Post by darkdisciple on Nov 30, 2012 16:58:20 GMT -5
“Uncertainty is mankind’s worst enemy… I think.” – Anonymous
Yeah, I’m not an idiot. I’m not the kind of person who doesn’t notice things like this. Not much has gone right for me lately. I’ve got plenty of things I could blame it on, but it all boils down into a nice cherry reduction you can serve on vanilla ice cream… maybe with a warm brownie underneath… mmm… yeah.
See that? We made plenty of mistakes, what people consider to be normal was almost completely thrown out the window. We used too much sugar, not enough wine, and we forgot to take the pits out of our cherries. But all it took were a few adjustments, and some clever improvisation, and we end up with a Black Forest Sundae. How cool is that?
Awesome!
Annie dug her spoon into her sundae as I followed suit. The cold ice cream caused my sore jaw to tingle slightly as I allowed it to melt in my mouth. After Sir Cunningham’s council meeting had been extended to a full week, much to the chagrin of Alice, Annie and I had taken the opportunity to do absolutely everything Alice would have hated. Even with the four hour’s at the show last Thursday and the unplanned trip to the urgent medical care, I hadn’t had so much fun in a long time.
The ice cream had been her idea. After our little trip to the pet shelter had ended in disappointment, the grocery store had offered some relief in the form of frozen cream, brownie mix, and a bag of cherries. The waitress had recognized me. Wasn’t a fan of mine personally, but she had seen me wrestling with Trey Baxter before. She was a huge Trey Baxter fan after all. Maybe the biggest in the world. Her voice was California blonde. She rolled her eyes a lot as she spoke.
I autographed a receipt for her.
It was the sort of fan interactions I had gotten used to. “Oh, you’re that guy who lost to…” and so on. Such was my life as a glorified jobber. I could say something here like “but no longer will I be content on the bottom” or some equally weak-willed manure. But that would be… you know… weak-willed manure. It’s not like I was trying my best to lose to Taufik, or to Johnny Clash, or to Trey Baxter, or to Christian Carter, or to Chris Cable… you get the point. It’s not that I lacked the skill, or the will, or the thrill. I just wasn’t winning despite my best efforts.
After desert, Annie headed up to play in her room. I made my way downstairs. Climbing into the practice ring, I did a couple of ring-runs back and forth to loosen up. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, but my match against Drake Hunter was coming up tomorrow. The MPW Doc had been enthusiastically trying to keep me from setting foot in the ring on Friday, but I didn’t care. Even if I was probably going to lose, which I wasn’t planning on, I wasn’t going to give Drake the pleasure of my not showing up. An I Quit Match was interesting. It was a test of willpower. Nobody had ever questioned my will. Wrestling was my life. The smell of musky canvas, the bitter taste of sweat, the feeling of the ropes and the canvas and the opponent; they all were what I loved about this so much.
It was at that point I realized I was talking aloud to myself. I glanced up at the camera pointed right at me, then over at the microphone sitting upon the desk over on the side. I slid out of the ring and picked up the mic. I glanced back at the camera again.
Why not?
After a couple of minutes of preparation I slid back into the ring and pointed at the camera.
You’re wrong Drake. I don’t do this because I owe the fans anything. I don’t do this to appease some higher power. Trust me. If I was kissing any asses in MPW I would be a champion right now. I’ve been in those positions before. I’ve played by all the rules made up on the spot, I’ve done what was asked of me, I’ve been ‘that guy’ and I’ve loved being him. But that’s not who I am right now. Right now, I’m a guy who loves to wrestle. I’m just a guy who’s studied, listened to some of the best grapplers in the world. Gone to training sessions, worked my ass off, spent half of my life wrestling, and look where it got me. Treading water. But have I asked for weaker opponents? Have I said “Why am I fighting Main Eventers I can’t beat? Why can’t I have a TV Title shot? Or a North American Title shot? No. Because I’m not ‘that guy’ anymore. I’m not here to make the fans happy. I’m not here to keep them entertained, I just do. I do what I love, and people love watching me do it. You want to save professional wrestling? From what? From the people who watch it? That is the dumbest thing I think I have ever heard you say, and that is saying quite a lot.
I don’t know what it is you are trying to do Drake, you’ve never been very good at explaining what is going on through that kooky Australian brain of yours. What is it you want? You want wrestling matches to take place in empty arenas? You want nobody to ever watch another wrestling match? Because that’s what you’re saying. And you say I’m the stupid one? We were all fans before we got here Drake. We all sat on our asses in front of the TV and talked about what we WANTED. And it was those moments when we got something we didn’t even know we wanted that made us want to get to where we are now. And we both did it. But I haven’t forgotten that feeling. That’s why I still love doing this.
You say I’m the one causing the war. You are wrong about that Drake. When we get into that ring, it isn’t going to end until one of us admits we can’t take anymore. You know how much I can take. We all saw it last week when you hit me from the back like a coward. Maybe I’m not 100%, maybe I am. I don’t really care. Because either way. I promise you, I promise every single MPW fan, and I promise myself, no matter what you do to me in that ring, no matter what hell we put each other through, no matter how much agony I’m in, or how many bones you break, I’m not going to say a damn thing. And then Drake, I’m going to get out of whatever you’ve got me in, I’m going to put you in one of my own, and I’m going to make you… quit.
I shut off the camera and sighed. I felt someone’s eyes on me and glanced over to my right. Annie was looking at me from her vantage point on the stairs. We stared awkwardly at each other for a couple seconds before she shrugged and broke eye contact. I smirked.
You wanna play something?
She smiled and sprinted eagerly towards the Television couch. I headed over and accepted the X-Box controller she flung at me. She would probably kick my ass at whatever she chose, but that was fine with me too. It wasn’t about winning. It was about having fun, and making sure other people had even more fun than you did.
