Post by Buckson Gooch on Mar 23, 2013 19:51:11 GMT -4
I have to admit I feel very good about myself after my outing in the Meltdown Rumble. I’m starting to be seen as a force of nature here in APW. It felt good to let out my aggression on some new faces, as well as some old ones, and show people my mettle.
I can make no excuses for my loss. Delikado is smart wrestler. Crafty. Brilliant. He deserved to win and even though he was the straw that broke the camel’s back and tossed me over, I have to give him his due. Delikado did a masterful job, and as a fan of the APW wrestling product, I’m excited to see his title match.
Now onto the matters at hand. Last week was fun, but it will have no bearing upon the triangle match that I have with Michael Lively and A.C. Smith. When it comes to pedigree, I’m the least. When it comes to heart, I’m at the top of the list...but where the match will get interesting is weapons.
The fans bring the weapons.
The variable has changed.
The interesting thing about Michael Lively, A.C. Smith, and me is that we all have wins over each other and losses to each other. Our slates are even. The variable has changed.
Fans will be the difference.
What they bring could very well mean the difference in this match. The difference in approach by all of us.
Large equipment will be my forte. If it’s heavy. I can swing it. I can do a lot of damage.
If it’s something medium sized...or a nightstick, A.C. Smith very well could walk out the winner.
If it’s light, Michael Lively is going to have a great night.
All I can do is my best. That’s the only thing I can bring to the table. I’ve improved, but we will see by how much.
I am excited. Rasslemania IX! I can’t believe it’s here and I have the opportunity to face two competitors the calibur of A.C. Smith and Michael Lively. Personal feelings aside, these guys are amazing athletes and wrestlers. It’s an honor to have my name in the same breath as theirs...I’m a very blessed man. I want to give my fans something to cheer about.
Believe in your dreams.
Believe in your goals.
Believe in Buckson Gooch.
Fungus’s wheels always spun out when going from the dirt road to the asphalt of Highway 8. The roar from the tires and the whistle from the open windows lull Buck into a feeling of meloncholy contentment. He wants to be on the beach. He wants to explore his mind and see where he is emotionally.
Jimmy has his nose buried in a book as Buck has his window down letting the wind blow through his matted, damp hair. A smile curls on the left side of Buck’s mouth...
Buckson Gooch: What are you reading now, son?
Jimmy Gooch: Presidential speeches.
Buckson Gooch: What?
Jimmy Gooch: “The Man in the Arena” by Theodore Roosevelt...
Jimmy clears his throat.
Jimmy Gooch: “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” I want you to think, Popz. How does that apply to you?
Buck lets a long moment pass before responding.
Buckson Gooch: I’m the man in the arena. People that don’t know me, some of which don’t even wrestle. As long as I am the one who continues to try, I’m the one that matters?
Jimmy Gooch: Exactly. You have to ignore what others are saying about you.
Buckson Gooch: Son, I've already flushed what Michael Lively and A.C. Smith have said to me. I have no reason for false bravado. They know that I'm very capable, their insecurity prevents them from truly embracing that this match will be far more difficult than they want to openly admit.
Jimmy Gooch: Wow, I wasn't expecting that.
Buckson Gooch: I can only control my actions. I can't control yours, I can't control anyone's. I'll be accountable for my actions. If I lose, it will be my fault, but if I win, the glory is mine.
Jimmy Gooch: Atta' boy, Dad.
The drive to DeGray had been taken so much by Buckson Gooch and truck, Fungus, that he sometimes wondered, if vehicles could have a mind of their own, if the truck would drive itself to the lake. The overcast skies would seem to be a somber reminder of the effects of things out of your control, but Gooch is a happy man.
Being appreciative does that.
He has air to breath and countless other blessings.
DeGray Lake was voted the most beautiful lake in Arkansas. It’s a manmade lake from the dammed up Caddo River. She sits about five miles from Caddo Valley and Buckson Gooch would spend every vacation for the rest of his life resting on the beaches of DeGray if he could get away with it.
This trip is no vacation.
This excursion is to clear his mind.
