Post by Mike Laszlo on Jan 29, 2018 5:35:37 GMT
Insecurities are a funny damn thing. We all have them. Yes...even me.
The scene opens up and I’m standing ringside as the stage crew continues setting up for the first IWF Pay Per View of 2018. I watch as they scurry about like rats when flood waters approach, and yet, there’s a system to it all that has to be appreciated by everyone involved both on the crew, and in the locker room, all the way out to the seats of the arena and the fans. I’m leaned up against the barricade, staring at the ring, the place where I will challenge for the Imperial Championship with two other men, and the champion vying to retain his spot in a Fatal Four Way Match with no disqualifications.
Insecurities are a funny thing because no matter how hard you fight them, no matter how hard you try to sweep them under the rug, they always show up at the worst possible time. This match...though the men in it show off their bravado, and they do their best to put on that stone cold face, or in Angel’s case...hide it behind a ton of facepaint, the insecurities are running all over.
I grab hold of one of the chairs also leaning up against the barricade and I set it up on the concrete floor, having a seat, staring at the ground for a moment as I gather my thoughts. I then look up at the camera and hold out my hand as if pointing to my first verbal assault victim.
For instance, let’s start with Angel. After all, he’s the first one who appeared in the ring a little less than a month ago and thought that just because he buried a man alive, he was the one who should be next in line for a championship opportunity. That man is so insecure that he has to call himself “God”.
I look around, almost shocked, though in the world of professional wrestling, nothing can really shock you anymore, am I right? I then turn back to the camera with that same quizzical look on my face.
I mean really? God?
Angel, you’re anything but. You can spew the words, and you can talk as if the words from your lips should be recognized as new testament, but the fact remains that behind the bravado, and behind the illusions, and the flickering lights, you’re merely a man who wears face paint to instill fear in the lesser minded individual.
I point to myself.
And I think you and I both know that I am not one of those individuals.
I point to the side to represent a time that’s gone by, and as many will tell you, happened a long, long time ago.
Angel, you and I have gone to absolute war, and though are battles were many, by the time the dust settled, I won the war. I made you submit in the center of the ring and won the Imperial Championship. I ended the so-called reign of terror. While others may discredit that, or may recognize it as a part of history long gone, I look upon it as a moment that should be recognized forever.
But why?
Because I won the Imperial Championship that night?
I shake my head from side to side dismissing the notion entirely.
No, I look at that moment as the moment I was finally recognized for the talent I possess. I recognize that moment as the moment I became a somebody rather than the countless list of names on a roster sheet. You say the name Mike Laszlo and it’s known the world over, and honestly, I have you to thank for that. You pushed me to limits I didn’t even know I had, and so to thank you appropriately, I’m going to return the favor at Metamorphosis. I’m going to push you, I’m going to push Bob, and I’m going to push Andrew, and by the time all is done, when you hear the name Mike Laszlo, it will be preceded with “Two Time Imperial Champion”.
I cross one leg over the other, folding my hands in my lap.
So hide behind the bravado Angel, the face paint, the illusions, and the words of testament. Keep yourself to the shadows where you belong. Like I said...insecurities. Keep this in mind though, while you’re lurking in the shadows, I’ll be exactly where I belong, basking in the glory of the spotlight like nobody else can.
As if on cue, a spotlight shines down upon me. I cup my hand over my eyes like a brim of a hat as I point up with the opposite hand’s index finger.
Look at that...on cue.
Speaking of spotlights, let’s talk about the guy who wishes he was still in the spotlight. Let’s talk about the man for who months on end was perfectly happy wallowing away, allowing the rest of the world to pass him by, clutching to his Invictus Championship. Let’s talk about a man who’s star has faded, yet sent out one last glimmer of hope when he interrupted Angel on that fateful night. Let’s talk about Bob Pooler and what exactly it is he’s going to do next.
I uncross my legs and stand from the chair, walking along the barricade until I reach the foot of the entrance walkway. I hoist myself up on the barrier, sitting on the corner of it.
