Post by Dake Ken on May 11, 2009 12:19:23 GMT -5
*A body hits the ropes and slingshots off.*
(The moment of decision. An accurate choice must be made here. Here is your opponent, hurtling at you, only feet away. What do you do? Hesitate and be run over, telegraph and be countered. Use their own momentum against them? A simple arm drag? Belly to belly suplex? Or what else? Simply put your foot up and let their face slam into it, stopping them in their tracks? Endless options, some good, some bad. The situation seems all to similar to that of the pitcher and the batter. Reactions must be made in seconds, and adjustments must be made even more quickly.)
(It's situations like these can change the momentum of a match. If the defender counters, then the entire match swings in his favor. If the defender fails to evade or counter, a high impact move could be executed, sealing their fate. It's these situations where Dake has always found an advantage. Not one that has come naturally, but with much effort. Years of training and experience.)
*The shot reveals the body is running toward Dake Ken. Who is preparing for the contact. Dake is in generic wrestling gear. Black tights, black boots, black kneepads and elbow pads. He clenches and opens his heavily taped hands and his bounces on his toes slightly. It almost looks like he is a lion waiting to attack, twitching with anticipation before the strike.
Analyze the situation. What are his tendencies in this situation? Where are his feet set? Is he going high or is he going low?
*The other man in the ring is just inches from Dake. The final moment, no more thinking. Dake bends his knees slightly and turns his torso. He grabs the man and snaps him violently with a hard pop of this hips.*
(Make a decision. After figuring out what the most effective and high percentage move you can use, commit to it. Indecision and hesitation only lead to disaster. A confident and well educated decision has to be made.)
*The bodies twist in air together. Dake flipping the man into a very fast and very high impact power slam. The echo of the impact can be heard bouncing off the gym walls. A cry of pain is heard.*
(Execute. The most important part. Precision and skill is required, and the execution of the selected move can not be poor. Getting the highest impact possible, that's the goal. It's not a game ... but a science for Dake. Technique is the most important part of all sports. Weather a baseball player or a football player. Technique and footwork, skill and precision ... technique.
*Dake sits on his knees for a moment. He then lays down and rolls out of the ring. He walks over to a chair and picks up a towel, whipping the sweat out of his face and hair. The other man just lays in the ring for a moment. He sits up and rubs his back. He stands up and exits the ring.*
Dake: Thought you'd be ready for that?
Man: I thought I was ... but you ...
Dake: Timed it well. You have to be ready to make adjustments at the last second. It gets in their head.
Man: It hurts my back. Hah.
Dake: If you do it like me, the situation will be reversed. ... not ... when me and you do this haha, but ... you know when you wrestle someone else.
Man: I don't know ... I think I could take you some day.
Dake: Better work on figuring out what I plan on doing. I didn't have to go to my second option. Hah.
Man: Damn ... I'll keep that in mind.
*The man walks over to another chair and picks up a towel. He walks off across the gym. He through a pair of doors. The doors make that familiar clunky metal sound and shut. Dake, who stopped using the towel during the conversation, starts using it on his arms and chest. He is slightly winded, but looks like he has something to say.*
Dake: I can't say I'm surprised.
*Dake walks over to a table that has a large water jug on it. He grabs a cup from beside the large orange cooler and holds it under it's face.*
Dake: I don't know if you just didn't understand me, or maybe it's my accent ... and I don't think I have one ... or maybe it's just the fact you didn't even listen to me.
*Dake presses the button on the spout and a stream of orange liquid pours into the cup. The steady stream quickly fills the cup. Dake quickly takes a few big gulps and sets the cup on the table. He begins to walk back to the chairs.*
Dake: I'd like to speak slowly to you now. Easy enough for you to understand. I won't use big words. I won't make this confusing. I'm going to simply restate what I've said in the past in a way that you can actually understand it. Okay?
