Post by Sara Garcia on Jul 24, 2017 4:06:47 GMT
San Diego is a lovely place to be. I’m a lovely person. It really is quite the natural fit and it’s clearly where I wish I was right now instead of sitting inside, looking outside at the pouring rain in the cold that is Switzerland. I sit there with my legs crossed, overlooking one of the busy streets before turning toward the camera aimed in my direction.
A lot has been made of my loyalty to my sister since she took the big step and not only became the Shieldmaiden of the IWF but the Diamonds Champion as well. They say I’m nothing but a lackey. They say that I’m the bag carrier while my sister is the shining star. You don’t listen to my words, you don’t heed my warnings, and for that you’ll just have to pay the price.
My sister and I are equals in the fact that we are both rising stars in this company. We are both members of the Garcia brand, and now, this week, live I have a chance to ascend to that level in the eyes of all of you...though it really doesn’t matter for your opinions are irrelevant, it’s just nice to shut you all up once and for all.
To do that…
I have to go through a couple psychos and a Barbie doll wannabe.
I shrug my shoulders.
I know what you’re thinking, you’re probably calling me a Barbie with dark hair, but I’m telling you here and now that you couldn’t be any farther from the truth. Let’s talk about this though...let’s talk about Brooklyn Madrox shall we? Let’s talk about how she hasn’t been seen since the Diamond in the Rough Tournament. Let’s talk about the fact that even in that tournament...she wasn’t any good, heck, she didn’t even make it to the finals of said tournament.
What the hell has she EVER done to deserve this type of shot, this sort of opportunity?
The answer...not a damn thing.
So I’m sure she’s under a desk somewhere using some sort of other talents she’d rather you not hear about to continue on with her little girl gimmick of probably never having ever kissed a boy...or whatever she decides to talk about.
Little girl, you’re in waaay over your head. You don’t have a chance in this match, you don’t even have a hope nor a prayer. You’re there as cannon fodder for the other women in that match. I know it, the rest in the match know it, and most importantly...you know it. So please, do us all the favor of staying home. Don’t even show up...you’re not worth our time...especially mine.
I stand from the chair I was sitting in and walk up to the French doors that lead out to the balcony. I stand in front of it with my arms crossed.
So now that the pest is out of sight and now out of mind, there’s a couple of girls who belong in the looney bin more so than they do an IWF ring. One of them being Helena Sawyer, a woman with promise, a woman who had a shot at my sister when she was champion before Alexis cost her the opportunity. I see it with you, though in a sickly, more twisted way than myself, a similar hunger to my own. You want to show the world that you’re not someone stuck up against that glass ceiling. You want to show the world that you’re not just fodder, you want to make the words of the idiot pundits taste bittersweet in their mouths.
You...well...just have a bit different of a way of expressing such desires.
You have a less sophisticated, less modern way. You look like a savage, and you try your hardest to brutally force your way through the ranks whereas I’m a bit more, how do I put it? Hmmm, political?
I shake my head.
I don’t mean like James Gilmore or his wench. I mean with more intelligence. I think things out before I do them. There’s a reason for every single, solitary thing I do. There’s a reason I step in that ring, there will be a reason why I win, and there will be a reason I become the new Diamonds Champion at Lineage...because I’m better.
The rain had stopped and I opened the doors to the balcony, taking a step out onto the cement pad, grabbing hold of the iron rail in front of me I peer out over the horizon as the sun tries it’s best to fight through the dreary clouds. The moisture in the air was apparent all around, but the people below carried on about their day.
It’s funny isn’t it Rowan?
I turn to the camera.
Obviously you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about. How could you? You, she who lives in desolation, isolating herself, only wanting to cause problems and pain for others. Yet you’re truly just another in the long list, the winding line of little girls who just wishes they could be accepted into the world.
Sure you portray this killer mentality, but as your allegiance with The Council seems to indicate, you just want someone to be there and tell you “good job”, because let’s face it creep, you couldn’t truly get the job done on your own.
I don’t mean hurting people or ending a career or two, no, that you can do. When there’s no rules to confine you, to stifle you, you can do whatever you want and get away with it...you’re good at that. When there’s rules? When there’s a strategy to be employed rather than just endless chaos and anarchy, quite frankly, Fiona Mcfly has a better track record than you, and I know you haven’t been here that long, but that’s definitely saying something.
