Post by Cormack MacNeill on Jan 12, 2014 17:53:51 GMT -5
“We can not become what we need to be by remaining what we are.”
Scene opens on a Halifax street.
The night is crisp and clear and a thick blanket of snow covers the terrain. In the distance a lone figure can be seen jogging through the knee-deep crust, the rhythmic crunch-crunch-crunch of icy footfalls audible. The camera slowly zooms into the figure, who we can now see is a frost-rimmed Cormack MacNeill struggling to move through the snow. His breath falls in icy clouds before him and his toque-covered brow is lined with ice, sweat flash-frozen in the chill night air. His sweatshirt and pants crackle with the sound of frozen cloth.
His face is set in a look of deep thought, beard frozen nearly solid with icy condensation from his laboured breath. His pace slows as he takes deep breaths of frosty air, stopping and resting his gloved hands on his knees. With a weary sigh, he stands upright and begins running again. As the scene fades out, a last muttered comment can be heard through his frozen lips.
'Global Warming my ass!'
Scene opens outside Jimmy's Gym
A lone figure can be seen jogging towards the entrance to the gym. As the figure approaches, we can once again see Cormack struggling through the snow. He puts on a burst of speed through the last 500 feet, churning snow as he makes it to the door and stumbles inside.
The camera follows him inside as he stands in the hallway, shaking the snow and ice from his suit. With a gesture he moves into a side room as he strips off his icy shirt.
The camera pans back to the hallway as Jimmy walks into view. Adorned in his usual attire of sweats and a black watch cap, he yells toward the front door.
"Mack? You back yet? I coulda run that in half the time, and I'm 70!"
He tilts his head as the sound of a running shower is heard, then shakes his head and walks around the corner. The camera follows him up the hallway, and turns left as Jimmy enters Cormack's room. A post-it board is seen in the corner of the room, pictures of Jay Price adorning it. Each picture is of Price doing a move, with handwritten notes beside each one. The old man studies this for a moment, nodding in appreciation before turning to the closet.
With a start, Jimmy looks at the empty closet, then at the dresser with all the drawers emptied out. Several bags lay packed in the middle of the bed, the sheets and blankets tucked in tightly on the bed itself.
The camera pans to the doorway, where Cormack is standing.
'Jimmy...'
'Mack, what the hell is this?'
'Jimmy...I'm leaving.'
'Why! I told you I was getting the place fixed up! The new machines will be in next month!'
'It's not about machines Jimmy. And the place is just fine the way it it.'
Jimmy glares at Mack, his face a mask of rage.
'Then what is it? Suddenly too good for ol' Jimmy? Is that it?'
Mack smiles sadly, and puts his arm out, resting it on the old man's shoulder.
'Jimmy, you've raised me like a son. You fed me, put a roof over my head, . And you taught me your trade, taught me to take it like a man, and to give it back as good as I got it. And you taught me what being a man is all about.'
Mack stepped back, letting his arm fall. Jimmy softened his face, and looked down at the floor sadly.
'For all these years, you've let me into your home, your life, and never asked for a thing from me. Not even now, when I'm making good money. Better than either of us made boxing. You've spent your life giving, giving, giving everything you had.'
Mack placed his hands on the old man's shoulders and looked into his face with a tear in his eye.
'Now it's time for me to find my own way. Make my own future. You've given me the tools to build a life, and now I must go and do that.'
At this point, both men had tears in their eyes. Two men, who had spent their time together teaching, and learning, pain, destruction, agony. Two men who had won together, lost together, bled together, they were now silently, proudly shedding a tear together.
Cormack stepped back, and reached down to grab his bags. Hefting them in both hands, he turned toward the door.
'Mack, wait! When will I see you again?'
Mack stopped, looking over his shoulder.
'We'll see each other again Jimmy, count on it'
Fade to black
Scene fades in on the road to Raleigh, NC
Cormack sits behind the wheel, his eyes on the road. Beside him sits a gymbag, battered and grey, with Jimmy's Gym printed on the side. A smile crosses his face as he glances at the bag, then back at the road.
'Jay Price...former World Champ, Tag-Team Champ, Hardcore Champ, etc. I've got a lot of respect for what you've done in the ring. Your legend's been written.
The legend of Cormack MacNeill of Clan MacNeill of Barra starts tonight! Win or lose, I'm going to leave an impression on you and on the WCF. It's time for the WCF to see who I am and what I can do. I'm more than just a pretty face ya know laddie!'
Scene fades out as Cormack chuckles to himself.
