Wrestling the Russian

by Desean Rambo

  “Brianna! What happened to you girl? You look like hell,” Tony yelled out at me as soon as I met him in the living room. He did not mince his words.

  Like most of our family Tony is a straight shooter. He’s a tall guy maybe 6’2 and relatively big at about 220 lbs. He’s the type of guy that knows he can get away with saying what’s on his mind because of his physical size.

  “My car broke down. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I just couldn’t get it to turn over,” I replied to my cousin.

  “I told her she needs to get a new one,” My dad interjected as he walked to the kitchen with his work boots clacking each step of the way.

  “Well unfortunately, I can’t afford that,” I said back. My cousin noticed the paperwork I had from the gym.

  “What’s all the paperwork for? Don’t tell me you’re going back to school. You already can’t pay for the degree you got,” he said.

  “I’m not going back to school yet. This is actually a gym application,” I replied.

  “Good. Some people think all the answers are in them classrooms. You got to get out and live a little life, then see where you should spend ya time,” he added.

  “Ok Kanye West,” I retorted.

  “I’m the college dropout but who got more money?” Tony said as he played with the brim of his Memphis Grizzlies fitted cap. His dreadlocks poked out from underneath the sides.

  Tony is the black sheep of the family in a way but also very street smart. There’s a five year age gap between us. He’s 30, a college dropout, former drug dealer, and now a successful promoter for a liquor brand in Memphis. He’s lived life on his own terms and actually made it. I admired his hustle but hated his delivery at times. This was one of those times.

  My father reappeared from the kitchen with a Pepsi. He took a seat with us in the living room.

  “Nephew, did you ask Brianna why she was at the gym?” Tony glanced at me to see what was up.

  “I’ve made the decision to train to be a pro wrestler,” I said.

  Tony looked at me, then at my father to see if he was being punked. He could sense I was serious.

  “Are you deciding to train to be a wrestler, or have you decided you are going to be a wrestler?” he asked with his straight forward delivery. That simple statement rocked me. I never really thought about it on those terms. Was I making the decision to just train or was I going all the way? Was I jumping in the deep end or did I just have a toe in the water?

  “I… never really thought about it like that,” I said quietly.

  “I’m just asking because they’re not the same thing. It takes a whole different level of commitment to make it. You need a completely different mindset. Either you are all in or all out. You can’t be a halfway hustler. Especially with something like that where it’s a huge time commitment,” Tony continued.

  “You’re right. Well I’ve made up my mind that I want to do it so I am going to pursue it. Nothing will stop me,” I said, trying to find reinforcement in the cliché.

  Tony corrected me once again.

  “Check this. When I was in prison I told myself whatever I was going to do I was not going to go back. Whatever it took I was not coming back to prison, ya feel me? Well, when I got out it wasn’t that easy. I still had fiends that wanted to be served. I could still get work for the low. How was I about to let all that easy money go?

  “That’s how I got caught up with that second charge. I was riding around on some dumb ‘ish with a loaded gun and some grams. It wasn’t until the second time I got out that I finally decided the streets weren’t for me, ya dig?

  “I came home, gave the whole stash box to my partner. I got rid of all my work, my pistol, and went complete cold turkey. It wasn’t until then I realized I could push liquor the same way I pushed the kush and not have to worry about going to prison for it, ya dig?”

  A big toothy grin overtook him. He was so proud of himself.

  “I got you,” I said, correcting, “But it’s not that easy. That’s different. You just moved from something illegal to something legal.”

  Tony leaned in. I was challenging his reality but he wasn’t budging.

  “Well Brianna, let me ask you this. If I can figure it out with no education and two strikes, what’s holding you back?”

  I thought about it for a few minutes. I glanced over at my father. He sipped his Pepsi as he intently awaited the answer. This was the type of conversation he loved. I thought about it for a minute longer before I held the answer.

