8. Dusty Rhodes & FCW Tryout

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Over the next week, Sandro doubled down on his training. He worked on his wrestling techniques, Aikido training, Taekwondo training, his endurance, and his mental focus. He wanted to be ready for anything that IRS might throw at him. He also spent time preparing a portfolio that showcased his wrestling achievements, and when the day arrived he had a flight toward Brooksville to meet with IRS.

When he landed in Brooksville, Sandro turned on his phone and saw two missed calls from his mother. He immediately called her back to let her know he had arrived safely and was on his way out of the airport.

As he spoke with his mother, he was pleasantly surprised to see IRS and Blackjack Mulligan waiting for him beside a Toyota Corolla. They waved at him, and he returned the wave. He quickly told his mother he had to go, ended the call with an "I love you too," and headed toward the two wrestling legends.

"Mr. Rotunda, Mr. Mulligan, you really didn't have to go through the trouble of picking me up," Sandro said, shaking their hands. "I could have just ordered a taxi."

IRS shook his head. "Nonsense, Sandro. You're a friend of Windham's, and as his father and your host, it's my duty to pick you up. Besides, when my father in law heard what we were doing, he insisted on joining us."

Blackjack Mulligan chuckled. "I wanted to see you in action young man. Lawrence mentioned he was taking you to the wrestling school near our home for a little tryout, and as a much senior wrestler than him of course I have to join in haha."

Without further ado, the three of them boarded the car and headed toward the wrestling school. The 45-minute ride was filled with lively conversation about wrestling, their experiences, and the current state of the industry. Sandro soaked in every word, feeling both nervous and excited about the opportunity ahead.

Upon arriving at the wrestling school, IRS and Blackjack Mulligan greeted a middle-aged man in his forties. "Hey, Bob," IRS said. "We need to borrow your ring for a few days. We've got a talented kid here we want to see in action."

Bob nodded, recognizing the gravitas of IRS's request. "No problem, Lawrence. Take it for as long as you need. We don't have any students to train right now anyway, business has been slow."

Sandro looked around the gym, taking in the sight of the ring, the equipment, and the posters of famous wrestlers that adorned the walls where there were IRS and Blackjack Mulligan's posters as well. This was a place where dreams were forged, and he felt a rush of determination.

IRS turned to Sandro. "Alright, Sandro. Show us what you've got. Warm up, and then we'll get started with some basic moves, I'm sure you know how to at least do the ropes and basic moves such as suplexs and submissions."

Sandro nodded, changing into his workout gear and heading to the ring. He started with some stretching and light exercises to get his muscles ready. IRS and Blackjack Mulligan watched him closely, assessing his form and technique.

After warming up, Sandro stepped into the ring. IRS joined him, and they began with some fundamental moves every wrestler needs to know submissions, lockups, takedowns, and grappling techniques. Sandro's movements were fluid and precise, showcasing his years of training and natural talent.

"Good, Sandro," IRS said, nodding approvingly. "Let's see how you handle some more advanced moves, let's do a series of combinations and test your strength."

They moved on to more complex maneuvers, with Sandro executing each one with confidence and skill. Blackjack Mulligan observed from ringside, occasionally offering tips and advice. Sandro appreciated the constructive feedback, knowing it was coming from seasoned professionals who had seen it all.

As the session progressed, Sandro's confidence grew. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing he was proving himself to these legends. He executed a flawless suplex, followed by a series of crisp arm drags and hip tosses.

He also tried to do a powerbomb which he executed flawlessly after a couple of tries, of course he also tried his best to ensure that IRS didn't take a heavy bump even though they had padding across the ring to lessen the impact.

IRS and Blackjack Mulligan also teach him how to run the ropes much easier and fluidly, because Sandro's movements are still a bit rusty. They also show him how to take work bumps, work punches, and work kicks.

After a rigorous workout, IRS called for a break. "You're doing great, Sandro. Let's take five."

Sandro stepped out of the ring, catching his breath and sipping some water. IRS and Blackjack Mulligan huddled together, discussing what they had seen.

"He's got the skills," IRS said. "He's sharp, focused, and he's got the right attitude. What do you think, father?"

Blackjack Mulligan nodded. "I agree. He's got potential. Let's push him a bit more and see how he handles it."

They returned to the ring, and IRS addressed Sandro. "We're going to push you a bit harder now, Sandro. We want to see how you handle pressure and fatigue."

Sandro nodded, ready for the challenge. They ran through a series of grueling drills, testing his endurance and mental toughness. Despite the physical toll, Sandro remained focused, determined to give it his all.

Finally, after what felt like hours, IRS called an end to the session. "That's enough for today. You've done well, Sandro."

Sandro, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, stepped out of the ring. "Thank you, Mr. Rotunda, Mr. Mulligan. I appreciate the opportunity."

IRS clapped him on the shoulder. "You've got what it takes, Sandro. If you can keep this up for the next several days, honing some of the basic skills with us, I'm going to make that call to Dusty Rhodes. So that he could see this for himself."

Blackjack Mulligan smiled. "You've impressed us, kid. Keep up the hard work, and you'll go far."

Feeling a mixture of exhaustion and elation, Sandro thanked them both again. He knew this was just the beginning of his journey, but today had been a significant step toward his dream.

