Fuck, Fuck, The Words Are Gaining Sentience And Planning The Apocalypse

Do you ever get ready to write?

I do.

I get the music right, I roll the spliff, I sort out the laptop, get a nice little comfortable space, and I stop, I think, I compose myself and I write. That’s how these missives come. There’s never any real planning with what I do, no multiple read throughs, no rewriting…just one and done.

But do you know what the problem is?

I just got everything sorted. Real sorted. Sorted to the point where it’s like, let’s take a shit, go over everything one more time, make sure I got everything straight in my head that I wanna say…and I lost my fucking joint.

I mean, I understand that this is of zero relevance to you, and you want me to get on with talking about, I assume, how I feel about the state of High Octane Wrestling, how I feel about facing Jatt Starr, am I mad about this shit that’s going down with the tag team, or I don’t fucking know…the shininess of Lee Best’s bald fucking head this week. Or maybe I should ramble about the sorta kinda but not actually Ground Zero reunion that’s been happening.

I don’t know. They’re all relevant things, aren’t they? All things I should be taking time out of my busy schedule to form some words about. Stop, think, form thoughts, vomit them out and we all get hyped for my next appearance on Chaos, everyone’s fucking delighted and we all get paid.

The usual shit.

Same shit we do every week.

The problem is, when it comes to my opponent this week (And let’s face it, that feels like the most relevant, most immediate thing that should be addressed), I’m not exactly sure what to say.

Am I gonna get a Jatt Starr who is aware of me and actually…I dunno, does something tangentially related to facing me in a singles match this week? I mean, undoubtedly it’ll be wrapped up in a parody of a parody of a parody, but perhaps we’ll see something. Or maybe it’ll be the Jatt Starr who’s off in a complete world of his own and it’s a miracle that he actually remembers that he’s gotta go to a wrestling arena on the weekend and have a match.

Yes, Jatt, I’ve no doubt someone else has said similar before. They probably regularly do. But bear with me.

Either way, the dude is a Hall of Famer, right? A true legend of our federation. Someone who’s been around long enough to occasionally need the help of a blue pill or two.

But, see, I remember walking into this place at eighteen and wanting to be that level of legend. Wanting people to look forward to me being around, to my returns. To have that level of default respect, you know? I mean, I honestly don’t recall if he was around the place then, or if I maybe had a throwaway match with him at some point, but I recall the…if not reverence, but respect that came with his name being spoken. Hall of Famer. Main Eventer. Champion. You know? Throw in the fact that my trainer wrestled in Shockwave Sports Entertainment, so a healthy dose of stories about how great he was there, too.

You gotta remember, this was before Mike Best.

Back when Aceldama’s reign was considered THE reign.

…did I say dirty things? I’m sorry if I said dirty things. It was just…how I remember things, y’know?

But Jatt was, to my eyes, THAT guy back then.

I mean, now is a lot different from then, and in terms of World Championships, it’s not like the dude is on my level. Or singles wins this year. Lifetime winning percentage. Take your pick of the statistics we love to look at to determine what a successful wrestler is, and I’m pretty sure mine are better than Jatt’s.

But still.

Maybe it’s just because of when I entered this business, when I entered High Octane Wrestling, but, confession time.

I’ve always wanted a one on one with Jatt Starr at a High Octane pay per view.

I get that it’s probably not a big enough match, or a big enough feud to get that sort of spot. I get that, I honestly do. But to re-emphasise, just in case you missed it the first time – when I joined High Octane Wrestling, in my eyes, he was THE legend. Didn’t matter what match he was in, where he was on the card, who he was facing – it was like a little main event. The chaos of his segments…yeah. I watched the tapes. I enjoyed the study, you know? That recognition? That respect?

Something to aim for when you’re a hungry eighteen year old.

But that match that I’d love to have on a pay per view, the match I figured would once be something that could happen at ICONIC, or War Games or whatever…

It’s a throwaway match on a random Chaos in the middle of a pay per view run. Because his tag partner has issue with me, and mine has with him. It’s just something to build hype, nothing beyond that and just a regular singles match. Not even in the main event…just slotted right into the middle of the card.

