Running the Ropes with Roni Nicole

From the bracing to the tremendous. Personal triumphs or real life hardships. 'Running the Ropes, with Roni Nicole' will bring you insights into one female professional wrestlers view of the squared circle. From history to current events, Independent or Federation, controversies, trial, social experiments and more 'Running the Ropes, with Roni Nicole' will surely bring a fresh look at the greatest sport known to man........professional wrestling.

Roni Nicole

Let The Journey Begin........

August 19, 2015

The end of summertime approaches. The dog days, soaking in the last of seaside vacations, backyard grilling, wrestling at fairs and festivals, freedom, and sunshine... before the winds of fall blow cooler temperatures and autumn leaves through the pumpkin spiced streets of America, as the season begins to change, I take the time to reflect on my own wet hot American summer. Wrestling each weekend, traveling the United States, doing what I love in towns across the country; I am not alone in my endeavors many of my wrestling brothers and sisters share in the 'Road Life.' I say brothers and sisters because wrestling has been classified as many things... some laudable and some not so complementary; sports entertainment, fake, a High School, a maladaptive fraternity, fixed... but above all else, in my humble opinion, it is a dysfunctional family. Look at your own. Everyone has that 'one' Uncle or Aunt who you hope doesn't find the house vodka, that cousin who always borrows your clothes or video games and 'mysteriously' never returns them. A stern but loving Grandparent. A sibling who you may regularly want to throttle, but will defend to the death against external antagonistic forces. Families are not bound by blood alone; they are created by the blending of like and loving minds and hearts, shared experiences, trials, tribulations, and even loss.

My wrestling family experienced major losses this year...especially this summer. Deaths that have devastated the very heart and soul of our business. Though Cora Combs, Perro Aguayo Jr., Verne Gagne, and Buddy Landel , among others, are no longer with us... the legacy of their contributions will resonate with the entire wrestling community perpetually. As they all ascend to the great WrestleMania in the sky...our hearts hang even heavier as two other, wrestling titans join them.

I was folding laundry and getting ready for the gym when I heard the news.

He was gone.

I had the most selfish thought at that very moment as tears slid down my face...

..'I'll never get to meet him...'

John Wayne was dead... and so was he.

The over the top magnetism of ‘The Common Man’ born the 'Son of a Plumber' and the father to two celestial wrestling superstars...was gone. And just like that the warm summer nights got a little cooler. The sky seemed a little less filled with sparkle. The lives of so many were irrevocably changed. It’s hard to even imagine the difficulty that the loss of The 'American Dream' Dusty Rhodes put on his family, friends and colleagues.

And there I stood in a Game of Thrones t-shirt folding delicates and weeping like I’d lost my grandfather.

But I did. (Sort of)

We all did.

Dusty Rhodes was the charismatic, blonde, rotund, orator that taught us all the value of the underdog.

He verbally slaughtered Flair when he told us about 'hard times', and in less than 4 minutes he had successfully connected with the blue-collar class more than any politician, athlete, or activist in the history of the art of speech giving. Not only did he have that carnal magnetism that so few possess he was by most accounts was a stellar human being and a phenomenal father to his children. He worked with practically every known federation and held title after title. This unlikely hero was the ideal and yet unconventional benchmark for the uncharacteristic 'diamond in the rough' prototype.

Who else could have work polka dots with so much swag?

Who else could have held feuds with so many, making his opponents look like maniacal monsters and making us genuinely FEEL commiserative for the midnight rider?

So...why was I so overwrought?

I had never met the man, only studied his work in an effort to improve my own craft. I was told to 'take it back' when I studied and so I did. Old Jim Crockett, NWA, WCW and WWF became my haven for study. My studies introduced me to some of the greats; Flair and Race, Rhodes and Funk, Piper, Blackjack and Sullivan. When it was all said and done, my interaction with him was nonexistent and yet, the connection and the feeling of loss I felt was palpable. Because in a metaphorical way... I HAD met him. Spending so much time learning and watching his promos and film, reading about his life, learning about the lives of his two sons who sought to make their mark just as their father had.... It almost felt as though the schema of the man that I pictured in my mind had been effaced before I was even able to fill it with fact. I personally believe you can never truly know someone, we all keep parts of ourselves hidden from scrutiny, and some more than others, but humans by nature are complex, layered, and faceted in ways one can never fully comprehend.