Bob, we’ve done this little song and dance on multiple occasions. You were the one who plucked me from obscurity years ago, and you’re the one who effectively recruited me to NCW which then became this glorious company known as the IWF in its fifth year.
I point to the camera.
If not for you, none of this would have ever happened for me. I wouldn’t be the household name I am today, I’d be an internet darling with untapped, unrealized potential. So in the spirit of all of this appreciation, yes, I’ll thank you too.
I shake my finger as if trying to put it on something, trying to figure something out.
However, as much as I thank you, and as many times as we’ve done this song and dance, we’ve never done it for something so meaningful. Sure, pride is big, but when it comes to something like the Imperial Championship, it simply fails in comparison.
That’s it!
I spring to life as if I’ve just come up with a cure for cancer or something, yet sadly, that’s not the case. I did figure “it” out though.
That’s what leads to your insecurities Bob. That’s what led you out to the ring to interrupt Angel, and that will be your downfall both now and for the rest of your career because it’s going to steer you down a path in which you’ve never fully explored. Your pride Bob Pooler will be your undoing.
I point out to the side again, once more ready to explore the past.
For all you’ve done for this business Bob, from creating a company, to recruiting people like me, to performing in that ring yourself, you simply don’t know where to go from here. The question “What will you do next?” can’t even be answered by the one who poses said question. So let me do my best to offer my opinion.
One morning Bob, you finally woke up. You lost the Invictus Title and you went on dragging your feet for what seemed like ages, not having a direction, not having a purpose. Then you thought to yourself, “Why not?”. You looked in a mirror and you filled yourself up with what you thought was ambition, what you thought was courage. You nodded your head in approval and you stomped out to the ring with a purpose...to finally shatter the glass ceiling here in the Imperial Wrestling Federation. You’ve pressed up against it long enough while watching others throw a brick through it, and goddammit you’ve had enough and it was about time something changed.
I shrug my shoulders.
How am I doing so far?
I point into the camera.
How convinced did you make yourself in the mirror Bob? How much of a pep talk did you really give your reflection? Do you truly believe that you can walk into the Fatal Four Way at Metamorphosis and get the job done? Can you be as brutal as you need to be? Can you be as brutal as me? As Angel? Do your convictions run as deep as those of the current champion?
I take a deep breath and slowly look up at the camera, shaking my head.
I don’t think so. I don’t think you can be as brutal, as cunning, as convicted to your beliefs. I don’t think you have what it takes Bob. So to answer the age old question, to shed some light on your situation…
“What will you do next?”
You’ll stay exactly where you are, pressed up against the glass ceiling. You’ll continue to watch as others achieve their dream, as I achieve my dream again...and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop it from happening.
I slide off the barricade and walk off as the scene fades.
==================================================
Title: I’ll Be There
Location: Hillcrest Hospital, Cleveland, Ohio
Time: January 19, 2018 8:45 AM
When my wife needed me, I knew it. She called and actually said the words and in no time flat, I was dressed, in the car, and flying down the streets of Cleveland to get to her at the Hillcrest Hospital. She was visiting her mother who has cancer as you all should know, and there was just this tremble in her voice that made even the most stone cold of people feel uneasy. I pulled into the parking area and into the parking garage, zipping through the aisles until I found a spot. I jumped out of the car, the cold of winter hitting my bare arms and sending a shiver up my spine, but that didn’t matter. I had to get to her...and fast. I walked through the corridor, didn’t need a map or directions as we had been doing this for some time. I walked through the halls, and to the elevator, getting off on her mother’s floor. I walked around the nurses station and into her room and as I walked through the door, I was stopped with a sudden halt. I saw my wife, sitting in her chair, stiff as a statue in the park. I slowly stepped up to her, kneeling down in front of her.
Mike Laszlo: Lexi.
She didn’t respond. She has a habit of going into a near catatonic state when things get really bad, and telling by her voice on the phone, things were indeed, very bad. I took her hand, still no response. I started rubbing it back and forth.
Mike Laszlo: Lex, what did the doctor say?
