Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2012 0:34:32 GMT -5
Part I: The Message
I've been back now for just over two weeks, and despite the fact that I've only wrestled the one match at XIII in that time period, I've already given the WCF two moments that will be remembered for the rest of 2012. For the rest of this year when people think back to One, the biggest show of the year, they're going to remember the image of Jay Price planting Torture face first on the mat. Titles, even World Titles, change every month like it were nothing. Wrestlers, big name or no name, come and go through the doors without the slightest of acknowledgment. Oh, but the moments...they live on forever. They live on in the back of the mind of every true fan and are then passed on to the next generation. They live on in this digital media age where all it takes is the move of a mouse and the click of a button to relive the classics. They live on because they are the only true indestructible thing in this world we live in.
And that's the problem with this new generation of talent that we're being "blessed" with. Each of them have the talent, that's not questionable, but their egos, whether they be blatant or not, have their minds polluted with this idea that the only measure of success is what they can put down on their resumes. Every other word out of their mouths is "title this" and "title that". None of them take pride in their work any more, only in what they can claim in victory. Am I a hypocrite? In my early days, I was. I followed, and perhaps even helped to blaze, the same path that each member of this new generation is following. All I ever wanted back then was to be thrown into the high profile matches and to wrap as much gold around my waist as I could. I could have cared less about the shows I was putting on, or what the fans wanted to see. All I wanted was to see my arm raised in victory and to hear the words "And your winner is..." followed by my name. And yes, I do still want those things today, but I've grown and matured to the point that I now realize that all of the material possessions, like titles and trophies, and all of the victories written in the record books don't mean a thing. Plenty of people have come into the business and won matches and titles, but how many of them can you actually name? Can you name every person who's won the World Title without having to click on over onto Google? Can you tell me who's won the most matches in their WCF career without going over to Wikipedia? No. And why is that? Because people don't remember the champions and the victors years after they've passed, they only remember the moments that live on forever.
They remember when Hector Rodriguez ripped off his mask to realize that it was Gravedigger all along, and how he then threw the WCF Title into a trash can and burnt it. They remember the Euthanasia Chamber Match. Not for who won it, but for the memories that were burned into their minds by the images of what took place that night. They even remember Logan rolling about in a bed of hot dogs and mustard as he clutched a photo of Brad Kane's wife and whispered sweet nothings to it. Why? Because as disturbing as it was, and as hard as we all try to forget it, it was a moment that will live on because it was memorable. Horrifically, disturbingly demented, but still memorable.
So what's the point of all this? I'm glad you asked.
The point is, I'm willing to throw down my cards and go out to the ring and give everything I have every night. Look at XIII. If that had been the old me, in the same exact spot at the top of the cage, the last thing on my mind would have been to pull off that moonsault. The only thing I would have been worried about was how I was going to be the one to get the pin for my team and hog the glory that was sure to come. And it would have been sweet as fuck. But the problem is, who'd have given a shit a month later? Or a year later? No I wanted to make people remember that Jay Price was part of that match. I wanted them to remember that January 2012 was the month that signaled the return of an Era. So what did I do? I gave you all a moment that made you stand up from your seats and shout out "Holy Shit". Did it hurt? Fuck yeah it hurt, it was a god damn moonsault off a twenty foot cage. But it was worth it because, even though Creeping Death was the one to get the victory, no one is going to remember anything but that moonsault. Am I going to be able to top that? Or will I even be able to top the iconic image of delivering a Downfall to Torture in what appears to have been his swan song?
Who knows? All I do know is that I can sleep easy knowing that night in and night out I'm going to be hitting the ring with the sole purpose of making sure you all know my name now and twenty years from now. For the first time I'm truly taking pride in what I do, and I'm challenging everyone to start doing the same. Because no matter what you accomplish, if no one remembers you then it's like you never existed.
Part II: The Other Message
The scene fades in on Price, who's standing in front of a black backdrop with the green WCF logo bearing proudly in the center.
Jay Price: All right, first things first, before I get into the serious shit, I want to again make sure you all know that this Sunday night we're going to have ourselves one hell of a party. We're going to have it all, from food to liquor to even some girls to go along with what is going to be some first class entertainment, all on my dime.
