“Last night I dreamt I was at my funeral again.” Ken says stoically to no one in particular. Sitting in the middle of the room, in one of the fifteen or so chairs placed nonchalantly in a shape vaguely resembling a circle. Unbeknownst to his friends, his family, his peers, Ken Davison has been going to a support group to try and manage his anxiety. The fact that he is going to be a father is weighing heavily on his heart. Given the fact that his first child would be twenty five years old, no one could blame him if they did know about these meetings. To Ken, it was a sign of weakness. It wasn’t so much that he was getting help. Rather, it was the fact that he felt he needed help. “I don’t know why. Ever since I found out my wife is pregnant, I’ve been scared. Living in fear.”

Ken doesn’t look around the room for a reaction. That’s not what this is about. This is his confessional. There is no Holy Spirit here to cleanse his mind of his own perceived transgressions. There were only people who were as damaged as he was, perhaps even moreso. These were his people.

“In my life, I’ve done unspeakable things in the name of love. At least, I thought it was love. Right now I have everything, literally everything, that I have ever wanted out of life and it’s made me realize that I’m scared that I will lose it. I’m scared that I don’t deserve it. My wife and I have been through so much, I know she loves me unconditionally. Yet I still think that I’m not good enough for her because of what I’ve done in the past.”

“What do you think that represents?” Greg, the counselor running the group, queries.

“That I’m going to die, obviously.”

Greg can only shake his head. He does, however, manage to stifle his laugh without anyone noticing. “Why would you think that?”

“Because God hates me and just wants to fuck me over,” Ken says slapping his hands audibly on his knees. “I don’t know. I just know that I can’t handle the thought of anything happening to my wife and kid so I guess I imagine that something is going fuck this up and that it’s going to end up hurting me.”

Greg points over to a woman, somewhere in her mid-thirties, who has her hand raised. She’s got a bit of a Stevie Nicks vibe, wearing a black flowing dress, black rimmed hat and, of course, a black shawl over her shoulders.

“Yes, Ophelia.”

“So, like, when you dream of your own funeral, there’s a spiritualism to that, man. Sometimes, it can mean you need to make some changes to your life. But it usually means that it’s the end of one chapter of your life and the start of another. I mean, you’re about to become the patron of a tiny, sweet, soft, innocent, cute, giggly, precious bundle of joy. That’s the start of something beautiful.” Ophelia stops and scrunches her nose. “But if you’re dreaming of being buried in a coffin, that means you feel trapped.”

“That’s the polar opposite of helpful. You know that?”

Greg puts his hand up, stopping Ken.

“Hold on. She’s actually onto something, on both counts. Is your wife’s pregnancy giving you the feeling that you’re trapped? It’s a very common thing, you know.”

“No! I’ve been waiting for this my entire life.”

“I’m telling you, you’re scared of this next chapter of your life, Ken. Who wouldn’t be? It’s, like, a whole new world.”

“This is… This is… It’s different,” Ken stammers. “I’ve been having this dream for years, twenty five fucking years. Okay? The difference is now it’s me in the box instead of Crys…”

Ken freezes dead in his tracks. Are these REALLY his people? Can he trust them with this?

“My finance was killed by a drunk driver. She was pregnant when she died. For twenty five years I’ve dreamed of her in that box and now, the past few months, ever since I found out my wife is knocked up, it’s me in that fucking box. I suppose your hippie mumbo jumbo bullshit can explain that, Ophelia.”

Ophelia is completely unphased by Ken’s outburst, looking through the window at the snow beginning to fall in the illumination of the streetlight outside. She waits for Ken to finish before returning her attention to him.

“Yeah, my dude. I can explain that. You loved your fiance, having her taken away by death’s cruel embrace never changed that. When going to the funeral of someone who is already dead in your sleep symbolizes that you’re still grieving their loss and that you’re not able to move on. So, it symbolizes your own feelings of guilt or regret in regard to that person. How would you have stopped her death? That’s such a burden to carry for as long as you have.”

“So what you’re telling me is that I’m feeling trapped because my wife is pregnant? Is that what we’re going with?”

Greg gives Ken a reassuring smile.

“Actually, I think you are being trapped by fear. You keep looking for things that could go wrong, whether or not they actually could. You feel like you no longer care about anything else except protecting your life and kid. And perhaps, you even feel like a prisoner in your own life. Right?”

“In some ways, I guess. But I’ve always wanted to protect my family.”

“Yes, but that feeling was never connected to feelings of loss. When you have something to relate your fears to, you feel like you are stuck. It’s completely normal. The good news is that it’s temporary. Like a kidney stone, this too shall pass.”

“When? Seven months from now after she gives birth?”

“So let’s dive in if you want to get unstuck. Usually, the reason we get stuck is because we hold on to some previous ideas we had, just like you are. What you need to do is get moving, make small changes. Think about the world and how different it is. You can’t keep your wife prisoner and you can’t keep her encased in bubble wrap. What can you do?”

“I mean, we have these apps on our phones that we can see where we are. We can always call each other. But I don’t want her going out alone, especially at night.”

“You are a professional wrestler. You travel around the country, sometimes around the world. What you can do is talk to your wife and let her know your concerns. In your line of work you need to focus on what you are doing in the moment or you can get hurt. Talk to your wife, and I am saying that again, because that is the best advice I have.” Greg looks down at his watch. “It looks like that’s all the time we have for tonight.”

