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The Beginning; PPV RP1
Topic Started: Feb 19 2008, 11:27 AM (282 Views)
Lamarta
sVo Rookie
[ * ]
“Okay, Mr. Lamarta. We’ve taken care of the basics, now let’s delve deeper. Shall we?”

Nate sighed. As he rested on the comfortable leather couch of the psychiatrist’s office, he began to think over the reasons why he was wasting his Saturday afternoon being evaluated by this nutjob. It was Rachel’s idea to make him come to this ridiculous shrink, and he wasn’t taking it very well. Nate just wasn’t used to sitting down and revealing his inner most thoughts to anybody. ANYbody. Not even his wife. It just isn’t the kind of thing that big professional wrestlers do, is it?

But it didn’t really matter too much at the moment, because he was here anyway. His wife convinced him that he needed some “professional” help to get over the nightmares he’d been having, and he succumbed. He was sick of waking up every night at three in the morning in a cold sweat too, but this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. There were so many things he could have been doing: preparing for his sVo debut for example, which was a big issue in the near future. A triple threat against two fellow sVo newcomers? A great way to prove his worth to the federation. Besides that he could be spending some free time with his kids, lifting weights…

The old shrink pushed his glasses back up onto his face and stroked his white beard, looking over Nate thoughtfully. “Mr. Lamarta, do you remember exactly WHEN you started having these nightmares?”

Of course Nate remembered. How could he forget?

“About a week or so before my tryout match for the sVo.” Nate’s tone had a hint of impatience, but the doctor ignored it.

“And you and your wife believe that you began having these dreams about failing because of an injury you suffered a few years ago? One that nearly ended your career?”

Nate closed his eyes and tightened his mouth, nodding silently.

“Hmmm…” The doctor began to stroke his beard again, looking down at a clipboard with an intrigued look on his face. “Mr. Lamarta, let me ask you something here. Have you ever been employed full-time, anywhere, that didn’t involve professional wrestling in some fashion? After college, perhaps, before you had finally decided on your career?”

Nate put his hands behind his head and sighed again, bored with bringing up details of his past. “I didn’t go to college. I had a football scholarship to Colorado State before I was kicked off my high school team. I dropped out of high school a few weeks later. I worked in construction for a year or so before a friend got me to try my luck in professional wrestling. I haven’t looked back.”

The doctor takes off his glasses melodramatically, as if this is some kind of strange revelation. “You were kicked off your football team and then you dropped out of school? That must have been quite an unexpected shock to your family and friends. A major event worth noting, hmmm?”

Nate nods painfully, the memories flooding back. He remembered the look on his mom’s face, the screaming of his father, being shunned by his former friends and teammates. Not something he liked to think about.

“Yes, it was. My dad had been very involved in my sports career at school. It was the one thing that we had in common. He was stunned when I quit.” Nate ponders this for a moment. “Well, I like to say I quit the team, but everyone at home says the coach kicked me off. In reality I guess it was mutual between both parties.”

The shrink sits up in his couch and uncrosses his legs, looking quite serious. “What happened between you and your family?”

‘Why am I telling this guy this crap?’ Nate thought to himself. What does high school have to do with these stupid nightmares? Nate considered getting up and leaving the office, but then decided that he’ll go through with the appointment. Reluctantly. For Rachel.

“My mom was pretty disappointed that I blew my chance to get my college paid for. My coaches wrote a bunch of letters and made some phone calls to Colorado State that convinced them to rescind on their scholarship offer. My dad practically stopped talking to me. I guess I thought that I had failed them. I thought I hadn’t lived up to their standards.”

The psychiatrist sets his clipboard off to the side and he takes a long look at Nate, who just stares straight ahead. Bringing up these memories brought up some pain with them, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience for Nate to endure. Finally the shrink says, “Nate, I want you to tell me everything you remember about the day you were kicked off your high school team. Please. You might not think it’s very important, but I think it is. Okay?”

Nate groans inwardly. ‘I don’t want to do this…’ He thinks to himself. Too much pain…

“Nate?”

Nate takes a few more moments to think it over. Finally he says, “Okay. Here it goes.”

The dark office of Nate’s shrink begins to slowly fade away as Nate recalls one of his most forgettable memories in his life…

September 2nd, 1981
Football Practice Field


“Nate, go long!”

