Post by James Stall on Jul 28, 2011 10:58:22 GMT
I remember my first Jealousy and the excitement that came from beating some of the best tag teams FWF has had to offer and performing well in the Jealousy tournament in the same night. I remember the blood pumping through my body and the endorphins shooting off despite all the pain. It was an amazing time for a young warrior who had only been in FWF for a couple of months and was already showing such promise.
Now everything feels numb. I look at the tournament listing and I don’t feel a shred of excitement. Don’t get me wrong I feel something. I feel deep, cold, anger. Mostly this stems from the fact that my opening round match is not one on one. No. Instead I’ve been lumped into a tag match with MTB against Benny Starr and Jack Cool. It’s not the fact that my tag titles are on the line. I would defend those anywhere, anytime. It’s the fact that yet again attempts for me to break out on my own are stymied. Sure I may come off as arrogant at times, but I’m able to be honest with myself. Ever since that phenomenal first Jealousy my career has been (and you’ll have to excuse the completely unintentional pun here) stalled. The fact is I needed a singles win in the first round of the Jealousy Tournament, but I won’t be getting that. Upset doesn’t begin to describe how I’m feeling.
That’s why I made a brief trip to the ring during a house show the day before
“Who gives a shit about Jack Cool? I’m sorry was that a little brash. Let me take you back and ease you into that again. In the Jealousy Tournament I’m supposed to face Jack Cool in the first round. So I ask you again, who gives a shit about Jack Cool? Apparently management here doesn’t because he doesn’t even rate well enough to get me one on one. He’s constantly attached at the dick to Benny Starr even when facing competition. So I’m not going to worry about this match. Marcus will love another pin to add to his resume. Fine. Let the warrior of the month have his fun. I’m going to be saving myself for the real show. Then the world will see why I’m the better tag team partner.
But before I go I would like to address one other member of this match. Benny. It should be you and me fighting one on one, and I’m waiting eagerly for that day. When it comes I’m going to show you who’s got the stronger fist because I am going to straight up knock you out.”
It’s five in the morning now and I can’t sleep, mostly because my head is pounding from one of the worst headaches I’ve ever felt. I keep thinking about the match I have today against Better Than Sex, and I keep thinking about all of the implications of losing. A lose now would mean not only a lose of my titles but elimination from the Jealousy tournament in the first round. What would I do then? Compete in the Jealousy Battle Royal. That would do absolutely nothing for my career right now.
Then it hits me. I don’t care about either of my opponents in this match because there is only one person in this match that I am actually focused on, Marcus. I need to win this match, not because I need to pick up yet another victory over Better Than Sex, but because I need to survive the Jealousy Tournament so that I can face Marcus in the final. So I’ll let Marcus get the pin, and I’ll let Marcus enjoy being Warrior of the Month because the bigger he’s built up now the more exposure I’ll get once I beat him. Now that’s a beautiful plan. So enjoy your moment for now Marcus because it won’t last long.
It’s the day of Live-Wire right now. I’m in my locker room and next to me is my good friend and training partner Adam Foulds. Live-Wire is in a few hours and I’m preparing with an order of Cinnamon sticks that I bought from a Pizza Place a few blocks from the arena. I’m dressed only in my wrestling tights. Adam is in a pink track suit. He is standing there as I sit in a plain metal folding chair.
“What are you doing?”
I look up at him.
“Eating cinnamon sticks.”
He shakes his head.
“You’re losing it mate.”
“Au contraire I’ve never been saner. These cinnamon sticks are delicious.”
“I’m talking about your match mate. What are you just blowing it off?”
That was pretty much what I had planned on doing. I’ve grown tired of Better Than Sex. I’ve grown tired of teaming with Marcus. Hell, at this point I’ve been growing tired of FWF.
“I don’t care about them.”
“You don’t care about Jealousy?”
I'm not even sure anymore.
“Look Adam. I’ve beaten Starr and Cool together already. Let Marcus handle this one. He wants to show off anyway.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“What?”