Even though he made his professional debut back in November, Buck has been around long enough to see guys try new things and fizzle out. Gooch was blessed to get called up so quickly to Overdrive. While his growth has been slow, it has been growth. He is facing some of the best wrestlers in the entire world. Buck has seen other new wrestlers start to face adversity and try things that are way outside of their comfort zone, they end up psyching themselves out and find themselves on the tail end of a series of losses. Tucking their tails between their legs they return to a wrestling company with less competent talent and take the top spot feeling like they are special.
Buckson Gooch isn’t cut out of that mold. Could he go to some less competitive companies and win gold? Sure thing. But why go somewhere with lackluster talent? Why go somewhere where he isn’t pushed to do his best? What does the gold mean in a place where you don’t have to try?
The gold in APW is precious because of who holds it. Because of the level of those who compete with them.
Buckson Gooch knows when he wins a title, it will be sweet like honey.
Is Buckson Gooch in a rut? Perhaps, but a strong showing at the Meltdown Rumble has Buck ready for this weekend. Today...Today he’s devoting his physical and mental preparation to the XTreme title.
Fans bringing the weapons.
Buck wonders if he could have Jimmy just drive Fungus down the ramp and hit the ring...it would be a fan and it would be a weapon...but he doesn’t want to cause permanent bodily harm to Michael Lively and A.C. Smith...just temporary.
Buck drives down the ramp that leads to the beach at Lake DeGray. Even after all these years, Gooch gets excited about time to sit on the beach, the cool sand, and to think. To ponder what is coming on his horizon as the Sun sets on the Ozark horizon.
From the standpoint of a fan, one of my favorite competitors in APW is A.C. Smith. He’s a man’s man. He held an honorable profession before becoming a wrestler, that of a police officer. He was highly decorated and came to wrestling.
He’s an honest man.
One thing I realize that I haven’t done since I slopped him was apologize. I saw my opportunity at the XTreme title going up in smoke as Michael Lively moved in on what I felt was my shot. I wanted to get your attention and chose to do it in a humiliating manner. That is not who Buckson Gooch is. I shouldn’t have taken it that far. For that, I apologize. Outside of the ring, I’m a man of character and my actions didn’t show that.
I’m ashamed of myself. I considered A.C. Smith a friend and I offended him, embarassing him in front of the world. I thought I needed to make a statement, and what better way than to use what I know...and I know pig slop.
Smith, you didn’t deserve that and I hope you will accept my apology.
But the result won’t change. My apology won’t take me out of this match, nor should it. I deserve to be here. A.C. Smith, hold your XTreme title close...because I’m gunning for it. I hope you watched the Rumble, I’m not the same Buckson Gooch I was when we faced each other. I’m getting better. I’m honing in on a style that is working for me. I’m sure you remember your adjustment time in leaving the force and coming into wrestling. It takes time...and I feel like I’m hitting my stride. I want that belt.
I’m going to do everything within the rules to do it.
Luckily there aren’t going to be very many rules this week.
That leads me to Michael Lively
Michael Lively. A man that truly loves himself. His accolades are to be envied...but not to the extent he believes. Has Michael Lively lost a step? For a man of his ability, how did a young rookie like me take him to the limit? Am I that good or is Lively not the wrestler he used to be?
That will be for you to decide.
That will be for the fans to decide.
That will be the question Michael Lively will have to ask when he looks at himself in the mirror tomorrow morning. Is he the same Michael Lively that he’s always been?
I know my limitations in the ring. I strive every week to make my weaknesses less glaring. I’m not perfect, but I’m not terrible. I’m not the smartest man in the world, but I’m sure not dumb.
Many of my opponents try to take liberties at my expense because of where I’m from. I’m not a stupid man. I’m a hard worker that tries to improve himself every day.
People make fun of my fellow Arkansawyers. That’s fine. You won’t be in a match against the rednecks of Southwest Arkansas...Buckson Gooch will be the man across the ring from you. I have thick skin pertaining to lame insults.
Michael Lively, if you can beat me again, I’ll shake your hand and call you the better man. Will you do the same? You will not be pinning me tomorrow night.
