BEYOND

“The greatest wrestler in the world is not Conor Fuse, it’s John Sektor.” – Conor Fuse

— — — — —

John,

Walking into War Games last year, Dan Ryan and I were committed to taking down you and Jatt Starr, the Tag Team Champions. While my main focus was on The Jattvian Prince, I got a little bent outta shape when you never seemed to notice my existence. I called you out, yet John Sektor couldn’t be bothered. We met again a few months later, I believe the match was Teddy Palmer and I vs. you and SRK. “What do I have to lose?” I thought. I’ll jump in front of the camera and cosplay Sutler Reynolds-Kael, ask you to join the Elder Scrolls, say you have 24 hours to decide and then immediately rescind my offer like your annoying prepubescent teammate would do to everyone else.

Listen, the reality is I took it personally. You ignored me beforehand and I wanted to let you know it wasn’t gonna fly.

Enough of the history lesson. Your reply is what stuck with me the most.

Because I get it. I didn’t warrant your attention. Until I did something major with my career, why would a surefire legend like you acknowledge a hit-and-miss dumbass like me? Until anyone can show they have legitimate ability to hang with the big boys and not bow the fuck out when the going gets tough, why would you engage? It’s nothing personal. You’re a vet. A pro. A wrestler’s wrestler. I can only imagine how many people have entered whatever company you’ve worked for, screaming nothing but bullshit, thinking they’re the next big thing… only to fizzle out and RAGEQUIT soon after they realize this shit ain’t easy. The streets are lined outside the Best Arena with failed talent, no work ethic and ignorant dreams.

Since our last encounter, I’ve added a couple achievements to my name.

So maybe you’ll pay attention to me now.

I don’t mean this rudely. I’m not here to berate you, act obnoxious or eat sour grapes. I’m more of a Cheetos guy anyway. You are the gold standard. It’s not a nickname. I don’t need to capitalize the alias, it’s what you are. Before Conor Fuse, John Sektor was The Man. Let’s be real here, John Sektor is still The Man.

For now.

It’s not my fault I’m on the outside looking in. You’re older than me, started your career years before I could hold a controller. You had a biological head start. This isn’t to undermine your skills or make fun of your age. Far from it. You’ve accomplished more than the careers of an entire promotional roster put together. The fact you’re at the top of your game, relevant in today’s World like you were relevant in High Flyer’s, out lasting every person at the time you were the rookie… it’s inspiring.

You’ve thrown your body through countless wrestling leagues and pinned the best. And you have your demons. Nobody’s perfect. To fight through them, manage what’s in front of you. Persevere. Find a way.

Of course, I don’t have to tell you this.

Beyond video games… what lies past the blue coloured mat and three ring ropes… is a dream I subscribe to.

To have the career of John Sektor and be held in the same sentence.

Being a champion is hard work. Look who I’m talking to. I find myself exhausted after Scott Stevens. I dunno what this has to say about me but maybe there’s more to this story than I am willing to admit.

My partner, David Noble, also a professional like yourself inside this ring. Knocked off the ring rust to make a comeback, signed to a short-term deal and was left without a teammate, swimming in quicksand. I have learned true help inside the squared circle is hard to find. Friends come and go. You and your former tag team partner, who now resides with me, is a perfect example. I don’t know how long David and I have to learn from each other, so I live in the moment. Resembling a true gamer, the platform I’m playing on is the only thing that matters. A World Title match equals the curtain jerker. The Tag Team Championships are on par with #97 in my gaming manual.

It’s tiring to go this hard. And yet David and I’s efforts have scored us not only a chance at the highest achievement in co-operative wrestling…

But a shot at the greatest mat technician.

I plan to handle you differently than I do everyone else. I will not obsess over John Sektor. I will not mock, belittle or Weapon Get. No talk of a Rogues’ Gallery here. While I can throw a suplex inside the ring, I will not do so with the idea I’m stealing something of yours.

I just want to share the ring with excellence.

This is why I stay motivated… why I didn’t quit when Jatt Starr beat me in my first HOW pay-per-view match… when Hughie Freeman slugged me in the face, pinning me clean on a random episode… or when Mike ripped my heart out, ruining everything I worked for.

Yes John, I have lost since last year’s War Games.

Yes John, I am aware you have not.

Simple losses are not proper context. You should know as well as anybody it is what we do with those losses. It’s how we handle adversity. It’s what makes me different from the rest of the wannabe high flyers and fucking loud mouths who shuffle in and out, unable to get it done.

You could be 20-0. I could be 10-10. What sets The Vintage apart from someone of the same record is I refuse to quit and always come back having learned from mistakes.

