Date: Mon, 7 Sep 2020 21:20:43 +0000 (UTC) From: Dave Ledge Subject: Dad and Tom: A Wrestling Story Dad and Tom, a Wrestling Story Can everybody contribute to Nifty, if you can? And I do answer all emails at mikedave01@yahoo. Com. This has not been published or shared anywhere ever before. It has three chapters and should have two more... "You're doing what?" I yelled at Dad. "I'm taking private pro wrestling lessons, Tom," he calmly answered. He repeated himself as I continued sputtering. "It's a lot of fun, good exercise, and gets me out of the house", he continued. "But you're 55 years old and a senior attorney!" I couldn't help but say. "Watch it", he said. "I'm not dead yet." "But pro wrestling?" I added. "Why not something more respectable like golf or gardening." I could see he was starting to lose his patience. "Tom, boring and even more boring and neither give me the exercise of pro wrestling." I continued to shake my head in wonderment. I figured my Dad would do something odd after my Mom died last year. But even in my wildest imagination had never thought he'd doing something this crazy! I could see by his face he was following my unspoken thoughts. "Tell you what, Tom", he said. "Why don't you come with me to my next lesson Saturday afternoon? I think you need to see what I'm talking about and a get a feeling for how much fun I'm having." After talking about it for a while, I finally agreed to meet him at the house of the guy who was teaching him wrestling on Saturday. I kept shaking my head during the week whenever I thought about my Dad. He'd always been a pretty conservative guy and really was a well-respected attorney in my town. This whole thing seemed really out of character for him. I started to wonder if there wasn't some kind of early Alzheimer thing going on here. I used my GPS to find a modest house out in the country, but not too far from the city where Dad and I both lived. I got out of my car and strolled around the yard, seeing the back yard was screened off by a pretty tall fence. Just as I was trying to decide whether to knock on the gate to the back yard or go to the front door and knock, I saw my Dad drive up in his Mercedes (yes, he is a successful lawyer, too). He got out and went directly to where I was and passed me without speaking and opened the gate without knocking. Well, yeah, he'd been here before. I merely followed him. There in the middle of a pretty small backyard was a full sized professional wrestling ring, a true "squared circle"! I must have gaped since Dad smiled and gave a small chuckle. He said, "I told you the truth about what I'm doing, Tom." He smiled at me again. He climbed up into the ring and started stretching. Pretty soon the back door opened and a slightly smallish man came out, walked across the yard, and climbed into the ring, too. He gave me a thorough lookover and finally nodded his head. What was that about, I wondered? Both my Dad and the other guy stretched for a bit and then they started to strip! They both stripped down to their underwear, both wearing briefs. Once again I just shook my head. After stretching they proceeded to practice bouncing off the ropes, falling on the canvas and then started to work on holds. I was now confused. My Dad really was learning how to be a professional wrestler. I mean, WTF? After about a half hour of work, the smaller guy turned to me and asked, "Are you Tom?" I nodded that I was. "I'm Patrick", he said. "You wanna see what your Dad can do?" I hesitantly nodded yes. He then turned to my Dad and talked to him for a few minutes. I waited. Eventually, Patrick nodded to me and rang an invisible bell. My Dad and Patrick then started to wrestle! They circled and then locked up. They dropped the hold and circled again. They locked up again. Patrick slipped the hold to get my Dad in a side headlock. My Dad's dark haired head was locked up on Patrick's hairless chest. Patrick worked it for a while, grinding my Dad's head into his chest. Soon, though, my Dad tired of getting worked over. He slipped his hands under Patrick's and started to reverse the hold. His bigger biceps (his what?) started to overpower Patrick. Patrick used leverage to force Dad back into the hold twice. But three times was the charm and Dad reversed the hold pulling Patrick's clean-shaven face into his hairy chest. Dad then used his height (he's just a bit shorter than me at 6'1) to control Patrick and force him to the mat. He kept working Patrick's face into his chest. Soon they were both sweaty and Patrick eventually slipped out of Dad's hold. He then pounced on Dad and worked on getting Dad's arms down and his legs stretched. Dad wasn't going to have that. He rolled over on top of Patrick and his bigger body started to grind down Patrick. He also started to buck up and slam down on Patrick's smaller body. Eventually Patrick resorted to the first dirty truck. He made a fist and stuck it up in the air so that Dad slammed his unprepared stomach on Patrick's hard fist. Dad groaned and rolled off of Patrick, seemingly stunned. Patrick took quick advantage and kept up the attack on Dad's gut. He slammed quick