This is my dream. This is my lightning bolt. This is my ascension.
Michael Lively, don’t rest on your past successes...those won’t be in the ring with you...I will.
Smith...Lively...You’ll need to bring your best...you’ll be in the ring with a wild redneck hungry for success...hungry for that XTreme title.
Buckson Gooch is sitting on the south beach in his green lawn chair, his feet are dug into the rough sand and he’s watching the sun set. The confined cough of Jimmy breaks Buck out of his entrenched daydreams. Jimmy is sitting on a stool, holding a paint deck in his hand like Bob Ross, and painting on a full canvas supported by a tripod.
The calm movement of the small waves on the shore sink Buck back into his thoughts.
His focus.
Some are hurting after the Meltdown Rumble...but Buck isn’t one of them. He had a strong showing manhandling everyone in the ring. He is excited...yet at peace.
It's a weird feeling with so much coming up... so much on the line to sit peacefully with absolutely no worries whatsoever. There are plenty of things that Gooch could be dwelling on right now. There’s the business of farm life, being a husband and father, Rasslemania coming up...Gooch seems at peace with what comes to him.
This type of contentment would make most people of the world jealous. Gooch enjoys his victories, as they are trained for diligently...he licks his wounds from his defeats and learns his lessons...But to be able to have peace of mind, not just a hope for, but to have...is quite frankly awesome.
Gooch is very much a realist, he knows what his responsibilities are. Taking a break from the hustle and bustle of the world to keep his mind clear and to keep his focus is not only a good thing, but it’s therapeutic.
Jimmy Gooch: Dad, I’d like to recite a poem by Val Kilmer. I’ve been working on memorizing works that interest me. This was for his acceptance to Juilliard.
SAND, IT IS POURED IN MY SIDE
WHEN IT IS STILL, AND IT IS NIGHT,
AND GROUND ON EVEN LINES RESTS
IN SLEEP.
WHEN SHEETS AND PILLOWS AND SMOOTH MOUNDS THAT
COMFORT AND ARE LIKE HOME-SAFE, DISTORT TO MOVE IN
TO WHAT IS PAIN FOR ME, THEN I MOVE, AND THEN I ASK
FOR MY DREAM AGAIN.
I’M SORRY, CAN I START OVER?
NO. AND THAT’S A POINT, FOR I CAN NEVER REALLY BE
SORRY,
I CAN ONLY APOLOGIZE FOR YOU….
FOR YOU SHE SAID, “IT IS PLAIN THAT NOTHING CAN BE
ADDED
TO THE MIND ALREADY FULL….”
NOW I TRULY BELIEVE THAT; ONLY IT MUST AS WHEN,
(IN OUR IGNORANCE OF INNOCENCE)
WE HAD OUR CHOICE OF THINGS, BECAUSE WE LEFT THINGS
THE WAY THEY ARE.
WITHOUT SAND. IT IS POURED IN MY SIDE, WHEN IT IS
STILL
AND IT IS NIGHT
AND I SEE PLAIN
AND MY ERROR REMAINS
AND I CHOOSE, TO LOOSE MY SENSES,
TO SAND….
AGAIN?
And now, I really must go.”
Buck politely applauded as he pondered Jimmy's words. He looked down at his feet, seeing the sand. What seemed like billions of individual pieces collectively allow there to be a beach...and allows him to dig his feet into their cool bodies collectively.
Buck nodded at his son with approval and Jimmy sat back down on his stool and began painting again.
Jimmy Gooch: Hey Dad, when are we leaving?
Buck knew better than to think his son was being impatient and wanting to leave, his concern was more about having enough time to continue the project he was working on. Buck didn’t want to remove his feet from the cool, gravely sand, so he just assumed that Jimmy was drawing a modern version of the sunset, perhaps with the Sun being played by some world power turning the lights out on the hopes and dreams of the middle class.
Buck laughed to himself and saw the beautiful, now purple, sun dancing on the water. A sea-doo came speeding down into the cove where the beach was and caused the dancing to be just a spray of purple as the ripple came towards the beach, crashing in small waves on to the shore.
