn’t like that I was being forced to go that route, but I was going to make the most of it.
“Speaking of STRONKUMMS, you are friends and partners with the man himself STRONK Godson and it seemed like you both had a bit of a falling out on the last HOW PPV over a young woman by the name of Bobbinette Carey. Is there tension in the ranks? What is the status of your partnership with the man that they call STRONK Daddy?” Hochman leaned closer to his microphone like it added more intrigue to the questions.
“Sometimes in the heat of battle tempers flare. We’re both grown men and we had a disagreement. But I’m not worried about how it might split us apart. We’ll talk tomorrow night and handle it like men. Bobbinette Carey is a loudmouth that has turned on every single person she’s been with inside or outside of the ring. She wants to cry foul and point the finger at me because I call a spade a spade. Even to this day her thirsty ass has been tweeting to STRONK and trying to get him alone. Woman is in her 40’s with children and she’s not married. She’s not as talented as she claims to be. So, when she says she wants to talk to STRONK. She really means she’s going to try and muster what little sex appeal she has left to try and leech off of STRONK. Unfortunately for her, just because they call him STRONK Daddy doesn’t mean he’s going to become her Sugar Daddy.” A little harsh? Sure, but when it comes to Carey it just comes naturally.
“What sports do you follow outside of professional wrestling? I know you must be excited about football season being right around the corner. What do you think the Dolphins are going to do this year?” Crowder asked excitedly, seeing as the Dolphins are his former team.
“I’m a huge NFL fan, I also enjoy the NBA, and I will catch the occasional baseball game. I’m curious about the Dolphins this year. I think Tyreek Hill is a great addition to go beside Jaylen Waddle. Tua seems like a damn fine Quarterback but if they could go back and do that draft again it’s a no-brainer that you take Herbert before Tua. Dude is a stud, and the Chargers got the steal of that draft. Tua is one of those guys who fooled people with hype over talent. I won’t lie, I was one of those people but that doesn’t mean he still can’t have a good career. However, I have to admit my heart lies in Denver. I’m a huge fan of the Denver Broncos. I am over the moon about the fact that they not only landed Russell Wilson but signed him to a five-year extension.” For that fleeting moment I was able to relax.
“What about the Miami Heat?” Crowder inquired.
“Not a fan, sorry.” I said solemnly.
“Well, that just got you from being cheered to being booed tomorrow night at Chaos.” Hochman chimed in.
“Probably but at heart I’m a San Antonio Spurs fan. I loved the Tony Parker, Manu Ginobili, and Tim Duncan era. They are going through a massive rebuild but I’m not going to jump off of the bandwagon because of that. As far as baseball goes. I enjoyed Camden Yards in Baltimore the one time I got to visit. But overall, I don’t have a particular team. I watch for the simple love of the game.” I said hoping to move on to important questions.
“You’ve made the comment that you want to die inside of a wrestling ring. Was that just wrestling talk or something serious?” Hochman tried to take a serious tone.
“To clarify here… I am not looking to die anytime soon. I don’t need wellness checks or the number to the suicide hotline. But the point of my statement was that given the choice of having my career snatched away from me again like it was for five years or dying in the middle of the ring? I choose dying in the middle of the ring 10 times out of 10. I am a professional wrestler. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be and I suffered greatly having that taken away from me for so long. I don’t want to deal with that again. I want to do this for as long as I possibly can at the highest level my body will allow me to do so. Tyler said that I choose violence. He’s damn right I choose violence. I chose violence before I was even of legal age to get my Learners Permit. I have never shied away from violence or getting my ass kicked. I’m risking my well-being every single time I step into the ring, wrestling with the condition my neck is in but I’d rather die than to live the rest of my life wondering what if.” There was conviction in my voice.
“Tyler mentioned that you have a therapist and took a shot at the fact that you seek help for all the issues going on in your life.” Crowder decided to dig deep.