It’s why Noble Gaming is in the finals and didn’t cower to their -1 score.

There are times where I HAVEN’T gotten it done. Oh, there will be times where I don’t get it done again. I am a flawed combatant, a kid playing a Level other gamers could only dream of… wrestling giants with so much on the line. My teammate’s goals, his revival to the sport. You and your protégé, attempting to prove once again you are the ultimate pinnacle. Winning a singles competition is one thing. To be good enough to sync your skills with another and claim the top spot collectively? All while holding a singles championship in your hand? Oh, that’s elite alright.

As I walked away from War Games, rattled you didn’t even throw a punch in my direction, I said to myself “make it impossible for him to ignore you again.”

I’d say mission accomplished but let’s be real, this would be an extremely weak goal.

No. Noticing me means shit. I don’t do well with half-assed accomplishments. No participation medallion for Conor Fuse. If I wanna make it impossible for John Sektor to ignore this gamer… if I wanna prove to David Noble he did the right thing by dusting off those boots, stepping back into the ring and agreeing to team with me…

If I plan to REVIVE tag team wrestling at its core, on the main event of a pay-per-view…

If I have this sudden death attitude… where Noble Gaming fights and fucking claws for every point they can manage, insurmountable odds in front of them…

Then we do what no one has done in almost a year.

We defeat the legendary, suplex submission machine, John Sektor.

And we beat him clean.

I roll through adversity. Found my way back to #97 while everyone else thought my successor would go on another vigilant reign. David rolls through adversity, too. He’ll tell you. He struggles with confidence and inner demons. While you may relate to a devil on your shoulder, John Sektor still ravages the High Octane roster, shaking its depth to the core, regardless of what drug is or isn’t in his system. The LSD Champion achieves the longest run in history. Beyond World Championship caliber. The most accomplished man I will ever step into the ring with. Period.

And yet I am here to tell you, by hell or high water, last life or last breath…

I am your adversity, John.

Alongside my teammate, we are going to end our miracle run on top of the division, as the antithesis of what apex tag teams should be. Thrown together at random, excelling because of our refusal to stay down, step back and tap out.

David and I will go through wrestling personified and his upcoming protégé. We will defeat the game at its core. Finish our campaign when we barely had one to begin with. Because it’s what winners do. It’s what champions are hardwired for. Stare in the face of unrealistic odds.

And keep playing regardless.

To beat The Man, in his ring, with his hand picked talent. To pin the wrestling paramount, the definition of this sport, in co-op or singles competition. To be the one who takes his victory away.

Well, that’s glory.

So let’s fucking march forward.

… … … … …

Local Park
Chicago, IL
March 20, 2022 – 11:00

Beneath the melting snow, I see brown blades of grass trying to resurface. A few children run around on the playground adjacent to yours truly. To be a kid again, so ignorant and carefree. Granted, I have life pretty good. World Champion. Tournament finals. Opponent I’ve strived for since the moment I saw him take on High Flyer as I walked into the Lee Best doors. My childhood hero, Jack Harmen. I used to climb the monkey bars on playgrounds such as this one, pretending to be him. Jumping off, hitting my ghost opponent with the most devastating elbow to the side of the head. Hooking the leg.

ONE.

TWO.

KICKOUT!

Oh, there’s more work to be done. I’d climb the jungle gym… perform a leg drop. If I was feeling really brave, I’d reach the slide, run full steam and shoot down with a lariat.

I was a kid, give me a break.

Seeing my hero vs. John Sektor was the first battle I laid witness to in HOW. Watching Sektor throw my idol around easily, the man I patterned myself after. I won’t lie, it was hard to watch. I hated The Gold Standard back then. How dare he equate himself to the prestige of The Lunatic. Then again, with seemingly unlimited territories abound, if I had watched the promotion John was a part of instead of High Flyer’s IWO…

Would I be performing suplexes and submission holds on the playground instead?

I sit across the park on a wooden bench, off to the side, near a small creek. I expect him to be here in one minute and he is never late.

My eyes fall on the children at play. Blissful. Full of hope. Who are their heroes? What will they strive to be when it’s their turn?

I am lucky. I found a dream, went for it and had the talent needed to make it this far. Many dream, although few have the real ability to accomplish.

I now feel his presence standing behind me.

“I’m not creeping on the kids, okay? Give me a break,” I’m dismissive. “This is the park beside my condo. Easiest place to go.”

I hear the snow crackle underneath his boots as he shifts from behind me and takes a seat to my right. The wooden pillars rumble upon his large frame placing all its weight down. I’m surprised the bench hasn’t split in half.

