Post by Deleted on Feb 23, 2018 20:26:34 GMT
“Excellence is an art won by training and habituation. We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”
As Nighthawk staggers into the bathroom of his row house in the Bridgeport section of Chicago, bandages over his left eyebrow and on his forehead after the brutal assault he took at the hand of Ulf Hednir, one has to wonder if the outstanding technician we see standing on wobbly legs in front of his bathroom mirror has it within him to compete in an I Quit match with a man who outweighs him by almost 60 pounds and has shown a taste for barbarism and violence that his opponent has simply never exhibited.
But while the parameters of the match might not necessarily fit with what we expect from him there can be few who could doubt that the Chicago native is going to somehow figure out a way to handle the task in front of him, and is looking eagerly forward to humbling someone who he presumes to be a bully of the 1st order.
Continuing to stagger towards his bathroom mirror, his legs threatening to give out with every step, the “Wrestling Machine” slowly pulls the blood-stained gauze pad off of his forehead as he opens the bathroom cabinet and finds a small Ziploc bag filled with bandages and all the other things he needs to dress his wounds.
Turning on the shower to cool the “Wrestling Machine” steps inside and allows the dried blood to leave his body, slowly going down his drain as we see him once again pull together the tendrils of the cold and reserved armor he keeps around himself at all times.
Nighthawk: “Never again. I don’t care what I have to do, what I have to suffer through. Never again.”
Repeating this mantra to himself as the last of the dried blood leaves his body Nighthawk walks out of the shower and towels off, drying his hair as he picks up the bandages and other things to dress his wounds as his wife Sin walks in the room and immediately begins to help him with the task he was too proud to ask help for.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Sin: “How much more of this do you think you’re going to have to take? You can’t keep letting your morals and principles get you into fights like this.”
Nighthawk: “One more, honey. That’s all I’m going to need. When I looked into Ulf’s eyes, I didn’t see what I was expecting to see there. I saw it in Spike Kane’s eyes, and I recoiled from it. But not him. All he did to me, him and his heathen army, he did it when he knew I wasn’t expecting any of it. He confronted me in front of kids, honey. I can beat him. I can stop him. I know it.”
Sin: “But what is it going to take out of you, Tristan? The last time I saw you like this, you were preparing for the Last Man Standing match. And what happened to you that night, Tristan, was brutal. And I don’t think you’ve been right since. I know you feel like you have to do this, Tristan, because your honor has been called into question. All I’m asking you is to realize, one day, that you’ll step into that ring and you’ll get old overnight. It happens to every great champion, and make no mistake, everyone knows that you have what it takes to be a great champion. I just hope that you can show what you’re truly capable of, and not have your skills dissipated by a brutal match.”
Nighthawk: “It won’t be. I’m going to walk through this. No matter the cost, no matter what it takes, this is going to be the last time anyone tries to do what Ulf did. When I’m done, no one is going to want to follow in his footsteps.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
As Nighthawk walks alone into the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Tijuana to get in some last-minute prayers before his big match, we see the looks of shock and awe at seeing Nighthawk walk to the front of the church and cross himself before heading to the very last pew in the back for some quiet contemplation.
Nighthawk: “Father Almighty I come into your Holy presence to adore you and glorify your name
My Father, give me a sense of nearness to thee when I may be faltering from weariness in well doing. May I hold to my determinations and be focused to my plans
Help me to discern good from bad, right from wrong
May I know and see what is useful
May I be focused to the right direction and strategy
Let me not give unnecessary energy to what is worthless
Guide me Lord to know what is worthwhile, that I may acquire strength through the power of truth.
Give me strength and determination to stand firm in my endeavors
Give me the courage Lord to move on
Light and clear my path and walk along with me on my journey of life
Use me to do your will, make me a living testimony
Fulfill all my hearts’ desires according to your glorious riches in heaven
As I am going to rest tonight Lord take full control of my life.
Wake me with strength and wisdom to continue with the new day. Amen.”