  “There’s no where around here to just walk in and start,” I said, adding, “All the girls train in Orlando, Florida and that’s invite only. The only way to make it is to get in front of people at a smaller wrestling school.”

  “And what’s the problem?” Tony said.

  “There aren’t any in Nashville. The only decent ones are in Memphis,” I replied.

  Tony leaned back then hopped up off the couch. He called back to me.

  “I’m leaving for Memphis right now. It’s nothing for you to ride with me.”

  “What about my car? My job?” I snapped back.

  My cousin’s back was turned to me as he approached the front door. He didn’t want to hear it.

  “I’m going to smoke a cigarette and listen to one song then I’m leaving. You got five minutes.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The taillights on Tony’s cutlass Oldsmobile lit up bright red as he pulled out of the driveway. I ran behind at full speed flailing my arms wildly.

  “Stop! Tony wait!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  He stopped about six houses later. I struggled to catch my breath as I opened the heavy passenger side door. I flung my haphazardly packed travel bag in the car as I climbed in behind. Tony smiled.

  “I knew you were coming,” he grinned.

  “How did you know this?” I asked.

  “You’re a Hall. We don’t quit. We are Ford tough, kid.”

  “You’re not slick you know you saw me way back there.” I said as I smiled.

  “I had to see how bad you wanted it,” Tony nodded to confirm.

  “I was running like Will Smith in that Happyness movie!” I said as I continued to catch my breath. Tony wasn’t concerned.

  “Sometimes you have to literally chase your dreams,” he said. A loud rap song blasted from the speakers.

  “What are we listening to?” I asked.

  “That new Yo Gotti Cocaine Muzik,” Tony answered.

  “I thought you left that life alone. Why do you want to hear about it all the time?” I replied.

  “You can’t leave the streets. The streets is where all the real are at. From da dopeboys, to the hustlers, to the dream chasers. This is that real street energy. I feed off this. You wouldn’t know nothing about that though cuz. At least not yet,” he said.

  Nashville to Memphis was a three hour trip. We had a little bit of time to catch up.

  “So what made you decide to do this wrestling gig?” Tony said as he steered the big cutlass. His Memphis accent pronounced wrestling as wrasslin.

  “It’s just time. I’m just ready to do something different. I realized what you realized. Nothing really matters. We get one life, you know?” I replied. Tony smirked.

  “I had to go to the penitentiary to realize it. You didn’t. You got to do what you want while you still got the time.”

  I sat back and admired the mountains passing the passenger window.

  “So true. I just want to be someone to the world. I want to make the family proud and be a role model for little girls like my niece. I can’t do that shipping packages at Kinkos the rest of my life.”

  “Young Brianna, you have a lot to learn about life,” Tony smiled.

  “Like what?’ I replied.

  “You’re a 25 year old black woman with no kids. You got a whole lot of life in front of you. I’m glad you’re at least trying something new out,” he replied. I took it as an insult.


  “So you think I’m not going to make it?” I retorted.

  “I don’t know what you’re going to do . That’s up to you,” he said.

  We had to stop for gas about halfway in Jackson, Tennessee. The old school cutlass pulled us into an Exxon Parking lot. Tony reached in his jacket as the car came to a halt. He pulled a shiny silver Desert Eagle handgun out his jacket pocket and put it in my lap. As a man who’s been in several life threatening incidents he took no chances.

  “I’m going to pay for this gas. You watch my back. I don’t like how these country boys get,” he said as he disappeared into the store.

  I sat in the car holding the gun as my heart raced. I wasn’t expecting to be packing heat when I embarked on this journey. I tucked the weapon under my shirt and waited for Tony to get back. A car pulled up on the opposite side of the pump. A tall white guy with brown hair got out of his Ford F 150. A little boy that looked just like him sat quietly in the passenger seat. The man smiled at me as I waved back. Tony was right. There was a lot of life I had to life, particularly in the relationship area. I always envisioned having children and a family by now but things did not work out the way I thought they would have. The man pumped his gas using the credit card terminal. He called out to me.

