Some people have high expectations for how their life’s going to turn out. I’ve never been one of those people. The height of my expectations for myself came at around age 11-12 where I convinced myself that I could one day manage Celtic and win the European Cup. Before that I aspired to be a pro wrestler, moving up the ranks through Hammerlock Wrestling, to ECW, then WCW and finally WWE, where I’d win the WWE Title at Wrestlemania 30 (that yin didnae quite work out, but I’ve stretched it to Mania 35 just in case Austin wants one more match) aside from that, career wise, besides knowing that I’m the single best wrestling writer on planet earth and believing that I should be paid a premium for my immense talents (this patter is a bit of an in-joke, but its aw true and ye ken it) I’ve never really had big hopes and dreams.
As you get older, your hopes and dreams become more realistic. That doesn’t stop them keeping you up at night though. That doesn’t stop them becoming all consuming. The thought of that dream not coming true feeling like a dagger to the baws. The fleeting moments where you allow yourself to picture a scenario where it does come true providing untold relief. A wave of euphoria. For the past 6 months or so, I’ve had a hope that I’ve placed above all others. A dream that superceeded anything I could possibly dream of happening to me personally. Something that mattered more.
A few days ago that dream came true. When my (co-)best pal (hi Dave x) told me that after another few bouts of treatment, she should be free of cancer. After her second battle with it. I wasn’t her best pal, or even any kind of fixture in her life when she first battled it and that’s why I’ve put this on a wrestling forum, because without wrestling we wouldn’t have been pals. Without us being pals, this site wouldn’t exist. Some folk don’t ever really get a best pal. There will be people they call that, but a real best pal is someone you know is gonnae be there through anything. Thickness or thin-ness. Gidness or badness. I’m lucky enough to have two of the fuckers, and one of them might not die anytime soon.
Dreams can come true. All you have to do. IS BO-LIEVE.
So mon oot on Sunday, watch some wrestling, and celebrate Connie no being deid anytime soon.
(Ah’ve got a burd)