My Perspective On OBLIVION!

The following column was written by the 2008 Ontario Wrestler Of The Year, "Dangerboy" Derek Wylde, about his experience in the main event at OBLIVION! on January 9th.

I get asked a lot about what its like to be a Pro Wrestler. I try to explain but its not exactly something that can be told in a few sentences. I've been meaning to write this for awhile now and since I'm "retired", I guess now is as good a time as any. Allow me to walk you, hand in hand, through a wrestling match.

Now, I wouldn't give you the guided tour on just any old match. No, I'm going to take you on a field trip in pain. An excursion that will let you in on what its like to stand face to face in the ring and look Tyson Dux in the eyes.

That's right, while its still fresh in my head, I'm going to let you be my shadow and follow me into the ring last Friday night at OBLIVION!

Before I get into the match itself, I just wanna say that my match jumped up on me to quickly that night. Before I realized it, my entrance music was playing and it was time to go.

My Entrance to the ring was a blur. I blink and before I knew what hit me, I was standing in the ring, staring the devil in the eyes. I will state for the record that I love Tyson Moody, the man. I hate Tyson Dux the wrestler. He's my arch rival. My opposite. There is something about the way he looks at you from across that ring. Hes not looking at you, hes looking through you. We have been friends forever but I will NEVER get used to the way my blood turns cold and my guts freeze when he stares at me. There is something very scary about a man with that much ability.

The bell rings and there is no shaking hands. No time for that now. This is all business. Respect doesn't come from a handshake. Respect is earned by getting knocked down a hundred times and getting right back up. We both take this match seriously, that's all the respect we need.

We circle each other. I can tell hes trying to read me. I'm doing the same. I realize really fast that this isn't going to be easy. He doesn't give me a sign, there is no "tell" for what hes got planned. We lock up, hard. We go nowhere and repeat...same outcome.

We lock up again and already I'm tired of this. I shoot the waist only to be stopped halfway. WTF?! How the hell did he stop me halfway and hes still on his feet? This is an exercise in frustration. If I break it off, he's too close and will be all over me. If I press on, I'm not good enough to get what I want. I'm stuck already.

Btw, for the few people out there that still think wrestling is "fake" and that I'm adding drama for effect right now, understand this: When Tyson and I wrestle, it is as real as anything on this earth. One wrong move, one second of doubt or letting my guard down and Tyson will eat me alive on that mat! Friend or no friend, that man will stretch the life out of you if you give him the chance.

I know I can never win this part of the match, I just work hard and pray that I will survive. Speaking of, my prayers to the wrestling Gods go unheard when I realize Tyson has me face down on the mat, eating canvas. My only chance is to get to the ropes for a clean break.This cruel game goes on for what seems like forever.

It all comes to an abrupt halt when I push myself out of a headlock only to be rewarded for my efforts with a huge tackle that sends me crashing to the canvas. I scramble back to the corner only to be followed in by Tyson and hammered with hard chops. The match goes back and forth like this for the next five minutes or so.The tide turns in Tyson's favor and almost ends the match instantly when I quickly dump Tyson over the ropes to the floor.

I catch him off guard and as I hurl myself over the top rope with a dive that sends both of us crashing to the concrete floor. Its about time I set up for my patented seated dropkick. For those of you who don't know, I steal a chair from ringside and sit my stunned opponent in it. I back up, run and dropkick him in the chest, hard, and send him flying backwards over the chair.

It wasn't meant to be on this night...

As I'm running, at the last second Tyson stands up and launches me into the air with a back body drop. He rockets me straight over his head...now, lets stop time for a second or two. At the peak of my flight, I look down to see the folding chair directly below me. What happened next is not really known to me, I would have to see the footage to give you an accurate description. All I can tell you is my point of view. Ok, frozen in time, 8 feet in the air. I do what I think any person in my situation would do...I panic.

I reach out and try to save myself but my right arm slides between the back rest and the seat. Not good. I turn myself in mid air so now my back is facing the ground. The weight of my body slams hard on top of the opened chair and forces it to slam shut, on my trapped arm. I'm gonna feel that tomorrow.

What happens next is a first hand account of pain. Pure, raw, unbiased pain. As I land, I take the full impact of the fall on the right side of my lower back. Right away, I knew something was wrong.

Really wrong.

I feel the right side of my back and leg catch fire. I mean that. I really, at that moment in time remember thinking, "why did someone light me on fire?" My back and leg burned. I mean burned white hot!

I turn to look at the fire that is consuming my right side only to find nothing. No fire. My natural reaction is to touch my leg to put out this invisible fire but touching it only makes it worse. My hand presses down and I feel the sun explode on my body.

My head goes light.

I remember thinking, "not now, not tonight!"

Then I hear the voice.

The only voice that could make me move. The only voice I want to hear right now. "C'mon Denny, you gotta get up..." Btw, Tyson Dux is the only person who can get away with calling me Denny, he's earned that. He's earning it right now.

Tyson picks up my half dead, burning body and tries to roll me into the ring. I step with my right foot and a second wave of white hot fury blazes up my body.

I want to sleep.

I want to give up.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs that this is more real then I ever wanted.

I hear the voice again..."You gotta do this Denny or I'm taking it home..."

Bullshit.

I've trained too hard for this. Too many days in the gym. Too many flights of stairs ran. Too much work to be hurt now. I'd have to be dead to call it quits. I do what any of the boys in my situation would do...I suck it up. I stop feeling sorry for myself. I push forward. I don't look back.

The next twenty minutes is a lesson in pain and guts I'll never forget. Every motion, every movement send fire ripping through my body. I get used to it...hell, I almost like it.

I hit Tyson with everything I got, literally. Right now, at this moment Tyson is a machine, unstoppable.

During our back and forth in the final minutes, Tyson hits me with the mother of all brain busters and the force of the impact sends both my knees straight into my face. My knees hit so hard that my teeth go right through my knee pad and sink into my knee, cutting the left one wide open. The other knee smashes my face and I pop up only to place my hands on a row of loose teeth. My mouth fills with blood but that's the least of my worries now.

As the end nears, I hit Tyson with the hardest clothesline I've ever delivered in my life.

I unleash every ounce of strength I have left in my broken body and slam my arm across his chest. As my forearm comes crashing down upon his chest, I feel the bones in my arm bend. What follows is a crack of thunder and my bicep stretches and tries to break free of the tendon.

I look down and I'm surprised to see my arm is still there. Still there and still working. The force of the move turns Tyson inside out and he lies on the mat, legs over his head.

I make the cover and the ref counts three.

It's over.

I've never been so happy and sad at the same time to see the end of a match. Happy because my body can rest but sad because the battle is over.

Yes, I loved it. After all that, I loved it all.

I sit, collapsed against the ropes and look at Tyson, sitting the same on the other side of the ring. A slow, sly smile spreads across his face. I know what that means. Even though my body makes me a thousand promises of pain to come, I know in my heart, we will meet again...

Can't wait.

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