In the hot August sun the Colorado Springs Rampage high school football team scrimmaged for the final time before their first game the following evening. Colorado Springs football had a long tradition of greatness, and the Rampage had won the city title and gone deep into the playoffs for five straight years. A large part of the recent success was due to #32, the starting halfback and one of the most sought after recruits in America. His name was Nate Lamarta.

Nate acknowledged his quarterback, Randy, with a slight nod as he squatted down into a 3-point stance. Randy went through the cadence like the coaches had ingrained into his head for three straight weeks and then hiked the ball. Nate took three steps forward, his arms set to receive the handoff, but Randy kept the ball and dropped back into a pass. Nate raced downfield, outrunning the nearest defender by more than five yards, and then turned and caught the ball perfectly on the run and jogged into the end zone.

This was just a scrimmage, of course, but for the past three years Nate had been having similar results on the game field as well. His natural talent, combined with his speed and strength, had college scouts and coaches drooling. Nate had been having the time of his life during his four years on the varsity, and it showed.

Nate jogged back to the huddle as the coaches blew the whistle and motioned for the team to kneel down and take their helmets off. “Good practice,” said Coach Jim Kelly. Kelly had been voted Coach of the Year of the city league for three straight years. Progressively a change had been taking place in his manner, though, and teams had been having less and less fun each season. Football was starting to become more like boot camp then a game to most of the players. Many expected that the increase in the number of workouts was because Coach Kelly was obsessed with winning the Coach of the Year award for the fourth year in a row: a league record. The coach’s pride and arrogance were getting in the way of what was best for the team, but the players accepted it simply because of one thing: they loved football.

Randy kneeled down next to Nate, sweat dripping off both of their faces. “Hey Nate, nice work out there. I thought I might have thrown the ball a little too far on that last pass, but I underestimated your speed,” Randy joked. Nate grinned and shot back, “You always do.”

The two were forced to be quiet, however, as Coach Kelly began to speak. “You boys look ready. We’ve been preparing all summer for the opener against Central, and I finally think that you boys are ready to go.” He smiled proudly, hands on his hips. “I’ve been through the tapes a thousand of times, and I’m confident that we’ve got the right defense to shut down Central’s offense. And everyone knows that putting up points won’t be a problem for us.” He paused as the team collectively stole glances at Nate. Then he continued, “No one will want to play us, and everyone will fear us. We’ll be right on our way for a sixth consecutive league title.” The coach paused, and laughed. “Not even Keenan Phillips will be able to stop us.”

Keenan Phillips was the star wide receiver of Central’s squad and another coveted college recruit. He had speed that matched Nate’s and great jumping ability that allowed him to leap up and catch passes over smaller defenders. Keenan also happened to be black. This wasn’t something that upset Nate; he wasn’t a prejudice person. But Nate had always suspected that the coaching staff held a grudge against the African American star from Central. Keenan had transferred to Central two years ago from Detroit, Michigan, and he was the one person on Central’s team that worried Coach Kelly.

The coach clapped his hands together and said, “All right, boys. Pick up the equipment and hit the showers. And get some rest tonight, we have a big day tomorrow!” He blew his whistle and dismissed the team, and Randy and Nate began to pick up the practice dummies that were strewn across the field. As they dragged the dummies to the equipment shed Randy nudged Nate, gesturing to Coach Kelly. The coach was having a small chat with the top linebacker for the Rampage, Freddie Jackson.

“I wonder what he’s talking to Freddie about?” Randy said. Nate also looked interested. It wasn’t like the Coach to stick around and chat after practice. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I’m going to go see if I can hear what they’re saying.”

Nate dropped his practice dummy and hurried back over towards coach, pretending he had dropped his mouthpiece. He caught the tail end of the coach’s statement: “I swear to God, Freddie. I don’t want that animal to be able to walk after you’re done with him. Understand?” Freddie nodded, a twisted grin on his face. Nate couldn’t believe his ears.

“Coach!” Nate shouted. “You aren’t telling Freddie to put a cheap shot on Phillips tomorrow, are you?”

