Post by Deleted on Jul 26, 2009 16:05:47 GMT -5
Fade in to Mikami sitting on a couch in his loft, watching an old wrestling tape. Like, decade-plus old. The match on the television screen involves...
Mikami: Bret Hart. The Excellence of Execution. None of us in my match Sunday night can hold a candle to him. For that matter, I would say that nobody in the WCF is his equal. “The best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be.” I just started watching this sport around the time he ascended to the main event. Of course, at such a young age, I could not appreciate his talent. His technique. But when I did gain that ability, even though it was on the downside of his career...those were good times. However, I am not watching this to reminisce. Instead, I am watching this, and I am asking myself: what can I learn?
He crosses his legs and steeples his fingers. The camera moves around so it is now facing him instead of the television.
Mikami: In a way, you could say that all of us in this match carry on a piece of the Hitman's legacy. Ryan Daniels. He has a never-say-die attitude. He even uses the Sharpshooter as part of his repertoire. Allen Guiliano. The similarities are a little less obvious, but they are there. At the height of Bret Hart's career, he was the all-around good guy. Even when he was not, he always showed respect for his opponents. He was crafty in this way. If you run your opponent down, tell him he has no talent, then great, you beat a no-talent. Build your opponent up, and then you look better when you win. “Slickie T” operates in much the same way. And finally, D-Day. Frankly, it is hard to know what to make of him. Maybe it is a bit of a stretch to say he has anything in common with Bret Hart, but I am going to try to make the connection anyway. They are both technically trained. Both around the same size.
He shrugs.
Mikami: Give or take a couple inches. And finally, Bret Hart, like many wrestlers, seemed to exist in some other world. He came and visited for a few hours a week to entertain us, and then he went back to his own dimension. A place where wrestlers were hitmen. Where pink and black were perfectly reasonable colors to wear. A place where sunglasses were really cool looking, in a cheesy kind of way. And if any wrestler acts like he comes from an alternate dimension with an alternate history, well, it has to be D-Day. You know what I'm talking about.
Mikami uncrosses his legs.
Mikami: And what about me? How do I fit into this puzzle? What do I learn from this great warrior? What I take from watching this tape is, the whole “Hitman” thing, it was not just a clever gimmick, tying everything together into a presentable package. No, he treated what went on in the ring as a war. But he was not an ordinary ground soldier. He was a sniper. Picking off body parts, attacking the legs to weaken them for one final blow. That is what I have lost. This is a war. I need to recognize that once again if I want to win. This Sunday. And from now on.
The camera backs away, ending with the same shot of Mikami watching the television. The match is over now. The Canadian raises one arm in victory. Mikami, on the couch, does the same.
Mikami: Bret Hart. The Excellence of Execution. None of us in my match Sunday night can hold a candle to him. For that matter, I would say that nobody in the WCF is his equal. “The best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be.” I just started watching this sport around the time he ascended to the main event. Of course, at such a young age, I could not appreciate his talent. His technique. But when I did gain that ability, even though it was on the downside of his career...those were good times. However, I am not watching this to reminisce. Instead, I am watching this, and I am asking myself: what can I learn?
He crosses his legs and steeples his fingers. The camera moves around so it is now facing him instead of the television.
Mikami: In a way, you could say that all of us in this match carry on a piece of the Hitman's legacy. Ryan Daniels. He has a never-say-die attitude. He even uses the Sharpshooter as part of his repertoire. Allen Guiliano. The similarities are a little less obvious, but they are there. At the height of Bret Hart's career, he was the all-around good guy. Even when he was not, he always showed respect for his opponents. He was crafty in this way. If you run your opponent down, tell him he has no talent, then great, you beat a no-talent. Build your opponent up, and then you look better when you win. “Slickie T” operates in much the same way. And finally, D-Day. Frankly, it is hard to know what to make of him. Maybe it is a bit of a stretch to say he has anything in common with Bret Hart, but I am going to try to make the connection anyway. They are both technically trained. Both around the same size.
He shrugs.
Mikami: Give or take a couple inches. And finally, Bret Hart, like many wrestlers, seemed to exist in some other world. He came and visited for a few hours a week to entertain us, and then he went back to his own dimension. A place where wrestlers were hitmen. Where pink and black were perfectly reasonable colors to wear. A place where sunglasses were really cool looking, in a cheesy kind of way. And if any wrestler acts like he comes from an alternate dimension with an alternate history, well, it has to be D-Day. You know what I'm talking about.
Mikami uncrosses his legs.
Mikami: And what about me? How do I fit into this puzzle? What do I learn from this great warrior? What I take from watching this tape is, the whole “Hitman” thing, it was not just a clever gimmick, tying everything together into a presentable package. No, he treated what went on in the ring as a war. But he was not an ordinary ground soldier. He was a sniper. Picking off body parts, attacking the legs to weaken them for one final blow. That is what I have lost. This is a war. I need to recognize that once again if I want to win. This Sunday. And from now on.
The camera backs away, ending with the same shot of Mikami watching the television. The match is over now. The Canadian raises one arm in victory. Mikami, on the couch, does the same.
