Post by Van Zant on Sept 11, 2016 20:33:09 GMT
T H E W R E S T L E R //
To say that Violet was surprised that she won her professional wrestling debut in RSW would be a filthy lie. But, to say that Hailey Banks put up less of a fight than Violet predicted would be an understatement. Violet may be an insufferable pain in the ass on most days and sure, she'll gloat about her achievements and boast about her past accolades however she will also certainly give credit where credit was due, and in the case of Hailey Banks, that much is true. In spite of the newly acquired respect for the sport and last week's opponent, Violet decided to celebrate privately instead of bragging through social media.
What's done is done, and what's to come is next.
Speaking to Violet's habits as an athlete, though, she possessed an incomparable work ethic; it would appear as though most people are overlooking her background not only as a street fighter, but an NCAA wrestler. Maybe she isn't used to the "pizazz" the professional stage offers, but it only meant that she was entirely focused on technique and power; an unfortunate feat when it comes to sizing her up if you're Zach Knight.
"ROLL, VAN ZANT! ROLL UNDER!"
The raspy, guttural demands of head coach Martin Ptsazek at All-Phase Wrestling in West Linn, Oregon roll reverberate through the white brick walls like thunder. Martin has been Violet's wrestling coach since she was in high-school, and upon graduating from the West Linn High School Wrestling club, was taken in to APW which housed NCAA wrestlers of all ages.
"My fucking elbow," Violet rolls onto her back out of the clinch she was in with a meatier wrestler named Joey, who had been practicing at the club for the last few years. Violet clutches at her elbow, shaking the tension out.
"Your fucking elbow, what? Hurts? Welcome back to wrestling, kid. Get up," Martin barks, no trace of sympathy in his voice. Violet does as she's instructed in a timely, disciplined manner.
"What's wrong with you, huh?" Martin lightly slaps Violet upside the head, "You have one big-time match and you forget how to wrestle?"
"Dude," Violet snorts, "I didn't forget anything. I went out there with a completely different skill set than the one they have, and used what was in my tool box, to fix my problem. Now I'm in the top rankings, I've got a win under my belt, and I'm in contention for a Championship in a sport I've not had any formal training in," Violet heaves, sweating bullets that pour down her chin and drip to her chest. She points to the mat, "I know what my technique's like, I know where I have to improve."
"Well get to it, then," Martin raises his voice as if he had no idea what Violet was doing, "Because this dude isn't some slinky blonde you can toss around. You're strong, kiddo, but Joey's the same height and weight as Knight. Whaddaya' gonna do?"
Martin shrugs, his eyes widen in expectation looking at Violet for an answer, but she knew the question was completely rhetorical.
"Use speed. Strike with precision," Violet took a deep breath in, and an exhausted breath out, collecting her thoughts in the process and thinking logically. "Wait for timing, let him gas early. Start slow and logical, let him lead . . . Let him set the pace. Figure him out. Finish him with power, hit and hit hard."
Martin taps the forefront of Violet's head, in a condescending way that she knew was just a shield for the tough love he had for one of his best athletes. "Now you're thinkin'. See, it's all the same shit, just a different toilet, kid. You got the tools, now what can you do with them? That's what this crap is all about," Martin refers to both martial arts, street fighting and professional wrestling when he says "this crap".
"Got it," Violet reluctantly turns her back to Martin, rolling her shoulders and her neck to ready herself to roll with Joey again.
"It's like I always say, kid," Martin calls out after her . . .
"Stick to the game plan," Violet finishes the sentence she knew he'd say next. She laughed, truly appreciating the coach-fighter connection she had with him.
"Damn right. Now go ice that elbow," Martin lazily points to Violet's wrung out limb, shouting incoherently to a couple of the other grapplers as he walks away.