Coach Kelly stared at Nate, stone faced. He stared straight into Nate’s eyes, trying to see he could best answer that statement. Nate stared straight back. “Nate,” the coach started, “You do what you have to do to gain an advantage, son. Central can’t touch us without Phillips.” His expression was cold and heartless.

“I can’t believe this! Coach, what are you saying?” Nate gaped at his coach.

“I’m saying, Nate, that I’m not going to lose tomorrow. And Freddie here is going to make sure of that, right Fred?” Coach Kelly smiled, and Freddie nodded.

Nate didn’t know what to make of this, he was so angry. There were plenty of ways for an aggressive player to take out someone if they really were focusing on one person. A late hit out of bounds, leading with your helmet instead of your shoulder, ‘accidentally’ stepping on player after the whistle has blown. If Freddie was caught he would certainly earn a penalty, but nothing more serious then that. He glared back at his coach, and shouted, “Then you can do that without me, Coach. I’m out of here.” Nate dropped his helmed and threw off his shoulder pads, marching towards the locker room.

The coach jogged up next to him, a bit panicked. “Be reasonable, Nate. You don’t want to go do that, do you? It’s your last year at school! You don’t want to give up now…” The coach pleaded with his star running back, but Nate just continued walking. Coach Kelly began to get angry, hoping that would spark a response from Nate. “That’s fine, Nate. Just fine. We can finish this season just fine and dandy without you. We don’t need a quitter who cares more about himself then his teammates, anyhow!”

Nate whirled at this, aware of the stares of his teammates and not caring. “And I don’t want to play for a coach that cares more about his own legacy then the well-being of the kids who play for him. You go to hell, Kelly.” And Nate spat at the feet of his three-year coach, marching back into the locker room and clearing out his locker.

He never told anyone about the reason he quit the team, not even his best friend, Randy. He figured no one would believe his story, anyhow, as the Coach told the team that the reason Nate quit was because he was upset about the number of times he got the ball a game. Anyone who really knew Nate understood that he was the most unselfish player on the team and would never say such a thing, but that didn’t matter. His name was crap at Colorado Springs. After his parents began ignoring him at home Nate moved out of the house and dropped out of school. School had become a prison for Nate, as each day he was faced with a thousand other people who hated him for quitting on their school and on the team that they worshipped Friday nights. Most of his sport loving teachers hated Nate, too, and even though his quality of work went up his marks began going down.

It was only a matter of time until Nate quit his construction job and joined the ranks of professional wrestling. He eventually married the one person who expressed sympathy towards him in high school, his sweetheart, Rachel, and he became a big time name in the wrestling business. Since becoming successful in wrestling he has smoothed things over with his parents, but every time they’re together Nate can tell that they still are upset he quit football and school, although they never talk about it. Is this memory the reason that Nate is having nightmares in the present?

Back to the Psychiatrist’s Office
Present Day


Nate finishes retelling the memory and remains silent. The shrink looks up from his clipboard, and adds, “I think that explains a lot, Nate.”

Very slow to catch on to things like this, Nate looks puzzled. “What? How does that solve anything?”

“You already feel that you’ve disappointed your parents as a teenager and you don’t want to disappoint your new family if you don’t succeed in your current comeback.” The doctor strokes his beard, nodding. Nate rubs his head. “It was a bold decision to quit the football team based on your morals and principles, and you felt that you let your family down. It was a bold decision to make a comeback after all the doctors you spoke to told you it was the wrong idea. If you don’t succeed here you’ll feel like you failed your wife and your children, your new family. And that is something you can’t live with.”

Nate gulps, taking all this information in. “So what do I need to do, Doc?” He is genuinely serious.

“It’s simple, really. You just need to accept that your current family are not your parents. They love you, and no matter what happens they will always be there to support you. Obviously your parents didn’t support you in your decision to quit football and quit school, and that has scarred you quite a bit. Until you accept that your wife and your children will not be disappointed in you regardless of your success in the ring you will keep having these nightmares.”

Nate takes a deep breath, and he nods. “All right, Doc. This session has been surprisingly… good. Thanks for the help.” He stands and offers a handshake to the psychiatrist, who shakes it warmly.

“Anytime, Nate. I don’t think you’ll be having any further problems, but if you do, please contact me.”

“I will, Doc. Thanks again.” Nate opened up the door to leave and smiled for the first time in three weeks.
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