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The Ivy League: I WAS THERE
I was there in 99 when there were twelve men spread out amongst four cages and a big guy named Lucky broke through a wall to give his boy access to his enemy.
I was there in double-zero when the loud manager and the bodyguard were both bounced, and a respect match ended in a stalemate, won by technicality only.
I was there in oh-one, when a fight spread from the ring to the loading dock to the bar across the street to the buffet room and everything inbetween, and the end of the feud sparked the beginning of the family.
And you can bet your ass I was there just the other night, when he defeated a bonafide legend and a legend in the making to become World Champion.
It's no surprise to anyone that I'm a big 'Triple X' Sean Stevens fan. But I've always been a big 'Triple X' Sean Stevens fan.
Does that surprise you?
In my twelve years as an active participant in the sport of professional wrestling, it was next to impossible to impress me. It's not a slight on any of the boys who came of age in that span, but Greensboro, from 95 to 96, was one of the hottest places to be in the history of the sport and I was spoiled for impact fairly early on. Since then, not even the Craig Miles-esque run of whiskey I've been on has blurred the names of those who succeeded.
Eddy Love impressed me.
Deacon impressed me.
JJ DeVille impressed me.
Lance Knight impressed me.
Rana Venenosa impressed me.
Triple X impressed me.
Looking back, it's obvious, but at the time I couldn't figure it out. Here was a cocky, confident, blonde, blue - eyed badass who had all the signs of being a gasoline - soaked rag. Instant heat, gigantic flareup, but quick to burn out. I first encountered him in a promotion that's deceased to all but those of us who were there, Hardcore Extreme Wrestling. He was a tremendously skilled wrestler who had that elusive it going for him, that sense that he could turn the crowd on and off on command depending on what he wanted them to do. He had Big Lucky in his corner as his bodyguard, a move that always struck me as a little off - if he was so damned good why did he need someone bigger than him to protect him - but the juxtaposition worked. He never seemed to 'turn off' in the locker room, which really bothered a lot of the others. Who was this kid from Orlando who was so flippin' awesome he could afford to have such a huge ego around his peers? I assumed he just didn't know how to act around other wrestlers - very few people had a Terry Cooper in their past who really stressed the locker room equality that is so rare in the actual game itself. So I gave him the benefit of the doubt and made an overture. I was partly right, he had been part of the cutthroat end of professional wrestling that didn't engender itself to dealing with locker rooms, but he was also convinced of his overwhelming greatness early on.
After his first match with Eli Flair, not so much.
My first real conversation with Sean Stevens - not Triple X - happened after that match. Eli and I had returned to the hotel for a few hours of sleep before shipping out to wherever else we were headed that week, and while Eli was the beaten - up one who needed icepacks and sleep, I was ready to join the rest of the boys in the hotel bar for a few rounds before making my way up the stairs myself. But I barely started on my drink when I saw that same blue - eyed badass sitting in the corner, sulking. So I sat down across from him and stared at him until he made eye contact. I knew exactly what was on his mind, too.
"I'm the fucking man, but I went out there and Flair took me to school."
So I talked to him for about ten minutes. Maybe it was egotistical of me, but I'd spent four years rubbing elbows with the Meltons, the Hornets, the Windhams, the Randalls, the PLRs and Billy Starrs, and I had the ear of the people who did matter at the time, and I thought I knew what I was talking about. I told him that the first humbling experience is always the worst, but that he should see what he can take from it to make the inevitable second time sting a lot less and spin it off into a character direction. I told him all about Eli's experience with a big, marginally talented rookie named Platoon who did something similar in the fall of 1994 and how he was able to get it going the other way.
It would take two additional promotions and over a year for he and I, Lucky and I, or he and Eli to really wade through all the bullshit and become friends, but the fact that I saw him go out and do exactly what I suggested he do - and do it a lot better than anyone gave him credit for - made me realize he was okay.
Of course, in one of those twists of irony, one of the first promos he ever cut on Eli and I involved him telling me how I'd bear his children someday. Fate is not without a sense of humor.
