Post by Keira Hunter on Sept 4, 2017 4:23:11 GMT
There’s many things they say about failure.
The first that comes to mind is that when you get knocked down, you simply have to get back up, dust yourself off, and go.
Another is about how failure is actually a success...if you learn from it, and learn from it I have.
BACK THEN…
It had been a few months since my impromptu promo. I had progressed through my classes just as I had done the tier below. I had taken the bumps, iced the bruises, and mainly stayed away from any major injury that would set me back in my training...until this faithful day.
There were a few of us who wanted to get in actual match training rather than the simple sparring that had continued on until this point. After checking with Ramon, Eliza agreed that a select group of four could do an after class session. So we were broken down into two groups of two and started going at one another, Eliza watching one set, Ramon watching the other. The other girl and I tied up and when I went to duck under, the plans got mixed up and the girl opposite me thought she was supposed to counter. She lifted her knee and connected flush with the side of my head. I felt instant pain, and then a dizzy sensation before falling flat back on the mat. Ramon rushed over and his voice kind of echoed in my ears.
Keira! Keira! Are you alright?
My vision was a bit blurry but was coming to as I slowly sat up, my hand immediately headed up to the side of my head to soothe the pain.
I can hear you...you’re a little fuzzy though.
How many fingers do I have up?
I looked over and saw two, but again...a little fuzzy.
Two, but it’s really blurry.
Alright, this is done with. We need to have you checked out by the medical staff. Eliza, send everyone to the showers and join me in the trainers room.
She did as she was told as I slowly slid out of the ring, gingerly being assisted by Ramon. As my feet hit the mat, I kind of felt like I was being supported by spaghetti and immediately fell into his arms.
Easy kiddo, I got ya.
He slowly lead me to the table and helped me slide up on top of it, laying me down on the reclined back seat. Medical staff was quick to rush up, checking things out, shining lights in my eyes, and doing whatever else they had to do to see if I was okay. I tried sitting up from the table, only to be held back by Ramon.
Relax, they got this.
I’m fine. Nothing a little rest can’t fix. I want to get back in there.
Oh no you don’t. That was a hard shot to the side of the head.
Trust me, I felt it. Also, what is that ringing sound?
The staff all looked at one another to see if anyone else had heard the sound, but it was clearly me, and me alone. They checked a little more, and asked some questions and then the words that came out of the trainer’s mouth were the ones that nobody wants to hear.
It appears she has a concussion, though a mild one. There’s not slurring of the words, and there’s no real sensitivity to light. So for now, we’ll let her rest, restraining her from any activity.
Ramon nodded. He had been through this before.
Alright, we’ll call her parents and have them pick her up.
The doctor looked at me.
Keira, you’re going to have to take it easy for the next couple of weeks. If you show any other signs of a more severe concussion, go to the emergency room.
What should I look for?
Sensory issues regarding light and sound sensitivity. Memory loss is another side effect, and also a lack of sleep, or a disturbance in prolonged sleep are heavier symptoms. Otherwise, we’ll just check on you throughout the week and go from there.
I nodded.
How long do you think I’ll be out?
We’ll check from day to day. You could be back by next week’s classes, or it may go longer. We’ll stay on top of things, and Ramon will let you know when the best time to return is.
I remember being depressed. I remember thinking to myself and preparing for the worst that this could go on for a long time and severely sidetrack my training. I sat there as the staff discussed what was next. Then Ramon called my parents...another joy in my life was explaining all of this to them. All I could do is what the medical trainers told me to do...and I’d be back in no time.
NOW…
I can’t stand failure. It leaves this horrible taste in your mouth, and it’s a setback on your overall development as a human being, and in this case, my development into the best female wrestler not only on this roster, but in this business as a whole.
As the scene fades in, I’m in the locker room of my local gym, training for my match against Shea O’Hara at the upcoming Sacrifice. Clearly, I’m still not over the whole losing in the Finals thing as I smack my gloved hand on one of the lockers. I then turn to the camera and hold my fingers up showing the narrow margin that represented winning from losing the whole damn thing.
I was THIS close! I was a single maneuver away from winning the Heiress to the Throne, proving to the world that different was a cool thing to be, and that walking to the beat of your own drum can lead you to bigger and better things in life.
