Those were the days..

My brother sent me this picture the other day, and I couldn't help but laugh. It was a picture of a bed that had been turned into a WWE ring. For all of you who don't know, WWE stands for World Wrestling Entertainment, and yes I now know it's fake and scripted, but try telling me that back when I was the Miles Lane, and I may have slapped you. My brother and I use to go HARD, and I mean it. I told him, after he sent the picture, that one of us probably wouldn't be here today if we had that when we were kids. 

We weren't the type of kids who would just fake kick; oh, no. We use to take sheet rock and pretend it was a table, then somehow I was always the one getting slammed through it. The choke-slam, the tombstone, the spear, the rock-bottom, these were all my brother’s moves. The twist of fate, the five-star-frog-splash, the pedigree were all of my moves. We always use to go at it upstairs in one of our rooms, but after the occasional “knock it off!” cries from my dad we decided to move to a much more sound proof location, the basement. It was sketchy at first, only a thing rug separated us from and concrete.  Our dad finally got a wrestling mat, one like we use for the actual sport so we could practice our moves and get better, but really it was the missing piece where we could slam each other, and not gently lay them down.

I think it made us tough, close, and the childhood brothers should share as they grow up. A day came, however, when he outgrew the WWE fanatic who he used to be, and I got stuck just playing with my action figures by myself, alone. I really did love it though, when he would come downstairs into the basement and toss me around, it felt like the old times, the sheet rock tables, the actual chair hits, the actual ladder matches in the garage, those are the days I’m going to look back on.