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Brodie Lee puts the finishing touches on his plate of pulled pork and mashed potatoes. "They sure know how to cook a pig in Tennessee, not like those bastards in Springfield. Now there's a shit hole if I've ever been in one", Lee looks around at some of the patrons, more than once catching someones gaze. "But that aint what you want to hear right? You want to hear about me and why I love hearing bones snap." Lee is in rare form after finishing up his dinner. He may be boastful at times, but after you cut through the fat, and get right down to the matters at hand, he's brutally honest. "There aint no big reveal, no clouds lifting to reveal some sunshiney day, it's a sound I've come to enjoy over the years, it's music to my ears when some sorry sap's bones crackle underneath my weight. Everywhere I go, they got a bunch of pip squeaks running around, doing a bunch of talking. When I roll up into town it gets real quiet like." Some of the patrons in the diner begin to stir a bit uneasily when the cadence in the tone of Lee's voice becomes louder and breaks through the silence. "Like right here tonight, after I drop my load, I might just check out and see what kinda wrestling matches they got around here, and maybe I just might have to lay someone out. That's if I feel like it."

The Big Rig, that's the handle of a man who stands some 6'7" tall, and tips the scales at a lean and mean 280 lbs. Brodie Lee didn't get that name by accident. He's made it a point of being the biggest man in any territory he's decided to hang his collar on. Whether it's Chikara, NWA Upstate, EVOLVE, CZW, ROH, it doesn't matter- Lee will stand head and shoulders over any and all. "That's why I love this business. I could of done anything in the world I wanted. In highschool, agents and scouts were tripping all over themselves to talk to me. One jackass showed up in gym class with a Volkswagon and handed me the keys. Basketball, baseball, football, all that meant nothing to me. I learned at an early age about the satisfaction of hearing another man beg for mercy. I wasn't going to get that on a football field, or a basketball court. I played a lot of hockey, and loved it. Gave me great agility, and satisfied a bit of the hunger to smash another human being senseless. But for me, there's only one sport that I can do my thing, and that's professional wrestling."

If Lee is content with hearing bones snap and cries for mercy, he has indeed found the right profession. His running kick to the head is the usual suspect when it comes to ending careers and putting men in the hospital. "That's what the 'Big Rig' is all about. I get that momentum going and raise that size 15 and wham! plant that sucker right on the noggin. That usually does the trick."

The sight of Lee's big boot coming your way almost surely resembles an eighteen wheeler bearing down your direction. That may be why some opponents get lost in the headlights. "Sometimes it's like you can't even get out of it's way. And when it hits, that thing can break your jaw in six different spots", claimed one man on the Chikara roster who asked to remain annonymous. "I've had the misfortune of stepping into that boot, and it's not pleasant. A couple of teeth were knocked loose and I was eating soup for a month. Lee is dangerous, but that boot to the head is down right scary."

Lee loves to hear talk like this, he derives great joy in soliciting fear from his opponents. In fact, on most occasions, he's defeated his opponent before the bell has even rung to open the match. "A lot of people are intimidated by my size," Lee went on, "They got that right, but while they're worrying about how big I am, they shouldn't be forgetting that when I get in that ring, I'm like an uncaged animal. If I were half this size I'd still be a deadly force to reckon with. I got one thing on my mind, and only one way to get it off, and that's to hurt something, and real bad." With this statement, the gentlemen in the booth beside us quckly gather their coats and hats, and exit the diner. Lee notices, and broadly smiles. There's something about Lee's smile that's terrifying, yet by the same token, charming as well. He's an interesting character to say the least.

"I get that a lot. People leaving abruptly. I don't have a whole lot of people that want to hang around me for too long a time. Just like when I'm on the road, people get out of my way." What happens when people don't, I ask him. "Oh that's not a smart thing to do," and then that smile appears again, gleaming through like a fox over a hen house. "I'm gonna' have my way."

Now Lee has found himself in the EVOLVE promotion, and a bit out of place of sorts. The people behind EVOLVE are establishing a league based on competition. It's a promotion where W's are the rule and never the exception, and anything else won't get you very far. For a man like Lee, who's win/loss record won't reflect the agony an opponent might feel the following day, it's not obvious where his intentions lay. "I just want to shake things up a bit for those purist bullshit crybabies, that's all. I'm starting to tire of hearing that Lee is only good for hurting folks. It might be time that I have to do something big." So far, he's been unsuccessful. 0-1, with a loss against the much smaller Gran Akuma.

 

 

It looks like the man from Lincoln Nebraska by means of Rochester NY, may be looking forward to a second opportunity with EVOLVE. Surely he wasn't happy with his performance during his singles division debut against Akuma. Lee realizes now that he underestimated the level of competition in his opponent on that night. "I still can't believe that little bastard beat me," Lee lamented as his demeanor changed, "he was quick, cagey like." Lee will find that most of the the wrestlers on the EVOLVE roster have those common traits. He'll also find that they are more likely to be interested in winning then having their bones broken, and that in order to compete and be successful, he may have to alter his style.

"You bet your ass I want another shot there", when asked about the upcoming EVOLVE event on May 1st. "Everybody on the road knows that Brodie Lee likes to fight. That aint changed for a minute. But I aint a loser either, that loss there might have some people thinking that way, and I won't have it. There's no reason I can't kick someone's head off and win a match at the same time if I set my mind to it."

The Big Rig isn't just talking about dropping off a load in Rahway New Jersey, he's talking about picking one up as well. Maybe taking his career to that higher road, to the next level. A man of Lee's size almost guarentees success on the independent level. He thinks it's his time to cash in his chips and get serious. "I should be the top man on the mountain everywhere I go. All the places I've been, there's only a few men that match up to me in size and strength. It's time to get serious and get some winning done."

Lee can be an angry individual, just ask some of the men that had the misfortune of being accross the ring with him on any given night. Of all the talk, all of the threats of punishment, all of the assertions of inflicting pain may ring true, but Brodie Lee is coming to the understanding that if he doesn't want to be remembered as just a brawler, he's going to have to focus on the more serious aspects of his game. "It's time to step up and take charge. From what I seen, more wins equal more green. I aint gonna be on the road forever, so it's time to put the big rig in high gear and get to where I'm going."

As we get ready to leave the diner, and pay the tab, Lee looks around and sees empty seats. "I sure know how to empty a joint don't I?" he asks. Maybe not for long.

 

 

 

 

 

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