Post by Danielle Basch on Nov 4, 2017 8:06:24 GMT -5
Blue Bonnet Trailer Park
Lawndale, CA
Wednesday, November 01, 2017
In the distance, footsteps fall along the old, weathered asphalt, passing several empty pads. There’s no telling how long it’s been since any of the pads were occupied; only concrete slabs surrounded by patches of dry grass remain where trailers once stood.
With each step, the footsteps grow louder, until they reach the end. There, at the end of the asphalt path, a single 1987 Airstream sits beneath the shade of an old tree. The camera pans around, revealing a “FOR RENT” sign taped to the inside of one of the windows. After a second, the jingling of a set of keys breaks the silence as they are inserted into the lock on the main door... okay, so it’s the ONLY door.
The hand holding said keys? One of the two challengers for Ruby Lance’s South Bay Championship, Danni LeBlanc, the handle of a large, hard-sided case clutched in her hand.
She opens the door and steps inside, the camera following her to reveal a horribly-dated avocado-green carpet with a matching Formica coffee table, an old, black faux leather sofa along the far wall. Danni sits down, her pants squeaking against the material as she sets the case down beside her.
Danni: Never forget where you came from. It’s the lesson my mother drilled into my head from the time I was a little girl. So, what the hell am I doing here in this permanently-stuck-in-the-80’s trailer?
She stands up, stretching her arms outward as she slowly turns around. Once she’s facing the camera again, she lowers her arms.
Danni: It’s simple. Lawndale is the heart of the South Bay, and for the first year of my life, this was my home. You see, shortly after I was born, my grandparents decided it was time for my mother to strike out on her own; to learn the hard way just how difficult raising a child by yourself could be. And in case you didn’t know, rent in El Segundo doesn’t come cheap, so this was pretty much all she could afford. During that year, my mother busted her ass to make sure I had everything I needed, and eventually, it paid off. She was able to save up for a bigger place to live, and thanks to a modeling gig that launched her career, she was eventually able to afford to move back to El Segundo.
For that reason, my mother has always been one of my biggest supporters, as well as my biggest inspiration. And because of everything she’s done for me, I’ve made it my life’s mission to continue to bust my ass and EARN my way through life, and that means busting my ass in every aspect, whether it be in or out of the ring.
She shoots a quick glance over her shoulder at the case on the end of the sofa before turning back to the camera.
Danni: So, I’ll bet you’re wondering what’s in the case. Don’t worry; I’ll get to that later. First, I came here to make a point.
No matter how big of a deal you get to be in this life, there’s always a chance that you could find yourself with next to nothing. Hell, some of us start out that way. The point is, you should never forget where you came from, no matter how far down the totem pole you were. Learn to respect the journey you’re on, or you’ll never fully appreciate the reward once you get to your destination.
Beside the sofa is a small drop-leaf table. She sets up the table, then picks up the case, placing it carefully on top of the table.
Danni: Which brings me to this case right here.
She opens the case, pulling out a championship belt bearing the insignia of her former promotion, the Asylum Wrestling Alliance. On the center plate, it reads “United States Champion.” She stands there, holding the gleaming title in her hands, feeling the weight of the metal and leather for a moment before slinging the strap over her shoulder. As her hand grips the edge of the belt, there’s a hungry look in her eyes, like a tigress about to pounce on an antelope.
Danni: This beauty here is on loan from Alicia Perry. It was the last title she held before she retired as a wrestler. Why do I have it, you ask? Because by feeling the physical weight of a championship, I can understand just how heavy a burden being a champion really is. One of the most important lessons... and one that both she and her husband continuously drill into their students’ minds is the idea that obtaining a championship is the easy part. The REAL work comes after. But it’s not because of the endless line of people that will be coming after you, looking to take what you’ve fought for.
For me, the South Bay Championship is more than just a title. It’s a symbol of pride that belongs to the hard-working people of the 18 cities that make up this region. From the engineers in El Segundo to the refineries in Torrance, from the scenic cliffside homes along the Palos Verdes Peninsula where you almost feel like you need a seven-figure salary just to breathe the air, to places like this where you’re just grateful that the roof doesn’t leak when it rains, the people of the South Bay come from all walks of life, and I am proud to call myself one of them.
Ruby, you knew from the moment you first strapped the South Bay Championship around your waist that everyone in the South Bay division... for that matter, everyone that didn’t have gold around their waists... would be staring holes into you, looking for any opportunity to take what you’ve got. And there have been times when you’ve cast doubt upon yourself.
She shakes her head.
Danni: Stop that.
If being a champion was supposed to be easy, then even Alicia Hixx would have a belt around her waist. But we know better, Ruby. We know that being a champion isn’t easy, and yet we still come after you... why? Because for all of the drama that comes with being a champion, that belt you carry with you puts you up there with some of the best that this company has to offer. But it’s not a belt that makes a champion; it’s the champion that makes the belt. And Ruby, every person that comes after that title wants to add their own bit of history to the legacy you’ve already started. Granted, if I have anything to say about it, the next person to have that chance will be me.
Austen, don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t think you deserve a shot at the championship as well. It’s just that I hate triple threat matches for the same reason anyone that’s ever held a championship hates them. You see, it works both for us, and against us at the same time. Gone is the champion’s advantage of having to be actually pinned to lose the title. On the other hand, should I pin Austen, yeah, I’ll still win the title, but from the very get-go, people that have been shitting on my career since I signed with West Coast Genesis will be throwing even more shade, talking about how I “didn’t pin the champion” to win the title. And yeah, Austen... I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the possibility of you pinning me. I just have to make sure that doesn’t happen. I know you know it’s nothing personal; I just have to make sure that not only do I not get pinned, I have to make sure when the three count is called, that I’m the one doing the pinning.
She arches her eyebrow as she flashes a smug grin.
Danni: This match combines two things I can’t stand, but because of how this business is, I’ve got no choice but to accept. First, triple threats. Secondly? Once again, I find myself facing off against my friends. And there’s only so many times I can stress how much it doesn’t matter who I face before I start sounding like a broken record, so I’m not going to do it this time. But I will echo Austen’s sentiment. All three of us will walk into this match as friends. And when that bell rings after the three of us are finished blowing the roof off of the Oceanview Pavilion, we will walk out the same way.
I just plan on making sure that I do so... FINALLY... as a champion! It’s time for me to bring the South Bay Championship HOME!
She walks back to the table, carefully putting the championship belt back in the case. After closing it, she pulls her smartphone out of her pocket and proceeds to make a phone call.
Danni: Hey... I need to arrange for a pick-up; I’ll text you the address...
She sits down on the sofa, still holding the phone as the scene slowly fades out.