I was THIS CLOSE! A single mistake unfortunately made that allowed Helena her opportunity to beat me, costing me my chance at becoming the true breakout star I believe that I am. In one instance, one single three count, I heard the referee’s hand slap the mat, signifying the end of the match, and my chance at history.
I throw my hands in the air. I’m clearly disgusted at my overall situation, until I stop in my tracks and actually give a thought to the future more than the past.
But…
This coming Sacrifice, I have a way around that. I have a way to pick myself up off the ground, dust myself off, and get right back on the horse. I have a chance to show the world that I can learn from my mistakes, even at the ripe age of eighteen. I know that’s not a strong suit of my generation, but I promise you all that learn from my mistakes I have, and going into a match with the Shieldmaiden, a champion, in a one on one situation, with a chance to really prove my worth, I will indeed show those mistakes are no more.
I point to myself, clearly not amused by everyone’s sentiment on how long I lasted in the tournament.
Don’t get me wrong, I hear the words that people speak, and a lot of them are telling me that I should accept the moral victory of making it to the finals, and move on with that slight merit. I look at those people, and I cock an eyebrow up and I wonder what kind of mentality that is. That’s something Crystal Millar, or Fiona McFly would do, and THAT’S why they’re stuck in the purgatory where they are. THAT’S why they continue to watch as people like me pass them by. That’s not who I want to be, not now, not ever. They may be content with that, or just making it, and that’s all fine and well, it’s just not who I am. I’m the kind of girl who goes out and wants to make a statement…
I can’t help but smile at the opportunity laid out before me due to our booking.
And make a statement I shall.
Shea, the Shieldmaiden of the IWF. I saw what Helena did to you. I saw how she brutally attacked you and all I could do is shake my head at her crappy display of sportswomanship. I saw that and used it as she tried to get the dupe on me. I saw how she watched you hurt your knee, and she exploited it, twisting it and torturing it until you just couldn’t take the pain anymore.
I saw what happened and I can’t help but wonder if I would be facing Shea O’Hara in the finals if not for Helena’s cowardly ways.
I wave my hand toward the camera.
Unfortunately, that’s not here or there, it’s in the past, and it’s time to move on. It’s time to take on the Shieldmaiden and in beating her, and I truly believe I can, and that’s no knock on you, I will make a statement. I will show the world that I am indeed here to stay. I will show that I can hang with the women in this company, and be the best of the bunch.
I have a seat on a set of stairs leading up to the front entrance of Madison Square Garden, the lights of the city gleaming down upon me as onlookers walk by.
Shea, I respect everything about you. You were taken out for a while, put on the shelf by a mad woman who set out to break you. You came back and not only did you show the world you were still capable, you took on the woman who tried to take you out, and you showed her why she was coward enough to try so in the first place. You showed her that the worry she had when it came to Shea O’Hara was justified and you took that Shieldmaiden from one of the baddest to lace up a pair of boots in Eternity.
You’ve brought prestige to that title, the same way others before you have, defending it twice a month, taking on all comers, and remaining on top.
At the Heiress to the Throne, at Legacy, you hurt your knee in the match and you kept fighting despite all the odds against you and you went down swinging...and I respect that.
I shake my head.
I wish things were a little different Shea. I wish you weren’t hurt. I want to take on the best, and beat the best while they’re one hundred percent. I want no doubt that my ability was better than there’s at their best. I’m not Helena. I don’t want the easy route because in the end, the easy route and the end goal just don’t have that same taste as a championship EARNED. It doesn’t have that same luster.
I stand and hold out my arms.
The lights just don’t mean as much when they shine down if you catch my drift.
So Shea, come Sacrifice, I want this to be a mere preview of what’s to come. I want to go out there and tear the house down with one of the baddest lasses to ever step foot in an IWF ring. I want to go one on one with the Shieldmaiden, no titles on the line, no ego stroking, just two women with a lot to prove to the world, duking it out for supremacy.
Maybe then...after I beat you...I’ll take a shot of my own at that Shieldmaiden and we can really show the world what this division, what this company, and most importantly, what two women with true skill as well as beauty can do in that ring.