I mean…

I’m not entirely sure how to feel about it. Maybe it’ll be the full on Jatt Starr experience, or maybe he’ll just hang around with some, let’s face it – hookers – whilst generally acting like the stereotypical seedy character from one of the less politically correct late night, eighties or nineties comedy show. Maybe there’ll be good poetry, or maybe it’ll be fucking horrific. There will, for sure, be the usual list of nicknames that literally nobody but him and the four marks scattered around the globe who own the complete collection of Jatt Starr nickname teeshirts and proudly boast about it on Reddit or TikTok or whatever.

Found it!

The spliff, that is. However you take your weed…smoke it, vape it, eat it – whatever – you gotta admit that the moment when it hits after you’ve had a period of thinking about how you’re gonna hit the spliff and get the thing done is unsurpassed, no?

Anyway…my point is, once this match should have almost automatically been something. But now? Just a nothing match. And I bet Jatt will treat it as that too. Just another match. He doesn’t give a single fuck if he wins or loses, he’ll just spout out some predictable, boring, tired Best Alliance bullshit, the same way he’s been touting it for the last fucking decade, and he’ll go back to smoking cigarettes and attempting to live his life like he’s some 1940’s noir debonair type.

Rather than…y’know. What he is now.

The tired, unfunny old man. The guy who’s past it. Who is literally being propped up in a tag team by one of this year’s most dominant singles wrestlers.

Because when was the last time you genuinely showed a fuck, Jatt?

When was the last time you actually had a goal beyond “Ensure Lee Best’s knob is as shiny as he likes it”?

The last time you were motivated?

The last time you wanted to do something more than spew out Dad jokes that are fucking terrible even by the Dad joke standard?

Sure, you’ve already done it before…but so have a whole bunch of other people. We don’t go and lurk around in the midcard, directionless…I mean, shit dude, a couple weeks back you had the whole federation giving a fuck about that whole segment with Lee Best. What did you do with that momentum, that interest?

To say fuck all would be an insult to fuck all, let’s be honest.

You got that attention, and then…what? Absolutely nothing. Back to being the B guy in the tag team you’re in. Just another generic shitbag heel in the Best Alliance. What happened to the creativity you were once renowned for? The competitiveness? The…fuck man, anything, y’know? Literally anything that shows you’re more than just a shell who touts the old catchphrases and nicknames would be good, at this point.

But I know I won’t get it. I know I’m not getting the man who could have given me my dream match, because the reality of that smacks me in the face every time I think about this match. Every time I research this match.

In theory, I should win. The singles records this year suggest that. The World Championship count suggests that.

But I know if I show up giving as many fucks as Jatt does, I’d lose.

Firstly, because that’s not me. I really am that guy who gets up in the morning and immediately watches the American wrestling news. And then reads the translations of the Japanese and Mexican wrestling news. Who then watches some wrestling that happened last night. When I talk about loving professional wrestling, it’s not a joke. Not a gimmick. The same way Conor Fuse can undoubtedly tell you about some pixelated nonsense from 1994 that only released in Japan, I can talk your ear off about 1990’s Japanese wrestling.

Maybe I’m not waking up, eating, breathing and shitting High Octane Wrestling right now. Maybe it’s not the all consuming thing it once was, but…I’m here because I want to compete. I’m here because turning up every chance I get helps me get the fuck out of bed. I’m here because this is my true love.

I do not shut the laptop down and go to bed with the woman. I shut the laptop down, smoke another joint, watch some more wrestling and go to bed on my own. I wake up, I train, I study, I sleep.

This, Jatt Starr, is my entire life. This is literally everything that matters to me. I do not want to be anything other than a professional wrestler. I don’t have big dreams of having a fancy personal life. I don’t want a happy wife, two dogs, four children, sixteen cats, an oversized mortgage and a car I hate.

Unlike you.

And also unlike you, I’m not okay with just being a Hall of Famer. I’m not okay with being second on the list of World Champions. I’m not okay with never having won the LSD Championship or the HOTv Championship. I’m not okay with the fact that I’ve lost a singles match, not okay with the fact that I’ve lost tag team matches.

Because to me, you’re complacent. You’re happy with what you’ve done. You’re someone who just turns up because of the love of the thing, right? Titles don’t matter anymore. You’ve won a bunch. Hall of Fame doesn’t matter. You’re already in it. Really, what more would be achieved by making some real effort other than some heartache?

Again, complacent. Lazy.

Unless your goal is to be the tag team with the largest amount of ridiculous names that were discarded after a week. You’re absolutely smashing that one. Can’t fault you there.

