The Truth

[goodburn]

Act I: The Truth

One of the most important things to Kyle Goodburn, my son, is the facts, and the truth. There was a quite an ordeal when my son was a young teen that changed his entire life. One of the reasons he has been so successful in his life is because he has knowledge and truth on his side. Kyle knows when you start saying lies, you are on the losing end of the battle, when you make up facts, you are losing. My son does not use such tactics.

Kyle and I are on our way to a local hot spot in our home city of Grand Rapids, Michigan, called Leo’s. Both of us are talking about the latest Meltdown in which Kyle Goodburn ended the hot streak of some self-made millionaire. We turn our topic to Stefan Raab, yet another big shot. I mention his name and Kyle begins to laugh, his mouth going ear to ear.

“Yet another guy who is going to say he can beat me,” says Kyle, “And then eventually, has to amend his statement.”

“He has quite the list of claims already.” I inform Kyle, “He says that; Germany is a greater country than America, Germany also has the best athletes, also, size does not matter.”

“Of course he would say size doesn’t matter.” Says Kyle, “But hey, he must get the job done, his fiancé is pregnant, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it’s his baby.”

“One other thing,” I tell Kyle, “he thinks Americans are dumb.”

“Ach die Menschheit.” Says Kyle, “Wie ursprünglich.”

“Pardon me?” I ask Kyle.

“Oh the humanity,” replies Kyle, “how original, in German.”

I shrug at the explanation. I have no clue if the translation is correct or not, but it sounds like an ugly language. I cringe at the thought of a German couple trying to talk dirty to each other. No matter what, it would sound like an argument.

“I feel sorry for his wife,” I say to Kyle, “Can you imagine if he got upset, or turned on at her? It must be quite alarming.”

“I would rather not think about Mr. Raab’s love life,” Kyle replies, “after all, we are on our way to lunch. I want to keep my food down. I need to be able to keep my food down after all, I have an overweight German after me. Or would he be considered an average weighing German?”

“I don’t know.” I tell Kyle, “I don’t keep up on that stuff anymore.”

Kyle chuckles at the subtle joke. Kyle and I have always been able to keep up with each other’s subtle humor. It’s one of our traits which show that he and I are father and son. It’s nice having moments like this with Kyle, they are rare, but it reminds me that it is going to be a pleasure being part of our winning team. It’s always fun winning.

“That idiot…” Kyle says to me, I turn to Kyle and see that he is on his smart phone, watching a video of some sort. I lean over to see who he is watching. Kyle has found a recent video of Mr. Raab “Yet another moron attacking civilians.”

“What did he do to that guy?” I ask Kyle. “He looks hurt.”

“Oh, that’s his killer oven,” Kyle says to me, “or killer gas, or killer Sophie, or some German move like that. The guy is using barbaric motivating tactics to get pumped up about our match.

Kyle begins laughing at what he is hearing. His seat is shaking from his laughter, whatever he caught, it must be good.

“Oh, Raab, he truly made my next insult too easy.” Kyle says as he laughs, “Nothing I burn is good, in fact, it’s a bad thing. Mark this in the history books Dad, this German just admitted to burning things!”

I chuckle along with Kyle, I must admit, this Raab guy needs to watch what he says, seeing as he is from a country with a sketchy past. Kyle continues to chuckle to himself, now and then shaking his head from disbelief.

“Well, isn’t Raab lucky, he doesn’t care what I have to say about him.” Kyle says, “I guess Raab won’t care then about the choice words I have for him.”

I begin to get worried. Kyle has a long history of delivering insult upon insult, never know when to stop. It would have gotten him into trouble, but he usually found a way around that, usually by making the other person too depressed to report any transgression.

“Raab, let’s just get one thing straight,” Kyle starts off saying, “I’m the guy between the both of us that doesn’t care about what the other has to say about them. I don’t even care that the Meltdown General Manager has taken a notice in me, that was to be expected. I took a guy’s hot streak and finished him off in a matter of minutes, making him my personal wag doll. If memory serves me right, he said the same thing that you said, that you’re going to beat me.”

“Albert Einstein said something,” continues Kyle, “A man is insane when he repeats the same formula and expects different results, this is the same situation. Same song, second verse! ‘I’m going to beat you!’ says my opponent, and then he gets demolished! I don’t care if you aspire to be the second generation Andy Kaufman, if you want to beat up on women and claim to be the intergender champion, be my guest. But don’t try making me to be Jerry Lawler, because I have no interest towards you, you’re a waste of my time. I’ll understand if your German blood is wanting to prove Albert Einstein wrong, but you won’t.”

“Go ahead, burn the American flag,” Kyle says, “Brag about it all you want, but to be honest, I was under the impression that you were a grown married man. Here you are though, acting like a drunk teenager on any given holiday. This is the main difference that I hope our Meltdown General Manager can see between us. Neither of us are fan favorites, but you’re going at it all wrong Raab. People don’t like me because of the same reason’s people don’t like their bosses. I say it as it is, I’m confident in myself, I make results happen. You on the other hand are the reason people don’t like Harley Davidson riders. You’re loud, obnoxious, you want to be the topic of everyone’s discussion when you’re in the room. You are the child that never grew up. But you got older, you figure you have a lot of freedom now, so you go around and do whatever you want, and now you look like a total ass."

I look on at Kyle, a bit stunned at his comments, but not surprised, I know the kind of people Kyle can’t stand, and Raab is one of them, I expect his assault on Raab to continue. It does.

