Post by khardaway on Apr 25, 2011 13:55:52 GMT -5
Desperate Times, Desperate Measures
4/25/2011
I want to be a man for a change and apologize to you, Reb, for the things I said in my last promo. In some places, I’d probably be fired for racial profiling, and that isn’t me. I can say mean things, I could do mean things, but I should never go THAT far. Like I said before, I’m not THAT crazy. And that goes for talking about who I’m going up against. Going the “racist” route? Hell, I should just lay down for you in the middle of the ring and have you pin me straight up.
It’s just…this is all I’ve been thinking about ever since I beat Jay Price last month in Texas. A shot at a lifetime. A chance to not only finally prove that I’m worth a damn in this world, but a chance to finish what can be arguably considered one of the best comeback stories in the history of professional wrestling. I can’t stop thinking about it. I never had this feeling before in my life. Not when I was going for the X*Crown over at the XHF back in 2006, not when I was a tag team champion, never. And it’s never going to escape my conscience until I can finally pin you and hold that title in my arms like it was a newborn kid.
I honestly look at the title you’re carrying, and it means the world to me. It means that maybe; just maybe, I’ll actually be worth a damn. Time and time again, I’ve gotten so close to the Promised Land, only to be screwed over. Whether it’d be backstage politics, or the simple fact that my opponent was just better than me, I never got my moment to shine. I was never worthy in my career…until now. It’s amazing how much changes in the world of professional wrestling in the span of a couple years. Back then, you were only allowed to cheer or boo for who they told you to. You never got your own opinion. If you made one mistake, you were out the door. Now, we live in a world where people can get their moment to shine. To them, they know they aren’t wrestling in front of 80,000 people in the biggest stadiums in the world, but they don’t care. They could be wrestling in front of only 700 people inside an old bingo hall, and it wouldn’t matter to them, because everybody is cheering his or her name, and they love it.
It reminds me of somebody I know. Somebody that I’m sure you know very well, Reb. A person that everybody thinks about when they think of me. The person who trained me, the person who became like a brother to me, the person who showed me that I could be the best at what I could do when it comes to this sport.
Here’s somebody that hasn’t gotten the itch to come back like I have, flowing inside my veins like it’s my blood. He tries to get the confidence inside him, again and again, but it’s usually just the same story every single time. He wrestles once or twice, picks up the paycheck and goes back home, pays the bills, tries to feed his own self, until he’s out of money. Rinse and repeat. Nothing’s ever been the same for him since she died. He’s been sitting in his own filth ever since. And ever since, I’ve been trying to tell him to come back, that things are different. And I get one of two things. I either get a dial tone, or I get hung up on. I haven’t physically talked to him in almost a year, just because he’s still living in the past. Somehow I believe that he’s aware that he’ll never be the same as he once was. He won’t be the most important member on the roster.
And it eats him up inside. It’s been eating him up ever since he got kicked out of his dream. Wrestling his “final match” here at WCF in front of 10,000 people, let alone being aware that it was going to be the last time, his love saw him perform in his home town wasn’t enough for him. And it kills me inside. Every morning I wake up to my cell phone going off on my night stand, I expect it to be his mother or father, telling me that he hung himself in his room the previous night. You know how that makes me feel? Nothing. I feel nothing out of it. The person I used to call my “brother” is already dead. Which is why I’m sitting here talking to you right now, Reb. It’s one of the many reasons in the world why I’m pacing back and forth, ready to try and dethrone you of your World Championship. Because I don’t want to be like him. Regardless of if my wife, Amy suddenly passed away, I wouldn’t try and waste the rest of my life away so I could be with her again, as soon as humanly possible. She would want me to go out there and kick some ass. I’ve already wasted half of my life away from this business, and I sure as hell don’t want to do it again. Sure, raising a daughter has been the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me, but if you asked my wife what means more to me than anything…she’ll tell you it’s this. Over my wife and daughter, who are tied for a close second by the way, it’s this.
You told me what that title meant to you. Well, that’s what the World title means to me, Reb. It’s not about the 300+ days on the road; it’s not about training until your heart can’t take it anymore. To me, it’s not even about how fast I went through the ladder to get to the place where I’m at tonight. What that title means to me, is DESPERATION!
