RyanD
05-29-2008, 01:01 AM
[[ Memorial Day 2008. 9:34 am Swillburg Athletic Performance. ]]
[[ Christopher Barton stands in training facility that has become his home-away-from-home. Between every big match, whenever he has time off, he travels from his home base in the suburbs of Baltimore back to Rochester, to keep up with his training.
Why doesn't Barton find a gym closer to home?
They don't have anything close to SAP anywhere else in the world.
For those unaware, Swillburg Athletic Performance was the first gym in Rochester to have sport-specific trainers on staff around the clock. On any given day you could see top division one collegiate athletes from around the world working with acclaimed technique coach James McFee. Across the way, you could see any number of boxers, mixed-martial artists, and wrestlers sparring, watching tapes, lifting or running.
They catered to all comers, and if they couldn't find anyone on staff to help you craft your ideal training regimen, they'd hire one. They took pride in that kind of stuff, and their list of successful "Alumni" reached into every popular sport. Alumni tended to be very active in re-paying SAP for the work they put in to ensuring their success, and SAP never seemed to have a problem finding all kinds of money to spend on everything but making the place look nice.
Word on the street is they even may have had a hand in getting Barton to Iraq. They certainly were responsible for a few mysterious occurences around the WWA and NWA in the last weeks, mostly just strange looking characters discreetly filming matches and taking lots of weird notes at some recent live events.
SAP turned out to be perfect for Christopher. Barton had a hard time finding a gym that could utilize his... unique gifts. Barton wasn't a particularly athletic guy, or a smart one, but he had a knack for certain things.
So here he was, mid-yawn, ready for his morning conditioning session. He wore his usual cardio suit: Adidas jogging pants and a white underarmor shirt, underneath the new black and green Christopher Barton "I Will Bear You" shirt
(available in both men's and women's sizes from oldlinewrestling.com's online shop now).
As he began some light stretching, his conditioning coach walked in from the locker room. Steven "Rocketman" Coles was a Rochester legend. Four-time cruiserweight champion, three-time tag team champion, Rocketman did it all in his relatively short 6 year career. He was looking at wrestling for a whole hellova lot longer, but after his seventh concussion, doctors told him he had to slow down, or end up braindamaged. That's when he was introduced to Swillburg Athletic Performance.
Rocketman was a thin man, cut, but not overly so. He had thinning ginger hair, cut short, in almost an admission that the end was near for his poor, beleaguered hairline.]]
Steven : Morning, sunshine. I take it all this travel hasn't worn you out?
Barton : Steve! Nah, man, I'm just trying to plan out the next few weeks or so.
[[ Steven pulls out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. Unfolding it, he studies it for a second before folding it and putting it back.]]
Steven : Shit man, Domingo AND Danny Vicious again? How many times do you have to beat those guys?
Barton : Eh, well, at least I'm facing big dogs. None of those talentless fucks they used to book me against night after night here.
Steven : Yeah, I suppose you never really got a fair shake here. It's too bad, you're starting to make quite a name for yourself on the east coast.
Barton : Shit, that reminds me, have you talked to Johnny?
[[ Barton was referring, of course, to new WC:C Superstar Johnny Lightning, SAP member, friend of Barton's and a hell of a cruiserweight.]]
Steven : Meh, kid hasn't called me back since last week. He's got a big match coming up too. Think he's having a hard time adjusting to life away from Rochester.
Barton : Yeah, he always actually liked this hellhole.
[[ Both men laugh. ]]
Steven : So, I take it you're leaving for the NWA card tonight?
Barton : Yeah, gotta be showered and out of here by like 7:30 to catch my flight.
Steven : What do you know of your opponents?
Barton : Not a lot. I know there's some Jaye Doyle character, who has taken a liking, so it seems, to Noah Hanson...
Steven : Ugh, good taste that one has, I see.
Barton : Yeah, well, at least the guy has some respect. There's also that A-List kid.
Steven : Yeah, I don't have much on him, only goes back a few months.