However, their deeds and actions help to build a legacy of who they were.

...And this man had left a dinosaur sized footprint in the annals of the wrestling community.

Who would lead us now? I thought.

Who would help us truly keep the essence of wrestling alive?

It was as if we were all bereft of the grandfather that we expected to always be around to learn more from because without him we'd be untrained hooligans with no concept of storytelling...or life.

With the loss of so many...where do we go from here?

Forward.

We adapt...or we die.

So the summer rolled on, warm days stretching into cool nights, miles of highway and mountainsides, armories, arenas and locker-rooms. The world kept spinning and we had to keep moving forward. WE had to become the storytellers, the 'common' men and women. WE had to shoulder the responsibility of keeping the extraordinary heritage of our true forefathers viable...

But our family was irrevocably marked with melancholia, and then…….

Standing in the locker room of Premier Wrestling Federation, someone blows in like a cyclone and says, “Get ready, we're starting the show and we’ve got to do a 10 bell salute.”

My confusion was evident as someone turned to me and said,

“Piper”

I walked to the ring with my brothers and sisters in a mournful silence, in shock, disbelief, and pain.

WHAT?

One of the top villains, who truly seemed indestructible... despite his antics, had now joined Combs, and Landel and Rhodes at the gates. No longer would the 'Hot Rod' grace us with his antics or his signature kilt. No more would we see this frenzied face grinning insanely into a camera.

We returned to the locker-room in silence as the crowd roared and his entrance music played. There was a tingling air of disbelief and sadness for the man who had angered thousands with his rendition of a slightly offensive Mexican song on bagpipes. The Masked Canadian was gone and he took a small tartan part of our hearts with him.

He was the classic antagonist and some of my foremost memories of 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper involve him insulting someone and then receiving recompense. Boldly insulting Superfly , crashing The Flower Shop...body-slamming Mr. T and generally being a ill-natured, oleaginous, smart ass was his shtick. And it worked.

When I asked whom to study when training to be my own version of a villain, his was one of the first three names named.

As I stood trying to hide my tears in the locker-room, a fellow wrestler embraced me and asked what was wrong. Again, that selfish feeling returned.

“I’ll never get to meet him, we just lost Dusty!” I exclaimed like an agitated toddler.

They embraced me again and said “Yeah...I know” in a way that could only mean they understood what I meant. And they felt the same loss.

We're a family.

Or course they did.

The ripples that his death caused were felt worldwide. Piper wasn't just an antagonistic mischief-maker. He didn't just 'push the envelope' he filled it with gunpowder and laughed as it exploded when you opened it. He wasn't just a wrestler; he sought to be an all around amusement machine. Even cutting a single with a music video, as well as, appearing in a music video for former 'rival' Cyndi Lauper. As I stood there wiping my face and reflecting on the body of work that this incredible and sometimes nefarious rhetorician accomplished, another wrestler walked by and whispered

“There’s no crying in professional wrestling.”

He was right.

If I had done that on Pipers Pit I might have been able to play bag pipes... with my butt.

Or would’ve have been beamed with a coconut. I mean come on; you can't live in sorrowfulness when you remember his torment of Hulk Hogan on SNL, or his utterly uproariously performance on 'Always Sunny' as 'Da Maniac. Piper was a bad ass, but he lived his life on screen SO full of just that...LIFE. Fearlessness.

Incredible wit.

A little bit of brash that we all wish we could substantiate each day.

Not misery.

And yes...I felt it, that feeling that the titans of a time before us were leaving us the 'reins'.

The pressure of living up to the tremendous legacy left for us to hold, cherish, and protect.

Tears weren't going to make that happen.

Because everything does in fact, happen for a reason.

