Post by Kyle Kemp on Apr 16, 2016 1:44:51 GMT -5
What is important to me?
The soft tunes of “Blow Up” by Sam Adams run through my iPhone headphones as I lean back in my reclined seat on a shitty Delta Airlines flight back to Chicago. I am on my way home from Slam 350 and the title of this song couldn’t be any more true to my current situation. It was only last night where Jared and I completely fell apart as we faced Occulo and Joey Flash. We had them on the ropes and then pride got in the way and normally I would sit here in this moment and think that it was partially my fault. I’m not going to do that today because it’s not my fault. It’s his fault. It’s his fault for being acting like a teenage girl.
I knew that the two of us making the Trilogy Finals could bring up some heated emotions but everything that I thought could happen has been amped up. I know that Jared wants this and that he feels like he is owed this opportunity. That as the “leader” of #BeachKrew that he deserves this, especially after Wade shit the bed. He’s wrong. He’s not the only one that deserves this. I do too. I beat Dune and Chance Von Crank to get here. I’m not going to back down just because he is in the finals.
Most people have this very mundane list of items or people that are important to them and base their actions based off of this. I find that boring and a cop out. Your actions shouldn’t be based on what you think is important or on some person that you think is a big part of your life. Your actions should be based on one thing. What you want. That is how I have always lived and that is what separates me from everyone else. That includes my fellow #BeachKrew members. While I love each and every one of them like a brother, none of them have the same mindset as me. That is what makes me Kyle Kemp.
Most people would be sitting here and thinking of how to fix the relationship between Jared and I but I’m not. He has two options. Deal with the fact that I am facing him for the title shot or ruin his relationship with the one guy that #BeachKrew can’t afford to lose. I have no problem going out on my own if things go south here. I came here to prove that I am the best and if #BeachKrew is no longer the vehicle that can bring me to the top, I’m more than willing to leave it on the side of the road.
That thought jolts me as I think of all of the good memories that I have with those guys. The Hellimination victory with Wade and Jared. Winning the Tag Titles with Johnny Rabid. Partying my face off with Andre and Beaver. Doing whatever we want and facing no consequences. A small smile begins to turn up on my face but I quickly shake my head and push those memories to the back. I can’t feel this way. Being sentimental is for losers. I’m not a loser.
I finally open my eyes and look at the off color cream ceiling of the plane and sigh. I usually wouldn’t take a commercial flight but it was the fastest way home and I wasn’t going to wait with everyone else. Fortunately I got the window seat and while I would love to look to my right and see a hot girl next to me, it’s just a 8 year old boy who asked me 20 questions in the first 4 minutes of the flight. The Beaver Cleaver clone was so annoying that I put my headphones in during mid conversation. I reach up and try to twist the stupid appliance that passes for the “air conditioner” and attempt to get it to blow out air a little harder.
I twist with all my might and nothing happens. I purse my lips and take a deep breath of frustration while the kid laughs at another stupid cartoon on his tablet. This normally wouldn’t bother me but this kid has a laugh that makes you want to break a beer bottle and shove the shards into your neck. I look out the window and pray that a descent into Chicago is coming but I see nothing that leads me to believe that that is even close to happening. I reach for the volume control on the right ear bud strand on the headphones and turn up the volume as we continue on our way and reassume my leaned back position with the thoughts of winning the Trilogy Finals running through my head.
TMZ Strikes Again
During the rash decision making of taking this flight I arrived just in time to make the flight which meant I had to sit in the back. There’s nothing that I hate more in this moment than waiting for all of these people to get off the plane. I half stand with my head tilted so it doesn’t slam into the ceiling of the plane since this plane was apparently designed for people 5’5 and below. I watch what seems to be clones of the same people reach and grab crappy carry on bags from sub par stores like Kohl’s and move like molasses off the plane. I have never understood why some people are created so average. All of the guys have the same pale complexion with the same haircut and same shitty attitude towards their wives who tell them what to do and how not to hold the bags. Who cares if you fuck up the bag? It’s what….$20? Chump change. I pull my custom made blue and red Nike backpack on with a smile.
I look down at the same kid who is now standing next to his terrible mother who has ignored him the whole trip while he sucked down little glasses of Coke while she had thoughts of leaving her husband who sits at home and tries to finish up with an escort before they arrive. They sicken me. What makes matters worse is this kid has been watching Spongebob the entire trip and with every new episode, I hear that same annoying theme song play. I roll my eyes as another episode starts, look at his mother who is too busy staring at Amazon.com specials to care and I shrug my shoulders. While most would just grin and bear it, I do what I want and in this moment I want to slap the tablet from his hands. I reach down and do just that. “Hey!” he shouts at me and then looks at his mother. She looks up from her phone and then at me with a questioning look before looking back down at him.