Adam leans down toward me. He pushes my head with one hand. I drop a cinnamon stick. If he was anyone else I would break his hand.
“You need to get your head together.”
“My head is perfectly clear. There’s no point in me pushing myself when Marcus can handle these two just fine. I’ll get in there, mess their faces up a little bit and let Marcus finish the rest. As much as I’d hate to admit it, he’s talented.”
“You’re willing to risk this all on your bloody partner?”
“Hey. I didn’t say I wasn’t going to show up to the match. If for some reason he really needs me I’ll be there to save his ass.”
I still like to win after all. And hey if there's an opportunity to show Marcus up I'm bound to take it.
“If this is about FWF Magazine….”
“This isn’t about that.”
I don't want to believe it could be about that. But I know. I know it is. That lack of faith, the lack of recognition... it's disgusting. It's...
“I know it’s disappointing, but-”
“Fuck ‘em. Fuck each and every last one of them. You remember something Adam. I don’t need this company. This company needs me. In New Era Wrestling I sent a guy to the hospital needing surgery. I hit his brother with two powerbombs an electric chair drop that slammed his face into the turnbuckle, and then I made him tap to the Captain Clutch. I have been in both main events in the Forza Wrestling Alliance and won them both!”
“I know that.”
“I’m fucking talented!”
I slam my fist into the side of my chair.
“Yes you-“
“But if they don’t want to see that then fuck them. I’m seriously considering just packing up and calling it. I can make my name somewhere else.”
Am I crying? I hope to God I'm not crying.
“You just signed a new contract.
"Screw that. I can pay the penalties. I was right. I was always right. There’s no respect here.”
Adam places a hand on my shoulder.
“You’re not going to leave mate.”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“Because it’s FWF mate.”
“So?”
“So do you really want to win your first World title outside of FWF.”
Damnit. I hate it when he makes good points. I was born to be here. This is what I've spent my whole life living toward. Sure I could be succesful anywhere, but it wouldn't be the same as being succesful here.
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“But that doesn’t change anything about this match. If Marcus wants to show he’s the best let him prove it. Let him take the lumps. I’ll wipe him out soon enough.”
“That’s the spirit mate. When you get to the second round I’ve got an idea to help you train.”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
Now everything feels numb. I look at the tournament listing and I don’t feel a shred of excitement. Don’t get me wrong I feel something. I feel deep, cold, anger. Mostly this stems from the fact that my opening round match is not one on one. No. Instead I’ve been lumped into a tag match with MTB against Benny Starr and Jack Cool. It’s not the fact that my tag titles are on the line. I would defend those anywhere, anytime. It’s the fact that yet again attempts for me to break out on my own are stymied. Sure I may come off as arrogant at times, but I’m able to be honest with myself. Ever since that phenomenal first Jealousy my career has been (and you’ll have to excuse the completely unintentional pun here) stalled. The fact is I needed a singles win in the first round of the Jealousy Tournament, but I won’t be getting that. Upset doesn’t begin to describe how I’m feeling.
That’s why I made a brief trip to the ring during a house show the day before
“Who gives a shit about Jack Cool? I’m sorry was that a little brash. Let me take you back and ease you into that again. In the Jealousy Tournament I’m supposed to face Jack Cool in the first round. So I ask you again, who gives a shit about Jack Cool? Apparently management here doesn’t because he doesn’t even rate well enough to get me one on one. He’s constantly attached at the dick to Benny Starr even when facing competition. So I’m not going to worry about this match. Marcus will love another pin to add to his resume. Fine. Let the warrior of the month have his fun. I’m going to be saving myself for the real show. Then the world will see why I’m the better tag team partner.
But before I go I would like to address one other member of this match. Benny. It should be you and me fighting one on one, and I’m waiting eagerly for that day. When it comes I’m going to show you who’s got the stronger fist because I am going to straight up knock you out.”
