Post by Tamika Strader on Mar 14, 2022 0:20:39 GMT -5
Tamika Anne Strader was born on March 20th, 1989, on a Monday at 11:55 PM, weighing in at 6 lbs 7 ounces to Lisa Jane Hayes, one of the two loves of Scott Nash Strader. Fifteen minutes later, her fraternal twin brother John was born, and Lisa had already decided to whisk her babies to a family friend in Okinawa, Japan. Lisa had both Canadian or American and Japanese teachers for Tamika and John growing up. She wanted them to re-enter Western Civilization seamlessly but with the grace and class of the Japanese.
Well, some plans just aren’t meant to come together. When the twins returned to their birthplace, John latched onto his father, and Tamika latched onto her older half-sister, Meghan. Tamika did have many great traits from parental respect, elder respect, courtesy, honour, and extreme loyalty. Scott took advantage of that and put his kids in situations that would ultimately suit him. Even though Meghan hated him most of the time, she was still undoubtedly loyal to him. Tamika was too. John, three.
Tamika broke into the business with her twin brother, but it was short-lived to two matches; she doesn’t even remember if they won or not. She wasn’t sure what she would do until Meghan approached her about forming the Cowgirls From Hell in the early winter of 2009, leading to their first tag team championships in Dublin, Ireland, on April 24th, 2010.
Now she’s in Dublin almost 12 years later, doing a fan signing with Meghan and Victoria. Or is it Veronica? Tamika wasn’t sure which one she was going to see on any given day lately, but she could see the signs and could act accordingly, but that was at the back of her mind, because for the first time in her career, and really, her life most likely she was focusing on herself. Plus, those two had wandered off somewhere, leaving Tamika to man the table.
Tamika wasn’t the type of wrestler to dwell on a singles career filled with singles accolades, accomplishments and championships. Tag Team wrestling was a different story; it’s what she lived and breathed. Meghan was the one that always had the singles itch, which was derived from her extreme daddy issues with an incessant need to please her father while also proving she was better than him.
No one knew aside from big sister, but the reason Tamika passed her physicals was because she had an experimental procedure like the hockey player in the NHL known as Jack Eichel, having multiple discs in her upper spine and her neck replaced as he did back in October, shortly after retiring as the Revolution1 Wrestling Tag Team Champions with Meghan. She didn’t want to tell anyone as she (at the time) had no plans of stepping foot back into the ring and didn’t want to be bothered by anyone about a possible “ONE NIGHT ONLY” return bullshit.
“Funny how life works, innit?”
“What was that, Miss Strader?”
Not realizing she had spoken out loud, she looked up from her table to see a young Irish family standing in front of her; parents couldn’t have been much older than her, and two little girls, maybe seven and eight, wearing the new CFH OCW t-shirts, and holding onto a stuffed Tamika and a stuffed Meghan from an old PWA toy-line. The right corner of Tamika’s mouth lifts into a smile, leaning forward to extend her arms, palms out of the kids to take hold of, and they don’t hesitate.
“Look at you two sweet lil’lasses! What’re your names, girls?”
“Amanda!”
“Shantal!”
“Such beautiful names! Are you big wrasslin fans?”
“They are the biggest Miss Strader. We don’t let them watch everything on the shows, but we know they can watch you both!”
Tamika winks at the kids and pulls her hands back, grabbing a couple of shirts from under the table.
“Miss Strader is my Auntie Vanessa, just call me Tamika, but call me late, and you are probably right!”
“Tamika, we are really happy you picked the Craze title to try for! We know you can do it!”
“CFH is cool and all, but we know you are gonna be great!!!”
Tamika gives a bashful look and slides two ‘Tamika Strader’ t-shirts to them that she signed “To the Future Cowgirls, love Meeks” with her signature underneath. The kids are glowing.
“I was going to say it’s too bad Megz isn’t here, but I’ll take all this love you have and use it to win that Craze Championship. Does that sound like a deal to you two Cowgirls?" She asks, sliding forward on the table, making a silly face ending it with a smile and quick wink.
“DEAL!”
“PARTNA!”
“How much for the shirts, Tamika?”
The Cowgirl waves her hand and shakes her head.
“On me. Alimony is a wonderful thing.”
The wife laughs, the husband? Not so much. Tamika waves bye to the girls as they walk off onto another booth. The next few hours went by pretty fast, and the theme was she made the right call choosing herself. She found herself after the signing event at an old hole-in-the-wall pub called The Crown and Turtle with a glass of single malt scotch, neat, that twirls between her fingers on the table. Her leather jacket lays across her denim-clad legs. Her boot-wearing feet have the right amount of space to cross over one another and tap away as her feet just seemed to do that. She watches people coming in and out, feeling like she needs a translator to understand the drunken Irishmen singing at the piano and the lasses telling off the old drunks that can’t get it up, but that’s ok, they could always be “Chronic Arthritis.”
The room-temperature single malt is almost pungent in flavour and taste but smooths out as her Strader whiskey-lovin’ tongue takes in the likes of the nuts, oats, and the old cask it was aged in. Her eyes close gently with satisfaction, and a moan leaves her soft pink lips.