You see Rowan, there’s more to this world than how you see it. There’s more than just chaos, there’s more than just pain, and there’s more than just suffering. I understand you weren’t hugged enough as a child, but surely you can understand that there’s a greater picture, a grandeur design no?
I point to myself.
I have goals in this business. I want to be the best wrestler imaginable. I want to hold titles and continue the wave of success my sister achieved for the last year or so. She paved the way for me, she showed my how to walk that yellow brick road, and when the Wicked Witch, in this situation, the three of you, come to knock me off that path, to disturb my jolly skip, she showed my how to drop the house on top of you.
I’ve taken her knowledge, and the training of some of the best in this business, and gathered it with my own observations, my own skills, and I’ve formed quite possibly the best package possible...in theory.
I point to the camera.
Rowan, you’re big and bad when you lerk in the shadows of anarchy, but when the lights shine brightest, you’re nothing but a blip on the radar...as your career thus far would show. You’re supposed to be the scary monster that instills fear in all of those who oppose you, sending them running to the farthest of lands.
I point to the side of my head, acknowledging my own smarts.
I know the truth Rowan. I know you’re not that big bad monster, but quite the contrary. You’re simply the bedtime story told to the children of the world to make sure they don’t misbehave. News flash little girl, while you’re “playing” monster...I’m doing things you can only hope to do...like becoming Number One Contender…
Like going to Lineage and taking on Pandora Freeman for the Diamonds Championship.
Like extending the Era of the Garcias and taking it to even greater heights…
Like becoming your NEW IWF Diamonds...CHAMPION!
I turn back to the streets, staring out over the crowd as the scene fades.
A lot has been made of my loyalty to my sister since she took the big step and not only became the Shieldmaiden of the IWF but the Diamonds Champion as well. They say I’m nothing but a lackey. They say that I’m the bag carrier while my sister is the shining star. You don’t listen to my words, you don’t heed my warnings, and for that you’ll just have to pay the price.
My sister and I are equals in the fact that we are both rising stars in this company. We are both members of the Garcia brand, and now, this week, live I have a chance to ascend to that level in the eyes of all of you...though it really doesn’t matter for your opinions are irrelevant, it’s just nice to shut you all up once and for all.
To do that…
I have to go through a couple psychos and a Barbie doll wannabe.
I shrug my shoulders.
I know what you’re thinking, you’re probably calling me a Barbie with dark hair, but I’m telling you here and now that you couldn’t be any farther from the truth. Let’s talk about this though...let’s talk about Brooklyn Madrox shall we? Let’s talk about how she hasn’t been seen since the Diamond in the Rough Tournament. Let’s talk about the fact that even in that tournament...she wasn’t any good, heck, she didn’t even make it to the finals of said tournament.
What the hell has she EVER done to deserve this type of shot, this sort of opportunity?
The answer...not a damn thing.
So I’m sure she’s under a desk somewhere using some sort of other talents she’d rather you not hear about to continue on with her little girl gimmick of probably never having ever kissed a boy...or whatever she decides to talk about.
Little girl, you’re in waaay over your head. You don’t have a chance in this match, you don’t even have a hope nor a prayer. You’re there as cannon fodder for the other women in that match. I know it, the rest in the match know it, and most importantly...you know it. So please, do us all the favor of staying home. Don’t even show up...you’re not worth our time...especially mine.
I stand from the chair I was sitting in and walk up to the French doors that lead out to the balcony. I stand in front of it with my arms crossed.
So now that the pest is out of sight and now out of mind, there’s a couple of girls who belong in the looney bin more so than they do an IWF ring. One of them being Helena Sawyer, a woman with promise, a woman who had a shot at my sister when she was champion before Alexis cost her the opportunity. I see it with you, though in a sickly, more twisted way than myself, a similar hunger to my own. You want to show the world that you’re not someone stuck up against that glass ceiling. You want to show the world that you’re not just fodder, you want to make the words of the idiot pundits taste bittersweet in their mouths.
You...well...just have a bit different of a way of expressing such desires.
You have a less sophisticated, less modern way. You look like a savage, and you try your hardest to brutally force your way through the ranks whereas I’m a bit more, how do I put it? Hmmm, political?
I shake my head.
