Post by ZƎRO on Aug 25, 2016 21:44:19 GMT
Project ZERO: Part III
The meeting didn't go as I expected. “You’re to new to the business”, Criss Dream would say to me. “We’ll talk in a couple of years once you've put some experience under your belt.”
I have no idea what he said to Jamie or Ginny, I left pretty much immediately after. Boarding a plane from Toronto to [LOCATION REMOVED], I called Adam Blake and filled him in on the unfortunate circumstances.
Voicemail. Just my luck. Turns out, Adam was in Albany, New York with his prized protege, Gavin.
This was when my attention turned to the Pro Wrestling Illustrated I purchased before boarding. I thumbed through the pages, reading up on the highlight of the issue; various companies in America and Canada. And then, turning the page to the nod that the writers have to Mexico, listing some of the “companies to watch”.
Getting a mention in the article for Mexican promotions was Cartel de Lucha Libre, a company based in Guadalajara owned by Sebastián Suárez.
That was when I got the idea. Send a tape to Suárez and see what he thinks.
---
He gave me a chance. I had to pay for my trip, and a one way was all I could afford. It would be interesting if things didn't go my way.
Arriving in Guadalajara, I immediately stood out. I didn't know the language, and among the high flying, masked Luchadors on the roster - I was a purebred, straight technical artist. I didn't jump around, and to the guys that did - I punched them in the face until they stopped.
I had a try out match against another Luchador that was just out of the wrestling academy. A solid six minute bout that saw me wrestle circles around him, ground him down and make him submit. Pure technician. When I returned backstage I had a small envelop waiting for me. My name scribbled in black marker with a note attached.
Obviously written in Spanish.
I'll have to translate it later.
I stuff the little bit of money I was paid into my bag before beginning to unlace my boots. A Luchador sat next to me, which I didn't acknowledge not until he picked up the note that I sat next to me. I stopped what I was doing and just looked up to the guy, “what are you doing?” I asked.
“volver la próxima semana” he replied in his native tongue. He wore a colorful mask, red green and white to represent the colors of his country. There was a moment of silence which made him turn his head to me. He must have noticed that I didn't understand. With a chuckle, he spoke again but this time in English. “Come back next week it says.”
I let out a silent “oh” and nod my head. I turned away from him again after thanking him, and began to unlace my other boot. I heard him shuffle around, but didn't turn to look. By the time I was finished and pulled my boots off, I turned to him just in time for him to hand me a mask. I took it from his hands and looked at it inquisitively.
“You did good tonight, my friend. But you need to fit in here. Wear this.” … “No thanks”, I replied. I didn't mean to offend anyone, and I'm sure he knew that. He didn't get angry, but stood up over me still holding the mask out. “You're starting over here. You know, reinventing yourself. Starting at zero, amigo.”
I took the mask and stared at it and he walked away.
“Starting at zero.
Starting at zero.ZERO.”