Walking out of the church, Nighthawk still seems slightly conflicted. Exhaling as he leaves the church, the “Man of 1000 Holds” blinks his eyes as he knows what he has to do. Wiping tears out of his ice-blue eyes Nighthawk hails a cab and gives the driver one simple instruction, “Head to Jorge Rivera’s grave.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
As Nighthawk walks to his old mentor’s grave, a bottle of Dos Lunas Tequila in a cloth bag around his neck, we see the deep desire for his mentor to be proud of him that has never faded from him even after his instructor’s passing. Ambling in the general direction of the grave Nighthawk sits down yoga-style and begins to brush off the cement headstone with a small cloth.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Nighthawk: “There are things I’m proud of in my time learning from you. All the tactical advice and the holds you mastered that will die with me are high up on the list. But perhaps higher than it ought to be is knowing all the work I had to do to impress you. I remember the first time we met. I was cocky and skinny. You took one look at me and demanded I step into the ring and show you everything I knew. That was the most humbling night of my entire career, even after all the brutal defeats.
I wasn’t ready for you. It was like trying to hold down quicksilver itself, and you were 50 years old by that point with a bum knee. And to know that I stood for the standards, and the aesthetic, you taught me to believe in as though it was my own code has always been a source of pride for me. I didn’t want to let you down. I still don’t.
That’s why I have to do this, Jorge. I have to make Ulf Hednir stop. Because if I can’t do that, if I can’t beat him with technique and skill, then I don’t know how strong those standards are going to be. And I need them to be strong. But more than that, this sport needs them to be strong.
That’s what I’m fighting for. As much as I’m fighting him to show Ulf Hednir you can’t bully people without it coming back, I also need the fans to know that the standards I live up to can lead to victory.
Thank you for listening. I promise it won’t take me this long to see you again.”
Walking off, wiping tears from his eyes, Nighthawk exhales and smiles as the stress he has been dealing with slowly fades away.
>>>>>>>>>>
As Nighthawk and Sin sit on the bed in their rented hotel room in a Tijuana suburb, each looking more in love with each other than we have the last time we saw them, the “Wrestling Machine” closes his eyes. Clad in a black Erik Morales t-shirt, black leather pants with a blue-and-orange rising-sun pattern up and down each leg, and black work boots, Nighthawk smiles as his wife Sin cuddles with him. Clad herself in an emerald-green sweater, dark-orange hip-hugging jeans, and black Chuck Taylors, the “Dark Princess” nestles into her husband.
Nighthawk: “You can lie to yourself in this line of work. It’s honestly very easy if you want to try. You can pick your opponents, manufacture a sense of invincibility and menace, and all the while no one ever knows that you’re building everything on sand. But sooner or later, you will step into the ring with someone who can see the lie in front of them.”
Sin: “And if you get good enough, or you have enough potential, there will always be people willing to lie on your behalf.”
Nighthawk: “That’s what I am to you, Ulf. I am someone who can see the lie. To everyone else, I’m outgunned and walking into a suicide mission. To everyone else, this is going to be a brutal beating I’m not about to recover from anytime soon. But, Ulf, I can see the lie. And this week, when you and I do battle, you’re going to find out that there’s nothing you can do, no act of violence you can commit, that will prevent me from showing the world two things. The first is that your entire aura of invincibility is a lie. The 2nd thing is that whenever you throw your weight around, there will always be someone around to tell you to stop, and make you if you don’t listen.”
Sin: “Anything worth doing, Ulf, is doing right. And believe us when we tell you that stopping you, right here and right now, is worth doing.”
Nighthawk: “But as I think about it further, both things I have to show the world and show you, are related. Think about how this all began, Ulf. You bullied people, tried to hurt them, and tried to end their careers. I told you enough and did you come to me like a man and ask for a fight? No. You waited until I was signing autographs for kids before you and your heathen army told me to stay out of your way. And then when I didn’t, I told the world in an interview segment that I was challenging you to this match. Did you attack me then? No. You waited until my back was turned, and then you left me a bloody mess in the middle of the ring. Does that sound like the actions of a warrior to you, Ulf? No. What you did sounds like the actions of a coward. And this week, I prove it.”
