Post by Mike Laszlo on May 28, 2018 4:24:56 GMT
Wednesday May 23, 2018
As many of you know, I’m a huge fan of my sports teams, and so yes, this promo had to wait through the emotions of a basketball game. It was Game 5 in the NBA playoffs, and I was watching my team go on to win. Unknowingly, my wife turned the camera on before I was paying attention. I watched a layup go in and a foul called, and with a minute left, the game was over despite the time left. I was excited, and I lept off the couch, throwing my fist through the air.
HELL YES!
I threw my fist through the air again, and as I did, I turned and saw Alexis aiming the camera at me.
You caught all of that, didn’t you?
She nodded, a smile on her face behind the camera. I look back at the television, and I look back to the camera, shrugging my shoulders.
It doesn’t matter, it’s a nice prelude.
I sit in front of the camera on the couch and point to the television.
Do you see that? Do you understand what that is? That’s winning. That’s doing what needs to be done in the biggest time of need, and you know what?
I point to myself.
That’s exactly what I’m going to do. That’s exactly how I’m going to perform on the biggest stage we have against Bob Pooler, and I’m going to take that Strong Style Championship from around his waist.
I readjust my seating and get ready to do this all the right way.
Bob, a few weeks ago, you said I showed the world my true colors. I finally plunged that knife in your back as they say, and you come out and almost act shocked. You said we had a chance to win the Tag Team Tournament, but I just shake my head and say, “No, I had a chance to win.” because I carried your ass the entire time.
Bob, I didn’t show you my true colors when I walked out on you. As a matter of fact, I haven’t ever, not once, not for a single, solitary moment have I ever deflected from what the situation truly is. I’m not doing this for you. I’m not doing this for the thousands of people in the arenas on a week in and week out basis. I’m not doing this for the people watching at home. I’m doing this for one group of people. There’s only one group of people on this entire planet who matter to me, and that’s myself, and my family.
I’m not a good guy.
I push my hands together over my heart.
My heart pumps the same blood no matter I’m doing the so-called right think, or doing the dastardly deeds that are needed to be done to get ahead in life. I don’t lose sleep Bob, and I never will because despite what you may think, despite what the critics on the internet might think, I’m true to myself, and when you’re true to yourself, nothing else matters.
I point out to the side.
A month or so back, before this tag team nonsense began, I beat you in the center of that ring. Usually, that would put me right up top to get a shot to take that belt from you. It didn’t. For whatever reason, someone else got a shot before me, and that’s when everything clicked. That’s when I sat in front of a mirror and I looked at myself, and yes, I had a conversation.
Clearly, beating you, and doing things the “right way” wasn’t getting me a damn thing. So it was that moment, before this tournament even happened, where I said to myself, “Do whatever it takes.”. So yes Bob, I walked out on you. Yes, I want a shot at your belt, and well look at that...I did whatever it took, and here we are, this Sunday, in front of literally, the world, and I get the shot I wanted all along. Go figure, right?
I sit back for a moment, and I think of the slight wrench thrown into the match this past week, a special referee, Dean Harper. I cross my arms and chuckle a bit.
So then there’s this week right? You finally give me what I want after ducking like the coward you are a couple of weeks ago, and you think you’ve thrown a little monkey wrench in the plans by announcing a special guest referee.
Again, I shake my head, and still, another chuckle.
I’m sorry. I’ll get it together. I told you last week Bob, and I’ll tell you again. It doesn’t matter the time of day, the location of the arena, or apparently, the referee, I’m better than you. The reason you’re holding that title now, is because I haven’t gotten a shot at it until now. So Bob, midnight comes at Night of the Immortals. Your little carriage that brought you to the ball is about to turn into a pumpkin, and your championship status is about to not only go out the window, but down in flames as you return to the irrelevancy you climbed out of for that slight bit of time.
I grab my own phone and look at the display.
It’s Wednesday Bob. We’re so close. We’re a mere four days away from your final moment as champion. So from now until then, clutch that belt. Love it with all the caring you can. Then Saturday night, when you’re looking at that belt resting either on the counter, or up against the handle of your luggage, I want you to stare at it. I want you to say your goodbyes. I want you to cherish those final moments...and then let it go. Let it go to where it belongs...around...my...waist.
================================
Title: True Colors
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada
Time: 11:53 AM Local Time, the day before Night of the Immortals
I was taping my hands up, getting ready for a sparring session. There was a knock at the door and I looked up with my eyes, barely moving my head.
Mike Laszlo: Come in.