Now, to get serious for a minute, I feel like it's time to finally answer the rumblings I've been hearing in the back since the night of One. People questioning why someone just returning is ending Slam's. People questioning why I seemingly have gotten away with interfering in the main event at One. People questioning...well just about everything I've done since that night. And you know what? I can answer every single one of you that is complaining with just one simple statement: I'm Jay Fucking Price. I get to close out Slam's because people want to actually hear what I have to say on the microphone. And anyone with a brain should have known that after pulling off an attack on someone with Torture's stature and interfering in a World Title, One main event match, I was going to have a whole lot of shit to say. And, as anyone who knows anything about this business knows, buy rates are always going to win when it comes to deciding who gets what spots on the show. And Jay Price equals buy rates. Don't believe me? Then re-watch XIII...
Price unbuttons the dress shirt he's wearing and opens it to reveal the bandages covering his midsection.
Jay Price:...and learn that the better the showman, the better the money.
Price buttons his shirt back up.
Jay Price: Finally, let me address those of you who have taken it upon yourselves to critique my choice of target for my return. To you who were so quick to laugh at the idea of yet another "employee waging war against his boss", allow me to kindly direct your attention to the fact this thing between Seth and I is unlike anything any of you have ever seen or experienced. This isn't me raising up to challenge authority. This isn't me trying to take over the company. This isn't even me trying to make a name for myself by taking out people, starting out at the top. No this is something personal. Personal on a level that not one of you will ever know. Over the course of your careers, some of you might feel like the boss is screwing you over. You might feel cheated or robbed. And you're going to take it personally. You're going to get angry and you're going to either walk out the doors or you're going to bend over and take it up the ass like a bitch. Now that...that's just because you think the boss fucked you over. Imagine having to work for the man that you know for a fact ordered a hit on your pregnant girlfriend, killing your unborn child, just so he could make a point. That's what all of this is about. I'm hell bent on taking out Seth Lerch, not because he's the owner and it's "cool" to challenge authority, but because he deserves it. He deserves everything that I'm going to do to him, and then some. So next time, might I suggest that some of you do your homework before you decide to open your mouths. I guarantee you'll look a hell of a lot less stupid.
The scene fades out as Price turns and walks away.
I've been back now for just over two weeks, and despite the fact that I've only wrestled the one match at XIII in that time period, I've already given the WCF two moments that will be remembered for the rest of 2012. For the rest of this year when people think back to One, the biggest show of the year, they're going to remember the image of Jay Price planting Torture face first on the mat. Titles, even World Titles, change every month like it were nothing. Wrestlers, big name or no name, come and go through the doors without the slightest of acknowledgment. Oh, but the moments...they live on forever. They live on in the back of the mind of every true fan and are then passed on to the next generation. They live on in this digital media age where all it takes is the move of a mouse and the click of a button to relive the classics. They live on because they are the only true indestructible thing in this world we live in.
And that's the problem with this new generation of talent that we're being "blessed" with. Each of them have the talent, that's not questionable, but their egos, whether they be blatant or not, have their minds polluted with this idea that the only measure of success is what they can put down on their resumes. Every other word out of their mouths is "title this" and "title that". None of them take pride in their work any more, only in what they can claim in victory. Am I a hypocrite? In my early days, I was. I followed, and perhaps even helped to blaze, the same path that each member of this new generation is following. All I ever wanted back then was to be thrown into the high profile matches and to wrap as much gold around my waist as I could. I could have cared less about the shows I was putting on, or what the fans wanted to see. All I wanted was to see my arm raised in victory and to hear the words "And your winner is..." followed by my name. And yes, I do still want those things today, but I've grown and matured to the point that I now realize that all of the material possessions, like titles and trophies, and all of the victories written in the record books don't mean a thing. Plenty of people have come into the business and won matches and titles, but how many of them can you actually name? Can you name every person who's won the World Title without having to click on over onto Google? Can you tell me who's won the most matches in their WCF career without going over to Wikipedia? No. And why is that? Because people don't remember the champions and the victors years after they've passed, they only remember the moments that live on forever.