“You didn’t have to wear the mask…” I said. Without bothering to look over, I know it’s on his face. We are telepathically linked. Before Ray McAvay, Zeb Martin or any other tag team partner I’ve had in HOW, perhaps this was the guy I should’ve teamed with first.

I don’t have to look over and see The Game Boy, my former hulking henchman, is there. 6’6”, 350+ pounds of pure muscle. Luchador mask, Nintendo-styled. Of course, I made it for him. The Game Boy was by my side when I entered High Octane. Joining HOW brother-less, I needed social support. And a bad ass, take-no-shit IRL version of Bane couldn’t hurt.

Now we have gone our separate ways. Me, realizing I don’t need a bodyguard and him, wanting to gain more experience on the independent circuit. He was green inside the ring but he’s working hard on leveling up.

“I know you’re wondering why I asked you here,” I begin. The ‘mini boss’ never has to speak to be heard, not that he would. He was born mute. “I’ve been struggling. Stuff hasn’t been fun. I figured it had to do with Scott Stevens.”

My fists are clenched at the thought of the Texan.

“So I made the nimrod tap to his own submission hold,” I chuckle, albeit half-heartedly. “I Weapon Getted his ass. Made sure he ‘got the memo’ this time. Fuck with me, I embarrass you.”

Game Boy stares directly ahead. I, too, haven’t looked in his direction and yet I know he can grasp the intensity written all over my face.

“It didn’t do much, Boy.” And it didn’t. I feel no more alive than I did before I faced Stevens. If I had the answers on what’s lacking in the fun department, then I obviously would’ve addressed it.

I fold over and place my chin on the top of my knuckles.

“I should be so hyped for March to Glory right now,” My Game Boy knows. He saw first hand what the destruction of High Flyer did to my morale. It’s a non-issue now, though. Jack Harmen is deader to me than the Metal Gear Survive series. The mere idea of seeing John Sektor in the finals… to walk in as World Champion and have a chance to be the face behind tag team wrestling. “What an opportunity.”

Make no mistake, I am ready to go. Every word I said about John Sektor… my motivation levels… will be at a high when the bell rings.

It’s the in-between time I’m struggling with.

My feet dangle back and forth as I continue to ramble. I know Game Boy likes hearing my stories. He wouldn’t show up otherwise.

“David’s a good guy too, man. We’re all in on One Life. He doesn’t have a contract, you see. Sure, M.O.B. would be insane not to offer him a full time deal win or lose but we’ll cross this bridge later. Noble has other commitments. Plus his motivation and confidence levels. Gotta be a struggle going through the wear and tear on your body again. It’s a two-way street. It’s more complicated than simply signing long-term. So we’re just living in the moment. Guess it’s why I am so hyped bell-to-bell. Ready to go an hour beforehand and an hour after. Then…” I pause to survey my surroundings. “I feel dead inside.”

My eyes wander again. Why can’t I be more like the kids in the park? They can pass time so easily. It doesn’t matter what they’re doing.

“I started working on adding different aspects to my wrestling approach,” I announce, although I’m sure he’s been watching me on television. “Gonna work on my submission game. Stay grounded a little more often. You know, there’s only a finite amount of splashes left in me. David said he used to do all the same shit. Then his body broke down, he had to stay on the mat more. I figure let’s get a good head start on the future Conor Fuse, ya know? Imma still jump off the top rope, stick a fucker with a Super Splash or moonsault. I haven’t cracked out the Phoenix Splash in a while. Maybe John Sektor deserves it. Anyway, I have to add layers to my game because I’m in the castle. I’m the Last Level Legend and everyone is watching me with a close eye. Sektor studies film. He’s a guy who takes it seriously. He will be ready. He’ll know me inside and out.”

I feel a smile creep over the side of my face.

“Gotta throw surprises in there. Keep ‘em honest.”

Lifting my head, I pull my arms in front and start acting out the submission moves I’ve been working on.

“Really think I could apply a decent scissored armbar. I’ve got great lower body strength to make sure I stay grounded. That’s the thing, you know. A lot of these submission moves, guys think you gotta have a great upper body. Goes without saying. But you need a solid base, too. I’m not getting dragged into the ropes. Plant my legs down. They are anchors.”

I find Game Boy’s back with my peripherals and pat it.

“Thanks for visiting. I hope things are going well with you these days.”

They are. We’re mentally connected.

“Listen, buddy, I may need you again. I’ll know when the moment is right,” I add. “I’m working on a few things. It’s gonna be a much different deal than before. I won’t need an extra hand inside the ring.”