elbows on Dad's stomach in succession. The way Dad was moaning I thought the match was about over and was sort of glad Dad's punishment would stop although was sorry he lost that easily. (Where did that thought come from?) However, he surprised me. When Patrick went for what suddenly appeared one too many elbow smashes, Dad responded with his own dirty trick and lifted his knee into Patrick's unprepared gut. Patrick rolled off of Dad, clutching his stomach. Both he and Dad staggered to their feet and caught their breath on the ropes. Soon they circled each other again, looking for an advantage. Although part of me was still taken aback by my conservative, attorney, 55 year old Dad was nearly naked wrestling another nearly naked dude out in the open, another part of me was actually sort of proud to see him looking like a real stud taking on this clearly professional wrestler and giving him a real match. This time they locked up in a test of strength. Dad had the advantage with a stronger chest and bigger biceps (!) and his height. He soon had Patrick on his knees. Next dirty trick. Patrick head butted Dad in his already sore gut once, twice, and three times. Dad released the hold in pain. Patrick then grabbed Dad's legs and made him fall heavily to the mat. He grabbed Dad's legs and was clearly going for some kind of Boston Crab. Dad might have been in pain but knew what was going on. Before Patrick could secure control of both legs, he managed to get his right leg free and kicked Patrick hard in his unprotected gut. Patrick groaned and fell back. Dad managed to get to his feet quickly. He took Patrick's unsecured arm and whipped him into the ropes. Patrick bounced quickly off the ropes. Instead of going for another blow to the gut, Dad raised the smaller Patrick off the ground, used Patrick's momentum to lift him high in the air, dropped him heavily to the mat and then dropped his own bigger body onto Patrick, picked up Patrick's legs while still muscling down Patrick's chest with his bigger one and counted, "One, two, three"! The imaginary bell then rang. Despite myself, I jumped up and yelled my approval! Dad gave me a big smile. And then I was confused. What had I just witnessed? I had watched my lawyer Dad battle a smaller pro wrestler in pro wrestling and win a match? WTF, once again? I didn't know what I was feeling at that point. Patrick got up pretty quickly from the mat, seemingly not worse for the wear or the loss. "Your Dad's pretty good, Tom, I have to admit. He's really taking to wrestling like a duck to water. He is a really a good student. And yeah this match was scripted. We set it up just for you. But in the times we've wrestled without a script he now normally wins. I've been asking him to wrestle downtown in a small Independent federation I own here in the city. He's been thinking about it. He has finally decided that no one who knows him would connect the wrestler with the lawyer. And, yeah, we'll use some makeup and hair dye to make him look really different. Anyway, I think he'd have a lot of fans, especially as a tough guy. I mean, he's good looking, older, hairy, and a good wrestler. I'd love to match him up with some younger, hairless, and blondish guy who could give him a real match. I think the crowd down there would love that kind of match, especially if promoted and set up well in advance. He looked at me again, really hard. "Strip, Tom", was all he said. There was a note of command in his voice that made me obey. I'm not completely sure why I did, but I did obey him. Soon, I was down to my tighty-whiteys. Patrick had me come into the ring with him and Dad. I was incredibly self-conscious. Even though I was more than twenty-five years younger than Dad, I had spent the last five years working on my Ph.D. in philosophy at the local University. Not only had I not been in a gym in years, I hadn't seen a whole lot of sun either. When I looked at Dad and Patrick, who were both in great shape and sleek with sweat, I suddenly realized I "paled" quite literally in comparison. My dark blond hair and hairless body, courtesy of my Mom, made it even worse. Patrick came over and poked and pressed my body. I blushed to the roots of my hair. I had never been manhandled ever before. I felt like I was some kind of meat. Dad snickered. Damn it! I got angry then. Patrick saw it and nodded in approval. "Yeah", he said. "I think you'll do. You've got your Dad's genes as well as your Mom's." "I'll do what?" I said, still angry. "I think you're trainable. I think the bones are good and the rest of the body will come along." With that he punched me in my soft gut and made fun of my small biceps. "What are you talking about?" I asked. Your Dad has agreed to wrestle a big match with half of the proceeds going to our local hospital's cancer patient house on Father's Day. He's agreed to wrestle a set number of matches leading up to this big charity event to set up the big event, promote the event, and make it a huge deal. He's even agreed to dealing with the fact that this event might get out into his own circle. And since it's Father's Day, he'll wrestle someone