Post by Duce Jones on Oct 2, 2019 0:17:00 GMT -6
October 1, 2019
Munich, Germany
Munich, Germany
“Duce! Duce!”
Bright lights… that’s all I could see as i opened my eyes. An awkward murmuring was flowing through the vicinity as i tried to make sense of what had just happened.
“Cough! Cough! COUGH!”
Fuck, my throat hurts..
You just went out like a straight bitch..
Fuck you!
“COUGH!”
My throat was sore from just having fingers jammed almost to my esophagus.. In the two years that I’ve been competing, I had never experienced as much pain as I did. The pain was so intense that water began to well up in my eyes. I could make out the sound of Freddie’s voice as he checked on my well being. However, I couldn't respond because of how swollen my throat had become. Medics surrounded me, trying to get my breathing under control. All I wanted to know is how I ended up in this predicament. For the first time in my career I was rendered completely unconscious.
It’s a feeling that I couldn’t get jiggy with.. Lying on the mat as doctors checked on me, making sure that I’m able to stand up on my own power.
I’m able to with the help of Freddie and a medic. The response for my well being from the German fans was less than warm. I guess they didn’t take to kindly to me defeating their hometown hero last week.. Oh well.. Shit happens..
“Are you gonna be alright?” Freddie questioned as he helped me step through the ropes and down to the floor.
I wanted to answer him but I was unable to due to how raw and on fire my throat was, so a simple head nod was the only response that he got as we made our way to the back.
You underestimated him, that’s how we ended up in this situation.
Fuck that.. Ain’t nobody underestimate shit!
Then explain how we’re being helped to the back right now.
Don’t worry about all of that.. We’ll get that handled soon enough.
We finally made our way through the curtains where I'm immediately checked on by extra medical personnel. My coughing had become violent as blood began to spurt from my mouth.
"Let's get him to a hospital!"
That was the last thing I heard before losing consciousness.
"I don't feel like dealing with shit today.
If ya got an issue with me, I don't feel like hearing that shit today.
I'm only here for the money, I won't let none of you get in the way.
Cause I gotta get it and divvy it up, so everyone gets a plate..
I earned everything but a break."
-Don Trip
If ya got an issue with me, I don't feel like hearing that shit today.
I'm only here for the money, I won't let none of you get in the way.
Cause I gotta get it and divvy it up, so everyone gets a plate..
I earned everything but a break."
-Don Trip
October 2, 2019
Atlanta, Georgia
Atlanta, Georgia
Don Trip’s words felt like a lullaby to my ears as it pumped through the speakers of my rental, a royal blue 2018 Ford Fusion. It felt like the theme of my life at the moment. I mean after having another grown man shoved his fingers down your throat, you'd probably be in a sour mood also. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that it had happened. It was like night by night.. match by match I was letting my guard down.
First, there was MJ.. I still hadn't fully recovered from that defeat but the world doesn't stop spinning because of defeat. Then… there was….
Dylan Thomas…
The man who basically fucked me out of becoming the inaugural GCWA North American Champion. I at least thought he would buy me dinner first before he just rammed it up my ass like that… hmph… I despise ungentlemanly activities. Then he brags.. like he honestly beat me with his best inside of that ring.. the audacity of this guy. But if he thought that the outcome would be the same come Homecoming… he was sadly mistaken.
I took the exit that led to Birmingham, Alabama.. the halfway point between Atlanta and Memphis. I hadn't eaten a decent meal since my match with Judge Jeff Jackson, where he almost destroyed my windpipe.. so after almost eighteen hours, my stomach was touching my back.
In other words, we were hungry as fuck!
Indeed…
Haha.. The thought of food sounded like the best idea that I had ever came up with, the doctors had advised me to go on a liquid diet for a few days before I tried for anything solid. But what human being on this Earth, gets their stomach filled with just liquid?
They're gonna be back and forth to the bathroom, pissing like a Russian racehorse with a glue truck behind him!
What does that even mean?
I don't know but it was funny when Money Mike said it..
You mean Katt Williams?
Naw he means Apimpnamedslickback..
A Pimp, Named... Slick Back?
Ugh…
It's one word, you idiot!
This is not about to go down.. we're trying to find something to put in our body before we end up passing out and smacking a light pole.
I look around and spot a Bar & Grill, there's usually, decent food in one of those kinds of joints. I pull into the parking lot and notice that the place is a bit more 'fancy' for what I'm used too. I still shift the gear into park and stare at the entrance.
You’re seriously not about to go in there right? This is nowhere like none of the spots that we usually go to..
Calm down, It’s only the outside appearance, maybe if we go inside, it will be like any other Bar & Grill that we’ve been to before.