Water.
Water is what sustains life on this planet, yet water can be deadly...and water can be very powerful.
These baby waves turned the loose sand into mud. Packing the sand together and making it harder. Water changed the make-up of the beautiful sand.
The grains of sand didn’t have a choice as to where they landed, or even how they got there. They were connected through a stream of coincidence...much like this triangle match with A.C. Smith and Michael Lively.
The stipulation is what makes the matter a muddy one. Fans bringing the weapons will make what was going to be an intense, violent match into a blood bath. Buckson Gooch is not afraid to bleed for the XTreme title nor is he afraid to bleed for honor.
How big will the wave of destruction be? The fans can be the judge of that. Buck is excited. He’s nervous, but it’s a good excitement. It’s an anticipation. He’s heard stories of competitors having their Rasslemania moment...will he have one in his first year? Will he cement his place as a competitor in APW?
When people run down strong MegaStars, names appear like TMarv, Level-One, Biggs, Envi, Noble, Hart, Smith, Lively, Mania...will Gooch be a name that will be added to that list? Is Rasslemania the event that will help put him on the mat.
Jimmy Gooch: Dad, I’m finished.
Buckson is jerked back to reality with his son’s comment. Buckson ponders how long he stared at the water, the sand, and the mud. How long was he thinking about bloodshed and violence? He was truly a man lost in thought.
Buckson Gooch: Really? What did you paint?
Jimmy Gooch: Come see.
Buckson lifted his feet and shook off the sand. He lifted himself out of his green lawn chair and headed over to his son. Buck turned behind his son and looked at the painting...it...it was beautiful.
Jimmy had practically put on canvas what Buck was doing only moments before. In the painting, Buck has his feet buried in the sand. His eyes intense, with small wrinkles at the eyes. Above the paintings were recent events that Buckson has encountered.
...Him and Mark Mania locking up...
...Him pinning A.C. Smith...
...Him giving a vicious clothesline sending an opponent out of the ring from the Rumble...
...A shot of Gooch and Delikado talking on the radio...
...And in the middle of it all, the XTreme championship...
Buck didn’t realize that his eyes were watering and a tear fell and dropped on his son’s shoulder. Buck wasn’t afraid to openly weep, this was a moving piece of art that summed up his emotions.
He was proud of his son, he was proud of his accomplishments, he was proud of who he is and what he’s becoming in the ring.
He’s emotionally raw, he’s mentally sharp, he’s physically ready.
Buckson Gooch: Thank you, son. I’m so proud of you.
Jimmy Gooch: I’m proud of you, too, Dad....we just need to get you caught up with the times...but we can do that later. You're following your dreams. You're giving people something to believe in. To have hope in. You are an inspiration, Pops.
Buck wipes the access tears away and laughs. Oh Jimmy and his modern trends. He pats his son on the back and Jimmy gets his paints together and autographs his picture in graphite.
Buckson Gooch: Let’s go home, son, before your Mama starts to worry about us.
Buck grabs his green lawn chair and watches as the last bit of maroon sun dips behind the Ozarks. The night is falling, Rasslemania is tomorrow. Months of preparation and hard work will culminate in his battle for the XTreme title. Jimmy grabs his supplies and they walk to Fungus. Buck grabs Jimmy and hugs him. The scene fades out as the Goochs slide into the ‘74 Dodge and drive off in the dark.
Time for talking is done. I’m hoping fans will bring something heavy for me to smash Smith and LIvely with. I’m ready to give my all.
To give my best.
To give my all.
We’ll see if it’s good enough. I’m big, I’m strong, and I’m capable. This triple threat match could very well steal the show at Rasslemania IX. My brute strength, Smith’s skill, and Lively’s tenacity will make this match a sight to be seen.
There’s nothing left to be said, the only thing left is a night of sleep and a time for action. A call to arms. This is the moment I signed on the dotted line for. This is the moment where you’ll get to see the evolution of Buckson Gooch. I’m going to be a top notch MegaStar. Get on my team, cheer me on, I won’t let you down.