Sin: “Be prepared for pain, Ulf. Because a lot of it is coming your way.”
Nighthawk: “You see, Ulf, you’re a Viking. The blood of the Norsemen runs through your veins, and you take great pride in this. As you should. The trouble with that lineage you wrap around you like a security blanket, however, is this. You have allowed the worst stereotypes of being a Viking to take you over. Astrid Hall considers herself a Viking too, but she loves the battle. She loves a fair fight, Ulf, and you do not. I doubt if you ever have. You have no code, no discipline, and no respect for anyone but yourself.”
Sin: “And any man without a code can easily find himself in cowardice.”
Nighthawk: “Myself, I am Irish. My people and yours have shared a continent, sometimes uneasily. But while you hold tight to your lineage, and define yourself exclusively by it, I have added new cultures, and learned new lessons, to mine. I was schooled in Japan, perfected in Mexico, and sharpened to perfection by my travels throughout continental Europe and the British Isles. And because my schooling was in Japan, I became an adherent to bushido. And it is that code, that standard, which I have lived by.”
Sin: “People are calling this the Viking vs the Samurai. And I happen to think they’re right.”
Nighthawk: “I returned to IWF in samurai armor, Ulf, because that is who I am. In my heart of hearts, I am a samurai. But do you know what this samurai holds over you? Not a three-body blade, Ulf, but something just as deadly. I hold the Hangman’s Clutch in my hands, and when I decide to let it loose, you will surrender. You will scream out in pain, and as God is my witness, you will quit. And when you do, when you scream it loud enough that the old gods and the new both hear it, I want you to understand who bested you. The man who trained to find your every opening. The man who knew he could take the best you had to offer. And, most importantly, the man who saw the lie before you knew you were even telling one.”
Nighthawk and Sin: “Goodnight Ulf. May sleep give you the courage to go on.”
As Nighthawk staggers into the bathroom of his row house in the Bridgeport section of Chicago, bandages over his left eyebrow and on his forehead after the brutal assault he took at the hand of Ulf Hednir, one has to wonder if the outstanding technician we see standing on wobbly legs in front of his bathroom mirror has it within him to compete in an I Quit match with a man who outweighs him by almost 60 pounds and has shown a taste for barbarism and violence that his opponent has simply never exhibited.
But while the parameters of the match might not necessarily fit with what we expect from him there can be few who could doubt that the Chicago native is going to somehow figure out a way to handle the task in front of him, and is looking eagerly forward to humbling someone who he presumes to be a bully of the 1st order.
Continuing to stagger towards his bathroom mirror, his legs threatening to give out with every step, the “Wrestling Machine” slowly pulls the blood-stained gauze pad off of his forehead as he opens the bathroom cabinet and finds a small Ziploc bag filled with bandages and all the other things he needs to dress his wounds.
Turning on the shower to cool the “Wrestling Machine” steps inside and allows the dried blood to leave his body, slowly going down his drain as we see him once again pull together the tendrils of the cold and reserved armor he keeps around himself at all times.
Nighthawk: “Never again. I don’t care what I have to do, what I have to suffer through. Never again.”
Repeating this mantra to himself as the last of the dried blood leaves his body Nighthawk walks out of the shower and towels off, drying his hair as he picks up the bandages and other things to dress his wounds as his wife Sin walks in the room and immediately begins to help him with the task he was too proud to ask help for.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Sin: “How much more of this do you think you’re going to have to take? You can’t keep letting your morals and principles get you into fights like this.”
Nighthawk: “One more, honey. That’s all I’m going to need. When I looked into Ulf’s eyes, I didn’t see what I was expecting to see there. I saw it in Spike Kane’s eyes, and I recoiled from it. But not him. All he did to me, him and his heathen army, he did it when he knew I wasn’t expecting any of it. He confronted me in front of kids, honey. I can beat him. I can stop him. I know it.”