who could be his son. Imagine how much more powerful this event would be if the guy who wrestles him is his real son!" WTF for the third time today! Patrick wanted me to wrestle my Dad in public on Father's Day next year! This was so not going to happen! My Dad might be crazy, but I was not! I could just imagine what a YouTube video of me wrestling in public would do to a possible career as a philosophy professor, too. I said as much out loud, too. Patrick heard my refusal. "Dude", he said. "Your Dad told me you're doing a philosophy degree. The ancient Greek philosophers wrestled. Why not follow their example and do this, too? You're going to be the "wrestling professor" if you do this and people learn about this. Your students will be in awe of you since you're putting the Greeks' practice into action. And administrators will be hesitant to do anything against you since they'll know you could take them on big time." Well, I didn't buy anything he said. But then my Dad upped the ante. He looked at me very seriously and a bit sadly. "I've never asked for a Father's Day present from you ever, Tom. Would you do this for me and for the charity? Your Mom died of cancer. This event would probably give more money to the charity I've set up in her honor than I even can." He continued to look very serious and quite sad. Oh fuckin' Hell. Could there be a bigger guilt trip if I said no? Against every ounce of my being I agreed to work with Patrick and wrestle my Dad in the big charity event on next year's Father's Day. I eventually realized that Patrick wasn't a sadist. It took a while. He was relentless. I had had sort of vague notions that some of the reality shows that showed that pro wrestling was the toughest and most athletic of entertainment shows might be right. However, he made me hurt to understand that. I worked out with him three times a week and was at the gym doing routines he recommended the other days. Every two weeks I got one day off. He also showed me videos of pro stars who died in the ring when they got moves wrong. That sobered me up big time. While this wasn't a real sport in some senses, this was like jumping over Snake Canyon in Idaho like Evil Knievel did. Get it wrong and you're dead. Patrick set me up with experienced wrestlers in my first matches in the arena downtown. He defoliated as much of me as I'd let him. He told me I'd lose my first three matches as the very young guy in brief white wrestling trunks. He had liked my tighty-whiteys, I guess. Although the young guy (and I look even younger than I am) always wears white I guess. Despite myself, wrestling in public was a rush. I mean, coming into a (small) arena to rock music, hearing the cheers and jeers, climbing up into a ring, and then stripping nearly naked to fight another nearly naked man! This was primal in a way I had never experienced before in my life! I lost the first match spectacularly. The second match was better. The third match was close. I finally won the fourth match. When I looked at myself in the mirror after the fourth match naked, just because, I didn't actually recognize myself. Yeah, I had on makeup, which changed my face to make me look even younger and even more boyish than I am and to make sure anyone I knew didn't recognize me. However it was my body that truly surprised me. Gone was the nerdy, somewhat flabby, and pale body I had had before starting to work with Patrick. Instead there was a really strong body with toned abs, a strong chest, big biceps, and strong legs looking back at me. Even my pale skin was golden from working outside with Patrick and my dirty blond hair now had real blond highlights, too. I even looked taller since I no longer slumped. I'm not sure how long I stared at myself. However, I was interrupted from my reverie when my opponent from my match swatted me on my naked ass with a towel after getting out of the shower. He jeered, "What's the matter, Tommy, see something you like?" I blushed big time and he laughed at me. All I could think of to say was, "Yeah, and what I like beat your ass tonight, too!" That made him laugh again, too. We joked for a while, naked, before getting dressed and leaving the dressing room. I was now totally relaxed being naked with men I realized. I was becoming a different person in personality as well as body. I was more confident and self-assured. Wow! Well, my Dad had done me a real favor, I now realized, in all that had transpired since that day months ago when I thought he had early Alzheimer's. Grin. I still had two matches to go before Father's Day and my showdown with Dad. Looking at the schedule Patrick had given me, I realized Dad had two more matches, too. I decided to watch those matches and scout him out and his tactics before our big battle. While I had figured I'd lose that match with him when I started learning how to wrestle, the feeling of winning my match tonight was incredible. I decided I was going to win the next two matches, period. And for the first time thought I might beat Dad, too. And wouldn't that be the ultimate rush of all? Yeah. I was going to beat Dad! Go Tommy, go Tommy, go Tommy, go!