Yeah, I’m not an idiot. I’m not the kind of person who doesn’t notice things like this. Not much has gone right for me lately. I’ve got plenty of things I could blame it on, but it all boils down into a nice cherry reduction you can serve on vanilla ice cream… maybe with a warm brownie underneath… mmm… yeah.
See that? We made plenty of mistakes, what people consider to be normal was almost completely thrown out the window. We used too much sugar, not enough wine, and we forgot to take the pits out of our cherries. But all it took were a few adjustments, and some clever improvisation, and we end up with a Black Forest Sundae. How cool is that?
Awesome!
Annie dug her spoon into her sundae as I followed suit. The cold ice cream caused my sore jaw to tingle slightly as I allowed it to melt in my mouth. After Sir Cunningham’s council meeting had been extended to a full week, much to the chagrin of Alice, Annie and I had taken the opportunity to do absolutely everything Alice would have hated. Even with the four hour’s at the show last Thursday and the unplanned trip to the urgent medical care, I hadn’t had so much fun in a long time.
The ice cream had been her idea. After our little trip to the pet shelter had ended in disappointment, the grocery store had offered some relief in the form of frozen cream, brownie mix, and a bag of cherries. The waitress had recognized me. Wasn’t a fan of mine personally, but she had seen me wrestling with Trey Baxter before. She was a huge Trey Baxter fan after all. Maybe the biggest in the world. Her voice was California blonde. She rolled her eyes a lot as she spoke.
I autographed a receipt for her.
It was the sort of fan interactions I had gotten used to. “Oh, you’re that guy who lost to…” and so on. Such was my life as a glorified jobber. I could say something here like “but no longer will I be content on the bottom” or some equally weak-willed manure. But that would be… you know… weak-willed manure. It’s not like I was trying my best to lose to Taufik, or to Johnny Clash, or to Trey Baxter, or to Christian Carter, or to Chris Cable… you get the point. It’s not that I lacked the skill, or the will, or the thrill. I just wasn’t winning despite my best efforts.
After desert, Annie headed up to play in her room. I made my way downstairs. Climbing into the practice ring, I did a couple of ring-runs back and forth to loosen up. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, but my match against Drake Hunter was coming up tomorrow. The MPW Doc had been enthusiastically trying to keep me from setting foot in the ring on Friday, but I didn’t care. Even if I was probably going to lose, which I wasn’t planning on, I wasn’t going to give Drake the pleasure of my not showing up. An I Quit Match was interesting. It was a test of willpower. Nobody had ever questioned my will. Wrestling was my life. The smell of musky canvas, the bitter taste of sweat, the feeling of the ropes and the canvas and the opponent; they all were what I loved about this so much.
It was at that point I realized I was talking aloud to myself. I glanced up at the camera pointed right at me, then over at the microphone sitting upon the desk over on the side. I slid out of the ring and picked up the mic. I glanced back at the camera again.
Why not?
After a couple of minutes of preparation I slid back into the ring and pointed at the camera.
You’re wrong Drake. I don’t do this because I owe the fans anything. I don’t do this to appease some higher power. Trust me. If I was kissing any asses in MPW I would be a champion right now. I’ve been in those positions before. I’ve played by all the rules made up on the spot, I’ve done what was asked of me, I’ve been ‘that guy’ and I’ve loved being him. But that’s not who I am right now. Right now, I’m a guy who loves to wrestle. I’m just a guy who’s studied, listened to some of the best grapplers in the world. Gone to training sessions, worked my ass off, spent half of my life wrestling, and look where it got me. Treading water. But have I asked for weaker opponents? Have I said “Why am I fighting Main Eventers I can’t beat? Why can’t I have a TV Title shot? Or a North American Title shot? No. Because I’m not ‘that guy’ anymore. I’m not here to make the fans happy. I’m not here to keep them entertained, I just do. I do what I love, and people love watching me do it. You want to save professional wrestling? From what? From the people who watch it? That is the dumbest thing I think I have ever heard you say, and that is saying quite a lot.
I don’t know what it is you are trying to do Drake, you’ve never been very good at explaining what is going on through that kooky Australian brain of yours. What is it you want? You want wrestling matches to take place in empty arenas? You want nobody to ever watch another wrestling match? Because that’s what you’re saying. And you say I’m the stupid one? We were all fans before we got here Drake. We all sat on our asses in front of the TV and talked about what we WANTED. And it was those moments when we got something we didn’t even know we wanted that made us want to get to where we are now. And we both did it. But I haven’t forgotten that feeling. That’s why I still love doing this.
You say I’m the one causing the war. You are wrong about that Drake. When we get into that ring, it isn’t going to end until one of us admits we can’t take anymore. You know how much I can take. We all saw it last week when you hit me from the back like a coward. Maybe I’m not 100%, maybe I am. I don’t really care. Because either way. I promise you, I promise every single MPW fan, and I promise myself, no matter what you do to me in that ring, no matter what hell we put each other through, no matter how much agony I’m in, or how many bones you break, I’m not going to say a damn thing. And then Drake, I’m going to get out of whatever you’ve got me in, I’m going to put you in one of my own, and I’m going to make you… quit.
I shut off the camera and sighed. I felt someone’s eyes on me and glanced over to my right. Annie was looking at me from her vantage point on the stairs. We stared awkwardly at each other for a couple seconds before she shrugged and broke eye contact. I smirked.
You wanna play something?
She smiled and sprinted eagerly towards the Television couch. I headed over and accepted the X-Box controller she flung at me. She would probably kick my ass at whatever she chose, but that was fine with me too. It wasn’t about winning. It was about having fun, and making sure other people had even more fun than you did.