The rest of the story is pretty well documented. Trip and I reconnected in the legendary CWL and finally - obvious to everyone except us - we got together in 2002 on the fWo's European tour. It's funny, I spent seven years completely denying that part of myself, denying the relationships, denying the loneliness of the road, all in the name of establishing myself as a legitimate voice in this business. The isolated nights were the result of that loneliness boiling over, and my relationship with Hornet was always more of an on - camera thing that became a off - camera thing, as opposed to an actual relationship. Nothing against the time I spent with him, Paul and I have buried the past and I'm proud to consider him one of my close friends, but it was like day and night.
For the first time in my life, I was with someone who didn't give a flying monkey's butt that I was Poison Ivy, the Psycho Bitch. I was with someone who didn't care that I was in The Man's corner, had the booker's attention, and commanded an army of loyal Internet fanboys who read these columns like the fifth Gospel. Sean Stevens wanted to be with Ivy Lillian McGinnis. He met my mom before she died, he got to know my brother and his wife and kids, he listened to Coop talk shop without telling him he was rambling. He came to see Valerian's Garden play at FTN on an all - too - rare night off, solely because he was interested in what I was going to offer them.
He was my stabilizer, the man who made me whole. He was the only man I had ever known who could both coddle and spoil me and treat me like a princess and a lady, and at the same time never feel threatened by being the boyfriend of one of the most independent, opinionated, and vocal women that his industry had ever known.
My time with Eli has been the best time in my life. We had some serious heat in the spring and summer of 2004 when Disney had taken over the fWo and I was in the office, but other than that everything he and I did together, both with and against each other, was some of the most brilliant work that two people have ever put down in an arena, and I will defend that to my dying day. The time I spent with Sean and Lance Knight, as Team EQ, the Equalizers, was the most fun I've ever had in this sport. I talked, but I didn't have to talk. I did promo work, but I didn't have to do promo work. It wasn't like me and Eli where everyone expected both of us to go over the top - Sean and Alex didn't need me there at all. They asked me to be there because they trusted me and they wanted me at ringside with them.
I've never forgotten that, and in a lot of ways, I've never repaid them for that.
Officially, I'm retired from professional wrestling. Officially, Poison Ivy's last night in the business was NFW Wrestlebowl 2 night 2 when Dan Ryan pinned Eli Flair to close out Team Extreme's thirteen year run of terror. Officially, the last official act Poison Ivy performed was to write a column for the NFW titled 'Ninja Vanish' to close out Eli Flair's career. Poison Ivy has to be Ivy McGinnis, manager of Valerian's Garden these days. Poison Ivy has to be mommy to Shannon Joseph Stevens these days. She doesn't have time to be the Ol' Perfessor, the Psycho Bitch, the Manager of Champions, and all the other nicknames these days.
But the other night, when Triple X Sean Stevens defeated Joey Melton and Lindsay Troy to become Empire Pro World Heavyweight Champion, Poison Ivy was there. She didn't make much noise, and she watched a wrestling show from start to finish in the stands for the first time since 1993, but Poison Ivy was there.
And she remembered the Blue - Eyed Badass coming to the ring with or without that insufferable ego, determined to give the fans a show.
And she remembered the Blue - Eyed Badass defending her honor against Spyder and Eron and everyone inbetween.
And she remembered the Blue - Eyed Badass busting his ass to get to a little town in Wyoming so he could be there for the birth of their son.
And she remembered the most important thing about professional wrestling - you can never really tell who's going to make it until they do.
I don't honestly know if Miz McGinnis, mommy, booker, and analyst, or Poison Ivy, psycho bitch and pain in the ass is typing this out today. But both of us were there for Triple X's defining moments. Both of us were there for Triple X's coming of age in promotions both tall and small. And both of us are really, really proud of Sean Stevens.
This is Ivy.
Link:
http://www.fwrestling.com/host/EmpirePro/
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