As they left the wrestling school, IRS turned to Sandro. "Okay, this is all for today Sandro, Sandro. Rest up, and be ready for tomorrow. We would be honing your craft in a speed course, at least mastering the basics so that Dusty will take the chance in taking you in."

Sandro nodded, a sense of determination burning within him. He was ready for whatever came next. This was his path, and he was going to walk it with everything he had.

Several days passed by in a blur for Sandro, whose routine was waking up, showering, having breakfast, going to the wrestling school, training with IRS and Blackjack Mulligan, returning to the hotel, showering, having dinner, and sleeping, then repeating.

During this intense training period, IRS and Blackjack Mulligan were very impressed with Sandro's rapid progress. He showed more improvement in days than many wrestlers they had known managed in months or even years.

Sandro could execute the basics flawlessly and handle some complex moves and combinations with ease. They trained not only in move sets but also in ring psychology, how to cut effective promos, carry himself, and maintain ring awareness, paying attention to his surroundings. Sandro absorbed everything like a sponge, and his passion and dedication were evident in every session.

Each day, Sandro also sparred with IRS and Blackjack Mulligan. Despite their age, they still had an edge in skill and experience, often manhandling him. Sandro, while capable of overpowering them physically, chose to soak up the invaluable lessons in technique and strategy, never breaking out of holds too soon to maximize his learning.

Feeling that Sandro was ready, IRS made a call to Dusty Rhodes. "Hey, Dusty. It's Lawrence. I've got a very talented kid under me who I think you should see, I think he's a great addition to FCW."

Dusty, surprised by the call, was even more astonished to hear that his old friend was training someone other than his own children. "Lawrence, you training someone? That's a surprise I never thought I would hear. How come?"

IRS explained how his son Windham was friends with Sandro and how the young man's talent and understanding of the business were some of the best he'd ever seen, especially at such a young age. "He's impressed me and even my father-in-law, Blackjack."

Hearing that even Blackjack Mulligan was impressed which wasn't an easy feat, piqued Dusty's interest. "Alright, Lawrence. You've got my attention. Bring him over to FCW headquarters in Tampa next week, Tuesday. Let's see what this kid's got, if he is as good as what you have just said I will discuss this with Steve and offer him a training contract."

In the evening, after a particularly intense session, IRS pulled Sandro aside. "You've impressed us beyond expectations, Sandro. You're ready for the next step. I've called Dusty, and he's agreed to give you a tryout for FCW next week."

Sandro's heart raced with excitement. "Thank you, Mr. Rotunda. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," IRS said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just keep doing what you're doing. Dusty and Steve are going to see something special in you."

The following week, Sandro, IRS, and Blackjack Mulligan arrived at FCW headquarters in Tampa. Sandro of course had informed his parents about everything that's been happening since day one of his training, knowing that their son was having to do a tryout they encouraged him a lot.

Inside the FCW facility, they were greeted by Dusty Rhodes and someone in his forties that Sandro didn't know. "Lawrence, Blackjack, good to see you both, it's been so long, Umph," he said, shaking their hands warmly. "And you must be Sandro. I've heard a lot about kid, impressing both Lawrence and Blackjack."

"Thank you, Mr. Rhodes. It's an honor to meet you, I'm a big fan of you growing up," Sandro replied, shaking Dusty's hand firmly.

Dusty smiled as he shook Sandro's hand. "Good to finally meet you, Sandro. Oh yeah, everyone, this is Steve Keirn, the owner and founder of FCW and also my immediate boss."

Steve Keirn shook his head at Dusty's tone, recognizing his friend's unique way of introducing people. "Hello everyone, I'm Steve Keirn. Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Mulligan. And of course, you as well, Sandro. Go get changed and show me and Dusty what Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Mulligan have been working on with you."

Sandro quickly changed into his gear and stepped into the ring. Dusty and Steve watched intently as Sandro ran through the drills he had practiced so diligently. He performed lock-ups, takedowns, suplexes, submissions, and a variety of combinations with precision and flair. His movements were fluid and confident, a testament to his rigorous training. The two of them nodded approvingly.

"Alright, Sandro. Let's see how you handle some improvisation. Lawrence, you mind getting in the ring?" Dusty said, and IRS stepped into the ring, and the two began a sparring session.

Sandro was agile and quick, countering IRS's moves with skill and finesse. He showcased his ability to think on his feet, adapting to the unexpected challenges that IRS threw at him. After a grueling session, Dusty called for a halt.

"That's enough. Sandro, you've got something special. You've got the fundamentals down, and you've got the heart. But there's more to wrestling than just moves. Can you cut a promo for me? Tell me why you want to be here at FCW."

Sandro took a deep breath, stepping forward. He channeled all the emotions and experiences that had brought him to this point. "My name is Sandro, and wrestling isn't just a sport to me it's a passion, a dream that I've had since I was a kid! I've trained hard, fought harder, and every step of the way, I've been driven by the desire to make a name for myself in this industry. I respect the legends who paved the way, and I'm here to prove that I belong. FCW is the next step in my journey, and I promise to give it everything I have. I won't just be another wrestler I'll be the best there is to ever grace this ring, and nobody could stop me from rising to the top."

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Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 18 (2008)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA

Brand: None

Wrestling Style: None

Faction: None

Championship History: 0