I’ll see you at Sacrifice Shea, and all I can say is...I can’t wait.
The first that comes to mind is that when you get knocked down, you simply have to get back up, dust yourself off, and go.
Another is about how failure is actually a success...if you learn from it, and learn from it I have.
BACK THEN…
It had been a few months since my impromptu promo. I had progressed through my classes just as I had done the tier below. I had taken the bumps, iced the bruises, and mainly stayed away from any major injury that would set me back in my training...until this faithful day.
There were a few of us who wanted to get in actual match training rather than the simple sparring that had continued on until this point. After checking with Ramon, Eliza agreed that a select group of four could do an after class session. So we were broken down into two groups of two and started going at one another, Eliza watching one set, Ramon watching the other. The other girl and I tied up and when I went to duck under, the plans got mixed up and the girl opposite me thought she was supposed to counter. She lifted her knee and connected flush with the side of my head. I felt instant pain, and then a dizzy sensation before falling flat back on the mat. Ramon rushed over and his voice kind of echoed in my ears.
Keira! Keira! Are you alright?
My vision was a bit blurry but was coming to as I slowly sat up, my hand immediately headed up to the side of my head to soothe the pain.
I can hear you...you’re a little fuzzy though.
How many fingers do I have up?
I looked over and saw two, but again...a little fuzzy.
Two, but it’s really blurry.
Alright, this is done with. We need to have you checked out by the medical staff. Eliza, send everyone to the showers and join me in the trainers room.
She did as she was told as I slowly slid out of the ring, gingerly being assisted by Ramon. As my feet hit the mat, I kind of felt like I was being supported by spaghetti and immediately fell into his arms.
Easy kiddo, I got ya.
He slowly lead me to the table and helped me slide up on top of it, laying me down on the reclined back seat. Medical staff was quick to rush up, checking things out, shining lights in my eyes, and doing whatever else they had to do to see if I was okay. I tried sitting up from the table, only to be held back by Ramon.
Relax, they got this.
I’m fine. Nothing a little rest can’t fix. I want to get back in there.
Oh no you don’t. That was a hard shot to the side of the head.
Trust me, I felt it. Also, what is that ringing sound?
The staff all looked at one another to see if anyone else had heard the sound, but it was clearly me, and me alone. They checked a little more, and asked some questions and then the words that came out of the trainer’s mouth were the ones that nobody wants to hear.
It appears she has a concussion, though a mild one. There’s not slurring of the words, and there’s no real sensitivity to light. So for now, we’ll let her rest, restraining her from any activity.
Ramon nodded. He had been through this before.
Alright, we’ll call her parents and have them pick her up.
The doctor looked at me.
Keira, you’re going to have to take it easy for the next couple of weeks. If you show any other signs of a more severe concussion, go to the emergency room.
What should I look for?
Sensory issues regarding light and sound sensitivity. Memory loss is another side effect, and also a lack of sleep, or a disturbance in prolonged sleep are heavier symptoms. Otherwise, we’ll just check on you throughout the week and go from there.
I nodded.
How long do you think I’ll be out?
We’ll check from day to day. You could be back by next week’s classes, or it may go longer. We’ll stay on top of things, and Ramon will let you know when the best time to return is.
I remember being depressed. I remember thinking to myself and preparing for the worst that this could go on for a long time and severely sidetrack my training. I sat there as the staff discussed what was next. Then Ramon called my parents...another joy in my life was explaining all of this to them. All I could do is what the medical trainers told me to do...and I’d be back in no time.
NOW…
I can’t stand failure. It leaves this horrible taste in your mouth, and it’s a setback on your overall development as a human being, and in this case, my development into the best female wrestler not only on this roster, but in this business as a whole.
As the scene fades in, I’m in the locker room of my local gym, training for my match against Shea O’Hara at the upcoming Sacrifice. Clearly, I’m still not over the whole losing in the Finals thing as I smack my gloved hand on one of the lockers. I then turn to the camera and hold my fingers up showing the narrow margin that represented winning from losing the whole damn thing.
I was THIS close! I was a single maneuver away from winning the Heiress to the Throne, proving to the world that different was a cool thing to be, and that walking to the beat of your own drum can lead you to bigger and better things in life.