“Yeah, I’ve been going to therapy for years now. I’m human regardless of my physical abilities. Tyler talks about being a GOD and yeah that’s all fine and good but at the end of the day he’s flesh and blood just like the rest of us. I’m not perfect, I’m very far from it and I’ve struggled with commitment and depression since 2016. I’m not ashamed of the fact that I have regular therapy sessions. Tyler stood outside of the airport and nearly had a mental meltdown in less time than it takes to properly cook a STRONKUMM. Maybe he would benefit from seeing a therapist too but he’s 18 years old and still in that I’m invincible stage of his life.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“He’s someone you helped train and a member of The Board in HOW. More importantly he’s your opponent tomorrow night. Why did you give him a ride from the airport?” Hochman tried to find flaws in my logic.
“Simple, he was in need, and I don’t hate Tyler Adrian Best. Letting Tyler get stranded at an airport on live on the street until Sunday does nothing to elevate my career. It would have been a hollow victory that had no substance behind it. If or when I walk out still the HOW LSD Champion, then I want it because tomorrow night I was better than Tyler Adrian Best. Not because the man can’t navigate a city he’s never been in before and didn’t know how taxi cabs work.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I spoke.
“What do you honestly think your chances of victory are tomorrow night?” Crowder tried to be insightful.
“I’m not going to give you a number because that would be extremely cocky of me considering I’ve lost my last two HOW matches. Thankfully I know what my issues are. I’ve made mistakes out there and I’m doing everything in my power to fix them.” I was barely able to say before being interrupted.
“Care to elaborate?” Hochman asked.
“Plain and simply it’s like Tyler said. I’ve lacked focus. I’ve been successful being in both HOW and OCW at the same time but not as successful as I could be. Quite honestly, I’ve been working harder than anyone else in the business but that doesn’t mean anything when you’re just pumping out effort without clear focus on what you want to accomplish. This entire week has been laser focused on this match and this match alone. I’ve tuned out the outside noise. I patched things up temporarily with Madison. And I’ve taken a mini break from Samantha Tolson. If you’re listening, Tyler, she’s a wrestler that is also a stripper. She is definitely not some fat guy on the internet, and she likes to touch my penis. Everything else is backburner material because all that matters this week is this match where it’s Tyler Adrian Best vs. Jace Parker Davidson. If I lose this match? It will be solely on the fact that Tyler is a better man tomorrow night but not because I’ve been trying to do too many things at once.”
“One more question before we have to end this. What is it like to be Tyler Adrian Best’s hero?” Crowder had a grin on his face.
“I love the fact that Tyler respects me and sees me as his hero. He’s not exactly the easiest person to impress. With that being said none of it means a damn thing. I’m not going to melt because he’s trying to whisper sweet nothings into my ears. I like Tyler and I respect him. He’s not just some punk kid to me. However, when the bell rings and the match officially started tomorrow night. I’m going to beat him like he stole from me. I’m going to go at him like he took a shit on my finest rug and killed my dog. Oh fuck… I can’t say shit on the radio, can I?” I held my hand over my mouth.
“Alex Solana will have his work cut out of him hitting that censor button on this interview.” Hochman laughs as Solana waves from his position in the studio.
“Tyler will have to tap into something deep inside of himself that will scare even him. It’s one thing to bully a bunch of veterans and talk about being a killer. It’s a totally different thing to actually turn those words into actions. Tyler’s grandfather did it and it changed him. His father did it and he still hasn’t recovered from killing his own brother to this day. Tyler is going to have to grow some hair on his chest if he expects to take the HOW LSD Championship belt and my life tomorrow night. I’m not going to be a statistic. I’m not going to be another accomplishment. I refuse to be just another trophy tattoo that is inked onto his body. I’m not an achievement you unlock while playing Xbox and scratching your balls. I am Jace Parker Davidson. I am the LSD Champion. And I am THE undeniable conqueror of HOW. I will make you Bend the Knee here in Miami, Tyler. And it will be a pleasure to have you hand me that ICON Championship belt. To look me in the eyes. And watch your family’s legacy take its spot on my empty shoulder because I am one of the few things in life that are inevitable.” I said with a fair amount of passion and intensity in my voice.
“Thank you, Jace and good luck tomorrow night in the main event of Chaos. We’ll be right back folks, stay tuned.” Hochman leaned back as the show went to another commercial break.
I took off my headset and shook hands with both hosts before making my way out of the studio. The time for talk was over. Tomorrow night I leave with two Championship belts and Tyler Adrian Best’s blood on my hands.
7am on Lummus Park Beach here in Miami.