Barton : That makes sense, although, if you listened to the kid you'd think he's been wrestling since the olden-days.
Steven : Well, no matter, it seems next Outrage is the one you really need to worry about anyways.
Barton : Well, I'm gonna need to see whatever tapes you dragged out for the NWA guys too. Good thing you guys spend to much money on your R+D, haha.
Steven : Well, we like to make sure our talent is prepared, you know.
Alright, we'll do a quick hour of cardio, some light sparring and then hit the tape room.. we should cover Outrage too, unless you're planning on flying back after the NWA card.
Barton : Nah, I don't figure I have time for that, got some shit to do in Baltimore. Let me guess, you're going to make me watch Python vs. Vicious another 20 times?
Steven : Well, you'll watch it until you figure out what you need to exploit.
Barton : [Sighing.] Fair enough.. alright, what first?
Steven : Head over to the elevated track, you need to get a few miles in today.
[[ Dammit. Of all the things Christopher Barton hated, the elevated track was probably the thing he hated most of all.]]
* * *
[[ Memorial Day 2008. 7:32 pm. Rochester Intl' Airport. ]]
[[ Barton stands, with his luggage in tow, at the United Airlines check in counter. He is wearing street clothes, jeans, black shoes and a black generic WWA T-shirt. He is talking to a frazzled United Airlines employee.]]
Barton : So, what you're saying is that I have to wait in this goddamn airport for three hours?
Clerk : I'm afraid so, Mr. Barton.
Barton : Are you kidding me?
Clerk : I'm afraid not, sir. There are plenty of places inside the airport to sit, there is complimentary wifi, and, since your an elite pass customer, I can give you access to our President's lounge with complimentary beverage service.
Barton : ... Complimentary as in free?
Clerk : Yes, sir.
Barton : Beverages as in booze?
Clerk : Yes, sir. Drink menus are limited, as it is a holiday, but I assure you that you will fi--
[[ Barton has always wheeled away from the counter, making a bee-line for security. Chris just couldn't turn down an offer as tempting as free drinks.]]
[[ Christopher Barton stands in training facility that has become his home-away-from-home. Between every big match, whenever he has time off, he travels from his home base in the suburbs of Baltimore back to Rochester, to keep up with his training.
Why doesn't Barton find a gym closer to home?
They don't have anything close to SAP anywhere else in the world.
For those unaware, Swillburg Athletic Performance was the first gym in Rochester to have sport-specific trainers on staff around the clock. On any given day you could see top division one collegiate athletes from around the world working with acclaimed technique coach James McFee. Across the way, you could see any number of boxers, mixed-martial artists, and wrestlers sparring, watching tapes, lifting or running.
They catered to all comers, and if they couldn't find anyone on staff to help you craft your ideal training regimen, they'd hire one. They took pride in that kind of stuff, and their list of successful "Alumni" reached into every popular sport. Alumni tended to be very active in re-paying SAP for the work they put in to ensuring their success, and SAP never seemed to have a problem finding all kinds of money to spend on everything but making the place look nice.
Word on the street is they even may have had a hand in getting Barton to Iraq. They certainly were responsible for a few mysterious occurences around the WWA and NWA in the last weeks, mostly just strange looking characters discreetly filming matches and taking lots of weird notes at some recent live events.
SAP turned out to be perfect for Christopher. Barton had a hard time finding a gym that could utilize his... unique gifts. Barton wasn't a particularly athletic guy, or a smart one, but he had a knack for certain things.
So here he was, mid-yawn, ready for his morning conditioning session. He wore his usual cardio suit: Adidas jogging pants and a white underarmor shirt, underneath the new black and green Christopher Barton "I Will Bear You" shirt
(available in both men's and women's sizes from oldlinewrestling.com's online shop now).