No, I’ve proven I can do this myself.

David and I are proving we are the perfect teammates, too.

“But I’m gonna require your presence soon, Boy.”

I feel the bench shake. Game Boy is nodding.

“It was good to see you again, bro,” The pressure on the bench releases as TGB stands up. His presence reminds me of how far I’ve come. Never thought any of this would be possible. While I’m struggling in my personal life, my professional life is terrific. Tiring? Yes. Challenging? Of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.

I hear the small packs of snow at the mercy of Game Boy’s mammoth feet as he robotically walks away. I say my goodbye.

“Always nice to reconnect.”

… … … … …

Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse
Refueled XC – In Gorilla, Pre-Match, Noble Gaming vs. Bobbinette Carey & Darkwing
Cleveland, OH
March 6, 2022 – 22:37

David and I stand in gorilla, waiting for our cue. Apparently they’re running an ad for next week’s show, Mike Best & Jatt Starr vs. Chris Kostoff & Darkwing. The fans are going batshit crazy inside the arena.

Nostalgia galore.

“One day, that’s gonna be me…” I say, slapping David on the arm. My mind wanders. My intention to never quit and become not only the Last Level Legend but a Hall of Famer, will drive my name to invoke the same response as this one. Conor Fuse becomes a true vintage experience. I live up to the moniker.

…Then I realize who’s standing beside me. We’ve been dragged through hell and back. “One day, that’s gonna be us.”

Years from now, maybe M.O.B. will book Conor Fuse and David Noble in a tag team match and it will receive all of the hype, too.

“We could fight John Sektor and Adam Ellis forever,” I say, carefully walking my comments back with body language. They’ve moved onto the finals. We have yet to face our semi final team. Additionally, one of our opponents I’d like to think of as a friend. The other is a man who’s part of the nostalgic pop.

Nothing will come easy tonight.

“One step at a time,” David offers. “That’s all we can do at this point. Take who is in front of us and do our best. Tonight, it’s Darkwing and Carey. If we’re successful, then we look towards Sektor and Ellis. I promise you that those four men, Best and Kostoff and so on, they didn’t set out thinking one day they would have a massive main event that would invoke nostalgia and fans roaring to life. Because if that’s your goal, you will forever be disappointed. Tonight is about tonight. Tomorrow is about tomorrow. One day, one step at a time.”

Look at this MF with all the answers lol. Eh, makes sense. It’s kinda the motto for our team. One day at a time. Live in the present. I appreciate David. Our relationship isn’t based on competing against one another. He’s not sour I’m World Champion. He doesn’t have an ulterior motive. He joined HOW, got shafted and thought this comeback tour was ruined. In return, I don’t shy away from seeking his input, either. I need it. He’s been around longer than The Power-Up King. He has to be real with me. And he has. He said I shouldn’t trust Bobbinette. Honestly, it’s not what I wanna hear although I’m willing to listen. I told him I’ll be on guard tonight. For him.

The commercial is over. Our cue is almost there.

Sometimes I see doubt in Noble’s eyes. It’s actually reassuring because for as confident as I want to be, I’m still growing. Becoming poised is a process and I’ll always have doubts. It’s what makes me who I am. It’s how I got here to begin with.

Perhaps that’s how we got here.

“Buddy, I want you to know, win or lose, I really appreciate teaming with you,” I pat Noble on the back. “You leave HOW tomorrow, you come back three years from now… whatever the case… I got you.”

It’s hard to find real teammates. Only once I’ve had a connection like this and he was my blood relative.

David looks at me and nods his head.

“One hell of an origin story, right? Ride or die, brother. Ride or die.”

He sticks out his fist. I grin and smack mine against it.

“You’re up,” the production guy says from behind the soundboard. I hear our theme music and the crowd comes alive.

It’s not a nostalgia pop.

But it’s damn sure within the vicinity.

Stay in the present. Bell-to-bell. It’s what this gamer lives for. These are the moments which can define a legacy.

Start: -1.

End: World Tag Team Champions.

“It’s been real,” I say.

“We’re not done yet. One more night, let’s do everything we can to make it to the next one.”

I pull the curtain back. Cinderella has arrived. That blonde haired bimbo ain’t forgetting her shoe tonight. I may not be the greatest wrestler in the world. I may be flawed, have my setbacks…

I’m also #97.

And I command attention.

Tonight, I will give David every last ounce of sweat. He deserves the same spotlight I find myself in.

Noble Gaming gets to the end of this campaign.

We command attention.

Because we have a date with the best wrestler in the world.

And it can’t wait any longer.