And so these tragically tremendous deaths are not in fact losses...but fierce calls to action for every wrestler who is on the road day in and day out, being a wrestler and not just 'playing' one on TV.

Keep their memories in your craft; respect their legacy (and those before you) in all that you do. Be mindful that life is fleeting; your deeds will remain long after you have returned to dust.

...You are the captain of your wrestling destiny and have been given a great gift and great responsibility...use it wisely. Be mindful of the history you encompass in all that you do, one day that 10 bell salute might be for you.

Enjoy the remainder of this Wet Hot American summer.

LIVE! From The Armory

January 26, 2016

Running The Ropes: Getting Oriented In L.O.T.R.S

Roni Nicole

Depending on what time of day you are reading this, Ohayo gozaimasu, Good morning or Konbanwa, Good evening.

Ladies and gentlemen, Welcome...to The Land Of The Rising Sun.

May I just say it has been a challenging, enlightening, crazy and fulfilling experience thus far.

From the flight here (thanks for that first class bump Delta Airlines ;) ) to the culture, the people and the training. I've been to a traditional British pub with an actual Brit. I've taken the train all over. I've had my hair petted by multiple small children. I've performed in Korakuen Hall...whoa.

I've also had a brief run in with an African drug lord and his mates but that’s a story for another time.

My mind, body, and even my soul have been expanded in ways I would have never imagined...and this is just the beginning.

Speaking of...that's as good of a place to start as any.

It's been nearly a month however, but it doesn't feel like it at all! The first week here was a dizzying whirlwind and the room has just recently slowed to a more carousel-like speed. I have a feeling though that there won't be much carousel-like coasting for much longer.

After saying goodbye to my family, friends, and my most handsome little gentleman Prince Paco (my chihuahua, he's awesome). I departed RDU for St. Paul, Minneapolis. From there I would connect to Los Angles to catch my final flight to Tokyo at the renowned LAX.

Okay so...maybe not 'renowned' but if you're flying across the Atlantic, that's where you're going. Plus I’m writing this, let me jazz it up a bit ;)

I'm not going to lie to you, the idea of being abeyant in the air in a metal tube for that long freaked me out. Heck, the Wright brothers screwed it up a lot before they were successful. And everyone remembers that tragic Malaysian flight a few years back.

Needless to say I wasn't in the tranquilest of moods, even after being a frequent flyer since the age of 6.

I mean if a bunch of snakes turned up on the plane? No Samuel L.

If a dead body turned up in the oven? No Castle OR Beckett.

If someone happened to be smuggling bones in a duffel bag? Well, I didn’t' have Bones...or Booth.

If some psycho decided to take the plane for a joyride...into a body of water? No Liam.

Now I was pretty sure if some creeper sat next to me and started threatening my family in order for me to move some Ambassador guy's hotel room to a higher floor so they could launch a missile at him? I’d be able to stab him in the throat with a pen...Rachel McAdams style.

But I was really hoping NONE of that would happen.

I was also hoping there would be plenty of liquid-y distractions to keep the nerves down.

On my final flight from LAX to Haneda there was a brief turbulence scare but our captain (in a silky Barry White voice) assured us we were fine, it was just a bit of cloud coverage; and then randomly a tiny whiskey appeared on my tray table.

The steward was amazing.

And yes, my stewardess was a – steward- and he was fantastic. I also didn't mind the called me 'Champ', gave me extra blankets, and kept the libations coming ;)

Two in flight movies, a very comfy nap and three meals later (we got A LOT of food for some reason...trust me I didn't mind) we were about an hour and a half from landing.

I, along with the rest of the entire plane (yeesh) thought this was an excellent time for a bathroom break.

Shout out to whoever detonated a butt bomb in the toilet RIGHT before I came in.

And my apologizes to whomever was after me...I'm sure my perfuming of the bathroom only made it smell like cow-pies covered in elegant magnolias.

Enough bathroom chat.

I landed in the Land of The Rising Sun.

84 bags later ( I packed light, it was awful! I literally have nothing to wear) I found myself the only chocolate chip in a sea of porcelain faces.