I’m desperate, Reb. I need to win this title more than anything you can ever imagine. I can’t lose, because what will my daughter say to me. I don’t want her growing up knowing that I can’t make it in this business, no matter how many second chances I end up getting. I want her to grow old and learn off the success of her father. Who knows, if I win, maybe that will be the first thing she sees and decides that she wants to follow in her father’s footsteps? It’s a long shot, but why the hell not? It’s up to her. I don’t just want to win this for my daughter; I need to win this to prove to the world that I mean it. That I’m not some damn fluke who can’t make it in the big time. I failed once, I can’t fail again. And to be honest, I know if I don’t win, I’ll have many chances later, but it never hurts to try to make a damn good first impression.
It’s just the way I am now. It’s why I said those things to you, Reb. Because I wanted to get under your skin, just maybe have a chunk of your confidence chipped at like it’s your armor and get through to you, so I would actually have a chance in hell. But as the old adage goes, “what bounces off of me, sticks to you”. So you know what…good for you. Still doesn’t mean I enjoy you in any shape or form. This whole get-up here, don’t think I’m trying to play nice to you. I’m still coming to get you at Explosion. I’m just not as much of a douche as one would think. Sure, I’ll play rough if I want to, and like I said before, I can’t be this super nice person all the time. There’s a time and place for that, but for now, I need to do this.
Like I said before, I’m not a mean person, and I don’t hate your guts, Reb, regardless of what I said earlier towards you. You just have something that I so desperately need. And unless I end up dying in the middle of that ring tonight, there’s no way you’re walking out the champion. I will go to my grave trying to rip that title away. So do yourself a favor, Reb…and look at that title. Look at it as close and as passionate as you can. Because, at least for the time being, it’s going to be the last time you’ll be holding it as your own. Second to last time actually, because you’ll be holding it before the bell rings and you give it off to the referee, BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT!
The point is, as terribly clichéd as it sounds, it is my destiny tonight. Just make sure to keep your expectations at an all-time high. You understand?
I know you understand. I have a feeling that you do.
See you tonight, man!
"D"JW
4/25/2011
I want to be a man for a change and apologize to you, Reb, for the things I said in my last promo. In some places, I’d probably be fired for racial profiling, and that isn’t me. I can say mean things, I could do mean things, but I should never go THAT far. Like I said before, I’m not THAT crazy. And that goes for talking about who I’m going up against. Going the “racist” route? Hell, I should just lay down for you in the middle of the ring and have you pin me straight up.
It’s just…this is all I’ve been thinking about ever since I beat Jay Price last month in Texas. A shot at a lifetime. A chance to not only finally prove that I’m worth a damn in this world, but a chance to finish what can be arguably considered one of the best comeback stories in the history of professional wrestling. I can’t stop thinking about it. I never had this feeling before in my life. Not when I was going for the X*Crown over at the XHF back in 2006, not when I was a tag team champion, never. And it’s never going to escape my conscience until I can finally pin you and hold that title in my arms like it was a newborn kid.
I honestly look at the title you’re carrying, and it means the world to me. It means that maybe; just maybe, I’ll actually be worth a damn. Time and time again, I’ve gotten so close to the Promised Land, only to be screwed over. Whether it’d be backstage politics, or the simple fact that my opponent was just better than me, I never got my moment to shine. I was never worthy in my career…until now. It’s amazing how much changes in the world of professional wrestling in the span of a couple years. Back then, you were only allowed to cheer or boo for who they told you to. You never got your own opinion. If you made one mistake, you were out the door. Now, we live in a world where people can get their moment to shine. To them, they know they aren’t wrestling in front of 80,000 people in the biggest stadiums in the world, but they don’t care. They could be wrestling in front of only 700 people inside an old bingo hall, and it wouldn’t matter to them, because everybody is cheering his or her name, and they love it.
It reminds me of somebody I know. Somebody that I’m sure you know very well, Reb. A person that everybody thinks about when they think of me. The person who trained me, the person who became like a brother to me, the person who showed me that I could be the best at what I could do when it comes to this sport.