I don’t mean like James Gilmore or his wench. I mean with more intelligence. I think things out before I do them. There’s a reason for every single, solitary thing I do. There’s a reason I step in that ring, there will be a reason why I win, and there will be a reason I become the new Diamonds Champion at Lineage...because I’m better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
”A Huge Step”
I have been training in the IWF Performance Center for a long time, more potently now. I’ve gotten in there and gotten down and dirty, and I feel over and over again that I’ve hit my limit. And then I’m pushed even further. I’ve learned new moves. I’ve learned psychology in that ring. I learned how to maneuver around, how to position myself better, how to put myself in the best position to succeed.
July 17, 2017
I grab hold of Ashley in the center of the ring, dragging her to the mat, rolling back to her legs, locking her up in the center of the ring in an Indian Deathlock, showing the new moves I’ve learned where she taps out. We get up in the center, each breathing heavily.
Ashley Mastrangelo: Excellent transition. I couldn’t do it better myself.
Sara Garcia: Thanks. Do you think I’m getting better at this?
Ashley Mastrangelo: How about I answer your question with a question. How do you think you did? How do you feel?
Sara Garcia: Definitely more comfortable in the ring. I feel like before I was a little clunky in things like a transition, or just timing in general, whereas now, I feel it’s just more fluid in the ring.
Ashley Mastrangelo: See? You answered my question for me.
Before our conversation can continue, I hear my phone ringing off to the side in my bag, the ringtone matching that of Riley Gordon, one of the heads of the Diamonds Division. I excuse myself for a moment and leave Ashley standing in the ring as I roll out under the bottom rope and quickly grab hold of my phone.
Sara Garcia: Hello? Yeah? Really? But...okay, no buts, I’ll be there. Thank you so much for the opportunity. See you next week. Bye!
I stuffed my phone back in the pocket of my bag. I was slightly overwhelmed as I stammered back toward the ring.
Ashley Mastrangelo: You look like you’ve seen a ghost Sara.
I slowly climbed back on the apron.
Sara Garcia: Yeah, that was Riley.
Ashley Mastrangelo: And?
Sara Garcia: I guess this hasn’t gone unnoticed and I’m in a match with Alexis on Sacrifice and if I do well, then I’ll be inserted into a Diamonds Title Number One Contender’s match the following week.
Ashley Mastrangelo: Wow, that’s big!
I was now feeling anxiety and nervousness.
Sara Garcia: Yeah...maybe too big?
Ashley Mastrangelo: You just finished telling me how much more comfortable you feel in that ring. Show it. Get out there against Alexis, show how much you’ve learned and let the momentum carry you.
It took a moment for me to digest everything, and then it was almost as if a lightbulb went off in my head, and then I nodded.
Sara Garcia: You know what? You’re right. I have worked extremely hard for this opportunity, and I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Ashley Mastrangelo: That’s the spirit.
Sara Garcia: I’m going to kick some ass, and then maybe people can close their mouths about me being the second fiddle in the Garcia Brand.
I get back in the ring.
Ashley Mastrangelo: What are you doing?
Sara Garcia: Let’s go...we’re going to perfect this.
She steps back in the ring and we lock up again as the scene fades.
”A Huge Step”
I have been training in the IWF Performance Center for a long time, more potently now. I’ve gotten in there and gotten down and dirty, and I feel over and over again that I’ve hit my limit. And then I’m pushed even further. I’ve learned new moves. I’ve learned psychology in that ring. I learned how to maneuver around, how to position myself better, how to put myself in the best position to succeed.
July 17, 2017
I grab hold of Ashley in the center of the ring, dragging her to the mat, rolling back to her legs, locking her up in the center of the ring in an Indian Deathlock, showing the new moves I’ve learned where she taps out. We get up in the center, each breathing heavily.
Ashley Mastrangelo: Excellent transition. I couldn’t do it better myself.
Sara Garcia: Thanks. Do you think I’m getting better at this?
Ashley Mastrangelo: How about I answer your question with a question. How do you think you did? How do you feel?
Sara Garcia: Definitely more comfortable in the ring. I feel like before I was a little clunky in things like a transition, or just timing in general, whereas now, I feel it’s just more fluid in the ring.
Ashley Mastrangelo: See? You answered my question for me.
Before our conversation can continue, I hear my phone ringing off to the side in my bag, the ringtone matching that of Riley Gordon, one of the heads of the Diamonds Division. I excuse myself for a moment and leave Ashley standing in the ring as I roll out under the bottom rope and quickly grab hold of my phone.