...wait am I home?

Oh- Nope. ;) (because... I can't read ANY of this...Oh wait! a man with a cape, this must be the ladies room.)

After reaping the rewards of so many tiny libations I set off through customs and then on to immigration; which I found delightful and super efficient (time to catch up America *side eye*). A few video calls to let family and friends know I was safe later and I was off with my sponsor to the dojo.

Everything was lit up in neon and the intersections were huge! Since it was so late there weren’t' many people out but the people I did see were hurrying from one place to the next...I felt like I was in New York on the other side of the world.

And I was...Er...Am. On the other side of the world I mean.

Its evening here and it's early morning there. The time difference is trippy and for some reason I keep losing days?

Not like dropping them and being unable to find them but more like:

“ Yeah it's Wednesday!”

“...”

“...No Roni, it's definitely Friday.”

“...Wait what?”

I'll figure it out.

I settled into the dojo and began unpacking, slowly staking my claim on this place that will be my home for the next 6 months. I hung the photos of my family and friends on the wall and lovingly placed my Pooh Bear pillow on my bed.

And if I get any flack bout Pooh? I’ll fight you.

After a very thorough conversation with Mama Nicole (more like don't drink , touch, or eat anything.

...Thanks Mom...I got it... I love you...) I decided to investigate the vending machines I had spotted on the way in when I was accosted by the cat from Japanese hell.

I will say the cat and I are on better terms now... there was some chicken and wet cat food bribery involved. However, for the first few days I had to be careful that he didn't 'Thug Life' swipe me down the stairs.

The cat, whom I have renamed Satan, hissed loudly and refused to let me pass, this went on for about 20 minutes until I decided it was my thirst or him.

My thirst won.

And he was quite miffed that I soaked him with a glass of water.

Hey dude you tried to end my career...MULTIPLE times...you'll live.

Further up the street I noticed a 7-Eleven and stopped in to grab a quick something for dinner.

It was so unnerving paying with foreign currency but the cashier was so kind and helpful; I think he could tell I 'wasn’t from round these parts' ;)

Using Yen has turned out to be rather easy, which is awesome.

I'll save my exchange rate gripes for another day.

The week was a blur, between training and my first show I was in a complete state of almost non-reaction. I sure somewhere some keyboard therapist would say culture shock, jet lag, concussion brain...gas...I don't know.

I mean, it was all so overpowering to my consciousness. The sights, the smells, the tastes, even the textures are different. I was so overloaded that I scarcely had time to actually stop and react to the fact that I am actually here.

That I actually did it.

I would always say “ Japan is the plan”

...and I actually ended up...here.

I have dreamt of coming to Japan since I was a teenager; I don't remember how I started watching Japanese wrestling but my earliest memories include Aja Kong, Manami Toyota, Chigusa Nagayo and Kyoko Inoue.

I remember thinking 'S*it these women are incredible...I want to be THAT!'

...and no I’m not incredible...yet... but I’m certainly grateful for the opportunity to be surrounded by women and men who truly take this business to the next level.

After the first show, seeing the level of respect that the wrestlers pay to the TRUE veterans of this business as well as the business itself? I know that wrestling is alive and well...in the way it was meant to be. Wrestling is not just a 'hobby' here, as my sponsor told me it is 'big business in Japan' and it utterly shows. Wrestlers treat each 'game' (match) as an individual day at work and the attention to detail is phenomenal.

I was terrified at first. That I would freeze in the ring. Or be unable to communicate and my match would turn out poorly. That they would all hate me and wonder what I was doing here. That my hair would get caught in the ropes and I would scalp myself.

It was nothing like that.

Now I’m not saying that I went in and did a Sasha Banks v Bailey at Respect match.

But I held my own.

And when one of your tag-team opponents comes to you in the locker room after-wards and says

“ You a good safe worker, one day soon? We work”...?

It validates the hard work that my trainers put in to make a clumsy, loosey goose, giggling greenhorn an actual professional wrestler.

