Son of a Sailor

Davey-Boy O’Brien took a seat on his motel mattress, still in the clothes he had been traveling in all day. O’Brien always traveled well-dressed. After all, you never knew who you might run into on the streets or at the airport. The youngster had actually found most of his clothes at a collection of thrift shops though. A deep breath escaped his lungs. Davey-Boy was actually doing it, and now it had finally settled into his head. He had been a professional wrestler for a few months now, but he was truly out on his own now. Davey tossed his duffel bag upon the bed then unzipped one of the side pockets. His hand plunged into the pocket, and reemerged instantly with a single photograph. Davey regarded the picture with an almost bittersweet happiness. His eyes shone with the longing to be able to transport himself back to perhaps another time.

The picture was of a stocky, blond gentleman approximately in his thirties or fourties. He had a pair of fisherman waders on, an a-shirt, and an old, beaten-up scally cap slightly tilted on his head. The stocky man wasn’t alone. His arm was over the shoulders of a blond kid of about eleven years old with the biggest smile on his face. Davey remembered that day like it was yesterday. That had been the day after his Da had returned from one of those long fishing excursions. Each time he had to leave it was a tear-jerking, emotional occasion. But, when he returned, there was a completely different emotion, and the tears were for another reason.

Often times, Davey and his Da would venture out into the open water with his Da’s fishing vessel and catch a wide array of fish. When they would return home with them, they would make any assortment of delicious fish dishes including Davey-Boy’s favorite, fish and chips. There wasn’t anyone on the planet who could batter and fry up a filet of fish like Davey’s Da.

This picture wasn’t just happy memories though. Davey-Boy didn’t have any overly tragic history, but when a child loses his father to the sea at 13, it affects him the rest of his natural life. Davey-Boy wanted his father look down proudly on him. His Da wanted better for him just like any good father. Davey fought the tears that threatened to flow from his eyes. It had only been about 5 years since his father had been taken by Poseidon.

Some people shut down when someone so important in their life passes away. Davey-Boy O’Brien reacted in a different way though. Davey’s maturity level was beyond his age somehow. He immediately realized as a 13-year-old, he needed to become the man of the house. That was when he took all of those lessons from Baz Jones and put them to good use at a local carnival in John O’Groats. Davey-Boy O’Brien became a carny wrestler at 13, and he never looked back.

Like clockwork, the owner of the carnival would pay O’Brien his share and he would bring it back to his Mum. At first, she tried to say no, but Davey was determined so he started slipping the money in her purse. Eventually, she just stopped fighting him on it. When she saw how determined Davey-Boy was to become a professional wrestler, his Mum went out of her way to find him the best trainer possible. What she didn’t realize is that she had found quite possibly the best trainer ever, a man simply known as Keegan.

Within a few years, Davey-Boy would find himself being signed by UKWF and Premier Grappling Club. While he was able to stay local to help his Mum, Davey remained undefeated in both organizations. Seeing her son so happy about his blossoming wrestling career only served to strengthen his urge to wrestle some of the greatest names in the industry. Pretty soon a company based out of the United States called his name. Now, one win later, here he was in the thick of UOW’s action. Davey-Boy O’Brien was already making a difference backstage by unioning up with his fellow wrestlers. Hard work should be rewarded, and the roster wasn’t asking anything of Mr. Mudcock that he couldn’t provide.

Davey looked up from the picture, realizing he had a match for which he needed to prepare. He wasn’t concerned with the size difference between himself and Jeremiah Vastrix. Truth is, he had been dwarfed by most of his opponents since he was 13. This was no different from then. Davey-Boy would just go out there and work his arse off. Wins and losses didn’t matter. What mattered was that the crowd loved him and that his parents were proud.