Post by FPV on Oct 13, 2017 20:09:54 GMT -5
ONE WEEK BEFORE WAR
Dr. Joe Velasquez's face was one of concern. He had less asked me to come in for an appointment and more forced me to. His office felt a bit colder then it usually was, cold and oppressing. The good doctor had always given off an air of quiet indifference, but not this time. Now there was a look of worry spread all over. I sat there opposite his desk, already knowing what he was about to tell me.
Dr. Joe: Mr. Venable, if you have even the slightest notion I am going to let you compete in this state, you are sadly mistaken.
As much as I was expecting it, it still stung to hear it said aloud. The Tokyo Deathmatch that took place last week was about as brutal as I expected it to be. However, if there was anything that I was not expecting, it was a surprise Oblivion attack. It's often said that the bastard is past his prime, but at the same time if he catches you off guard you're done for. That's not even talking about the shit Price put me through in the match before all of that. It was a week ago and my body was still on the verge of collapse. The idea of me competing in WAR was preposterous.
And yet...
I still wanted to fucking do it. I could not for the life of me tell you why. Perhaps it was just me trying to be stubborn and show everyone I still had it despite all of the evidence to the contrary. It's that mentality all wrestlers get at some point in their careers. That how the truly great stories are made, from people fighting through setbacks like this. So almost sheepishly, I looked at the good doctor and said...
And yet...
I still wanted to fucking do it. I could not for the life of me tell you why. Perhaps it was just me trying to be stubborn and show everyone I still had it despite all of the evidence to the contrary. It's that mentality all wrestlers get at some point in their careers. That how the truly great stories are made, from people fighting through setbacks like this. So almost sheepishly, I looked at the good doctor and said...
FPV: Is there...any way?
He held his hand up to stop me from continuing.
Dr. Joe: I have all of the tests right here. If you compete in that WAR match, you are putting yourself in CLEAR and IMMEDIATE danger. You could even DIE for all we know.
That was when it hit me. "Die." The thought had never occurred to me that something like that could happen. But it all began to make sense. For every success story of a wrestler fighting through injury, there was probably plenty of other examples of wrestler's pushing themselves too far and losing everything. A brief thought drifted to the late great Misawa, and that was all the convincing that needed to be done.
FPV: All right. If it's that bad, then I won't do it. But...
His eyebrow raised in suspicion.
FPV: I committed to doing XIII in October. And I'm not sure I can back out of that one.
Doc sighed, looking at his calendar, checking the date.
Dr. Joe: I suppose...if you rest all the way til then and make sure it's not too strenuous, then I suppose so.
That was all I needed to hear. it wasn't going to be pretty, but I was still going to do as best I could. That's all I really could do.