Her eyes slowly slid toward me, now staring me right in the face. She then shook her head from side to side slowly.
Mike Laszlo: The doctor didn’t say anything? What’s going on?
I grabbed her by the shoulders and gentle shook her.
Mike Laszlo: Hey, snap out of it and tell me what’s going on.
Alexis Caffrey: The...the...the doctor didn’t say anything.
Mike Laszlo: Okay. What’s wrong then?
Alexis Caffrey: M-m-my mother said something.
I took her other hand and got down on my knees to get closer, now nearly face to face with her.
Mike Laszlo: Hun, tell me. I can’t help if I don’t know.
Alexis Caffrey: She said goodbye.
I stared for a moment as a tear trickled down her face. My heart was up in my throat and for a moment it was impossible to even get a word out. I know the feeling, and I know it all too well. I was fifteen when my mother passed away from cancer. I was there for her last words, and I felt every emotion in the book. I was sad, then after it happened, I was angry that she had left me alone in this world. Then, once things settled, I was happy, not for me, but for her. She wasn’t suffering anymore. She was released from the torment. In time, Alexis would feel that too, but now, there was only one emotion piercing the air, sadness.
I didn’t know what to say. I knew all the things that others tried to tell me, but I also remember not wanting to hear a single damn one of them. I remember lashing out at those people, and no matter what I said, I knew she might do the same thing.
Mike Laszlo: Maybe she was just feeling tired? I’m sure this is an exhausting battle to fight. Watch, she’ll come back and she’ll be fine.
I could see my words were having little effect on her. She slowly nodded. I knew the words were getting through, but I wasn’t sure if she was computing them properly.
Alexis Caffrey: She’ll be fine. She’s a fighter.
I nodded as I stood up.
Mike Laszlo: Yeah. That’s right. She’s a fighter, and she’s going to kick this thing’s ass.
Her head snapped up at me. The look in her eyes wasn’t the grown woman I’d come to known, but more that of a scared little girl who was about to lose everything important to her.
Alexis Caffrey: But...but...what if she doesn’t? What if she’s given up and that was the last conversation I ever had with her.
I didn’t want to answer that, but I did so in the best way I could imagine.
Mike Laszlo: Well, if for some reason it is her time...does she know you love her?
Alexis nodded.
Mike Laszlo: Do you know she loves you?
Alexis Caffrey: More than anything in the world.
Mike Laszlo: Then you can both be at peace. She raised a powerful, intelligent daughter and did everything she could to get you to where you are today. You, as that daughter, made her prouder than anyone else in the world ever could. You truly are and forever will be her pride and joy. One day, we’ll all see each other again, and we’ll be able to reminisce about every single thing that has and will happen in our lives. Hopefully, that’s not the case though and she keeps fighting.
I watched as her head slowly turned back to the floor. I walked behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, rubbing them back and forth, doing my best to comfort her as we waited for her mother to return.
==============================================
The scene comes back and I’m sitting up on the stage as the workers behind me continue to work on the lighting and the video boards. I point to the screen with a smirk on my face.
And then there’s you...the champion. You have a couple of insecurities that are perhaps the biggest of them all. First of all, that title around your waist. You wear it proud, and you recognize what all champions do, you’ve become the hunted. There’s a big red bullseye on your back and until someone takes that title from you, me at Metamorphosis, the rest of the roster looks at you like a fat man looks at the local buffet. The want you have, the desire to stay at the top is pretty much the same as I have to get there, as Angel, and as Bob. We thirst for it, you crave to keep it. You fight with honor, and that sir is the biggest insecurity you can possibly have. It’s like you’re the dog, and your morality is the harness that stops you from truly breaking free and being who you need to be.
I nod my head, acknowledging all that Andrew has done so far.
Yes, that’s worked well for you to this point. You’ve beaten guys like Spike Kane to stay where you are, but let’s be honest Andrew, though you wanted this, the match at Metamorphosis is indeed your toughest challenge to date. You don’t have to worry about one man standing across from you, you have to worry about three. Not just three average Joes either Andrew. You’re facing three former champions, one of which is a Hall of Famer in his own right. The threat is as ominous as the dark cloud rolling over the horizon.