“if you don’t believe me Raab,” Kyle continues, “maybe you should take a look at how wiling your wonderful wife is to giving you your space. Every time Raab, every time I see you on TV, your wife excuses you, for your benefit of course. But I have another theory. I think your wife cannot stand you. I think every time you speak, your wife cringes at your terrible grammar. I also think she is disappointed in herself, for being able to attract such a man like you, or perhaps lack of a man. Here you are, losing your mind because you think you hear me in your head. I do wonder how that makes her feel.”

“Stefan, there are many types of relationships,” Kyle says, “you are in the one where the woman is stuck, and she has to find ways to get away from you so she can actually talk with intelligent people. While you are gone, I think she is probably talking with ex-boyfriends that she dumped, because they were too smart for her. After being with you, she finds their company thrilling. Does she find you interesting? Or does she refer to your wrestling career as, ‘the event thing’?”

Kyle often did find married couples an easy target for trash talking. Every marriage has problems, and Kyle can sniff any sort of conflict between marriages a mile away. He never considered it a low blow ever. If it’s there, use it. Not the worst logic in the world. After all, this is a game, Kyle and I want to win.

“Hey, maybe I’m wrong,” Kyle says, but he never means it, “Maybe your wife does care about you, Stefan. Maybe she does care about the drunk, sick, insane wrestler that will just end up on another edition of Dateline specials about overdosed wrestlers. You can end up on the collection of wrestling DVD’s with the likes of Scott Hall, The Ultimate Warrior, I’m pretty sure one of the Doink The Clowns is on that shelf too.”

Kyle has a habit of making his insults exponentially more mean hearted by the sentence. I think about stopping him, but I think more of it. He must have a reason for trying to get under Stefan Raab’s skin. Perhaps Kyle thinks a black eye would look good on him, or maybe a sling on the shoulder would be a great accessory. But it all comes back to Kyle’s need to win. He obviously believes this is the correct road to go down. The road… I notice that we are almost at Leo’s. I lean towards Kyle cautiously, because he is very worked up, and inform him that we are just a few seconds from Leo’s. Kyle looks at me and nods.

“Listen Stefan,” Kyle says, “I’m not going to delay my meal schedule just to try and get through that thick German skull of yours. I’m hungry, so I’m going to eat. On Meltdown, I’ll be in a mood to get my hands on the mentally challenged, and you fit the bill. Let me remind you though, you are nothing to me. That is that. Nothing personal, I just hate morons.”

Act II: What Does It Mean?

We are seated, and enjoying a nice spaghetti meal. It is the best they have, which actually means a lot. All of their food is amazing. Leo’s is our spot. Father and son, this is where we eat. Leo’s is ours, we don’t own it, but we don’t go to Leo’s with anyone else but each other. The camera crew being here is a little unnerving to me, but I see it doesn’t bother Kyle, so I can live with it. As we wrap the spaghetti around our forks, using the special spoon they provided, I start asking Kyle some important questions that is on my mind.

“Kyle,” I say more in a questioning voice, “Raab doesn’t mean anything to you, but how is it that he got on your nerves so much?”

Kyle continues to wrap the spaghetti on his fork, and takes a bite, then answers me. “He is facing me,” Kyle says, “I figure he should know how I feel about me. He was polite enough to tell me how he feels about me, apparently he knows me well enough that he ‘knows’ he can beat me. I provided him with what I know about him, which is a lot more than he knows about me. Perhaps after our match, he will know a lot more. Unlikely though.”

His answer is not good enough for me, I push on. “you hate this man,” I say to Kyle, “I can tell. I’m sure everyone watching knows you hate Stefan, there is more to this than you are showing.”

Kyle takes another bite from his plate and waits a few beats until he answers me, “That wasn’t just for Stefan, my comments are to show the big wigs producing Meltdown that I am in a far greater league than the likes of Stefan Raab. They are shoving me in matches against the likes of this idiot, they obviously don’t know where to put me. Well after Meltdown, they will have a much better idea of where to put me. And if they don’t know where to put me, well I guess we’ll see if it’s time to jump ship to someplace else.”

“Kyle,” I reply, “it’s only your second match…”

“Hey now,” Kyle says, “I’m not surprised that they don’t know where to put me yet, this is just a warning to them. I’m going to show them what I can do, and they can do what they like with me after they see how pummeled Stefan is. My hope is that they don’t shove me in a match like this again. If they do, then maybe I should go to a different show that will know what to do with me.”

“So, you are saying,” I say to Kyle, “that this message isn’t just for Stefan, but you want to explain that you are a higher talent than Stefan to the folks at Meltdown?”

“Yes,” Kyle replies, “I hate Stefan, that is for certain, but I am annoyed at Meltdown for putting me in this kind of match. My first match was great, but now I am nothing more than the wrestler that no one knows what to do with. That is a problem. I will take it upon myself to show them where I belong. If they don’t put me where I belong, then I won’t be here or there, anymore.”

Is Kyle being conceded? I cannot tell anymore. That’s one of the problems with being his manager now, I can’t tell if he is asking for too much or not enough. Part of me wants me to tell him to be patient, another part of me is telling me to tell him to go for it all, go for the big gold. I decide his plan meets me half way on both ends.

We continue eating our meal, cutting up the meat balls and spreading them around our plate, the flavor of everything is excellent. Kyle decides to ask me for my expert opinion, great.

“What do you think I should do?” He asks me, “You are in charge, aren’t you?”

I’m in charge? This is news to me. Then I think about it… Game, this is a game, and we are on the same team, the winning team. I decide to play with the other half of the team, and to go for our goal. The legacy.

“We stick to the plan,” I tell Kyle, “we are making a legacy here, and it takes time. We will deal with Stefan because we have to. After that, he is history. Then we continue on with our legacy.”

That’s the answer to the question, and it’s the best answer at the moment. We deal with what is ahead, and push on. That’s our plan.