Sin: “But what is it going to take out of you, Tristan? The last time I saw you like this, you were preparing for the Last Man Standing match. And what happened to you that night, Tristan, was brutal. And I don’t think you’ve been right since. I know you feel like you have to do this, Tristan, because your honor has been called into question. All I’m asking you is to realize, one day, that you’ll step into that ring and you’ll get old overnight. It happens to every great champion, and make no mistake, everyone knows that you have what it takes to be a great champion. I just hope that you can show what you’re truly capable of, and not have your skills dissipated by a brutal match.”
Nighthawk: “It won’t be. I’m going to walk through this. No matter the cost, no matter what it takes, this is going to be the last time anyone tries to do what Ulf did. When I’m done, no one is going to want to follow in his footsteps.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
As Nighthawk walks alone into the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Tijuana to get in some last-minute prayers before his big match, we see the looks of shock and awe at seeing Nighthawk walk to the front of the church and cross himself before heading to the very last pew in the back for some quiet contemplation.
Nighthawk: “Father Almighty I come into your Holy presence to adore you and glorify your name
My Father, give me a sense of nearness to thee when I may be faltering from weariness in well doing. May I hold to my determinations and be focused to my plans
Help me to discern good from bad, right from wrong
May I know and see what is useful
May I be focused to the right direction and strategy
Let me not give unnecessary energy to what is worthless
Guide me Lord to know what is worthwhile, that I may acquire strength through the power of truth.
Give me strength and determination to stand firm in my endeavors
Give me the courage Lord to move on
Light and clear my path and walk along with me on my journey of life
Use me to do your will, make me a living testimony
Fulfill all my hearts’ desires according to your glorious riches in heaven
As I am going to rest tonight Lord take full control of my life.
Wake me with strength and wisdom to continue with the new day. Amen.”
Walking out of the church, Nighthawk still seems slightly conflicted. Exhaling as he leaves the church, the “Man of 1000 Holds” blinks his eyes as he knows what he has to do. Wiping tears out of his ice-blue eyes Nighthawk hails a cab and gives the driver one simple instruction, “Head to Jorge Rivera’s grave.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
As Nighthawk walks to his old mentor’s grave, a bottle of Dos Lunas Tequila in a cloth bag around his neck, we see the deep desire for his mentor to be proud of him that has never faded from him even after his instructor’s passing. Ambling in the general direction of the grave Nighthawk sits down yoga-style and begins to brush off the cement headstone with a small cloth.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Nighthawk: “There are things I’m proud of in my time learning from you. All the tactical advice and the holds you mastered that will die with me are high up on the list. But perhaps higher than it ought to be is knowing all the work I had to do to impress you. I remember the first time we met. I was cocky and skinny. You took one look at me and demanded I step into the ring and show you everything I knew. That was the most humbling night of my entire career, even after all the brutal defeats.
I wasn’t ready for you. It was like trying to hold down quicksilver itself, and you were 50 years old by that point with a bum knee. And to know that I stood for the standards, and the aesthetic, you taught me to believe in as though it was my own code has always been a source of pride for me. I didn’t want to let you down. I still don’t.
That’s why I have to do this, Jorge. I have to make Ulf Hednir stop. Because if I can’t do that, if I can’t beat him with technique and skill, then I don’t know how strong those standards are going to be. And I need them to be strong. But more than that, this sport needs them to be strong.
That’s what I’m fighting for. As much as I’m fighting him to show Ulf Hednir you can’t bully people without it coming back, I also need the fans to know that the standards I live up to can lead to victory.
Thank you for listening. I promise it won’t take me this long to see you again.”
Walking off, wiping tears from his eyes, Nighthawk exhales and smiles as the stress he has been dealing with slowly fades away.