They remember when Hector Rodriguez ripped off his mask to realize that it was Gravedigger all along, and how he then threw the WCF Title into a trash can and burnt it. They remember the Euthanasia Chamber Match. Not for who won it, but for the memories that were burned into their minds by the images of what took place that night. They even remember Logan rolling about in a bed of hot dogs and mustard as he clutched a photo of Brad Kane's wife and whispered sweet nothings to it. Why? Because as disturbing as it was, and as hard as we all try to forget it, it was a moment that will live on because it was memorable. Horrifically, disturbingly demented, but still memorable.
So what's the point of all this? I'm glad you asked.
The point is, I'm willing to throw down my cards and go out to the ring and give everything I have every night. Look at XIII. If that had been the old me, in the same exact spot at the top of the cage, the last thing on my mind would have been to pull off that moonsault. The only thing I would have been worried about was how I was going to be the one to get the pin for my team and hog the glory that was sure to come. And it would have been sweet as fuck. But the problem is, who'd have given a shit a month later? Or a year later? No I wanted to make people remember that Jay Price was part of that match. I wanted them to remember that January 2012 was the month that signaled the return of an Era. So what did I do? I gave you all a moment that made you stand up from your seats and shout out "Holy Shit". Did it hurt? Fuck yeah it hurt, it was a god damn moonsault off a twenty foot cage. But it was worth it because, even though Creeping Death was the one to get the victory, no one is going to remember anything but that moonsault. Am I going to be able to top that? Or will I even be able to top the iconic image of delivering a Downfall to Torture in what appears to have been his swan song?
Who knows? All I do know is that I can sleep easy knowing that night in and night out I'm going to be hitting the ring with the sole purpose of making sure you all know my name now and twenty years from now. For the first time I'm truly taking pride in what I do, and I'm challenging everyone to start doing the same. Because no matter what you accomplish, if no one remembers you then it's like you never existed.
Part II: The Other Message
The scene fades in on Price, who's standing in front of a black backdrop with the green WCF logo bearing proudly in the center.
Jay Price: All right, first things first, before I get into the serious shit, I want to again make sure you all know that this Sunday night we're going to have ourselves one hell of a party. We're going to have it all, from food to liquor to even some girls to go along with what is going to be some first class entertainment, all on my dime.
Now, to get serious for a minute, I feel like it's time to finally answer the rumblings I've been hearing in the back since the night of One. People questioning why someone just returning is ending Slam's. People questioning why I seemingly have gotten away with interfering in the main event at One. People questioning...well just about everything I've done since that night. And you know what? I can answer every single one of you that is complaining with just one simple statement: I'm Jay Fucking Price. I get to close out Slam's because people want to actually hear what I have to say on the microphone. And anyone with a brain should have known that after pulling off an attack on someone with Torture's stature and interfering in a World Title, One main event match, I was going to have a whole lot of shit to say. And, as anyone who knows anything about this business knows, buy rates are always going to win when it comes to deciding who gets what spots on the show. And Jay Price equals buy rates. Don't believe me? Then re-watch XIII...
Price unbuttons the dress shirt he's wearing and opens it to reveal the bandages covering his midsection.
Jay Price:...and learn that the better the showman, the better the money.
Price buttons his shirt back up.
Jay Price: Finally, let me address those of you who have taken it upon yourselves to critique my choice of target for my return. To you who were so quick to laugh at the idea of yet another "employee waging war against his boss", allow me to kindly direct your attention to the fact this thing between Seth and I is unlike anything any of you have ever seen or experienced. This isn't me raising up to challenge authority. This isn't me trying to take over the company. This isn't even me trying to make a name for myself by taking out people, starting out at the top. No this is something personal. Personal on a level that not one of you will ever know. Over the course of your careers, some of you might feel like the boss is screwing you over. You might feel cheated or robbed. And you're going to take it personally. You're going to get angry and you're going to either walk out the doors or you're going to bend over and take it up the ass like a bitch. Now that...that's just because you think the boss fucked you over. Imagine having to work for the man that you know for a fact ordered a hit on your pregnant girlfriend, killing your unborn child, just so he could make a point. That's what all of this is about. I'm hell bent on taking out Seth Lerch, not because he's the owner and it's "cool" to challenge authority, but because he deserves it. He deserves everything that I'm going to do to him, and then some. So next time, might I suggest that some of you do your homework before you decide to open your mouths. I guarantee you'll look a hell of a lot less stupid.
The scene fades out as Price turns and walks away.