  “Nice car! You don’t see too many old schools,” he said.

  “Thanks. I just try to keep it clean,” I said back.

  “Take care of it. It’s a classic beauty,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure if the beauty he referred to was me or the car. It was probably the car. I smiled again as I anxiously waited for Tony to get back and take his stupid gun back.

  Three minutes later, Tony emerged from the store in a too cool for school slumber. He pumped the gas with his head on a swivel, regularly looking to me as if I was his bodyguard. He was way too paranoid, but then again he grew up in the hood and dealt drugs for at least thirteen years. It was all he knew. He finished up pumping and got back in the vehicle.

  I could barely hold the gun it was so heavy.

  “Why do you have this big gun? Do you really need it?” I said as I handled the shiny weapon.

  “I’ve been beat down three times by the pigs. I can’t be too careful in the streets. The police are the biggest gang of them all,” Tony dismissed my concern.

  “And your answer is to shoot back at them?” I asked.

  “Maybe you’re right. But I’d rather be judged by twelve—“ he started.

  “If you say so Tupac. Where did you get that thing? My dad used to have a gun just like that,” I said as I looked out the window at the cascading mountains.

  “That’s because it’s his,” Tony said.

  “Are you supposed to have that? Are you licensed? What happens if you get caught?!” I replied.

  “Of course I’m not supposed to have that. I’m a convicted felon twice over. However, that gun is old enough to be considered an antique, so technically you don’t need a license to transport it in a vehicle,” he proclaimed.

  “Yeah if it was legal for you to have, which it isn’t,” I said.

  “Yeah but I’m not transporting it. You are,” Tony said matter-of-fact. He was right again. He always had the street savvy answer. I exhaled as I resigned to my position.

  We got to Memphis around seven o’clock. It was fresh into the evening. Tony stayed in a small apartment complex. His building was a four unit brick building with two levels. Tony’s apartment was one of the upstairs units. I grabbed my bag as we parked and made our way inside.

  I hadn’t been to Tony’s place in a while. The last time I remembered the spot was real minimal. He didn’t own anything that didn’t have a purpose. I quickly saw that image of the apartment was completely outdated as he flicked the lights on. The place was very nice but it felt like an office now.

  Boxes of promotional liquor items were neatly stacked along the living room’s walls. He upgraded to a 50 inch flat screen with a new suede couch and matching black rug. Promotional liquor posters hung on the wall. Though it definitely felt like the back office of a liquor store to a degree, I was really impressed.

  “You’ve done well for yourself. This is totally different than the last time I came over,” I said.

  “I’ve been hustling cuz. I don’t have all the answers. I just know what works for me and I keep doing it until I can’t no more,” he said as he plopped his hat off. His dreads swung in every direction.

  “Let me show you where you’ll be at until you get yourself together,” my cousin said as he trotted down his small hallway and opened one of the doors.

  It was a bedroom neatly laid out with a twin bed, a small television and a dresser. The bed looked as if it had been made that way for months. It was oddly the only room in the apartment with no visible liquor products.

  “Who’s room is this?” I said as I put my bag on the bed, wrinkling the comforter for the first time in months.

  “This is my son’s room.” Tony said quietly.

  I totally forgot he had a child. His son was born just as he went to prison the first time. Tony rarely spoke about him.

  “What ever happened with that?” I asked as I looked around the gloomy, empty feeling room.

  “His stupid ass mother took him to Kentucky. I hate that bitch.”

  My eyes locked on the dresser. There was a single framed photo of the boy and his mother propped up on top of the dresser. I totally forgot what the boy looked like. He reminded me of a little kid version of Terrance Howard with his curly afro and light eyes. He had a big goofy smile in the photo along with his blonde tatted up mother. She looked exactly like the type of white girl you’d expect a drug dealer to attract.