I have to ask, if push came to shove, would you let your morality get in the way? Are you willing to do absolutely anything to retain that championship around your waist? Are you willing to Sacrifice the cheering of the crowd for your own well-being if pushed to that point? Are you willing to cross the line?
I point to my side.
I know Angel would kill to have that championship again. I know that Bob might crave that title and the notoriety that comes with it, and I’ve already questioned his commitment. I know damn sure that I’ll break your damn arm off and beat you with it if I need to, if that’s what it takes to become champion again.
I point to the camera.
But you? I know you’re willing to go to extreme measures. I know you’ve done things that would seem to have crossed that line, yet you always retreat back, and that’s the part I truly wonder about. Are you Andrew Jacobsen, willing to cross the point of no return in order to keep that Goddamn belt around your waist, or will the commitment you have to your nobility, your morality, cloud your judgement? Will it stop you from going to the deepest depths of your soul?
I think it will.
I think the commitment is stronger than the man who holds it. The commitment will stop you from doing what you need to do, and in the end, that pride, that commitment, that nobility that you possess will fail you. I know, because I was there, because it happened to me years ago.
I slide off the stage to the floor.
My insecurities weighed me down. I call myself the Best Period, and it’s a burden I carry with me everyday. It’s the insecurity I have. Every single day, I look over my shoulder and wonder “Is today the day?” “Is it the day that someone passes me by on this road of life?”
That insecurity makes me look in a mirror every single day and ask myself that question. I have to look my reflection dead in it’s eyes and shake my head. That day has not yet come, and if I have anything to say about it, and I do, that day is still a long…LONG way off.
That insecurity fuels me to harder in the gym. That insecurity makes me better each and every day. That insecurity is what gives me the confidence to step in that ring with the three of you at Metamorphosis, go toe to toe with you all, and walk out champion, because while the insecurity is there, the want, the desire to not let it occur is that much stronger.
Metamorphosis V...I...WILL BE CHAMPION…AGAIN!
The scene opens up and I’m standing ringside as the stage crew continues setting up for the first IWF Pay Per View of 2018. I watch as they scurry about like rats when flood waters approach, and yet, there’s a system to it all that has to be appreciated by everyone involved both on the crew, and in the locker room, all the way out to the seats of the arena and the fans. I’m leaned up against the barricade, staring at the ring, the place where I will challenge for the Imperial Championship with two other men, and the champion vying to retain his spot in a Fatal Four Way Match with no disqualifications.
Insecurities are a funny thing because no matter how hard you fight them, no matter how hard you try to sweep them under the rug, they always show up at the worst possible time. This match...though the men in it show off their bravado, and they do their best to put on that stone cold face, or in Angel’s case...hide it behind a ton of facepaint, the insecurities are running all over.
I grab hold of one of the chairs also leaning up against the barricade and I set it up on the concrete floor, having a seat, staring at the ground for a moment as I gather my thoughts. I then look up at the camera and hold out my hand as if pointing to my first verbal assault victim.
For instance, let’s start with Angel. After all, he’s the first one who appeared in the ring a little less than a month ago and thought that just because he buried a man alive, he was the one who should be next in line for a championship opportunity. That man is so insecure that he has to call himself “God”.
I look around, almost shocked, though in the world of professional wrestling, nothing can really shock you anymore, am I right? I then turn back to the camera with that same quizzical look on my face.
I mean really? God?
Angel, you’re anything but. You can spew the words, and you can talk as if the words from your lips should be recognized as new testament, but the fact remains that behind the bravado, and behind the illusions, and the flickering lights, you’re merely a man who wears face paint to instill fear in the lesser minded individual.
I point to myself.
And I think you and I both know that I am not one of those individuals.
I point to the side to represent a time that’s gone by, and as many will tell you, happened a long, long time ago.
