Post by Thunder on May 27, 2007 13:41:46 GMT -5
I woke up Friday morning feeling horrible. I was sweating profusely and had a horrible headache. To put it quite simply, I was feeling just about as bad as possible. Bu I felt fine just last night when I went off to bed. I had been thinking about my match with Skyler Striker, as I had been doing so often. Now here I was feeling like crap only a few hours later. How could this have happened?
At first this seemed like an unanswerable questions, one of those things that someone will always question, only to come up empty, knowing nothing more than before. But I as I lied there, my head still thumping from the migrane, little by little the answer seemed obvious. And it all came by retracing what I had been doing yesterday and the time before it.
I had spent a large amount of time yesterday (and every other day for weeks as well) watching tape after tape of Skyler Striker matches. Really, it’s probably completely unnecessary to do so much of that. I have, after all, faced Skyler countless times before in WCF, GWC, and WFWF. I’ve won many if not most of those matches, and yet I still feel I have not done enough to prepare. I guess this is because in all the matches, even the ones where a title was on the line, none are more important than this. Hell, I even had a drawing of what the Pyramid structure I will be fighting in will look like. I studied that drawing, trying to remember what lay in every nook and cranny. In short, I was devoting a lot of time, in fact, too much to preparing for this match.
And as I realized as I lay in bed, it was taking a toll on me. It consumed me so much that I couldn’t even sleep properly. Clearly, something needed to change and quickly before I was brought down on a slippery slope to disaster that would leave me a physical and emotional wreck leading into Timebomb.
But what was I to do? I pondered this question as I sat on the side of the bed, my white t-shirt covered in a thick layer of sweat. How was I going to get my mind off the match? But then I thought of Janie. We could go out like she had wanted to so often recently. Each time, I told her I just had too much to do in preparing for my match. But now that is exactly the thing I wanted to do. The match may have still been on my mind last time we went out, but I won’t let that happen now. Tonight I just want to forget all about that match. You know what, it doesn’t even matter where we go. All I need is a little break.
In the darkness, I felt around the end table to the left of my bed until my hands touched my cell phone. I dialed Janie’s number, but was greeted with only her voicemail. I didn’t even bother to leave a message; calling her back later would be fine. I hadn’t even thought of checking what time it was before I tried calling Janie. When I leaned over and saw the alarm clock on the end table on the opposite side I saw that it wasn’t even 5 AM yet. Great, I can’t even get a full night’s sleep now. The headache was horrible, but with it being so early, I did my best to try to sleep. That didn’t work, and eventually I just got up and took a shower. Several hours later, I called Janie back.
Janie: Hello?
Hey, Stacy.
Janie: Oh, hey.
My mind’s been on the match so much lately that I need to forget about it for awhile. Maybe we could go out tonight?
Janie: Sure. Where do you want to go?
Doesn’t matter to me.
Janie: We can go to this bar by my place. It’s not that nice, but it’ll do.
That’s fine. Maybe around 8?
Janie: Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye.
Bye.
She arrived at the house a little late (as is always the case with women) and we left a few minutes later.
As a rule, I don’t like to go to cheap bars, restaurants, or anywhere else where the “common” man will inhabit the majority of the place. It’s not arrogance or anything like that, I just can’t stand crazy wrestling fans that always pop up at those places. If I was not on their TV screen every week it would be different. It something all famous people complain about, but it sure is true.
This bar really was even more pathetic that I was expecting. I couldn’t even believe Janie would even go to such a place after I had introduced her to a life of wealth. The floor was wet with what I hope was only beer, but there was probably more than that. My shoes crunched peanut shells as we walked up to the bar, passing tables filled with people that were barely conscious, and those were the lucky ones. We sat down at two empty bar stools and ordered a bottle of Jack Daniels for each of us. And that’s when it began. Across the other side of the bar, a very intoxicated man (wearing a leather jacket, despite the warm weather) was eyeing us. Sure enough, he approached us because he recognized me from TV. And to hit on Jane as well.