It’s five in the morning now and I can’t sleep, mostly because my head is pounding from one of the worst headaches I’ve ever felt. I keep thinking about the match I have today against Better Than Sex, and I keep thinking about all of the implications of losing. A lose now would mean not only a lose of my titles but elimination from the Jealousy tournament in the first round. What would I do then? Compete in the Jealousy Battle Royal. That would do absolutely nothing for my career right now.
Then it hits me. I don’t care about either of my opponents in this match because there is only one person in this match that I am actually focused on, Marcus. I need to win this match, not because I need to pick up yet another victory over Better Than Sex, but because I need to survive the Jealousy Tournament so that I can face Marcus in the final. So I’ll let Marcus get the pin, and I’ll let Marcus enjoy being Warrior of the Month because the bigger he’s built up now the more exposure I’ll get once I beat him. Now that’s a beautiful plan. So enjoy your moment for now Marcus because it won’t last long.
It’s the day of Live-Wire right now. I’m in my locker room and next to me is my good friend and training partner Adam Foulds. Live-Wire is in a few hours and I’m preparing with an order of Cinnamon sticks that I bought from a Pizza Place a few blocks from the arena. I’m dressed only in my wrestling tights. Adam is in a pink track suit. He is standing there as I sit in a plain metal folding chair.
“What are you doing?”
I look up at him.
“Eating cinnamon sticks.”
He shakes his head.
“You’re losing it mate.”
“Au contraire I’ve never been saner. These cinnamon sticks are delicious.”
“I’m talking about your match mate. What are you just blowing it off?”
That was pretty much what I had planned on doing. I’ve grown tired of Better Than Sex. I’ve grown tired of teaming with Marcus. Hell, at this point I’ve been growing tired of FWF.
“I don’t care about them.”
“You don’t care about Jealousy?”
I'm not even sure anymore.
“Look Adam. I’ve beaten Starr and Cool together already. Let Marcus handle this one. He wants to show off anyway.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“What?”
Adam leans down toward me. He pushes my head with one hand. I drop a cinnamon stick. If he was anyone else I would break his hand.
“You need to get your head together.”
“My head is perfectly clear. There’s no point in me pushing myself when Marcus can handle these two just fine. I’ll get in there, mess their faces up a little bit and let Marcus finish the rest. As much as I’d hate to admit it, he’s talented.”
“You’re willing to risk this all on your bloody partner?”
“Hey. I didn’t say I wasn’t going to show up to the match. If for some reason he really needs me I’ll be there to save his ass.”
I still like to win after all. And hey if there's an opportunity to show Marcus up I'm bound to take it.
“If this is about FWF Magazine….”
“This isn’t about that.”
I don't want to believe it could be about that. But I know. I know it is. That lack of faith, the lack of recognition... it's disgusting. It's...
“I know it’s disappointing, but-”
“Fuck ‘em. Fuck each and every last one of them. You remember something Adam. I don’t need this company. This company needs me. In New Era Wrestling I sent a guy to the hospital needing surgery. I hit his brother with two powerbombs an electric chair drop that slammed his face into the turnbuckle, and then I made him tap to the Captain Clutch. I have been in both main events in the Forza Wrestling Alliance and won them both!”
“I know that.”
“I’m fucking talented!”
I slam my fist into the side of my chair.
“Yes you-“
“But if they don’t want to see that then fuck them. I’m seriously considering just packing up and calling it. I can make my name somewhere else.”
Am I crying? I hope to God I'm not crying.
“You just signed a new contract.
"Screw that. I can pay the penalties. I was right. I was always right. There’s no respect here.”
Adam places a hand on my shoulder.
“You’re not going to leave mate.”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“Because it’s FWF mate.”
“So?”
“So do you really want to win your first World title outside of FWF.”
Damnit. I hate it when he makes good points. I was born to be here. This is what I've spent my whole life living toward. Sure I could be succesful anywhere, but it wouldn't be the same as being succesful here.
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“But that doesn’t change anything about this match. If Marcus wants to show he’s the best let him prove it. Let him take the lumps. I’ll wipe him out soon enough.”
“That’s the spirit mate. When you get to the second round I’ve got an idea to help you train.”
“I’ll take you up on that.”