Sara Garcia: Hello? Yeah? Really? But...okay, no buts, I’ll be there. Thank you so much for the opportunity. See you next week. Bye!
I stuffed my phone back in the pocket of my bag. I was slightly overwhelmed as I stammered back toward the ring.
Ashley Mastrangelo: You look like you’ve seen a ghost Sara.
I slowly climbed back on the apron.
Sara Garcia: Yeah, that was Riley.
Ashley Mastrangelo: And?
Sara Garcia: I guess this hasn’t gone unnoticed and I’m in a match with Alexis on Sacrifice and if I do well, then I’ll be inserted into a Diamonds Title Number One Contender’s match the following week.
Ashley Mastrangelo: Wow, that’s big!
I was now feeling anxiety and nervousness.
Sara Garcia: Yeah...maybe too big?
Ashley Mastrangelo: You just finished telling me how much more comfortable you feel in that ring. Show it. Get out there against Alexis, show how much you’ve learned and let the momentum carry you.
It took a moment for me to digest everything, and then it was almost as if a lightbulb went off in my head, and then I nodded.
Sara Garcia: You know what? You’re right. I have worked extremely hard for this opportunity, and I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Ashley Mastrangelo: That’s the spirit.
Sara Garcia: I’m going to kick some ass, and then maybe people can close their mouths about me being the second fiddle in the Garcia Brand.
I get back in the ring.
Ashley Mastrangelo: What are you doing?
Sara Garcia: Let’s go...we’re going to perfect this.
She steps back in the ring and we lock up again as the scene fades.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain had stopped and I opened the doors to the balcony, taking a step out onto the cement pad, grabbing hold of the iron rail in front of me I peer out over the horizon as the sun tries it’s best to fight through the dreary clouds. The moisture in the air was apparent all around, but the people below carried on about their day.
It’s funny isn’t it Rowan?
I turn to the camera.
Obviously you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about. How could you? You, she who lives in desolation, isolating herself, only wanting to cause problems and pain for others. Yet you’re truly just another in the long list, the winding line of little girls who just wishes they could be accepted into the world.
Sure you portray this killer mentality, but as your allegiance with The Council seems to indicate, you just want someone to be there and tell you “good job”, because let’s face it creep, you couldn’t truly get the job done on your own.
I don’t mean hurting people or ending a career or two, no, that you can do. When there’s no rules to confine you, to stifle you, you can do whatever you want and get away with it...you’re good at that. When there’s rules? When there’s a strategy to be employed rather than just endless chaos and anarchy, quite frankly, Fiona Mcfly has a better track record than you, and I know you haven’t been here that long, but that’s definitely saying something.
You see Rowan, there’s more to this world than how you see it. There’s more than just chaos, there’s more than just pain, and there’s more than just suffering. I understand you weren’t hugged enough as a child, but surely you can understand that there’s a greater picture, a grandeur design no?
I point to myself.
I have goals in this business. I want to be the best wrestler imaginable. I want to hold titles and continue the wave of success my sister achieved for the last year or so. She paved the way for me, she showed my how to walk that yellow brick road, and when the Wicked Witch, in this situation, the three of you, come to knock me off that path, to disturb my jolly skip, she showed my how to drop the house on top of you.
I’ve taken her knowledge, and the training of some of the best in this business, and gathered it with my own observations, my own skills, and I’ve formed quite possibly the best package possible...in theory.
I point to the camera.
Rowan, you’re big and bad when you lerk in the shadows of anarchy, but when the lights shine brightest, you’re nothing but a blip on the radar...as your career thus far would show. You’re supposed to be the scary monster that instills fear in all of those who oppose you, sending them running to the farthest of lands.
I point to the side of my head, acknowledging my own smarts.
I know the truth Rowan. I know you’re not that big bad monster, but quite the contrary. You’re simply the bedtime story told to the children of the world to make sure they don’t misbehave. News flash little girl, while you’re “playing” monster...I’m doing things you can only hope to do...like becoming Number One Contender…
Like going to Lineage and taking on Pandora Freeman for the Diamonds Championship.
Like extending the Era of the Garcias and taking it to even greater heights…
Like becoming your NEW IWF Diamonds...CHAMPION!
I turn back to the streets, staring out over the crowd as the scene fades.
Well howdy there pardner.