I take a deep breathe and exit the car, looking up at the sign that reads, ‘HIGHLANDS’. I walk up to the door under the umbrella top, I glance up at it because I never learned the exact name for what it was called. I shrug my shoulders though because by this point in my life, it doesn’t matter. Opening the door, I step across the threshold into one of the most elegant Bar & Grills that I had ever seen before. I mean, I totally had the wrong idea about Birmingham..
This is probably one of the nicer parts of Birmingham..
Either way, I instantly felt uncomfortable from the awkward stares of the patrons and staff aimed my way as the door closed behind me. The sounds of Sports Center played in the background as I took a once over of the bar and immediately pivoted out of the place. I don't know if you guys have ever had a feeling that you weren’t welcomed somewhere, it was almost as if automatically, you knew that a place wasn’t your type of environment?
Well that was the kind of vibe that I was getting from that place. It just seemed to nice to be a Bar & Grill.. It was too clean.. It didn’t have that gritty feel that I was used too, besides I had enough of being in Victorian type establishment, especially sense I had more than enough of that with my visit to European continent.
I had entered back into the Ford Fusion, cranked it up and listened on as “No Rearview” by Starlito, Don Trip and Yo Gotti began to play through the speakers. The song was another fitting one for the story of my life because it was time to put the past in my rearview, especially this place.. It had too much of that Dylan Thomas feel.. You know, stuck up, with his nose up his own ass, pompous and sidity. It stunk with arrogance as Dylan’s face instantly appeared on every single body inside of that building. My appetite was ruined immediately and the three hour drive to Memphis seemed like the best decision for me at the moment.
Yeah, we can’t randomly jump on people for saying slick shit.. Guaranteed we’d get thrown in jail!
Hell yeah… Shifting the car in reverse and then backing out, I shift back into drive and make my way to Memphis. I would much rather eat Sierra’s cooking anyway, two weeks of German cuisine hadn’t done my body any justice as I was unable to stomach any of the shit.
October 2, 2019
Memphis, Tennessee
Six Hours Later
Memphis, Tennessee
Six Hours Later
Finally home..
One thing about this business, well at least on my end, I don’t get the opportunity to be around my family much. Every week, I’m out on the road, trying to provide for my family. It’s what I seen my father do, so It was the only way in my eyes. Night after night on the roads, making the money and sending it home to the family. Sierra had been semi-understanding about everything, she understood that in my line of work, that I would be gone for weeks, hell maybe months at a time. But when I’m away from them, it’s a longing feeling in the pit of my soul. my mind about abandoning them in a way but working, some nine to five, just wasn’t the thing for me.
Moments of regret crept through my mind about abandoning them but I was always taught to get out and provide for your family and that’s exactly what I was going to do. Just three months ago, I became a father for the first time and I haven’t so much as spent a week in their life. But they are the reason I go out every night and fight like there’s no tomorrow.. Because in my eyes, there wasn’t and after damn near having my tonsils forcefully removed, it kind of put shit into a new light for me.
Whenever I was home, I used the rooftop as my getaway.. my place of solitude if you will.. It was where I went if I ever needed to clear my head and seeing as how I had one of the biggest matches of my career coming up this Friday, I needed to get my head into the game. With my handheld camera in my hand, I power it on and began to record, focusing on the serene atmosphere of the middle class neighborhood. I still hadn’t been to sleep since my flight, due to the time difference between the continents but it was the crack of dawn as the sun slowly rose to the east, casting a beautiful glow over the clouds.
With a fifth of E&J liquor in my left hand while I hold the camera with my right, I take a swig, then sit the bottle between my legs and begin to give my thoughts on my upcoming match at Homecoming.
"Dat shit pretty as fuck, huh?" I questioned with a whisper to the camera as I point it towards the rising sun. "Tha risin'a tha sun means dat it's a new day.. Ya leave tha past in tha past an' move forward..
I clear my throat, trying to ease some of the pain. However the burning sensation of the amber collected liquid, made it a worthwhile pain. I sit the bottle down and continue on in a whisper.
"Octoba' 6th.. GCWA christens it's brand new arena in Dallas wit a night fulla action.. There's one match dat all'a tha folks at home an' tha ones in attendance need t'be payin' attention to..
I gently massage my throat with my free hand, soon followed by another sip of the bottle. I laugh because Lissandra's words popped into my mind. 'And maybe then Duce… you can stop moaning to everyone with ears how you were screwed out of the win.'
"Y'kno' somethin' Dylan.. I want ya ta hold on tight ta dat strap.. I clear my throat. "See ya might thank ya doin that less fortunate, a favor by givin' me anotha shot at dat Nawf American title.. I shake my head in denial. "Naw… you ain't do shit but sign ya own death certificate. What yo' smug ass fail ta realize is dat none'a those tricks will matta' once dat bell rangs an’ I'm free to maim dat pretty face…”