“What?” She says to him with a exasperated tone.
“He just threw my tablet on the ground!” He shouts while pointing at me. She looks at me with an incredulous look.
“Seriously?” I say with an amused tone. “Do you really believe that I would do that?”
She looks at me and back down at him. She’s so unhappy that she just doesn’t care. “Just pick it up! The line is moving!”
He reaches down and picks it up and follows his Mom off the plane, sniffling behind her as I also walk off right behind them. He look back at me with tears in his eyes and I simply glare at him. Of course as we get into the walkway between the plane and the airport these two idiots move so slow. I quickly pass them and pick up a brisk pace as I try to get the hell out of O’Hare airport. As I reach the end of the walkway and walk past everyone through the security checkpoint and can see the exit in sight, a camera slides in front of me. I know right away that it’s a person from TMZ. I know because of the nasally voice that begins to ask me questions. “What’s up Kyle?! Can you tell us how you feel about what happened last night on Slam 350?”
I roll my eyes as I stop put my hands on the backpack straps that run across my shoulders. “It’s nothing but a slight disagreement man. We will be fine!”
“Can you tell us how you feel about all of the latest news with your friend Johnny Manziel?”
“I know this isn’t gonna be the answer you want to here but he’s balling out and it’s the offseason. Who cares? Let him do what he wants.”
“Interesting. Well real quick can you tell us how you feel about your big opportunity this week!?”
This causes me to pause and wrinkle my brow. I haven’t heard anything of an opportunity or even who I’m facing this week. The wireless internet was of course not working on this stupid flight. “I haven’t been paying attention man. Fill me in.”
“Well for the first time ever you are going to main event Slam in a singles match! And you’ll be facing Grayson Pierce!”
A cocky half smile crosses my face as I look at the cameraman and I can’t help but feel like a giant gift has been given to me. “Well from learning about this right now my initial thoughts are it’s about damn time. Seth finally realized that the ratings need a jump especially in the main event time slot and it looks like it’s finally time to bring in the big guns. For far too long we have allowed the same guys to come out and wrestle in the main event and the crowd is sick of the same sub par product that those guys put on. It’s my time.”
“And what about facing Grayson Pierce?”
“Pierce is a scrub. That’s all I’m gonna say for now.”
I walk past the cameraman and towards the doors of the airport with a slight spring in my step.
Overrated and a Coward
By now all of you have seen the video that TMZ shared of me earlier this week. The video was trending on Twitter almost instantly and it was hard for anyone to miss my reaction to the news that I would be facing Grayson Pierce this Sunday in my first singles main event match ever. I called him a scrub and that single statement has become a hashtag that I’m proud of. People have been using the #scrub as an adjective for Grayson Pierce all week and I know with every second that that hashtag trends on twitter, Pierce gets a little more angry. He gets a little more frustrated and who could blame him? I for one know what it is like to have everyone doubt you and think that you don’t have a chance. It’s happened the entire Trilogy Cup Tournament. The second the bracket was announced and Dune was announced as my first round opponent everyone doubted me. I proved them wrong. That is something that Grayson Pierce won’t do on Sunday.
Here is a disclaimer for you Pierce. I'm going to be brutally honest during the next few minutes and what I say is gonna hurt. You're gonna feel like I'm just another guy coming down on you but I'm about to be realer with you than anyone as before. Don't worry though. It's not because I like you. It's not because I respect you. It's because I'm tired of you walking around the backstage area of the WCF like you are some kind of stud that we are all supposed to be in awe of. You need to remember that we have all seen your failures. We have seen you drop the ball so many times that it's hard to keep track of. Hence why I think you're overrated.
That's right Pierce! You're nothing more than an overrated sack of shit. Pierce is our Dwight Howard. He has all the tools and has the athletic ability but he doesn’t have the will or ability to put it all together. He doesn’t have the dedication to be better than anyone. He’s just another guy that expects everything to be handed to him. I know that he does these emotional promos about how he’s gonna give it his all and how he respects everyone but it’s all lies. He says things like how it’s his time and how things will be different but what has he done? Put on some face paint? Change his name? Just like when Dwight Howard went to Houston, a change of jersey and venue means nothing because you’re still the same worthless piece of garbage that you have always been.
Grayson Pierce doesn’t have what it takes to beat me one on one. Plain and simple. Now I know that most people would like to point out that he and Andre Holmes took my and Rabid’s Tag Team Titles a couple months ago and like to point out that that one night he was better than me. I know that Pierce will use that as one of his focal points when he tries to tell everyone that he is going to smoke me on Sunday but let’s get one thing out of the way. It was a fluke. I know it. Rabid knows it. Holmes knows it. And your damn sure Pierce knows it.