Angel, you and I have gone to absolute war, and though are battles were many, by the time the dust settled, I won the war. I made you submit in the center of the ring and won the Imperial Championship. I ended the so-called reign of terror. While others may discredit that, or may recognize it as a part of history long gone, I look upon it as a moment that should be recognized forever.
But why?
Because I won the Imperial Championship that night?
I shake my head from side to side dismissing the notion entirely.
No, I look at that moment as the moment I was finally recognized for the talent I possess. I recognize that moment as the moment I became a somebody rather than the countless list of names on a roster sheet. You say the name Mike Laszlo and it’s known the world over, and honestly, I have you to thank for that. You pushed me to limits I didn’t even know I had, and so to thank you appropriately, I’m going to return the favor at Metamorphosis. I’m going to push you, I’m going to push Bob, and I’m going to push Andrew, and by the time all is done, when you hear the name Mike Laszlo, it will be preceded with “Two Time Imperial Champion”.
I cross one leg over the other, folding my hands in my lap.
So hide behind the bravado Angel, the face paint, the illusions, and the words of testament. Keep yourself to the shadows where you belong. Like I said...insecurities. Keep this in mind though, while you’re lurking in the shadows, I’ll be exactly where I belong, basking in the glory of the spotlight like nobody else can.
As if on cue, a spotlight shines down upon me. I cup my hand over my eyes like a brim of a hat as I point up with the opposite hand’s index finger.
Look at that...on cue.
Speaking of spotlights, let’s talk about the guy who wishes he was still in the spotlight. Let’s talk about the man for who months on end was perfectly happy wallowing away, allowing the rest of the world to pass him by, clutching to his Invictus Championship. Let’s talk about a man who’s star has faded, yet sent out one last glimmer of hope when he interrupted Angel on that fateful night. Let’s talk about Bob Pooler and what exactly it is he’s going to do next.
I uncross my legs and stand from the chair, walking along the barricade until I reach the foot of the entrance walkway. I hoist myself up on the barrier, sitting on the corner of it.
Bob, we’ve done this little song and dance on multiple occasions. You were the one who plucked me from obscurity years ago, and you’re the one who effectively recruited me to NCW which then became this glorious company known as the IWF in its fifth year.
I point to the camera.
If not for you, none of this would have ever happened for me. I wouldn’t be the household name I am today, I’d be an internet darling with untapped, unrealized potential. So in the spirit of all of this appreciation, yes, I’ll thank you too.
I shake my finger as if trying to put it on something, trying to figure something out.
However, as much as I thank you, and as many times as we’ve done this song and dance, we’ve never done it for something so meaningful. Sure, pride is big, but when it comes to something like the Imperial Championship, it simply fails in comparison.
That’s it!
I spring to life as if I’ve just come up with a cure for cancer or something, yet sadly, that’s not the case. I did figure “it” out though.
That’s what leads to your insecurities Bob. That’s what led you out to the ring to interrupt Angel, and that will be your downfall both now and for the rest of your career because it’s going to steer you down a path in which you’ve never fully explored. Your pride Bob Pooler will be your undoing.
I point out to the side again, once more ready to explore the past.
For all you’ve done for this business Bob, from creating a company, to recruiting people like me, to performing in that ring yourself, you simply don’t know where to go from here. The question “What will you do next?” can’t even be answered by the one who poses said question. So let me do my best to offer my opinion.
One morning Bob, you finally woke up. You lost the Invictus Title and you went on dragging your feet for what seemed like ages, not having a direction, not having a purpose. Then you thought to yourself, “Why not?”. You looked in a mirror and you filled yourself up with what you thought was ambition, what you thought was courage. You nodded your head in approval and you stomped out to the ring with a purpose...to finally shatter the glass ceiling here in the Imperial Wrestling Federation. You’ve pressed up against it long enough while watching others throw a brick through it, and goddammit you’ve had enough and it was about time something changed.
I shrug my shoulders.
How am I doing so far?
I point into the camera.
How convinced did you make yourself in the mirror Bob? How much of a pep talk did you really give your reflection? Do you truly believe that you can walk into the Fatal Four Way at Metamorphosis and get the job done? Can you be as brutal as you need to be? Can you be as brutal as me? As Angel? Do your convictions run as deep as those of the current champion?