*Dake takes a seat on one of the chairs and tosses the towel he had over his shoulder.*
Dake: Reb, I don't sell people short. I think you are a good wrestler, but I want to make it very clear to you. You have made great leaps and bounds in WCF, but you have never even come close to reaching any of my accolades sir. You said you have achieved more in your admittedly brief career than many athletes twice your age ... athletes like me. ... I don't know where in the hell you are coming from with that statement, but you have never even come close to where I have been and what I have done. I want to make that perfectly clear to you. You do not even understand. I told everyone when I came back that I was not going give them a history lesson. I don't plan on starting a class for that anytime soon, but you should understand what you are saying.
*Dake runs the towel over his face and through his hair once more.*
Dake: I might poke fun at you, and your attempt to be a male southern belle. I think it's funny, sue me. But to try and put yourself on my level. ... son you have got to be out of your mind. I think the "Inveterate Confederate" is just as crazy as everyone in the south was back then. To think you could compare yourself to me ... be serious about ... then call me run down, washed up. ... yeah.
*Dake rubs his eyes in frustration. He lets out a sigh*
Dake: You know ... I come back, make a grand return. I think, you know this time there isn't going to be some young punk acting like they are anywhere close to my level. I think, this time it's going to be different. I mean, hell, I came back and helped save the WCF. Now we have this poor excuse for a southern man trying to basically say, "HEY! I DID THAT!"
...
Could have sworn your weren't there.
*Dake stands. He holds out his arms and spins, showing off his gym.*
Dake: You see this souther boy? This is my gym. This is where I have spent the last few days training, actually getting ready for our match. I have spent the last few months getting ready to make my return. I have spent the last few years training to become the WCF champion. Yet, what have you been up to? You have done the exact thing I said you would. Albeit, you stepped it up in class, you spent your time a "gentlemens club" drinking scotch and basically sitting on your ass.
... and this is going to get you, your title shot. This is going to help you beat me? Sitting on your ass is going to help you find my "flaws" and beat me for the number one contender ship for the WCF Championship? While I train intensely and break down your technique. ... Your crazy. I am going to be very cliche and I am going to maybe come off as a bad guy for this, but I don't care. I am going to kick your ass on Slam Johnny Reb. Period. I am going to kick your ass.
*Dake stands up and tosses the towel behind his back and catches it over his shoulder. He walks out of the shot and Ric Flair like "WHOOOOOO" can be heard in the background as the shot fades out.*
(The moment of decision. An accurate choice must be made here. Here is your opponent, hurtling at you, only feet away. What do you do? Hesitate and be run over, telegraph and be countered. Use their own momentum against them? A simple arm drag? Belly to belly suplex? Or what else? Simply put your foot up and let their face slam into it, stopping them in their tracks? Endless options, some good, some bad. The situation seems all to similar to that of the pitcher and the batter. Reactions must be made in seconds, and adjustments must be made even more quickly.)
(It's situations like these can change the momentum of a match. If the defender counters, then the entire match swings in his favor. If the defender fails to evade or counter, a high impact move could be executed, sealing their fate. It's these situations where Dake has always found an advantage. Not one that has come naturally, but with much effort. Years of training and experience.)
*The shot reveals the body is running toward Dake Ken. Who is preparing for the contact. Dake is in generic wrestling gear. Black tights, black boots, black kneepads and elbow pads. He clenches and opens his heavily taped hands and his bounces on his toes slightly. It almost looks like he is a lion waiting to attack, twitching with anticipation before the strike.
Analyze the situation. What are his tendencies in this situation? Where are his feet set? Is he going high or is he going low?
*The other man in the ring is just inches from Dake. The final moment, no more thinking. Dake bends his knees slightly and turns his torso. He grabs the man and snaps him violently with a hard pop of this hips.*
(Make a decision. After figuring out what the most effective and high percentage move you can use, commit to it. Indecision and hesitation only lead to disaster. A confident and well educated decision has to be made.)
*The bodies twist in air together. Dake flipping the man into a very fast and very high impact power slam. The echo of the impact can be heard bouncing off the gym walls. A cry of pain is heard.*
(Execute. The most important part. Precision and skill is required, and the execution of the selected move can not be poor. Getting the highest impact possible, that's the goal. It's not a game ... but a science for Dake. Technique is the most important part of all sports. Weather a baseball player or a football player. Technique and footwork, skill and precision ... technique.