“You would’ve liked this one, daddy,” she says, looking up at first but then looking at the ground, knowing that was most likely his landing destination when he left this earthly plane.
“Fathers. It’s kind of crazy to think how just one person can shape an entire family for generations like my daddy did to all of us, even if I am the only child of Scott Nash Strader not to have their babies hidden from them… I mean, at least I hope so; otherwise, that’s a storyline right out of All My Children!”
“Or was it the Young and the Restless? No, that’s about fashion tycoons. Oh well, whatever. My point! Fathers can either be the greatest influence on a child, usually a boy but not always, can have or create monsters or hookers(tough economy) if they aren't careful. My “lil’bruh” John-Boy Stradaaa followed right in his footsteps with the MC thing, this time next year, when he’s 33 deciding to start his career for real this time, the circle of life will be complete for them,” she remarks as she uses her glass of scotch to trace a circle in the air in front of her.
“My big sister, she had her own issues with that, and they were deeply rooted in hate; I am not sure if they ever would’ve been ok, but I know how much it would’ve meant to her if they could’ve kept trying.”
“Then you got me! I am the best sibling tho! Me and my pops had a good relationship, he never screwed me over, and he always took my lashings for his actions against Megz, Victoria and Cara like a man. I miss my daddy, but I can’t help but feel like he wants me to do this for myself… from beyond the grave. Or like Dr. Challis calling his ex-wife to cancel plans with his kids for Miller High Life and a sexy brunette lady. You know, either-or,” she says with her bratty smirk and shrug, knowing that didn’t relate at all.
“I have always been a tag team girl, and no, not that kind Hood, and I have never really given singles a thought since a failed experiment where I walked away barely batting .500. It’s just never been for me, and I love working with my sister. John was a great tag partner when he showed up, but Megz has never once let me down.”
She looks back down at her glass and sees she has drunk it all. She lifts her hand casually from her corner booth, motioning politely for a refill. She’s a descendant of the South and Canada raised in Japan; she is polite. When her drink is refilled, she gives the server the money, and it is probably way too much, but her brain doesn’t compute Euros very well.
“Then inside that pyramid, something triggered me, not in a Karen way, but it was like the wrasslin’ gods, and my dear ol’pappy were allowing me to try something. If I am being razor straight with everyone, my mind was already made up before I put pen to paper and left The Great Illuminatus.”
“I know, it’s crazy I decided to choose me for once, isn’t it?”
She stops and huffs softly.
“I don’t want people to get it wrong, I love being who I am. Sometimes I get burned by it, but just because I am choosing me doesn’t mean I won’t be who I always have been, but after twelve years, I have earned the right to a “What if?” haven’t ?” she asks followed by a sniff and taste of her scotch.
“The Pyramid, where the magic happened, when I defeated Dangy Dan once again in our storied careers, just in different companies with a whole new pile of Vaughn, did I use that right? Anyway, but I wasn’t going to keep going without Megz.”
“Now did we get somewhat jacked out of a tag team title shot? Yeah, we did. No question. I know we said no special treatment, but Allahdamnit, that’s a little much. Sure it was made known the option to trade in my Craze shot, but that just circles us all the way back to the beginning where I knew I was gonna take it.”
“So here I am, in a singles match for a championship and opening the show where my niece is second to last on the card. Times have changed, and they continue to do that.”
“I want this. I can’t believe that I’m stepping foot in the ring to compete for gold I don’t have to share with anyone at this stage in the game. That’s a brand new concept for me. It’s like going from DOS to Windows Millennium and realizing you wish you still had Windows 98. Ok, maybe it’s nothing like that, but it’s different.”
“I haven’t been this excited since me and Meghan won our first tag straps here in Ireland, 12 years ago in April, and here I am doing it alone. Unreal.”
She sighs and takes another drink, savouring the natural warmth of her whiskey.
“I have told you what makes me different from my siblings and whatnot, but the one thing that drives each and every one of us Straders is we love this sport. We grew up in it from the cradle and love every bit of it. Even the Vaughn times eventually lead to good times. Sure we do other things to occupy the time as we don’t wrestle three times a week for four different companies anymore, but when we do, our only goal is to win.”
“I mean, I am not French and going to head to war with one gun between two soldiers unless I know I can win. This is my shot. I gotta take it. If I fail?”
“Well, I fail, and I go back to business like the professional I am, but if I win… Well, Roachy, you’ll be the challenger I beat in front of millions of viewers for the Craze title.”
She takes a healthy gulp finishing her whiskey, and wipes the corner of her mouth.
“Now I know you are all thinking here comes some violent crazy-ass God forgives Yahweh doesn’t, but I promise you aren’t ready for how hard this is gonna drop or how hard it will hit….”
She looks down, takes a deep breath and looks back up. That same fucking sneer they all seem to have has crept across her face. Do they all practice together?
“Rubber buggy baby bumpers!”
She makes her best toasting motion like Leo from Wolf of Wall Street as she orders another round.
“Who ya yappin’ to Luv?”
“Nacho.”
“Nacho?”
“Nacho business.”
Fucking Americans is going through the Irish lady's head, but that was only half true. The woman shakes her head and leaves the Cowgirl to her whiskey river.