Let me drop this little nugget on all of you. Rabid and I still have not been given our rematch for those belts. Some cite that to my involvement in the Trilogy Tournament. Others cite that Rabid and I don’t need those belts to prove our place here. The truth of the matter is that we have asked for our rematch. We’ve asked multiple times and conveniently we have not been given that rematch. That is because Grayson Pierce is a coward. He knows that that performance that he and Holmes had on that one night could never be duplicated but has plenty of evidence that Rabid and I can go above and beyond what he saw that night. Just look at the tapes of our previous title matches. We were unstoppable and for one night Pierce and Holmes caught lightening in a bottle and got the upset. That would not happen again if were to fight right now, but enough about those Tag Team Titles. There irrelevant on Sunday. What is relevant is that I just called you a coward Pierce and I meant it.
I’m sure you are pacing around your living room right now with fire in your eyes. You're bouncing up and down and talking shit to me as these words come out of my mouth because you’re the Livewire! Your high flying and all that other crap that you spew out and try to sound like you have an ounce of charisma. You aren’t a coward! You just beat Wade and Orbit to become Number One Contender! I can hear all of the reasons why dribbling out of your mouth but there’s one distinct reason that you’re a coward Pierce and it’s staring at you right in the face. I want you to get close to the TV and look at my eyes as I say it. It’s because I’m here talking shit and you’re there swearing in front of your TV. That’s what you do Pierce because we both know that when Sunday rolls around, none of it is going to get brought up. You’re not going to grow a set and confront me. You’re just gonna pander to the crowd, try to do some crazy high flying move to get everyone to forget about what was said and once the match is over, you’ll run to the back.
You see I’ve done this song and dance with you before Pierce. I haven’t forgotten your little temper tantrum about me talking shit to you the last time we faced off in that Tag Title match. How you decided to do your “unofficial” response shoot with Hank Brown. How you said I was the worst smack talker in the fed. It was pathetic. I know that you went home that night and laid in bed with a smile on your face, thinking that you really pulled one over on me but in reality you simply showed your true colors. You showed that you have the same emotional balance of a 13 year old on her period. It’s pathetic man. That’s why I didn’t even respond to you when that happened. I knew one day I would get the chance to respond to you and today is that day.
I will never forget how red faced and mad you were that I had just torn you up and how you had to have the last word. With as upset as you were I expected you to get in the ring and want to tear my head off. Instead you did your same schtick and when push came to shove you disappeared after the match and all of that is because you are a pussy. I’m not going to be politically correct here. You’re a pussy. I know it. You know it. Joey Flash knows it.
Do you know how I know that? Because he’s bent you over and railed you so often that it’s like you’ve been married 50 years. He’s beaten you so many times that it’s become that routine. He knows where all the twists and turns are. He knows what he is going to be able to do and what he can’t do. It may take him a few extra seconds but the end is still the same. He ends up nutting all over you while you lay there, take it and it all ends with you flat on your back and wondering how to change your life. You wonder where things went wrong and how you let this happen.
This is why I am in no way shape or form thinking that I will face you for the World Title after I win Trilogy. You aren’t gonna beat Joey Flash. This isn’t the Little Giants and there is no Annexation of Puerto Rico play that you can pull out of your ass to save you. You’re going to lose to him just like you always do and just like you are going to lose to me on Sunday. It’s predictable and that is why this company needs me to beat you, win Trilogy and take the World Title.
The people are getting restless Pierce. They’re tired of seeing Joey Flash, Dune, you and the countless others that always main event matches for this company. They want to see me, whether they want to admit it or not, be the face of this company. Since day 1 I have said that I am better than you and all of them. I have meant it and this Sunday is the next step of my rise in this company. I will not let you ruin my first main event match. I will not let someone that has pissed every opportunity down their leg be my undoing. I am going to walk into Montreal this Sunday and I am going to show you why you’re still overrated and that you are still a coward. I’m gonna show everyone why I am better than you. I dare you to stop me you pussy.
Chipotle does the body good
I walk out the front door of my high rise apartment building and the brisk breeze off Lake Michigan hits me. It’s a brisk 50 degrees in Chicago and I pull the hood of my black hooded sweatshirt partway onto my head. I look around and take a right turn towards the Chipotle that is a block away from my apartment. I tuck my hands into the pouch of my hooded sweatshirt, walk down the street and into the Chipotle. Getting through the line to get my steak burrito takes longer than I would want and by the time I finally take a seat on a stool by the window to eat, I’m annoyed. Then again I’m annoyed all the time. We’ve reached the stage where every person that I meet makes me want to throw myself in front of a car.