The group stands up and begins folding up their chairs, with the exception of Ken himself. Greg stops and clasps his hand on Ken’s shoulder.

“I think that you and I need to schedule an individual session. Call my secretary tomorrow, please.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.”

Greg continues towards the back of the room to put his chair back where it belongs. Ken stands up and walks out, making it as far as the second step in the front of the building before practically collapsing on the cold concrete. He pulls out his phone and quickly dials the phone. It barely rings before Kyra answers.

“Hey, babe… I love you.”

“What do you want?” Kyra responds jokingly.

“You. I’ll talk to you when I get home,” he says with tears rolling down his cheeks. The tenor of Mrs. Davison’s voice changes.

“What’s wrong? Don’t try to bullshit me, either. I can hear it.”

“I’ll explain when I get home. I just… I’m feeling things right now. I’ll hit Starbucks on the way home and bring you a coffee. You want anything else?”

“We’ve got DoorDash on the way. We’re good.” There is an awkward pause in the air for just a moment. “Are you sure you’re good?”

“I will be. I just wanted to let you know in case anything happens, that you are sun. My world revolves around you. You’re the light in my life and I’d be lost without you.”

“Don’t be stupid. Take your time and collect yourself. Skip the coffee and get your ass home. Understand?”

“Sure thing, mama. Love you.”

“I love you, too. Be careful.”

“I will.” Ken hangs up the phone and stands up, holding onto the railing to support his weakened knees as he meanders the rest of the way down the stairs to get to his car.

“What I want more is for @GodlyKenDavison to be honest about who he is and embrace his true prickish self. Stop lying to yourself. You’ll feel better.” – Zane Scott, Twitter, February 13th, 2023

“The world is full of people who tolerate Phrixus Deimos. A stalwart of the Coalition, he may be the opponent I’ve crossed paths with the most. The difference between this meeting and our last is that I seem to have found my stride since the new year. Sure, I might have come up short against Zane Scott, but there’s no shame in that. Winning my block of the Global Challenge, winning the Conquest Championship, those two things have given me the confidence of knowing that I can do this on my own, at least in the ring.”

“I know the games you play, Phrixus. You like to pray upon the fears of others, that whole bootleg “Scarecrow from Batman” thing you do. Forgive me if my pronunciation is off, but I believe the diagnosis of my condition is… what’s the damned word? Atychiphobia, the fear of failure. I sat there and put on a brave face, but behind the scenes, I was terrified each and every time I had a match on my own. It was obvious as loss after loss was added to my ledger. I forgot who I was, even as I stood as a champion in other places, I still felt that I was scraping the bottom of the barrel here. It was an interesting juxtaposition to say the least.”

“Yet, here I stand as a champion. Here I stand knowing that while I am alone in the ring, I am never truly alone. I have my wife, my family. my friends and the fans on my side. I’d like to hope I am something of a leader. It’s not because I am the Conquest Champion. It’s not because I was a Cooperative Champion. It’s because when I came into this company, I had a set goal. When I achieved that goal, when Kyra and I won the Cooperative Championship, we didn’t look at the belts and say “Well, we did it,” and walk away. We set new goals. We wanted to become the longest reigning Cooperative Champions and that’s still on the to do list. We had setbacks. I struggled to find myself, but Kyra showed me how resilient she was by winning the Massive Melee just an hour after we dropped the Cooperative belts.”

“As for me, I struggled, and that’s fine because I showed that I was willing to keep trying, keep pushing. I showed that I was willing to continue fighting. The reason that I am in the position that I am in, is because I do not give up. Giving up would set a horrible example for everyone who believes in me. Those are the qualities that I feel make me a champion, and more importantly, a champion.”

“The reason why I am telling you all of this is because I know the type of man you are because that’s the type of man I was. I don’t have to come down to the ring, take a microphone, and tear you down. I don’t have to come down here and play mind games with you. I see your resume. I know your credentials. I know what you are capable of with the number of times we’ve clashed. That brings me to the parable of “Godly” Ken Davison, circa 1997. You and he are very much the same person. You think you can get in my head because of your intellectual prowess. You cannot play that game with me. You can’t get embedded in my psyche because you are not deserving. I say that with no slight and no malice. You simply aren’t willing to do what it takes to remain a champion, or to be a leader. Over the summer I was flying back and forth between India and Chicago to work two shows in two days for two companies because I would not let my family down. That is who I am as a person.”

“I will acknowledge how good you are. One dimensional? Sure. But you’re still a damned fine talent. I’m not going to walk into this match and underestimate you. What I am going to do, is I am going to warn you. I became a leader here because I’m not afraid to lose. I became a leader here because I give everything of myself each and every match. Win, lose, or draw, I can walk back into that locker room, look in the mirror, and feel a sense of pride. This match probably feels like an oppotunity for you. For me, This match is where I once again show everyone in the stands, watching at home, backstage in the locker room.. I am going to show them once again that “Godly” Ken Davison is the epitome of what they want to be. I am going to be the man who walks into this match with a chip on his shoulder. When all is said and done, you and the rest of the UGWC roster are going to remember who the hell “Godly” Ken Davison is. My loss to Zane is nothing but a catalyst. I will put you down, Phrixus.”

“In the immortal words of Ash Williams, “Hail to the king, baby.”