The door slowly slides open and my wife peeks around the corner.
Alexis Caffrey: Hey.
Mike Laszlo: What’s up?
Alexis Caffrey: Nothing. Just came to check on you as I know how you are when these big moments come around.
Mike Laszlo: How I am?
Alexis Caffrey: Yeah. You lock in. There’s no Twitter, no Facebook, hell, you barely text me back.
Mike Laszlo: Um, yeah, I meant to get back to that.
Alexis Caffrey: Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You seem to be a little extra motivated.
I continue taping my hands up as I scoot over, allowing her room on the bench. She sits and rubs my back.
Mike Laszlo: I am. Last year, I didn’t get the opportunity to be on the show. You know how that felt, and so to get that chance to be on the biggest show of the year again, it means something.
Alexis Caffrey: You don’t have to rub it in.
I didn’t even think about the fact that she was stopped short of her goal this past week. I ripped the tape and set it to the side.
Mike Laszlo: My bad. I didn’t…
Alexis Caffrey: It’s fine. I did want to talk to you about something.
Mike Laszlo: Oh?
Alexis Caffrey: All of this talk about your “true colors”; does it get to you?
Mike Laszlo: What do you mean?
Alexis Caffrey: I mean, both of us have been through it. You’ve been a good guy, and then a bad guy, and it’s flipped back and forth, and here you are being the bad guy again. Does it ever get to you?
I shake my head.
Mike Laszlo: Not really. For one, I never minced words. I am who I am, and I do what I have to do to get to the end result I desire. I never claimed to be a role model, never claimed to be a superhero, none of that. I also have to separate it up here.
I point to the side of my head. Then I hold my hands out in front of me, holding up my left.
Mike Laszlo: If I’m here, and I’m the guy that those people are supposed to cheer, and they’re doing just that, then I’m doing my job.
I hold up my right hand while lowering my right.
Mike Laszlo: If I’m on this side of the fence, and they’re supposed to hate me...I’m going to do what I have to do to make them do that, and the boos, in my head, they’re just applause for doing a good job. So really, it doesn’t matter. As long as I know I’m performing at the best of my abilities, I’m going to keep doing this thing I love to do.
She thought about it for a moment, and took a second to digest it. She then nodded.
Alexis Caffrey: Okay, makes sense.
She slaps my knee.
Alexis Caffrey: I interrupted your training, get back to it.
She got up and kissed me on the cheek. She then headed off, leaving me to finish lacing up my boots, all while pondering what it is I said.
Mike Laszlo: Do what I need to do. I want to stay relevant for as long as possible, good or bad. This weekend, that means winning that Strong Style Championship...and like they say...you do...what you gotta do.
========================================
The scene comes back in and I’m sitting here in a chair. The big stage, the elaborate lights, it was all truly breathtaking. Every year, the set gets bigger, the event gets bigger, the attention we get, it’s literally jaw dropping. I look around me at all the empty seats, and I take a deep breath.
Bob, I don’t think you truly understand what this match means for me. Yes, I walked out on you. Yes, these people who sit in these seats are going to boo me for doing so, but do you know what’s going to happen inside my head?
I point to the side of my head while staring into the camera.
I’ll be relishing it. As was proven last year Bob, being here, being a part of Night of the Immortals is never guaranteed. It’s a reward for all of the hard work that one puts in from the last Night of the Immortals until now.
Two years ago, I was in the main event. I was at the highest of highs, cashing in the Joker in the Pack to make that match a huge Triple Threat. Then there was last year. I wasn’t even on the card, and personally, deep down inside, that hurt. It meant that I wasn’t valued enough by this company because I wasn’t valued enough by myself.
I point to the ground.
It was in that very moment, I had a bit of self-reflection and I simply said, “It won’t happen again.”. I vowed to be here, one way or another, and it didn’t matter if I was competing for a title or just punching someone in the mouth in a grudge match, I was going to be here in this moment. I was going to be sitting in this chair, hyping up a match. I tried the Roulette, it didn’t work. So I had to find another way, because there was no chance in hell I was going to miss out on this opportunity again.
Then came you, with your shiny little championship. Then came the teaming up with you in the tournament, and in the snap of a finger, it all came to me. You sir, were my ticket. You were my yellow brick road and there was nothing that was going to stop me.
I stand up and hold my arms out to the side.
SO HERE WE ARE BOB! NIGHT OF THE IMMORTALS!
I point to the camera.
YOU!
I point to myself.
AND ME!
I lean forward on the barricade separating the fans from the ring.