But to reach the top again? You don’t even try. Maybe you’re afraid of the failure, or maybe this IS you trying? I don’t know.

I know I try, and I think that’s the major difference between us. Maybe you’re one of the people who get upset when I talk about my desire for that sixth World Championship – but things like that are what differentiate us. Six won’t be enough for me. I’ll want seven. And then eight. And so on. Maybe you’re gonna sit there and get mad that I am a guy who comes every single week to compete..I don’t know. Perhaps you think I’m a disease, the type of guy who should be eliminated from High Octane Wrestling.

Better people have tried, Jatt.

I have no idea. I really don’t. I can’t control anything about how you decide to approach the match, or how you think of me.

At this point though, I’d hope it’s becoming obvious how I feel about you, no? That you are the very definition of never meet your heroes, they’ll never be anything other than a disappointment.

Which makes me feel bad for an ordinary person when they meet their hero. All they can do is sit at home and tell their mates about how shit they are. Just the bitch and moan at the weekly social smoke. Maybe they can go make an angry tweet…or an angry X? I have no idea anymore – but they can also go bitch on social media. There’s no opportunity for them to do a single fucking thing about it. They just have to endure the shit and move along.

Me?

I get to step in the ring with him this week. I get to show him how little I think of 2023 Jatt Starr…how instead of being disappointed that I’m not finally getting to face him at a pay per view, I’m fucking relieved.

Because yeah, maybe I should want it. Again, all things being what they are, I’m probably the favourite for this match. So maybe I should want the match I’m expected to win. I feel pretty sure that’s what you’d want, Jatt.

But to me? It would be a fucking waste. I would rather lose every single pay per view match I have from now until the end of my career if that means I’m competing at the top of the card against the best wrestlers that are around. I would rather wake up in the hospital after every single match than just…exist. I’d rather deal with knee issues, or back issues or neck, or whatever into my old age rather than just contentedly coast along as the clear B-side of a tag team. I’d much rather make the effort to be more than I am than just exist.

So facing you now, rather than at a pay per view? This being a throwaway?

Good.

Because instead of being that dream match, Jatt, do you know what you have become?

Just a way for me to send a message to your tag team partner.

Think about that for a second. You have, as far as I’m aware…two World Championships to go with that Hall of Fame ring. And what are you in 2023? A way for someone to send a message to your partner. A partner without a Hall of Fame ring and zero World Championships…that’s probably something we should be noting, since I’m throwing around the achievements.

And like…I feel like I should be sad about this.

One of the matches I dreamed about when I first stepped foot through the doors of this place has become meaningless to me. Nothing more than another statistic. Something I’ll hopefully put in the win column and largely forget about. Maybe I’ll make a point, like how Ward did last week, that they may have won the tag team match, but in singles? We’re better. Maybe I’ll make a point out of people coasting on their past achievements, or about people not pushing themselves to do something better, something more. Or maybe I’ll make a point to Dan Ryan about how I’ll beat him if he really is genuinely stupid enough to want to have a match with me. You know?

But the fact that one of those dream matches is gone and I’m not sad?

I mean, I’d say it’s a bit odd, but, y’know, if I’m honest? I’m kinda pissed off about it.

Pissed off to see a Hall of Famer let his standards drop so much. Pissed off that this match has become worth nothing more than the win. Pissed off that I’m yet again wrestling a singles match with no belt, no championship on the line. Pissed off that I feel like I am having to prove myself like I am a rookie, all over again to get a shot that pretty much anyone else around here seems to get just for taking a breath. Pissed off that I let my standards slip at the last pay per view. Pissed off that I’m not the World Champion already. Angry that people think I’m nothing more than the jovial, chill taco man.

Because I am not just laughs and taco gimmicks.

I am one of the most dominant singles competitors that this federation has ever seen. I live for this shit. To show up to Chaos, and to compete. To give myself an opportunity to be better than I was last week. To keep it simple. And to get another opportunity to show the world exactly how fucking great professional wrestling is…again. I live for this shit.

And getting to wrestle? A chance to compete? An opportunity to get another win?

That’s the shit that motivates me. That drives me.

So you know that I will bring everything I have this week. No gimmicks. No tacos. Just professional wrestling. Just the things that matter. Just the things I care about.

Can you say the same, Jatt?