But it will be me who makes it a night to remember.
Dreams will come true.
I can make no excuses for my loss. Delikado is smart wrestler. Crafty. Brilliant. He deserved to win and even though he was the straw that broke the camel’s back and tossed me over, I have to give him his due. Delikado did a masterful job, and as a fan of the APW wrestling product, I’m excited to see his title match.
Now onto the matters at hand. Last week was fun, but it will have no bearing upon the triangle match that I have with Michael Lively and A.C. Smith. When it comes to pedigree, I’m the least. When it comes to heart, I’m at the top of the list...but where the match will get interesting is weapons.
The fans bring the weapons.
The variable has changed.
The interesting thing about Michael Lively, A.C. Smith, and me is that we all have wins over each other and losses to each other. Our slates are even. The variable has changed.
Fans will be the difference.
What they bring could very well mean the difference in this match. The difference in approach by all of us.
Large equipment will be my forte. If it’s heavy. I can swing it. I can do a lot of damage.
If it’s something medium sized...or a nightstick, A.C. Smith very well could walk out the winner.
If it’s light, Michael Lively is going to have a great night.
All I can do is my best. That’s the only thing I can bring to the table. I’ve improved, but we will see by how much.
I am excited. Rasslemania IX! I can’t believe it’s here and I have the opportunity to face two competitors the calibur of A.C. Smith and Michael Lively. Personal feelings aside, these guys are amazing athletes and wrestlers. It’s an honor to have my name in the same breath as theirs...I’m a very blessed man. I want to give my fans something to cheer about.
Believe in your dreams.
Believe in your goals.
Believe in Buckson Gooch.
--------------------------------------------------------
Fungus’s wheels always spun out when going from the dirt road to the asphalt of Highway 8. The roar from the tires and the whistle from the open windows lull Buck into a feeling of meloncholy contentment. He wants to be on the beach. He wants to explore his mind and see where he is emotionally.
Jimmy has his nose buried in a book as Buck has his window down letting the wind blow through his matted, damp hair. A smile curls on the left side of Buck’s mouth...
Buckson Gooch: What are you reading now, son?
Jimmy Gooch: Presidential speeches.
Buckson Gooch: What?
Jimmy Gooch: “The Man in the Arena” by Theodore Roosevelt...
Jimmy clears his throat.
Jimmy Gooch: “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” I want you to think, Popz. How does that apply to you?
Buck lets a long moment pass before responding.
Buckson Gooch: I’m the man in the arena. People that don’t know me, some of which don’t even wrestle. As long as I am the one who continues to try, I’m the one that matters?
Jimmy Gooch: Exactly. You have to ignore what others are saying about you.
Buckson Gooch: Son, I've already flushed what Michael Lively and A.C. Smith have said to me. I have no reason for false bravado. They know that I'm very capable, their insecurity prevents them from truly embracing that this match will be far more difficult than they want to openly admit.
Jimmy Gooch: Wow, I wasn't expecting that.
Buckson Gooch: I can only control my actions. I can't control yours, I can't control anyone's. I'll be accountable for my actions. If I lose, it will be my fault, but if I win, the glory is mine.
Jimmy Gooch: Atta' boy, Dad.
The drive to DeGray had been taken so much by Buckson Gooch and truck, Fungus, that he sometimes wondered, if vehicles could have a mind of their own, if the truck would drive itself to the lake. The overcast skies would seem to be a somber reminder of the effects of things out of your control, but Gooch is a happy man.
Being appreciative does that.
He has air to breath and countless other blessings.
DeGray Lake was voted the most beautiful lake in Arkansas. It’s a manmade lake from the dammed up Caddo River. She sits about five miles from Caddo Valley and Buckson Gooch would spend every vacation for the rest of his life resting on the beaches of DeGray if he could get away with it.
This trip is no vacation.
This excursion is to clear his mind.