>>>>>>>>>>
As Nighthawk and Sin sit on the bed in their rented hotel room in a Tijuana suburb, each looking more in love with each other than we have the last time we saw them, the “Wrestling Machine” closes his eyes. Clad in a black Erik Morales t-shirt, black leather pants with a blue-and-orange rising-sun pattern up and down each leg, and black work boots, Nighthawk smiles as his wife Sin cuddles with him. Clad herself in an emerald-green sweater, dark-orange hip-hugging jeans, and black Chuck Taylors, the “Dark Princess” nestles into her husband.
Nighthawk: “You can lie to yourself in this line of work. It’s honestly very easy if you want to try. You can pick your opponents, manufacture a sense of invincibility and menace, and all the while no one ever knows that you’re building everything on sand. But sooner or later, you will step into the ring with someone who can see the lie in front of them.”
Sin: “And if you get good enough, or you have enough potential, there will always be people willing to lie on your behalf.”
Nighthawk: “That’s what I am to you, Ulf. I am someone who can see the lie. To everyone else, I’m outgunned and walking into a suicide mission. To everyone else, this is going to be a brutal beating I’m not about to recover from anytime soon. But, Ulf, I can see the lie. And this week, when you and I do battle, you’re going to find out that there’s nothing you can do, no act of violence you can commit, that will prevent me from showing the world two things. The first is that your entire aura of invincibility is a lie. The 2nd thing is that whenever you throw your weight around, there will always be someone around to tell you to stop, and make you if you don’t listen.”
Sin: “Anything worth doing, Ulf, is doing right. And believe us when we tell you that stopping you, right here and right now, is worth doing.”
Nighthawk: “But as I think about it further, both things I have to show the world and show you, are related. Think about how this all began, Ulf. You bullied people, tried to hurt them, and tried to end their careers. I told you enough and did you come to me like a man and ask for a fight? No. You waited until I was signing autographs for kids before you and your heathen army told me to stay out of your way. And then when I didn’t, I told the world in an interview segment that I was challenging you to this match. Did you attack me then? No. You waited until my back was turned, and then you left me a bloody mess in the middle of the ring. Does that sound like the actions of a warrior to you, Ulf? No. What you did sounds like the actions of a coward. And this week, I prove it.”
Sin: “Be prepared for pain, Ulf. Because a lot of it is coming your way.”
Nighthawk: “You see, Ulf, you’re a Viking. The blood of the Norsemen runs through your veins, and you take great pride in this. As you should. The trouble with that lineage you wrap around you like a security blanket, however, is this. You have allowed the worst stereotypes of being a Viking to take you over. Astrid Hall considers herself a Viking too, but she loves the battle. She loves a fair fight, Ulf, and you do not. I doubt if you ever have. You have no code, no discipline, and no respect for anyone but yourself.”
Sin: “And any man without a code can easily find himself in cowardice.”
Nighthawk: “Myself, I am Irish. My people and yours have shared a continent, sometimes uneasily. But while you hold tight to your lineage, and define yourself exclusively by it, I have added new cultures, and learned new lessons, to mine. I was schooled in Japan, perfected in Mexico, and sharpened to perfection by my travels throughout continental Europe and the British Isles. And because my schooling was in Japan, I became an adherent to bushido. And it is that code, that standard, which I have lived by.”
Sin: “People are calling this the Viking vs the Samurai. And I happen to think they’re right.”
Nighthawk: “I returned to IWF in samurai armor, Ulf, because that is who I am. In my heart of hearts, I am a samurai. But do you know what this samurai holds over you? Not a three-body blade, Ulf, but something just as deadly. I hold the Hangman’s Clutch in my hands, and when I decide to let it loose, you will surrender. You will scream out in pain, and as God is my witness, you will quit. And when you do, when you scream it loud enough that the old gods and the new both hear it, I want you to understand who bested you. The man who trained to find your every opening. The man who knew he could take the best you had to offer. And, most importantly, the man who saw the lie before you knew you were even telling one.”
Nighthawk and Sin: “Goodnight Ulf. May sleep give you the courage to go on.”
Well howdy there pardner.