by The Immolator
Exclusive to OnlineOnslaught.com

"Very, very good Pavlov, all your dogs have barked when you rang the bell. Your test was successful." — Triple H, to The Rock.

Welcome back to The Ring. My name is The Immolator, aka Calum Macbeth, and I like to hurt people. I am The Master of 1,007 Holds, The Next Next Big Thing, and Mr. Litany O’Catchphrases himself. Mostly cribbed from other sources. Plus, I sell like Snidely Whiplash.

Big ups again to the usual suspects. I hope Hawai’i is nice this time of year. Is it ever not nice? Maybe NWA Hawai’i is in my mid-term future. Hmmmm…

I mentioned last week how I think my wrestling sucks; that is, from a purely technical standpoint. I think I’ve made some strides in that area this past week. On Saturday, I was thrust into a match at the House of Pain against White Tiger. He’s a proponent of the Japanese-Mexican arts, shall we say. And damn good at it, too. So I wound up getting my rear end kicked internationally for about 10 minutes before he nailed me with a Tornado DDT for the win. For the most part, it went all right. It was, for me as a beginner, a complex story we were telling in the ring. It went way better than last week, at least. Yet there are still acres and acres of room for improvement before I think I am passable in front of a crowd of more than a few dozen forgiving fans.

Into the breech, Mr. Beefy Goodness himself, Vance Nevada.

Vance has wrestled for myriad independent companies across Canada over the last eight years or so. He’s a methodical heel, about 200 pounds on about a 5-foot-10 frame. Great promos, great selling. Aha! A template for Calum Macbeth, I dare say. Vance has also agreed to act as a trainer while he is here. He is a student of the game, having written two books on the history of professional wrestling in Western Canada. And he is a fine teacher.

This past week, I have managed to plow through another three lessons at the HoP. “Gorgeous” Michelle Starr was the trainer on Tuesday. It was just myself and the big new guy, David. So everything was kept very basic, which does not trouble me. I need to learn how to do well the few things I know how to do. This will help me vastly when it comes to not scraping the bowels of sucktitude. At some point, though, I have to elevate my game. I have to learn a few bigger moves and take some bigger bumps. I took the time Tuesday to learn the dreaded Vader Splash. Festus (the tackling dummy) felt my wrath, yea verily. I say, if it’s good enough for Terry “Terrance” Taylor circa 1989, it’s good enough for Calum Macbeth.

Vance trained on Wednesday and Thursday. Both days, again, the basics. Except this time, many of the “young veterans” of ECCW also showed up to train. People that have already graduated from the House of Pain, but are still hungry and looking to improve. Gorilla, The Raines Brothers, “Old School” Brian Sommers, Toga Boy and others, all present and either in the ring or observing closely.

Vance teaches the same way he wrestles – breaking things down, methodically, making sure the people are following what is happening. Tie-up… take an arm. Twist it. Twist it again. Pound on it. What’s the rush? Yell at the mark in the front row. Ah, my kind of heel. Don’t want to work the arm? Take a leg. Twist it. Or take the head. Twist that, too. Or work the back instead. Tie-up, go behind. Forearm to the back. Lay it in there, full-bore. What, too stiff? Who the hell is going to complain?

Ah… life is good. See, like Jesse always said, there’s nothing like a good ol’ thumb to the eye.

Immo sez… Peace.

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