Even though he made his professional debut back in November, Buck has been around long enough to see guys try new things and fizzle out. Gooch was blessed to get called up so quickly to Overdrive. While his growth has been slow, it has been growth. He is facing some of the best wrestlers in the entire world. Buck has seen other new wrestlers start to face adversity and try things that are way outside of their comfort zone, they end up psyching themselves out and find themselves on the tail end of a series of losses. Tucking their tails between their legs they return to a wrestling company with less competent talent and take the top spot feeling like they are special.
Buckson Gooch isn’t cut out of that mold. Could he go to some less competitive companies and win gold? Sure thing. But why go somewhere with lackluster talent? Why go somewhere where he isn’t pushed to do his best? What does the gold mean in a place where you don’t have to try?
The gold in APW is precious because of who holds it. Because of the level of those who compete with them.
Buckson Gooch knows when he wins a title, it will be sweet like honey.
Is Buckson Gooch in a rut? Perhaps, but a strong showing at the Meltdown Rumble has Buck ready for this weekend. Today...Today he’s devoting his physical and mental preparation to the XTreme title.
Fans bringing the weapons.
Buck wonders if he could have Jimmy just drive Fungus down the ramp and hit the ring...it would be a fan and it would be a weapon...but he doesn’t want to cause permanent bodily harm to Michael Lively and A.C. Smith...just temporary.
Buck drives down the ramp that leads to the beach at Lake DeGray. Even after all these years, Gooch gets excited about time to sit on the beach, the cool sand, and to think. To ponder what is coming on his horizon as the Sun sets on the Ozark horizon.
------------------------------------------------
From the standpoint of a fan, one of my favorite competitors in APW is A.C. Smith. He’s a man’s man. He held an honorable profession before becoming a wrestler, that of a police officer. He was highly decorated and came to wrestling.
He’s an honest man.
One thing I realize that I haven’t done since I slopped him was apologize. I saw my opportunity at the XTreme title going up in smoke as Michael Lively moved in on what I felt was my shot. I wanted to get your attention and chose to do it in a humiliating manner. That is not who Buckson Gooch is. I shouldn’t have taken it that far. For that, I apologize. Outside of the ring, I’m a man of character and my actions didn’t show that.
I’m ashamed of myself. I considered A.C. Smith a friend and I offended him, embarassing him in front of the world. I thought I needed to make a statement, and what better way than to use what I know...and I know pig slop.
Smith, you didn’t deserve that and I hope you will accept my apology.
But the result won’t change. My apology won’t take me out of this match, nor should it. I deserve to be here. A.C. Smith, hold your XTreme title close...because I’m gunning for it. I hope you watched the Rumble, I’m not the same Buckson Gooch I was when we faced each other. I’m getting better. I’m honing in on a style that is working for me. I’m sure you remember your adjustment time in leaving the force and coming into wrestling. It takes time...and I feel like I’m hitting my stride. I want that belt.
I’m going to do everything within the rules to do it.
Luckily there aren’t going to be very many rules this week.
That leads me to Michael Lively
Michael Lively. A man that truly loves himself. His accolades are to be envied...but not to the extent he believes. Has Michael Lively lost a step? For a man of his ability, how did a young rookie like me take him to the limit? Am I that good or is Lively not the wrestler he used to be?
That will be for you to decide.
That will be for the fans to decide.
That will be the question Michael Lively will have to ask when he looks at himself in the mirror tomorrow morning. Is he the same Michael Lively that he’s always been?
I know my limitations in the ring. I strive every week to make my weaknesses less glaring. I’m not perfect, but I’m not terrible. I’m not the smartest man in the world, but I’m sure not dumb.
Many of my opponents try to take liberties at my expense because of where I’m from. I’m not a stupid man. I’m a hard worker that tries to improve himself every day.
People make fun of my fellow Arkansawyers. That’s fine. You won’t be in a match against the rednecks of Southwest Arkansas...Buckson Gooch will be the man across the ring from you. I have thick skin pertaining to lame insults.
Michael Lively, if you can beat me again, I’ll shake your hand and call you the better man. Will you do the same? You will not be pinning me tomorrow night.
This is my dream. This is my lightning bolt. This is my ascension.