*Dake sits on his knees for a moment. He then lays down and rolls out of the ring. He walks over to a chair and picks up a towel, whipping the sweat out of his face and hair. The other man just lays in the ring for a moment. He sits up and rubs his back. He stands up and exits the ring.*
Dake: Thought you'd be ready for that?
Man: I thought I was ... but you ...
Dake: Timed it well. You have to be ready to make adjustments at the last second. It gets in their head.
Man: It hurts my back. Hah.
Dake: If you do it like me, the situation will be reversed. ... not ... when me and you do this haha, but ... you know when you wrestle someone else.
Man: I don't know ... I think I could take you some day.
Dake: Better work on figuring out what I plan on doing. I didn't have to go to my second option. Hah.
Man: Damn ... I'll keep that in mind.
*The man walks over to another chair and picks up a towel. He walks off across the gym. He through a pair of doors. The doors make that familiar clunky metal sound and shut. Dake, who stopped using the towel during the conversation, starts using it on his arms and chest. He is slightly winded, but looks like he has something to say.*
Dake: I can't say I'm surprised.
*Dake walks over to a table that has a large water jug on it. He grabs a cup from beside the large orange cooler and holds it under it's face.*
Dake: I don't know if you just didn't understand me, or maybe it's my accent ... and I don't think I have one ... or maybe it's just the fact you didn't even listen to me.
*Dake presses the button on the spout and a stream of orange liquid pours into the cup. The steady stream quickly fills the cup. Dake quickly takes a few big gulps and sets the cup on the table. He begins to walk back to the chairs.*
Dake: I'd like to speak slowly to you now. Easy enough for you to understand. I won't use big words. I won't make this confusing. I'm going to simply restate what I've said in the past in a way that you can actually understand it. Okay?
*Dake takes a seat on one of the chairs and tosses the towel he had over his shoulder.*
Dake: Reb, I don't sell people short. I think you are a good wrestler, but I want to make it very clear to you. You have made great leaps and bounds in WCF, but you have never even come close to reaching any of my accolades sir. You said you have achieved more in your admittedly brief career than many athletes twice your age ... athletes like me. ... I don't know where in the hell you are coming from with that statement, but you have never even come close to where I have been and what I have done. I want to make that perfectly clear to you. You do not even understand. I told everyone when I came back that I was not going give them a history lesson. I don't plan on starting a class for that anytime soon, but you should understand what you are saying.
*Dake runs the towel over his face and through his hair once more.*
Dake: I might poke fun at you, and your attempt to be a male southern belle. I think it's funny, sue me. But to try and put yourself on my level. ... son you have got to be out of your mind. I think the "Inveterate Confederate" is just as crazy as everyone in the south was back then. To think you could compare yourself to me ... be serious about ... then call me run down, washed up. ... yeah.
*Dake rubs his eyes in frustration. He lets out a sigh*
Dake: You know ... I come back, make a grand return. I think, you know this time there isn't going to be some young punk acting like they are anywhere close to my level. I think, this time it's going to be different. I mean, hell, I came back and helped save the WCF. Now we have this poor excuse for a southern man trying to basically say, "HEY! I DID THAT!"
...
Could have sworn your weren't there.
*Dake stands. He holds out his arms and spins, showing off his gym.*
Dake: You see this souther boy? This is my gym. This is where I have spent the last few days training, actually getting ready for our match. I have spent the last few months getting ready to make my return. I have spent the last few years training to become the WCF champion. Yet, what have you been up to? You have done the exact thing I said you would. Albeit, you stepped it up in class, you spent your time a "gentlemens club" drinking scotch and basically sitting on your ass.
... and this is going to get you, your title shot. This is going to help you beat me? Sitting on your ass is going to help you find my "flaws" and beat me for the number one contender ship for the WCF Championship? While I train intensely and break down your technique. ... Your crazy. I am going to be very cliche and I am going to maybe come off as a bad guy for this, but I don't care. I am going to kick your ass on Slam Johnny Reb. Period. I am going to kick your ass.
*Dake stands up and tosses the towel behind his back and catches it over his shoulder. He walks out of the shot and Ric Flair like "WHOOOOOO" can be heard in the background as the shot fades out.*