That every negative thing ever said was worth the sting once I heard it.

That every extra hour I stayed to train at the Fracture Factory went towards this goal.

Every concussion.

Every injury.

Every night I spent angry or crying because the heat was unfair and I shouldn’t have the blame.

Every hour spent in a car with actual wrestlers... AND weekend warriors.

It makes this special opportunity so much sweeter.

It makes all of the doubt and drama and politics seem worth it.

It makes me feel like I DO belong here.

And it's only going to get better.

...the dream I had as a chubby insecure teenage girl is finally being realized... and it truly brings tears to my eyes.

Now don't get me wrong, the training also brings tears to my eyes. (No Dan I’m not crying during training, I’m no cupcake ;) )

But I swear to M&M's I’ve never done so many Hindu push-ups, squats, bumps and cardio in my life ( I miss you Zumba, I really do, but you ain’t got ish on this!)!!!

... but I love it.

Its hard but it's SO FUN.

I always said I wanted to go into the crucible to get stronger...I’ve come to the right place.

I can't wait to see where I am at the end of 6 months it's a truly exciting prospect! The hard work will make me into the wrestler I was always meant to be, and I’m truly excited about that.

Additionally, There is so much to do and see here, it's gorgeous and I haven't even explored the entire island yet. I do need to find a recording studio though...I'm thinking of becoming an awesome Japanese pop star? So I need to go ahead and start working on that.

I'm thinking something along the lines of Janet Jackson/Mandy Moore (early years)/Aaliyah/S Club 7 for my first album.

Wrestling related songs of course. :)

Or maybe I could get into some acting as well, The Little Mermaid is currently running...I wonder if they'll do ROOTS? ;)

I'll keep you posted ;)

...the possibilities are endless.

Jaa Ne. Genki de.

See you, all the best <3 :)

LIVE! From The Armory

February 11, 2016

Running The Ropes: Finding My Way In L.O.T.R.S

Roni Nicole

Ohayo gozaimasu/ Konbanwa!

Greetings from the Land Of The Rising Sun.

It's been about a month and almost a half and I'm counting down the days.

But........

Not in the way you might think.

I realized that in all of the places that I've lived and in all of the places I've called 'home', this feels the MOST like 'Home Sweet Home.'

Weird...... I know.

I'm sure that sounds unusual considering I am an absolute foreigner in this awe-inspiring country; and don't get me wrong I'm still a southern belle ( sometimes from Hell ;) ) with roots dug deep as a peach tree in the heart of the South. I will ALWAYS represent the great state of Texas and even to some extent North Carolina ( Though I will NEVER love the Tar-heels :-\ ). I grew up running through acres of farmland and pecan trees, drinking sweet tea on porch steps, eating corn bread and molasses cake, catching 'lightning bugs' , going to the scariest Primitive Southern Baptist church known to man (LOL) and being whipped with a switch when I was getting out of line (spare the rod spoil the child as my Grandmother would say ;-) ) However, when you go some places, you just know...

...sometimes those places can become 'home' too.

It's a feeling.

Something just swells inside you that makes you feel assured and free, like going home usually does.

I find it quite similar to how I believe one can't TRULY describe love (in my humble opinion).

Yes.

I understand that you can state reasons WHY you love someone, WHAT you love about them and HOW they make you feel...

but love ITSELF...

Man...

...Trying to truly express what LOVE feels like in your heart? In the deepest reaches of your soul?

There are hardly words.

I guess that's why some say music is our gift from the heavens...the only real way of expressing love in a way our minds can process...or maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic. ;)

Anyway, I'm counting down because I’m genuinely dreading leaving. The idea that I only have a few more months here makes me nauseous and mournful. The connections I've made here are ones I will truly cherish for a lifetime...and I do not wish to leave them behind. Except Satan. I won't miss him. AT.ALL. He swatted my ankle again this morning and looked at me like 'Come at me bro.'

I just might Satan. I JUST might. :-|

Take my main Diana trainers, Aono San and Ito San.