Michael Lively, don’t rest on your past successes...those won’t be in the ring with you...I will.
Smith...Lively...You’ll need to bring your best...you’ll be in the ring with a wild redneck hungry for success...hungry for that XTreme title.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Buckson Gooch is sitting on the south beach in his green lawn chair, his feet are dug into the rough sand and he’s watching the sun set. The confined cough of Jimmy breaks Buck out of his entrenched daydreams. Jimmy is sitting on a stool, holding a paint deck in his hand like Bob Ross, and painting on a full canvas supported by a tripod.
The calm movement of the small waves on the shore sink Buck back into his thoughts.
His focus.
Some are hurting after the Meltdown Rumble...but Buck isn’t one of them. He had a strong showing manhandling everyone in the ring. He is excited...yet at peace.
It's a weird feeling with so much coming up... so much on the line to sit peacefully with absolutely no worries whatsoever. There are plenty of things that Gooch could be dwelling on right now. There’s the business of farm life, being a husband and father, Rasslemania coming up...Gooch seems at peace with what comes to him.
This type of contentment would make most people of the world jealous. Gooch enjoys his victories, as they are trained for diligently...he licks his wounds from his defeats and learns his lessons...But to be able to have peace of mind, not just a hope for, but to have...is quite frankly awesome.
Gooch is very much a realist, he knows what his responsibilities are. Taking a break from the hustle and bustle of the world to keep his mind clear and to keep his focus is not only a good thing, but it’s therapeutic.
Jimmy Gooch: Dad, I’d like to recite a poem by Val Kilmer. I’ve been working on memorizing works that interest me. This was for his acceptance to Juilliard.
SAND, IT IS POURED IN MY SIDE
WHEN IT IS STILL, AND IT IS NIGHT,
AND GROUND ON EVEN LINES RESTS
IN SLEEP.
WHEN SHEETS AND PILLOWS AND SMOOTH MOUNDS THAT
COMFORT AND ARE LIKE HOME-SAFE, DISTORT TO MOVE IN
TO WHAT IS PAIN FOR ME, THEN I MOVE, AND THEN I ASK
FOR MY DREAM AGAIN.
I’M SORRY, CAN I START OVER?
NO. AND THAT’S A POINT, FOR I CAN NEVER REALLY BE
SORRY,
I CAN ONLY APOLOGIZE FOR YOU….
FOR YOU SHE SAID, “IT IS PLAIN THAT NOTHING CAN BE
ADDED
TO THE MIND ALREADY FULL….”
NOW I TRULY BELIEVE THAT; ONLY IT MUST AS WHEN,
(IN OUR IGNORANCE OF INNOCENCE)
WE HAD OUR CHOICE OF THINGS, BECAUSE WE LEFT THINGS
THE WAY THEY ARE.
WITHOUT SAND. IT IS POURED IN MY SIDE, WHEN IT IS
STILL
AND IT IS NIGHT
AND I SEE PLAIN
AND MY ERROR REMAINS
AND I CHOOSE, TO LOOSE MY SENSES,
TO SAND….
AGAIN?
And now, I really must go.”
Buck politely applauded as he pondered Jimmy's words. He looked down at his feet, seeing the sand. What seemed like billions of individual pieces collectively allow there to be a beach...and allows him to dig his feet into their cool bodies collectively.
Buck nodded at his son with approval and Jimmy sat back down on his stool and began painting again.
Jimmy Gooch: Hey Dad, when are we leaving?
Buck knew better than to think his son was being impatient and wanting to leave, his concern was more about having enough time to continue the project he was working on. Buck didn’t want to remove his feet from the cool, gravely sand, so he just assumed that Jimmy was drawing a modern version of the sunset, perhaps with the Sun being played by some world power turning the lights out on the hopes and dreams of the middle class.
Buck laughed to himself and saw the beautiful, now purple, sun dancing on the water. A sea-doo came speeding down into the cove where the beach was and caused the dancing to be just a spray of purple as the ripple came towards the beach, crashing in small waves on to the shore.
Water.
