America, Here I Come (Pt. 1)

[Tommy Knox]

- AMERICAN HIGHLIFE -

Some people say that things happen for a reason. I’ve never really understood that statement up until this day. My career in this business has been an up and down roller coaster for just over four years now. It seems that just when things are starting to head in a positive direction they get sidetracked with bullshit drama that lingers in my every shadow. I’ve been flyin’ a little under the radar lately dealing with some legal issues back home but the word on the street is that my name has been cleared. We were last down this road when I first stumbled into Mexico earlier in the year touring with the dead end of my career. What a lovely time it was touring this shithole with the likes of those jerkoffs… pfft. It’s time to come back home. I’ve done my time in this hell long enough. Having the few contacts I still have in this business came in handy when I landed another gig with APW. What a coincidence it was, though. I knew that Kash was already there runnin’ the scene. What better moment for me than this time right now to make a statement? This was predictable. We all knew that this was inevitable. Kash and I were bound to run into each other again. That isn’t what I’m concerned with folks. I had no fuckin’ clue that my debut match would be against a long lost friend and brother. Ted, where in the hell did you come from? First you retired back in 07’ and then you made a few appearances in 09’ when TcW reunited. I would have never imagined that you would be standing across the ring from me. I know I’ve been through hell the past few years but all that for this? Things don’t happen for reasons. I’ve learned over the years to accept that and move forward, but every time I do an original crosses my path. The first three are all here under one roof now brother. We’ve already tried this once without you and things fell apart. Maybe you’re the reason that our first attempt ended in failure. I know for a fact that there’s more to it for my scenario but you are the missin’ piece of the influential puzzle.

I’ve fought my way to this point in an attempt to get back on my feet. I don’t understand the significance of this random match brother, but it’s nothing personal. You can trust that I wouldn’t include emotion with my business. After we beat the hell out of each other we can catch up in the back over a few beers. The asshole who first said that all things happen for a reason can kiss my white pale ass. I’m callin’ bullshit. We all get what we work for, I’m a prime example of that. When I have my head on my shoulders I’m a valuable asset. When I have my head up my ass you can always tell because my performance reflects. I’ve been trainin’ in the toilet of America for months now. I’m getting to a point in my career where I need to either shit or get off the crapper. I’ve pissed away enough of my talent. A new man will stand before you in the ring Ted. All of the shit I have been through didn’t happen for a reason. It happened because it’s what I earned. You being the opponent in the ring against me in my return didn’t happen for a reason. It was pure luck. We can sit here and disguise it with names until the sun sets but at the end of the day it wasn’t fate. It was pure luck, plain and simple. I’m not goin’ to sit here and tell you that I won’t try to make the best out of the situation. Afterall, we were and still are… brothers in arms. I entered this business lookin’ up to you old friend. The three of us ran things both in and out of the ring. Maybe I should stop reflecting on the past but if I do what does it all mean? If we’re not supposed to look back on the great moments in our lifetime then what’s the point of workin’ so hard to achieve those moments? After it’s all said and done, it was nothing more than a wasted effort. Whether or not things happen for a reason, I’m still walkin’ into this match with one thing on my mind. Winning. It doesn’t get any more simple than that. True, we’ve stood beside each other watching over one another. But our past is nothing more than a memory when I enter that ring. I’m coming home. America, here I come…”

- America, Here I Come, Chapter 9 -

Friday 09:21 AM [August 12th, 2011]
Mexico City, Mexico

It felt like hell. The air was scorching hot without a trace of moisture in the mix. The downtown streets are dead, as if Mexico City was nothing more than a ghost town. Trash clutters the street and sidewalks, as the gentle breeze carries them along for the ride. The city has been struggling with a mild drought in the area over the last couple of weeks. Comparing this place to hell could just as well be considered an understatement. Surrounding life ceases to exist.

Almost all surrounding life, that is. In the heart of the city is where Knoxville made his new place to call home, a place to hang his coat for the night. Shit hit the fan a while back up north. The DEA has been up his ass ever since. They thought they could break him. They sure as fuck thought wrong.

About two months ago Knoxville was arrested and charged with trafficking a large amount of medicinal marijuana across the country in an attempt to penetrate the North Carolina border. This was a set up from the start. At least that was Tommy’s story. He stuck to it, up to this very day. Claiming to be unaware of the narcotics he was able to buy himself some time when his bail was posted.

Once a free man, always a free man. Not sticking around for his court date Knoxville jumped town and skipped on bail. Fleeing south of the border, Knoxville found himself in the toilet of America. He found himself In Mexico, right in the middle of this mother fucker. Just a few weeks earlier his career came to a stop when signed with dying promotion, Wrestling Championship Federation.

The taste was still in his mouth. That sour taste still lingered in the back of his throat every time WCF was mentioned in his presence. What started out as a promotional stunt, a joke, turned into a downward spiral taking all in its path of destruction. Let’s get back to the story though, shall we?

The heart of the city is where Knoxville called his new home. This is where he gave every ounce of blood, sweat and tears fighting to make this comeback. We all knew that this one day would come. It was only a matter of time before the case disappeared and he strolled back across the border to the great USA.

Today, different than no other, we find ourselves in the depths of Mexico’s dirtiest back alleys. The grunge and filth of this maze around the city is where Knoxville made a new name for himself. Coming to this country as nothing but a gringo he quickly earned quite a reputation as he bulldozed his way through the local amateur luchadore promotion.

From starting out as a mere gringo he was now on top of the world just south of the border. The south quickly learned the name Tommy Knoxville as they learned to fear his alias, “el hombre de hierro”. That is what they called him down here. Iron Man is what they called him up there. It’s time to get this “Iron Man” back home where he belongs.

Just as up north, he made a name for himself down here as being a major influence in the surrounding city. Some things haven’t changed, not too much that is. Behind a rundown gym close to the edge of the action he can be found most mornings tossing around large construction tires, chasing chickens, working out or getting knocked around by groups of luchadores looking to prove a point.

Today was no different. Early, like always, he was found at the same spot with an unknown trainer of Latin decent pushing him with choice words. Unrecognized, the trainer pushed Knoxville to his limits as the fiery sun beat down on him from above merciless. It didn’t bother him. Having the heat factoring in with his workout gave him a little peace of mind when he thought about it.

It didn’t matter, though. He was determined to make this comeback, which could possibly be his last run, one to remember. He appeared to have that look in his eye. You know, the look of being hungry to succeed both in and out of the ring. Things just haven’t been going in his favor. He knew it. He didn’t like it, but he knew it.

Things in the south were just the opposite. Down here, he steamrolled through the competition and devoured anything that crossed his path. No matter how big things get down here, one will always have that look in their eye wanting to cross over to the next level. America was that next level. He has been there in the rankings once before. Was he ready to try it all once more?

“Forget about that bum you destroyed a few nights back! You need to focus on what was presented to you in the midst of all the celebration. The deal… opportunity of a lifetime.” The trainer yelled with a soft accent. Shaking his head back and forth, Tommy bit his lower lip and pushed just a little harder as the sweat slowly crept down his rough skin falling to the dirt below.

To be continued...