I was THIS CLOSE! A single mistake unfortunately made that allowed Helena her opportunity to beat me, costing me my chance at becoming the true breakout star I believe that I am. In one instance, one single three count, I heard the referee’s hand slap the mat, signifying the end of the match, and my chance at history.
I throw my hands in the air. I’m clearly disgusted at my overall situation, until I stop in my tracks and actually give a thought to the future more than the past.
But…
This coming Sacrifice, I have a way around that. I have a way to pick myself up off the ground, dust myself off, and get right back on the horse. I have a chance to show the world that I can learn from my mistakes, even at the ripe age of eighteen. I know that’s not a strong suit of my generation, but I promise you all that learn from my mistakes I have, and going into a match with the Shieldmaiden, a champion, in a one on one situation, with a chance to really prove my worth, I will indeed show those mistakes are no more.
I point to myself, clearly not amused by everyone’s sentiment on how long I lasted in the tournament.
Don’t get me wrong, I hear the words that people speak, and a lot of them are telling me that I should accept the moral victory of making it to the finals, and move on with that slight merit. I look at those people, and I cock an eyebrow up and I wonder what kind of mentality that is. That’s something Crystal Millar, or Fiona McFly would do, and THAT’S why they’re stuck in the purgatory where they are. THAT’S why they continue to watch as people like me pass them by. That’s not who I want to be, not now, not ever. They may be content with that, or just making it, and that’s all fine and well, it’s just not who I am. I’m the kind of girl who goes out and wants to make a statement…
I can’t help but smile at the opportunity laid out before me due to our booking.
And make a statement I shall.
Shea, the Shieldmaiden of the IWF. I saw what Helena did to you. I saw how she brutally attacked you and all I could do is shake my head at her crappy display of sportswomanship. I saw that and used it as she tried to get the dupe on me. I saw how she watched you hurt your knee, and she exploited it, twisting it and torturing it until you just couldn’t take the pain anymore.
I saw what happened and I can’t help but wonder if I would be facing Shea O’Hara in the finals if not for Helena’s cowardly ways.
I wave my hand toward the camera.
Unfortunately, that’s not here or there, it’s in the past, and it’s time to move on. It’s time to take on the Shieldmaiden and in beating her, and I truly believe I can, and that’s no knock on you, I will make a statement. I will show the world that I am indeed here to stay. I will show that I can hang with the women in this company, and be the best of the bunch.
I have a seat on a set of stairs leading up to the front entrance of Madison Square Garden, the lights of the city gleaming down upon me as onlookers walk by.
Shea, I respect everything about you. You were taken out for a while, put on the shelf by a mad woman who set out to break you. You came back and not only did you show the world you were still capable, you took on the woman who tried to take you out, and you showed her why she was coward enough to try so in the first place. You showed her that the worry she had when it came to Shea O’Hara was justified and you took that Shieldmaiden from one of the baddest to lace up a pair of boots in Eternity.
You’ve brought prestige to that title, the same way others before you have, defending it twice a month, taking on all comers, and remaining on top.
At the Heiress to the Throne, at Legacy, you hurt your knee in the match and you kept fighting despite all the odds against you and you went down swinging...and I respect that.
I shake my head.
I wish things were a little different Shea. I wish you weren’t hurt. I want to take on the best, and beat the best while they’re one hundred percent. I want no doubt that my ability was better than there’s at their best. I’m not Helena. I don’t want the easy route because in the end, the easy route and the end goal just don’t have that same taste as a championship EARNED. It doesn’t have that same luster.
I stand and hold out my arms.
The lights just don’t mean as much when they shine down if you catch my drift.
So Shea, come Sacrifice, I want this to be a mere preview of what’s to come. I want to go out there and tear the house down with one of the baddest lasses to ever step foot in an IWF ring. I want to go one on one with the Shieldmaiden, no titles on the line, no ego stroking, just two women with a lot to prove to the world, duking it out for supremacy.
Maybe then...after I beat you...I’ll take a shot of my own at that Shieldmaiden and we can really show the world what this division, what this company, and most importantly, what two women with true skill as well as beauty can do in that ring.
I’ll see you at Sacrifice Shea, and all I can say is...I can’t wait.
Well howdy there pardner.