Water is what sustains life on this planet, yet water can be deadly...and water can be very powerful.
These baby waves turned the loose sand into mud. Packing the sand together and making it harder. Water changed the make-up of the beautiful sand.
The grains of sand didn’t have a choice as to where they landed, or even how they got there. They were connected through a stream of coincidence...much like this triangle match with A.C. Smith and Michael Lively.
The stipulation is what makes the matter a muddy one. Fans bringing the weapons will make what was going to be an intense, violent match into a blood bath. Buckson Gooch is not afraid to bleed for the XTreme title nor is he afraid to bleed for honor.
How big will the wave of destruction be? The fans can be the judge of that. Buck is excited. He’s nervous, but it’s a good excitement. It’s an anticipation. He’s heard stories of competitors having their Rasslemania moment...will he have one in his first year? Will he cement his place as a competitor in APW?
When people run down strong MegaStars, names appear like TMarv, Level-One, Biggs, Envi, Noble, Hart, Smith, Lively, Mania...will Gooch be a name that will be added to that list? Is Rasslemania the event that will help put him on the mat.
Jimmy Gooch: Dad, I’m finished.
Buckson is jerked back to reality with his son’s comment. Buckson ponders how long he stared at the water, the sand, and the mud. How long was he thinking about bloodshed and violence? He was truly a man lost in thought.
Buckson Gooch: Really? What did you paint?
Jimmy Gooch: Come see.
Buckson lifted his feet and shook off the sand. He lifted himself out of his green lawn chair and headed over to his son. Buck turned behind his son and looked at the painting...it...it was beautiful.
Jimmy had practically put on canvas what Buck was doing only moments before. In the painting, Buck has his feet buried in the sand. His eyes intense, with small wrinkles at the eyes. Above the paintings were recent events that Buckson has encountered.
...Him and Mark Mania locking up...
...Him pinning A.C. Smith...
...Him giving a vicious clothesline sending an opponent out of the ring from the Rumble...
...A shot of Gooch and Delikado talking on the radio...
...And in the middle of it all, the XTreme championship...
Buck didn’t realize that his eyes were watering and a tear fell and dropped on his son’s shoulder. Buck wasn’t afraid to openly weep, this was a moving piece of art that summed up his emotions.
He was proud of his son, he was proud of his accomplishments, he was proud of who he is and what he’s becoming in the ring.
He’s emotionally raw, he’s mentally sharp, he’s physically ready.
Buckson Gooch: Thank you, son. I’m so proud of you.
Jimmy Gooch: I’m proud of you, too, Dad....we just need to get you caught up with the times...but we can do that later. You're following your dreams. You're giving people something to believe in. To have hope in. You are an inspiration, Pops.
Buck wipes the access tears away and laughs. Oh Jimmy and his modern trends. He pats his son on the back and Jimmy gets his paints together and autographs his picture in graphite.
Buckson Gooch: Let’s go home, son, before your Mama starts to worry about us.
Buck grabs his green lawn chair and watches as the last bit of maroon sun dips behind the Ozarks. The night is falling, Rasslemania is tomorrow. Months of preparation and hard work will culminate in his battle for the XTreme title. Jimmy grabs his supplies and they walk to Fungus. Buck grabs Jimmy and hugs him. The scene fades out as the Goochs slide into the ‘74 Dodge and drive off in the dark.
----------------------------------
Time for talking is done. I’m hoping fans will bring something heavy for me to smash Smith and LIvely with. I’m ready to give my all.
To give my best.
To give my all.
We’ll see if it’s good enough. I’m big, I’m strong, and I’m capable. This triple threat match could very well steal the show at Rasslemania IX. My brute strength, Smith’s skill, and Lively’s tenacity will make this match a sight to be seen.
There’s nothing left to be said, the only thing left is a night of sleep and a time for action. A call to arms. This is the moment I signed on the dotted line for. This is the moment where you’ll get to see the evolution of Buckson Gooch. I’m going to be a top notch MegaStar. Get on my team, cheer me on, I won’t let you down.
But it will be me who makes it a night to remember.
Dreams will come true.
