Post by Johnny Reb on Nov 23, 2009 11:43:37 GMT -5
In the locker room of a local public gym, all is quiet. It’s not a successful gym, not part of a massive chain backed by corporate lucre, and the recession hasn’t done a lot for business. The tiny, off-white floor tiles show signs of neglect, and the rest of the place is beginning to look uncared for as well. The sound of a running shower echoes through the empty chamber for a moment, before the cascade of water is abruptly shut off.
Seconds later, Johnny Reb rounds a corner, a towel around his waist, and his blond hair dripping wet. He takes a seat on a bench, affecting not to notice the camera. Reb looks a little haggard: the last few weeks have not been particularly kind. But he’s been through worse, and things are beginning to look up.
There was a time – not so long ago – when the name of Johnny Reb was virtually synonymous with “main event.”
For four glorious weeks, I held the most coveted prize in the WCF. I took the World Title from arguably one of the best in the business – one Mr. Dake Ken – an’ defended it, week in an’ week out against veterans like Gravedigger an’ Havoc; against risin’ stars like Mikami.
Johnny shrugs nonchalantly.
Now, that’s all in the past. A man can’t spend his days dwellin’ on what he’s done before. There’s always a new challenge. This week, for example.
Reb’s lips turn up in the slightest of smiles.
This week, me an’ Doc Henry embark on a journey that will culminate at One. The two of us, workin’ together as a truly cohesive unit for the first time in a long time. In fact, we might even make it official.
I gotta say, though, that the first step on this particular quest is just a little disappointin’. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have great faith in Mr. Cash, an’ look forward to meetin’ him in the ring. This ain’t his first rodeo, after all. But he’s been saddled with a deadweight partner, an’ I reckon he ain’t any happier about it than I would be.
Regardless of how any of us may feel about the situation, it’s still our duty, as professionals, to perform to the highest standards possible. Win or lose tonight, nobody will be able to say Johnny Reb didn’t give it his all. I know the same will be true for Doc Henry, an’ I hope I’m right in assumin’ that Mr. Cash ain’t all that different from the two of us.
Even if he is a Yankee…
Johnny gets up from the bench and walks away.
Seconds later, Johnny Reb rounds a corner, a towel around his waist, and his blond hair dripping wet. He takes a seat on a bench, affecting not to notice the camera. Reb looks a little haggard: the last few weeks have not been particularly kind. But he’s been through worse, and things are beginning to look up.
There was a time – not so long ago – when the name of Johnny Reb was virtually synonymous with “main event.”
For four glorious weeks, I held the most coveted prize in the WCF. I took the World Title from arguably one of the best in the business – one Mr. Dake Ken – an’ defended it, week in an’ week out against veterans like Gravedigger an’ Havoc; against risin’ stars like Mikami.
Johnny shrugs nonchalantly.
Now, that’s all in the past. A man can’t spend his days dwellin’ on what he’s done before. There’s always a new challenge. This week, for example.
Reb’s lips turn up in the slightest of smiles.
This week, me an’ Doc Henry embark on a journey that will culminate at One. The two of us, workin’ together as a truly cohesive unit for the first time in a long time. In fact, we might even make it official.
I gotta say, though, that the first step on this particular quest is just a little disappointin’. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have great faith in Mr. Cash, an’ look forward to meetin’ him in the ring. This ain’t his first rodeo, after all. But he’s been saddled with a deadweight partner, an’ I reckon he ain’t any happier about it than I would be.
Regardless of how any of us may feel about the situation, it’s still our duty, as professionals, to perform to the highest standards possible. Win or lose tonight, nobody will be able to say Johnny Reb didn’t give it his all. I know the same will be true for Doc Henry, an’ I hope I’m right in assumin’ that Mr. Cash ain’t all that different from the two of us.
Even if he is a Yankee…
Johnny gets up from the bench and walks away.
