Post by Exigent Contact on Jul 28, 2009 3:57:28 GMT -5
Name: Andy Fredo Castellano
Alias: Bear Jaw
Gender: Male
Age: 54, born May 14th, 1955.
Race: Caucasian, Italian American
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: Loose Catholic
Hometown: Bronx, New York
Current Residence: Rosewood's Downtown area
Occupation: Formerly professional wrestler, currently bartender, chef.
Height: 6'4''
Weight : 340 lbs.
Body Type: Bulky, paunchy and tough. Despite having gained a doughy, leathery appearance since his glory days, he can still knock out a bull with a good hook.
Skin: Tanned to the point of permanent burn, covered in various liver spots.
Eyes: Icy blue, but not of the unkind type.
Hair: White and balding.
Physical Description: His arms are built like iron pistons and work twice as strong, they say. While he has built quite a gut, he's lost only some of his original speed, mostly thanks to regular training. While he does a look on the obese side, no one on the smart side of town would pick a fight with him alone.
Personality: Loud and somewhat obnoxious, but ultimately caring and likable. Has a bit of a joker in him, but usually toward more cynical types of humor, and despite his personality and appearance, is great with kids. It is to this end that he is the honorary JV wrestling coach of the boarding school.
Likes: Italian food, American food and good company. A very easy to please man, if you will.
Dislikes: Being reminded of his past and how he'll likely never attain that glory again, beer(hated it since he was a kid) and never saw a big point to that whole reading game, the asylum up north of town.
Fears: His past coming to haunt him, snakes and rats.
Family: His parents died several years ago, not many months away from each other. His brother lives somewhere in Rhode Island as a general contractor. They haven't spoken more than a sentence to each other for at least ten years.
History: Born May 14th, 1955, Andy Castellano was a relatively normal boy. He had was of an average middle class family in an average part of Bronx. He was overweight in his youth, due to his mother fearing for his health a little too much, forcing him to overeat to maintain her vision of healthiness-that didn't help his father's already flagging weight, either. By the time he was twelve, he was almost morbidly obese, and fought his weight down through sheer will. By his fifteenth birthday, he was two heads taller than anyone in his class, and still much heavier, but this time proportionally so. He performed well in sports, starting with football and moving his way to wrestling. This was where he truly shined, and by the time he rolled into college, he had several sports scholarships pegging him down. After a successful four years in college and a car accident that would ruin his capability for an amateur wrestling run, he turned to pro wrestling.
Twenty four and even bulkier, Andy Castellano made his way into the ring for the first time, proving to be a natural for the show, the sport. He was immediately booked for several shows and proved to be a big hit: his huge size and technical skill melded together to create a behemoth in the ring that was as much a spring loaded trap as an offensive king. This led to his booker calling him the "Bear Trap," but Andy thought that was inhumane, and he referred to himself as "Bear Jaw." His newly humane (and more animalistic) title would become the one that his fans remembered, and eventually the one his tavern bore.
Wrestling was Andy's greatest asset, and for years in the 80s he was a powerhouse name. By the time the industry was hitting big in the 80s, Bear Jaw was a household name. Within his decade long career, he held the NWA title six times and was nearly on the level of recognition of huge names such as Sting and Ric Flair. Then, by the end of the 90s, Bear Jaw disappeared. His quiet, smiling persona that carried not a charisma by voice, but by mere presence, disappeared. The industry moved on without him, and he without it.
Gone were the million dollar contracts, show fees, interviews, constant movement, publicity, pain and and anguish (physical and mental) that came with the business. He could finally live his life without being called a hack or a faker or a monster or abuser or a freak. He settled down on his laurels (better than nine million dollars, due to his lifetime habit of frugality), living a simple life without frets in beautiful Rosewood.
Whether or not he'll come to regret that choice too, remains to be seen.
Strengths: Physically imposing and powerful.
Weaknesses: Years of putting on the act has worn down every muscle in his body. He suffers from arthritis and various other pains.
Extra Information: Six time World Heavyweight Champion. Donates to children's funds annually.
Sample Post : You don't run the gauntlet of pro wrestling and not feel it after the years. You don't climb to the top without you getting your scars. You don't hit the top without expecting to hit the ground. Simple common sense that others in Andy "Bear Jaw" Castellano's life and career had ignored. He saw his self through the roughest patches in the business and was really not that much worse for it. That we was grateful for. He was grateful that he wasn't an Owen Hart, a Curt Hennig or even-Jesus Christ almighty- a Chris Benoit. He might've been divorced three times, but at least he still had his health, mentally and mostly physically.