As he began some light stretching, his conditioning coach walked in from the locker room. Steven "Rocketman" Coles was a Rochester legend. Four-time cruiserweight champion, three-time tag team champion, Rocketman did it all in his relatively short 6 year career. He was looking at wrestling for a whole hellova lot longer, but after his seventh concussion, doctors told him he had to slow down, or end up braindamaged. That's when he was introduced to Swillburg Athletic Performance.
Rocketman was a thin man, cut, but not overly so. He had thinning ginger hair, cut short, in almost an admission that the end was near for his poor, beleaguered hairline.]]
Steven : Morning, sunshine. I take it all this travel hasn't worn you out?
Barton : Steve! Nah, man, I'm just trying to plan out the next few weeks or so.
[[ Steven pulls out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. Unfolding it, he studies it for a second before folding it and putting it back.]]
Steven : Shit man, Domingo AND Danny Vicious again? How many times do you have to beat those guys?
Barton : Eh, well, at least I'm facing big dogs. None of those talentless fucks they used to book me against night after night here.
Steven : Yeah, I suppose you never really got a fair shake here. It's too bad, you're starting to make quite a name for yourself on the east coast.
Barton : Shit, that reminds me, have you talked to Johnny?
[[ Barton was referring, of course, to new WC:C Superstar Johnny Lightning, SAP member, friend of Barton's and a hell of a cruiserweight.]]
Steven : Meh, kid hasn't called me back since last week. He's got a big match coming up too. Think he's having a hard time adjusting to life away from Rochester.
Barton : Yeah, he always actually liked this hellhole.
[[ Both men laugh. ]]
Steven : So, I take it you're leaving for the NWA card tonight?
Barton : Yeah, gotta be showered and out of here by like 7:30 to catch my flight.
Steven : What do you know of your opponents?
Barton : Not a lot. I know there's some Jaye Doyle character, who has taken a liking, so it seems, to Noah Hanson...
Steven : Ugh, good taste that one has, I see.
Barton : Yeah, well, at least the guy has some respect. There's also that A-List kid.
Steven : Yeah, I don't have much on him, only goes back a few months.
Barton : That makes sense, although, if you listened to the kid you'd think he's been wrestling since the olden-days.
Steven : Well, no matter, it seems next Outrage is the one you really need to worry about anyways.
Barton : Well, I'm gonna need to see whatever tapes you dragged out for the NWA guys too. Good thing you guys spend to much money on your R+D, haha.
Steven : Well, we like to make sure our talent is prepared, you know.
Alright, we'll do a quick hour of cardio, some light sparring and then hit the tape room.. we should cover Outrage too, unless you're planning on flying back after the NWA card.
Barton : Nah, I don't figure I have time for that, got some shit to do in Baltimore. Let me guess, you're going to make me watch Python vs. Vicious another 20 times?
Steven : Well, you'll watch it until you figure out what you need to exploit.
Barton : [Sighing.] Fair enough.. alright, what first?
Steven : Head over to the elevated track, you need to get a few miles in today.
[[ Dammit. Of all the things Christopher Barton hated, the elevated track was probably the thing he hated most of all.]]
* * *
[[ Memorial Day 2008. 7:32 pm. Rochester Intl' Airport. ]]
[[ Barton stands, with his luggage in tow, at the United Airlines check in counter. He is wearing street clothes, jeans, black shoes and a black generic WWA T-shirt. He is talking to a frazzled United Airlines employee.]]
Barton : So, what you're saying is that I have to wait in this goddamn airport for three hours?
Clerk : I'm afraid so, Mr. Barton.
Barton : Are you kidding me?
Clerk : I'm afraid not, sir. There are plenty of places inside the airport to sit, there is complimentary wifi, and, since your an elite pass customer, I can give you access to our President's lounge with complimentary beverage service.
Barton : ... Complimentary as in free?
Clerk : Yes, sir.
Barton : Beverages as in booze?
Clerk : Yes, sir. Drink menus are limited, as it is a holiday, but I assure you that you will fi--
[[ Barton has always wheeled away from the counter, making a bee-line for security. Chris just couldn't turn down an offer as tempting as free drinks.]]