  “How old is he now? I haven’t seen him since like, ever. How is his mother doing? And what’s in Kentucky?” I asked. Our family never shied away from difficult topics, it was how we communicated.

  “You know what she told me Brianna? She told me I didn’t have rights to visitation because of my charges. I hate Jamie, I really do. She moved to Lexington for some job or something. Last I heard she was working at Whole Foods or something like that,” Tony started.

  “Don’t her parents live in Memphis? When’s the last time you’ve seen him? How old is he now?” I continued.

  Tony took a deep breath. The topic was infuriating.

  “Don’t remind me. Her folks only come over here when they need something. They don’t even see Little T when I got him. We worked out an agreement; I mean Jamie forced me to agree that I get him for the summer and fall school break. And I have to give her $500 a month for expenses or whatever. He’s just had his fifth birthday. I got him some clothes and some Wii games. That’s what he wanted.”

  “That seems understandable,” I said. I really didn’t have any words of encouragement. I had no idea how these types of relationships worked. My parents were married for 21 years and counting.

  “It wouldn’t be so bad if Jamie didn’t have a bitch fit every time we had to talk about something,” Tony replied. I shrugged. I was out of words.

  “You’re welcome to anything you want. Mi casa is you casa,” Tony said, continuing, “I have to work on this event for Brown Hawk Bourbon. I’m trying to move 20,000 cases this quarter. I’ll be in the living room.”

  He retired to his work for the evening which included endless phone calls, emails, and sorting through boxes of promotional items. I turned the television on in Little T’s room.

  I flicked through the channels until I stopped on the sports channel. Oddly enough WWW was on. It was their weekly nationally televised show. I quietly watched as I studied the action in the ring. A tall girl had the microphone in the middle of the ring. I recognized her. She was Laura Grey.

  Laura was considered one of the best female wrestlers of all time. She was a former college basketball player where she won a National Championship and also a famous fitness model slash bodybuilder outside the ring. In a word, the 6’1 blonde Swedish model was the total p
ackage. She also was the Ladybird Champion.

  “I will not stop until every woman in that locker room realizes that Laura Grey is not to be challenged. I am the Ladybird champion! I am undefeated! I am female wrestling!” she said each word with increasing conviction. The camera zoomed in on her ocean blue eyes. The look on her face was a mixture of determination and insanity.

  “There is not a woman in that locker room or on this planet that can defeat me in this ring!” she said as she flipped the heavy Ladybird Championship belt over her wide muscle-bound shoulders. The belt was a large pink leather strap with gold emblems. The center plate featured two large wings spread larger than the average woman’s waist. It almost looked like toy on Laura Grey’s broad shoulder.

  Some music hit. Out ran one of the fan favorites, April the Wonder. I’d seen her wrestle before. She was a tiny Asian girl but really athletic and quick. Compared to Laura she was a child. She stood up to Laura as the crowd ate up the stare down.

  A referee rang the bell and they got it on. April was no match for Laura. Laura played with her like a rag doll. She slammed April the Wonder by the neck onto the canvas and dropped her size ten boots on her. There was nothing she could do.

  Laura played the crowd’s energy. She mocked the little girls who booed her. She yelled at grown men. Everyone was beneath her. Suddenly the crowd jumped to their feet. April caught Laura off guard with a well placed dropkick. The underdog worked her magic as the crowd cheered her on.

  She quickly pinned Laura. One… two… nope! Laura easily powered out. She gave April a blow to the stomach and lifted her by the waist. Boom! Laura slammed April flat on her back in her finishing move, a commanding power bomb. The referee counted to three. Laura Grey won again in convincing fashion.

  I’d watched wrestling for years but this was the first time I watched this intently. I wasn’t watching the show as much as I was watching the crowd. The little boys and girls in the crowd were crushed to see the villain prevail again. Laura paraded around the ring with her Championship belt with a smug look on her face. I knew at that moment what had to happen.

  I had to make it to that ring.

  I had to become their hero.

  I had to defeat Laura Grey.