I just couldn’t take dealing with that. I didn’t even want to fight him; I just wanted to leave. This was something I could not put with. We simply left and went back to my place, at this point so disgusted that I didn’t even want to go out anymore. We just sat there, watching TV, as my mind was still transfixed on that match. My mind was transfixed on my destiny…
[/center]At first this seemed like an unanswerable questions, one of those things that someone will always question, only to come up empty, knowing nothing more than before. But I as I lied there, my head still thumping from the migrane, little by little the answer seemed obvious. And it all came by retracing what I had been doing yesterday and the time before it.
I had spent a large amount of time yesterday (and every other day for weeks as well) watching tape after tape of Skyler Striker matches. Really, it’s probably completely unnecessary to do so much of that. I have, after all, faced Skyler countless times before in WCF, GWC, and WFWF. I’ve won many if not most of those matches, and yet I still feel I have not done enough to prepare. I guess this is because in all the matches, even the ones where a title was on the line, none are more important than this. Hell, I even had a drawing of what the Pyramid structure I will be fighting in will look like. I studied that drawing, trying to remember what lay in every nook and cranny. In short, I was devoting a lot of time, in fact, too much to preparing for this match.
And as I realized as I lay in bed, it was taking a toll on me. It consumed me so much that I couldn’t even sleep properly. Clearly, something needed to change and quickly before I was brought down on a slippery slope to disaster that would leave me a physical and emotional wreck leading into Timebomb.
But what was I to do? I pondered this question as I sat on the side of the bed, my white t-shirt covered in a thick layer of sweat. How was I going to get my mind off the match? But then I thought of Janie. We could go out like she had wanted to so often recently. Each time, I told her I just had too much to do in preparing for my match. But now that is exactly the thing I wanted to do. The match may have still been on my mind last time we went out, but I won’t let that happen now. Tonight I just want to forget all about that match. You know what, it doesn’t even matter where we go. All I need is a little break.
In the darkness, I felt around the end table to the left of my bed until my hands touched my cell phone. I dialed Janie’s number, but was greeted with only her voicemail. I didn’t even bother to leave a message; calling her back later would be fine. I hadn’t even thought of checking what time it was before I tried calling Janie. When I leaned over and saw the alarm clock on the end table on the opposite side I saw that it wasn’t even 5 AM yet. Great, I can’t even get a full night’s sleep now. The headache was horrible, but with it being so early, I did my best to try to sleep. That didn’t work, and eventually I just got up and took a shower. Several hours later, I called Janie back.
Janie: Hello?
Hey, Stacy.
Janie: Oh, hey.
My mind’s been on the match so much lately that I need to forget about it for awhile. Maybe we could go out tonight?
Janie: Sure. Where do you want to go?
Doesn’t matter to me.
Janie: We can go to this bar by my place. It’s not that nice, but it’ll do.
That’s fine. Maybe around 8?
Janie: Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye.
Bye.
She arrived at the house a little late (as is always the case with women) and we left a few minutes later.
As a rule, I don’t like to go to cheap bars, restaurants, or anywhere else where the “common” man will inhabit the majority of the place. It’s not arrogance or anything like that, I just can’t stand crazy wrestling fans that always pop up at those places. If I was not on their TV screen every week it would be different. It something all famous people complain about, but it sure is true.
This bar really was even more pathetic that I was expecting. I couldn’t even believe Janie would even go to such a place after I had introduced her to a life of wealth. The floor was wet with what I hope was only beer, but there was probably more than that. My shoes crunched peanut shells as we walked up to the bar, passing tables filled with people that were barely conscious, and those were the lucky ones. We sat down at two empty bar stools and ordered a bottle of Jack Daniels for each of us. And that’s when it began. Across the other side of the bar, a very intoxicated man (wearing a leather jacket, despite the warm weather) was eyeing us. Sure enough, he approached us because he recognized me from TV. And to hit on Jane as well.
I just couldn’t take dealing with that. I didn’t even want to fight him; I just wanted to leave. This was something I could not put with. We simply left and went back to my place, at this point so disgusted that I didn’t even want to go out anymore. We just sat there, watching TV, as my mind was still transfixed on that match. My mind was transfixed on my destiny…