Here’s somebody that hasn’t gotten the itch to come back like I have, flowing inside my veins like it’s my blood. He tries to get the confidence inside him, again and again, but it’s usually just the same story every single time. He wrestles once or twice, picks up the paycheck and goes back home, pays the bills, tries to feed his own self, until he’s out of money. Rinse and repeat. Nothing’s ever been the same for him since she died. He’s been sitting in his own filth ever since. And ever since, I’ve been trying to tell him to come back, that things are different. And I get one of two things. I either get a dial tone, or I get hung up on. I haven’t physically talked to him in almost a year, just because he’s still living in the past. Somehow I believe that he’s aware that he’ll never be the same as he once was. He won’t be the most important member on the roster.
And it eats him up inside. It’s been eating him up ever since he got kicked out of his dream. Wrestling his “final match” here at WCF in front of 10,000 people, let alone being aware that it was going to be the last time, his love saw him perform in his home town wasn’t enough for him. And it kills me inside. Every morning I wake up to my cell phone going off on my night stand, I expect it to be his mother or father, telling me that he hung himself in his room the previous night. You know how that makes me feel? Nothing. I feel nothing out of it. The person I used to call my “brother” is already dead. Which is why I’m sitting here talking to you right now, Reb. It’s one of the many reasons in the world why I’m pacing back and forth, ready to try and dethrone you of your World Championship. Because I don’t want to be like him. Regardless of if my wife, Amy suddenly passed away, I wouldn’t try and waste the rest of my life away so I could be with her again, as soon as humanly possible. She would want me to go out there and kick some ass. I’ve already wasted half of my life away from this business, and I sure as hell don’t want to do it again. Sure, raising a daughter has been the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me, but if you asked my wife what means more to me than anything…she’ll tell you it’s this. Over my wife and daughter, who are tied for a close second by the way, it’s this.
You told me what that title meant to you. Well, that’s what the World title means to me, Reb. It’s not about the 300+ days on the road; it’s not about training until your heart can’t take it anymore. To me, it’s not even about how fast I went through the ladder to get to the place where I’m at tonight. What that title means to me, is DESPERATION!
I’m desperate, Reb. I need to win this title more than anything you can ever imagine. I can’t lose, because what will my daughter say to me. I don’t want her growing up knowing that I can’t make it in this business, no matter how many second chances I end up getting. I want her to grow old and learn off the success of her father. Who knows, if I win, maybe that will be the first thing she sees and decides that she wants to follow in her father’s footsteps? It’s a long shot, but why the hell not? It’s up to her. I don’t just want to win this for my daughter; I need to win this to prove to the world that I mean it. That I’m not some damn fluke who can’t make it in the big time. I failed once, I can’t fail again. And to be honest, I know if I don’t win, I’ll have many chances later, but it never hurts to try to make a damn good first impression.
It’s just the way I am now. It’s why I said those things to you, Reb. Because I wanted to get under your skin, just maybe have a chunk of your confidence chipped at like it’s your armor and get through to you, so I would actually have a chance in hell. But as the old adage goes, “what bounces off of me, sticks to you”. So you know what…good for you. Still doesn’t mean I enjoy you in any shape or form. This whole get-up here, don’t think I’m trying to play nice to you. I’m still coming to get you at Explosion. I’m just not as much of a douche as one would think. Sure, I’ll play rough if I want to, and like I said before, I can’t be this super nice person all the time. There’s a time and place for that, but for now, I need to do this.
Like I said before, I’m not a mean person, and I don’t hate your guts, Reb, regardless of what I said earlier towards you. You just have something that I so desperately need. And unless I end up dying in the middle of that ring tonight, there’s no way you’re walking out the champion. I will go to my grave trying to rip that title away. So do yourself a favor, Reb…and look at that title. Look at it as close and as passionate as you can. Because, at least for the time being, it’s going to be the last time you’ll be holding it as your own. Second to last time actually, because you’ll be holding it before the bell rings and you give it off to the referee, BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT!
The point is, as terribly clichéd as it sounds, it is my destiny tonight. Just make sure to keep your expectations at an all-time high. You understand?
I know you understand. I have a feeling that you do.
See you tonight, man!
"D"JW
