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Post by ✖ AJ on Jul 22, 2014 11:20:54 GMT -5
I'm fifty years old. Lyle Holliver, the former prodigy of professional wrestling, has made it to twice the age anyone had anticipated.
Including myself. I awoke this morning and decided it is finally time... finally time to reveal it all to the world. Reveal everything about my entire career.
I'm better known as Corey Holland. I'm that guy nobody cared to know at first, but the guy nobody forgot in the end.
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Post by ✖ AJ on Jul 22, 2014 11:23:05 GMT -5
| Birth Name | Lyle Charles Holliver | | Ring Name(s) | Corey Holland
L.C. Holliver
Chris Holliver
Blanco Guerrero | | Birth Date | April 9, 1992 (Age 50) | | Billed Height | 6 Foot 4 | | Billed Weight | 235 Pounds | | Resides In | Dallas, Texas | | Billed From | Dallas, Texas
Over the Border | | Debut | 2010 | | Retired | 2017 |
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Post by ✖ AJ on Jul 22, 2014 11:30:44 GMT -5
ENTRY DATE: APRIL 9, 2042 — TUESDAY, APRIL 13, 2010
"First of all, don't be expecting any f—ing short cuts to the big leagues. You may have what it takes but I'm telling you right f—ing now it is going to take every single drip of blood, every single drop of sweat and every single breath!" I watched as Rick Jardine, the owner and main instructor of the 'Dallas Academy of Sports Entertainment' stood before us twelve new members of the academy. "Have you guys ever heard of Joc Wallace? Exactly! He walked in here three years ago and he thought he was going to be on the fast track to the WWE and you know where he was a week ago today? Flipping some God Damn f—ing burgers at Wendy's two blocks over!"
We all watched and listened as Rick (or Jars, as the other trainers called him) continued to express how difficult it was to make it in the wrestling business. Although I understood, I could see the guy next to me - Martin Adams - didn't. He would constantly scoff at the words from Rick and shake his head, often nudging me and mentioning that he was going to be the next big thing and not the next Joc Wallace.
I'd like to take a moment to note that nobody has ever heard of Martin Adams. I actually only remembered him because of a newspaper clipping in the obituary section about six years ago. He apparently died in a car accident and left behind two cats and an ex-wife that claimed he was an alcoholic and party-goer that cheated on her with transsexual women. Or, men? Whatever the hell they are. I digress.
After Rick made his speech, he had us split into six groups of two in order to get a chance to see what we have in the ring. No prior training or anything, just five minutes to figure out what we wanted to do. It sounded unprofessional and it probably was, but I was too fired up to care. I just turned eighteen and I was getting into an actual wrestling ring! I ended up paired with a guy named Randy Rogers and with his long blonde hair flowing, I was mesmerized quite a bit to be honest. Those golden locks were incredible! As he and I were planning things out for our match, we were interrupted by one of the secondary trainers - Alan Zunino - and he asked for our names. When I told him my name was Lyle Holliver, he just glared. "That isn't going to work, kid." He told me, while writing on his clipboard. I was a bit confused and he proceeded to ask me multiple questions: 'Whats your middle name?', 'Whats your mother's maiden name?', 'Who is your favorite wrestler of all time?', 'Did you ever see One Night in Chyna?' I was baffled at the last one and he chuckled at it before finally telling me that my ring name was going to be L.C. Holliver, not Lyle. "It sounds better and you get to keep your name. Sort of... Even if it does suck."
L.C. HOLLIVER VS RANDY ROGERS After sitting through the five other matches, it was time for myself versus Randy. We met in the middle of the ring and shook hands, Jars shouting from the outside that we only had - and I quote - 'five mother f—ing minutes' to do this. God, I cuss a lot but Jars was a mad man when it came to that. I gave Randy the first minute to dominate me with some shots in the corner of the ring and I took a suplex that was really rough. I felt the pain shoot through my back and got back to my feet, dropping him with a DDT. "You alright?" I asked. He muffled he was and Jars got onto the apron, holding things up by pausing his stopwatch in his hand.
"Are you kidding me? ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY F—KING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?" He threw his hands up and said he could have heard me from across the entire room asking if Randy was alright. I was confused and asked what the problem was, saying it was only a training match. "Only a training match? You think this is a joke, kid? You don't break character when it comes down to business! YOU UNDERSTAND?" He stared me down and I kept my head down low, embarrassed. He demanded I get out of the ring, saying he couldn't stand to see me any more. I obeyed the commands.
"It's over." I kept saying to myself in my head as I walked to the bathroom, putting my head down on the sink shaking my head repeatedly. Zunino walked in behind me and started to relieve himself in the urinal right next to me. No walls or barriers or anything, either, so I saw more than he probably would have liked. "Enjoying yourself?" He asked, to which I believed he was referring to the current situation. "Not that, kid. What are you, a faggot?" He laughed at the comment and pulled his pants up, flushing the toilet. He stared at me and leaned against the wall, explaining that this stuff is tough and so is Rick. He explained to me that I was going to need to be able to handle all the pushing and pulling if I wanted to get anywhere. "You come back on Thursday and we'll make sure things work out... I can see your passion." He left the room after patting me on the shoulder with his unwashed hands and although I was a bit of a germ freak back then, I was a bit too rattled to react.
Maybe professional wrestling wasn't for me.
But this is only the beginning of the story. So do you really think I gave up that quickly? |
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