The days of Bear Jaw had come and gone, and now Andy paid no mind to whatever lip he got, servicing or derogatory. It just wasn't worth it. He could just as easily be Bear to his older patrons who grew up watching him, or he could be good ol' Uncle Andy for the kids coming in for pizza, only dimly aware of Bear Jaw, six time World Heavyweight Champion. Yes, he did rather love this town. No interviews, no publicity, no business other than his eponymous tavern, the only one in town. Alcohol to those legal and food so greasy it shouldn't have been legal to everybody else. He felt good that his life had transitioned so smoothly.
What didn't feel good were the aches that decided to hammer him as he attempted to get out of bed. Too many high spots, he thought. Never did perfect my somersault. Shoulda never tried that for the NWA show back in '78. And despite his somersault being deeply flawed, the Masticator put the butts in the seats. People paid for that heinous flip done by a man so big he looked like he would break the turnbuckle before his feet stepped to the bottom rope. That was his youth. People paid good money for big guys doing high spots, and Andy figured his body could take one for the team for that extra dough, aye? Now he regretted it deeply. His back never really got injured, it was just years of accidents accumulating, and now he just hurt. He really liked to blame the Masticator, but really, it was one of the safer moves in his top-rope repertoire. With an ugly grunt, he shook his head and forced the memories out of him, and forced himself outta bed.
Jenny was already serving breakfast. Good girl she was. Sweet and naive and had a perfect little ass, too. Andy could have had her, but decided against it. He wasn't a complete pig. He just looked like one, sometimes. Ever since he had saved her from that mugging back in '05, she had been trailing him. She was nearly thirty years his junior though, and that didn't feel right, as tempted as he was on some nights. For that, he always had the prostitutes. Ugly business, but God help him if it didn't relieve the lust.
"Breakfast's ready, Mr. Castellano," she said with a wry smile, her thick lips pressing into an almost-thin line. "Now I just gotta get these townies theirs."
The townies were loyal customers of his. Local trucker boys, cowboys, college kids, heck, even sick kids (who didn't love Bear Jaw's remedial chicken soup, after all?), he had seen practically everyone uptown and downtown. He liked it, his business, and he adored a world where people didn't pester him, but still enjoyed his company. Yep, being a chef for a two-bit restaurant in the middle of nowhere was good making. Didn't hurt that your waitress was a hot tamale all on her own and you owned the place. He smiled deeply before digging into his western omelet-his absolute favorite. Coffee, two creams, two sugars and wheat toast. After this, he would jog, say hi to the Peters, maybe. Then when it was lunch time, he'd wrap around back and start his famous chili. Kids loved the chili, and really, so did he.
Today was a good day, because his problems weren't bothering him. Not yet, at least.
Alias: Bear Jaw
Gender: Male
Age: 54, born May 14th, 1955.
Race: Caucasian, Italian American
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Religion: Loose Catholic
Hometown: Bronx, New York
Current Residence: Rosewood's Downtown area
Occupation: Formerly professional wrestler, currently bartender, chef.
Height: 6'4''
Weight : 340 lbs.
Body Type: Bulky, paunchy and tough. Despite having gained a doughy, leathery appearance since his glory days, he can still knock out a bull with a good hook.
Skin: Tanned to the point of permanent burn, covered in various liver spots.
Eyes: Icy blue, but not of the unkind type.
Hair: White and balding.
Physical Description: His arms are built like iron pistons and work twice as strong, they say. While he has built quite a gut, he's lost only some of his original speed, mostly thanks to regular training. While he does a look on the obese side, no one on the smart side of town would pick a fight with him alone.
Personality: Loud and somewhat obnoxious, but ultimately caring and likable. Has a bit of a joker in him, but usually toward more cynical types of humor, and despite his personality and appearance, is great with kids. It is to this end that he is the honorary JV wrestling coach of the boarding school.
Likes: Italian food, American food and good company. A very easy to please man, if you will.
Dislikes: Being reminded of his past and how he'll likely never attain that glory again, beer(hated it since he was a kid) and never saw a big point to that whole reading game, the asylum up north of town.
Fears: His past coming to haunt him, snakes and rats.
Family: His parents died several years ago, not many months away from each other. His brother lives somewhere in Rhode Island as a general contractor. They haven't spoken more than a sentence to each other for at least ten years.
History: Born May 14th, 1955, Andy Castellano was a relatively normal boy. He had was of an average middle class family in an average part of Bronx. He was overweight in his youth, due to his mother fearing for his health a little too much, forcing him to overeat to maintain her vision of healthiness-that didn't help his father's already flagging weight, either. By the time he was twelve, he was almost morbidly obese, and fought his weight down through sheer will. By his fifteenth birthday, he was two heads taller than anyone in his class, and still much heavier, but this time proportionally so. He performed well in sports, starting with football and moving his way to wrestling. This was where he truly shined, and by the time he rolled into college, he had several sports scholarships pegging him down. After a successful four years in college and a car accident that would ruin his capability for an amateur wrestling run, he turned to pro wrestling.