I begin to eat my burrito when my phone suddenly rings. It’s Rabid. I haven’t talked to anyone all week and if it was anyone else I’d ignore the call. Unfortunately Rabid is someone that I know I can’t do that with. I pull out my headphones and throw them in before accepting the call. “What’s up?”
“Kyle we need to chat.”
I take a bite out of the burrito before responding. “Well tell me what’s going through your mind then.”
“Your little display with Jared has left a few people on edge this week. Running away doesn’t help either.”
“I didn’t run away! I left before I did something that all of you would regret.”
“But that is not how we handle situations like this. Don’t you remember? This is exactly how you reacted to me not so long ago.”
“That was different. We were a team and were fighting alongside each other. Jared and I are going for the same thing and he can’t handle it.”
“You keep saying that but can you?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
“I mean that you are acting like the child Kyle Kemp. Not the cold blooded assassin that was working with me only a couple months ago.”
“A child?!”
“How you have regressed Kyle.”
“I haven’t regressed! I’ve become better than I ever was. Have you not been paying attention?”
“Oh I’ve been paying attention and you need to remember one thing Kyle. You don’t get to this position without me. Don’t forget who just happened to be around when you beat Dune and Chance Von Crank.”
“That’s bullshit. I beat them. I was the one pinning them.”
“And I was the one doing all of the gritty work to make that happen.”
I pause as I feel my body get hot suddenly. Part of me knows that Rabid is right but the rest of me knows that I am and that’s the part that matters. “Do you know what though Rabid? A win is a win. Plain and simple and I won. And I will not let you try to take that from me.”
“I’m not taking that from you. I’m just telling you what everyone else thinks and I know that you know how to handle that.”
“You handle that by not giving a shit and going out and getting the job done.”
“Exactly. Now go out and prove to me and the rest of us that you aren’t that same Kyle Kemp that would let a few people bad mouthing him bother you. Go out there and this Sunday and take Grayson Pierce’s heart.”
I hear the beeps of the phone letting me know that the call has been ended. I look down at my burrito with a indifferent look and stare out the storefront window and think about what Rabid just said.
The Champion You Deserve
It has been a few days since I talked to Rabid on the phone and I have been in lockdown mode since. I keep thinking back to him saying that I have regressed and just thinking of that word makes me angry. I haven’t regressed. I wouldn’t be in the Trilogy Finals if I had regressed but that word continues to float back and forth in my head. Even now as I drive towards the arena for Slam in my rental black Ford F-150.
I know that Rabid was just trying to play mind games and he should know by now that he doesn’t need too but this time he said just the right thing to make me think. Am I really better than I was before? Am I ready for this responsibility? I roll my eyes for the 300th time since I started thinking about this. Of course I am. I’m fucking Kyle Kemp and being World Champion is the best thing for me and for all of these people. Joey Flash? Grayson Pierce? It’s the same regurgitated bullshit that has been placed in front of them for months. It’s time for someone new to take the reigns.
A large crowd of fans surround the entrance that we are to use for Slam this week as I pull up to the arena. Surprisingly the people are cheering for me which is odd. People usually hate me. Well...they are Canadian so that may explain it. Either way it people are gonna cheer than why not give them a show! I suddenly put the truck in park and stop. I climb out as the fans cheer as security looks at me like I’m insane. They are holding everyone back so wrestlers cars can pull in and I have ruined their plans. I climb into the bed of the truck and hold up my hands, signaling them to quiet down. It takes a few seconds but they all finally quiet down and I begin to address them.
“Ladies and gentlemen I stand before you tonight with a strong message that you all may or may not want to here but I don’t care because you’re going to hear it anyway!”
“My name is Kyle Kemp and I am better than you! That is what I have said since day one and it’s only fitting that as my 1 year anniversary of being a WCF wrestler comes up that I am in the Trilogy Finals and tonight I am in the main event. For far too long you all have had to see the same average faces play fight in the ring and bitch on social media. It is time that a true baller steps up and takes his place as the wrestler and champion that you all deserve! That champion is Kyle Kemp. So take in this moment here in Montreal. You all can one day look at your kids and tell them where you were when Kyle Kemp saved the WCF from people like Grayson Pierce and made things respectable again! Tonight I take the next step in proving that I am better than you and in two months I will be your new World Champion. Accept it now because change is coming.”
I hope off the bed of the truck to a chorus of boos but also a smattering of cheers and climb back into the driver’s seat. These people will be eating out of the palm of my hand before this night is over. I’m not regressing. I’m just getting started. I pull the truck inside the arena as the camera fades to black.