I take a deep breath and slowly look up at the camera, shaking my head.
I don’t think so. I don’t think you can be as brutal, as cunning, as convicted to your beliefs. I don’t think you have what it takes Bob. So to answer the age old question, to shed some light on your situation…
“What will you do next?”
You’ll stay exactly where you are, pressed up against the glass ceiling. You’ll continue to watch as others achieve their dream, as I achieve my dream again...and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop it from happening.
I slide off the barricade and walk off as the scene fades.
==================================================
Title: I’ll Be There
Location: Hillcrest Hospital, Cleveland, Ohio
Time: January 19, 2018 8:45 AM
When my wife needed me, I knew it. She called and actually said the words and in no time flat, I was dressed, in the car, and flying down the streets of Cleveland to get to her at the Hillcrest Hospital. She was visiting her mother who has cancer as you all should know, and there was just this tremble in her voice that made even the most stone cold of people feel uneasy. I pulled into the parking area and into the parking garage, zipping through the aisles until I found a spot. I jumped out of the car, the cold of winter hitting my bare arms and sending a shiver up my spine, but that didn’t matter. I had to get to her...and fast. I walked through the corridor, didn’t need a map or directions as we had been doing this for some time. I walked through the halls, and to the elevator, getting off on her mother’s floor. I walked around the nurses station and into her room and as I walked through the door, I was stopped with a sudden halt. I saw my wife, sitting in her chair, stiff as a statue in the park. I slowly stepped up to her, kneeling down in front of her.
Mike Laszlo: Lexi.
She didn’t respond. She has a habit of going into a near catatonic state when things get really bad, and telling by her voice on the phone, things were indeed, very bad. I took her hand, still no response. I started rubbing it back and forth.
Mike Laszlo: Lex, what did the doctor say?
Her eyes slowly slid toward me, now staring me right in the face. She then shook her head from side to side slowly.
Mike Laszlo: The doctor didn’t say anything? What’s going on?
I grabbed her by the shoulders and gentle shook her.
Mike Laszlo: Hey, snap out of it and tell me what’s going on.
Alexis Caffrey: The...the...the doctor didn’t say anything.
Mike Laszlo: Okay. What’s wrong then?
Alexis Caffrey: M-m-my mother said something.
I took her other hand and got down on my knees to get closer, now nearly face to face with her.
Mike Laszlo: Hun, tell me. I can’t help if I don’t know.
Alexis Caffrey: She said goodbye.
I stared for a moment as a tear trickled down her face. My heart was up in my throat and for a moment it was impossible to even get a word out. I know the feeling, and I know it all too well. I was fifteen when my mother passed away from cancer. I was there for her last words, and I felt every emotion in the book. I was sad, then after it happened, I was angry that she had left me alone in this world. Then, once things settled, I was happy, not for me, but for her. She wasn’t suffering anymore. She was released from the torment. In time, Alexis would feel that too, but now, there was only one emotion piercing the air, sadness.
I didn’t know what to say. I knew all the things that others tried to tell me, but I also remember not wanting to hear a single damn one of them. I remember lashing out at those people, and no matter what I said, I knew she might do the same thing.
Mike Laszlo: Maybe she was just feeling tired? I’m sure this is an exhausting battle to fight. Watch, she’ll come back and she’ll be fine.
I could see my words were having little effect on her. She slowly nodded. I knew the words were getting through, but I wasn’t sure if she was computing them properly.
Alexis Caffrey: She’ll be fine. She’s a fighter.
I nodded as I stood up.
Mike Laszlo: Yeah. That’s right. She’s a fighter, and she’s going to kick this thing’s ass.
Her head snapped up at me. The look in her eyes wasn’t the grown woman I’d come to known, but more that of a scared little girl who was about to lose everything important to her.
Alexis Caffrey: But...but...what if she doesn’t? What if she’s given up and that was the last conversation I ever had with her.
I didn’t want to answer that, but I did so in the best way I could imagine.