Twenty four and even bulkier, Andy Castellano made his way into the ring for the first time, proving to be a natural for the show, the sport. He was immediately booked for several shows and proved to be a big hit: his huge size and technical skill melded together to create a behemoth in the ring that was as much a spring loaded trap as an offensive king. This led to his booker calling him the "Bear Trap," but Andy thought that was inhumane, and he referred to himself as "Bear Jaw." His newly humane (and more animalistic) title would become the one that his fans remembered, and eventually the one his tavern bore.
Wrestling was Andy's greatest asset, and for years in the 80s he was a powerhouse name. By the time the industry was hitting big in the 80s, Bear Jaw was a household name. Within his decade long career, he held the NWA title six times and was nearly on the level of recognition of huge names such as Sting and Ric Flair. Then, by the end of the 90s, Bear Jaw disappeared. His quiet, smiling persona that carried not a charisma by voice, but by mere presence, disappeared. The industry moved on without him, and he without it.
Gone were the million dollar contracts, show fees, interviews, constant movement, publicity, pain and and anguish (physical and mental) that came with the business. He could finally live his life without being called a hack or a faker or a monster or abuser or a freak. He settled down on his laurels (better than nine million dollars, due to his lifetime habit of frugality), living a simple life without frets in beautiful Rosewood.
Whether or not he'll come to regret that choice too, remains to be seen.
Strengths: Physically imposing and powerful.
Weaknesses: Years of putting on the act has worn down every muscle in his body. He suffers from arthritis and various other pains.
Extra Information: Six time World Heavyweight Champion. Donates to children's funds annually.
Sample Post : You don't run the gauntlet of pro wrestling and not feel it after the years. You don't climb to the top without you getting your scars. You don't hit the top without expecting to hit the ground. Simple common sense that others in Andy "Bear Jaw" Castellano's life and career had ignored. He saw his self through the roughest patches in the business and was really not that much worse for it. That we was grateful for. He was grateful that he wasn't an Owen Hart, a Curt Hennig or even-Jesus Christ almighty- a Chris Benoit. He might've been divorced three times, but at least he still had his health, mentally and mostly physically.
The days of Bear Jaw had come and gone, and now Andy paid no mind to whatever lip he got, servicing or derogatory. It just wasn't worth it. He could just as easily be Bear to his older patrons who grew up watching him, or he could be good ol' Uncle Andy for the kids coming in for pizza, only dimly aware of Bear Jaw, six time World Heavyweight Champion. Yes, he did rather love this town. No interviews, no publicity, no business other than his eponymous tavern, the only one in town. Alcohol to those legal and food so greasy it shouldn't have been legal to everybody else. He felt good that his life had transitioned so smoothly.
What didn't feel good were the aches that decided to hammer him as he attempted to get out of bed. Too many high spots, he thought. Never did perfect my somersault. Shoulda never tried that for the NWA show back in '78. And despite his somersault being deeply flawed, the Masticator put the butts in the seats. People paid for that heinous flip done by a man so big he looked like he would break the turnbuckle before his feet stepped to the bottom rope. That was his youth. People paid good money for big guys doing high spots, and Andy figured his body could take one for the team for that extra dough, aye? Now he regretted it deeply. His back never really got injured, it was just years of accidents accumulating, and now he just hurt. He really liked to blame the Masticator, but really, it was one of the safer moves in his top-rope repertoire. With an ugly grunt, he shook his head and forced the memories out of him, and forced himself outta bed.
Jenny was already serving breakfast. Good girl she was. Sweet and naive and had a perfect little ass, too. Andy could have had her, but decided against it. He wasn't a complete pig. He just looked like one, sometimes. Ever since he had saved her from that mugging back in '05, she had been trailing him. She was nearly thirty years his junior though, and that didn't feel right, as tempted as he was on some nights. For that, he always had the prostitutes. Ugly business, but God help him if it didn't relieve the lust.
"Breakfast's ready, Mr. Castellano," she said with a wry smile, her thick lips pressing into an almost-thin line. "Now I just gotta get these townies theirs."
The townies were loyal customers of his. Local trucker boys, cowboys, college kids, heck, even sick kids (who didn't love Bear Jaw's remedial chicken soup, after all?), he had seen practically everyone uptown and downtown. He liked it, his business, and he adored a world where people didn't pester him, but still enjoyed his company. Yep, being a chef for a two-bit restaurant in the middle of nowhere was good making. Didn't hurt that your waitress was a hot tamale all on her own and you owned the place. He smiled deeply before digging into his western omelet-his absolute favorite. Coffee, two creams, two sugars and wheat toast. After this, he would jog, say hi to the Peters, maybe. Then when it was lunch time, he'd wrap around back and start his famous chili. Kids loved the chili, and really, so did he.
Today was a good day, because his problems weren't bothering him. Not yet, at least.