Wrestling bad-asses. Hardcore training beasts...and I absolutely adore them.

They try to kill me in training (LOL) but it comes from a deep well of knowledge, experience, and professionalism. Their drive? Drives me even harder, even in moments of pure agony or distress. (Did I mention how much I hate push-ups?) They both have SO MUCH history in their illustrious careers and I feel extremely felicitous to have the opportunity to soak up as much of that as I can in the time that I have here!!

Yesterday, (February 10, 2016) was Aono San's 21^st Wrestleversary....

...You mean to tell me you were debuting wrestling when I was 8 years old?

...I had just DISCOVERED professional wrestling. SMH

...I'll get back to my burpees now.

...30 more bumps? No problem :)

Speaking of, let's get back to the action.

Thus far I've had the privilege of working with Diana, SEAdLINNNG, and now Reina; each organization is top-notch in it's own regard but I'm a little biased ;) (#DianaForLife). I'd also like to point out that each organization is headed by phenomenal women and men who have been in wrestling/ wrestling personally for YEARS...individuals who know the BUSINESS of wrestling inside and out. Here in Japan wrestling is treated as a serious business venture that renders dependable income for owners and wrestlers alike. And with so many companies: New Japan, Ice Ribbon, Dragon Gate, JWP, NOAH, Wave, All Japan and more..., you would think that wrestling fans would be 'burnt out' on all of the wrestling.

That they would tire of it and find some other form of entertainment to engage in.

No.

Nope.

Not in the least.

It's almost as if they CAN'T be satiated.

The wrestling fans here have a voracious appetite for wrestling and they take their patronage of events rather seriously. They CRAVE wrestling and they especially love to interact with their favorite wrestlers.

In my Diana match versus Rydeen Hagane at Lazona Kawasaki, fans were lined up waiting to buy tickets as we were setting up and giving small gifts to their favorite wrestlers before the show. It was astonishing to see SO many people, many of whom attend multiple shows in a week, reaching out and showing their appreciation for wrestling, without having the attitude of 'knowing it all' or being pompous in their assessment of the art.

They keep it pure.

They allow themselves to become wrapped up in the story and embrace the awe that wrestling gives us all at one point or another. That allowing of oneself to 'suspend disbelief' for a short time and get lost in the magic created in the ring? Makes the brutal art that we each create more poignant and unique. It makes it so rewarding for the wrestlers who can genuinely feel love, respect, and support from their personal fan bases.

Not to say that this doesn’t happen in America, however, we ALL know at LEAST one 'smart-mark' ( Unfortunately :-/ ) who refuses to allow themselves the vantage of believing in magic once again. Who 'know so much' that it makes it nearly infeasible for them to savor art and yet somehow empowers them to ceaselessly critique and disparage it. The atmosphere here is quite contrasting in terms of wrestling criticisms. Individuals actually become journalist and seek to report, analyze, and review wrestling in a manner more befitting of sports analysis without the 'negging' or trolling that plagues our internet and social media driven society today. It truly is more of a critical analysis from an objective standpoint, rather than opinion-driven, bombastic, shrewish, asshattery (and yes, I said asshattery).

Everyone here truly treats wrestling like a 'lady' and it is endearing to see and experience.

...and that love, respect, and appreciation that I previously mentioned?

...definitely not one sided.

The wrestlers here treasure their fans and treat them like family. Whenever a patron makes a merchandise purchase they receive a warm handshake and a sincere thank you. If there is time, most of the wrestlers will also speak with/ask about how a fan is or how they are enjoying themselves. It is a genuine mutual respect; the wrestlers understand that without the fans there would be no wrestling and the fans understand that these men and women push their bodies to the limits for them, even if it's just for a brief moment of escapism. The feeling of community, family, and admiration is palpable. I personally have been serendipitous enough to have been embraced by some fans who have become my adopted family here. To quote one of my favorite characters, Bobby Singer, from my favorite television show (Supernatural...duh...#DeanGirl4Lyfe ;) )

“Family don't just end in blood.”

...and I’m happy I'm finding my way.