Mike Laszlo: Well, if for some reason it is her time...does she know you love her?
Alexis nodded.
Mike Laszlo: Do you know she loves you?
Alexis Caffrey: More than anything in the world.
Mike Laszlo: Then you can both be at peace. She raised a powerful, intelligent daughter and did everything she could to get you to where you are today. You, as that daughter, made her prouder than anyone else in the world ever could. You truly are and forever will be her pride and joy. One day, we’ll all see each other again, and we’ll be able to reminisce about every single thing that has and will happen in our lives. Hopefully, that’s not the case though and she keeps fighting.
I watched as her head slowly turned back to the floor. I walked behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, rubbing them back and forth, doing my best to comfort her as we waited for her mother to return.
==============================================
The scene comes back and I’m sitting up on the stage as the workers behind me continue to work on the lighting and the video boards. I point to the screen with a smirk on my face.
And then there’s you...the champion. You have a couple of insecurities that are perhaps the biggest of them all. First of all, that title around your waist. You wear it proud, and you recognize what all champions do, you’ve become the hunted. There’s a big red bullseye on your back and until someone takes that title from you, me at Metamorphosis, the rest of the roster looks at you like a fat man looks at the local buffet. The want you have, the desire to stay at the top is pretty much the same as I have to get there, as Angel, and as Bob. We thirst for it, you crave to keep it. You fight with honor, and that sir is the biggest insecurity you can possibly have. It’s like you’re the dog, and your morality is the harness that stops you from truly breaking free and being who you need to be.
I nod my head, acknowledging all that Andrew has done so far.
Yes, that’s worked well for you to this point. You’ve beaten guys like Spike Kane to stay where you are, but let’s be honest Andrew, though you wanted this, the match at Metamorphosis is indeed your toughest challenge to date. You don’t have to worry about one man standing across from you, you have to worry about three. Not just three average Joes either Andrew. You’re facing three former champions, one of which is a Hall of Famer in his own right. The threat is as ominous as the dark cloud rolling over the horizon.
I have to ask, if push came to shove, would you let your morality get in the way? Are you willing to do absolutely anything to retain that championship around your waist? Are you willing to Sacrifice the cheering of the crowd for your own well-being if pushed to that point? Are you willing to cross the line?
I point to my side.
I know Angel would kill to have that championship again. I know that Bob might crave that title and the notoriety that comes with it, and I’ve already questioned his commitment. I know damn sure that I’ll break your damn arm off and beat you with it if I need to, if that’s what it takes to become champion again.
I point to the camera.
But you? I know you’re willing to go to extreme measures. I know you’ve done things that would seem to have crossed that line, yet you always retreat back, and that’s the part I truly wonder about. Are you Andrew Jacobsen, willing to cross the point of no return in order to keep that Goddamn belt around your waist, or will the commitment you have to your nobility, your morality, cloud your judgement? Will it stop you from going to the deepest depths of your soul?
I think it will.
I think the commitment is stronger than the man who holds it. The commitment will stop you from doing what you need to do, and in the end, that pride, that commitment, that nobility that you possess will fail you. I know, because I was there, because it happened to me years ago.
I slide off the stage to the floor.
My insecurities weighed me down. I call myself the Best Period, and it’s a burden I carry with me everyday. It’s the insecurity I have. Every single day, I look over my shoulder and wonder “Is today the day?” “Is it the day that someone passes me by on this road of life?”
That insecurity makes me look in a mirror every single day and ask myself that question. I have to look my reflection dead in it’s eyes and shake my head. That day has not yet come, and if I have anything to say about it, and I do, that day is still a long…LONG way off.
That insecurity fuels me to harder in the gym. That insecurity makes me better each and every day. That insecurity is what gives me the confidence to step in that ring with the three of you at Metamorphosis, go toe to toe with you all, and walk out champion, because while the insecurity is there, the want, the desire to not let it occur is that much stronger.
Metamorphosis V...I...WILL BE CHAMPION…AGAIN!
Well howdy there pardner.