We’re going mono-y-mono, one on one, nose to nose. We’ve had battles in the past, and we’ve gone tooth and nail. We had a strange way of getting here, and now we find out if the journey was worth it. We find out if ditching you off my back was worth it for me. We find out if you playing the little mind games you’re trying to play were worth it.
I hop the barricade and get in the ring.
Bob, I’m going to punch you in the mouth, and these people, the thousands that pack this stadium are going to boo me. I’m going to drive my knee so far into your face that it may just come out the other side...and they’re going to boo me. Bob, I’m going to take your title from you and hold it high over my head with a smile on my face, and again, they’re going to boo me. It’ll sound like hate to the rest of the world. For me? I’m going to close my eyes and soak it in.
I do just that, my arm held straight up in the air. With my eyes closed, a smirk comes across my face.
And it’s going to be music...to my ears. Then you’ll really see my “true colors”...the colors of being a champion.
I bring my head down and look directly into the camera.
Bring your best Bob...and don’t forget…my Strong Style Championship.
That same smirk remains on my face. I shoot a wink into the camera before it fades to black.
As many of you know, I’m a huge fan of my sports teams, and so yes, this promo had to wait through the emotions of a basketball game. It was Game 5 in the NBA playoffs, and I was watching my team go on to win. Unknowingly, my wife turned the camera on before I was paying attention. I watched a layup go in and a foul called, and with a minute left, the game was over despite the time left. I was excited, and I lept off the couch, throwing my fist through the air.
HELL YES!
I threw my fist through the air again, and as I did, I turned and saw Alexis aiming the camera at me.
You caught all of that, didn’t you?
She nodded, a smile on her face behind the camera. I look back at the television, and I look back to the camera, shrugging my shoulders.
It doesn’t matter, it’s a nice prelude.
I sit in front of the camera on the couch and point to the television.
Do you see that? Do you understand what that is? That’s winning. That’s doing what needs to be done in the biggest time of need, and you know what?
I point to myself.
That’s exactly what I’m going to do. That’s exactly how I’m going to perform on the biggest stage we have against Bob Pooler, and I’m going to take that Strong Style Championship from around his waist.
I readjust my seating and get ready to do this all the right way.
Bob, a few weeks ago, you said I showed the world my true colors. I finally plunged that knife in your back as they say, and you come out and almost act shocked. You said we had a chance to win the Tag Team Tournament, but I just shake my head and say, “No, I had a chance to win.” because I carried your ass the entire time.
Bob, I didn’t show you my true colors when I walked out on you. As a matter of fact, I haven’t ever, not once, not for a single, solitary moment have I ever deflected from what the situation truly is. I’m not doing this for you. I’m not doing this for the thousands of people in the arenas on a week in and week out basis. I’m not doing this for the people watching at home. I’m doing this for one group of people. There’s only one group of people on this entire planet who matter to me, and that’s myself, and my family.
I’m not a good guy.
I push my hands together over my heart.
My heart pumps the same blood no matter I’m doing the so-called right think, or doing the dastardly deeds that are needed to be done to get ahead in life. I don’t lose sleep Bob, and I never will because despite what you may think, despite what the critics on the internet might think, I’m true to myself, and when you’re true to yourself, nothing else matters.
I point out to the side.
A month or so back, before this tag team nonsense began, I beat you in the center of that ring. Usually, that would put me right up top to get a shot to take that belt from you. It didn’t. For whatever reason, someone else got a shot before me, and that’s when everything clicked. That’s when I sat in front of a mirror and I looked at myself, and yes, I had a conversation.
Clearly, beating you, and doing things the “right way” wasn’t getting me a damn thing. So it was that moment, before this tournament even happened, where I said to myself, “Do whatever it takes.”. So yes Bob, I walked out on you. Yes, I want a shot at your belt, and well look at that...I did whatever it took, and here we are, this Sunday, in front of literally, the world, and I get the shot I wanted all along. Go figure, right?
I sit back for a moment, and I think of the slight wrench thrown into the match this past week, a special referee, Dean Harper. I cross my arms and chuckle a bit.
So then there’s this week right? You finally give me what I want after ducking like the coward you are a couple of weeks ago, and you think you’ve thrown a little monkey wrench in the plans by announcing a special guest referee.
Again, I shake my head, and still, another chuckle.
I’m sorry. I’ll get it together. I told you last week Bob, and I’ll tell you again. It doesn’t matter the time of day, the location of the arena, or apparently, the referee, I’m better than you. The reason you’re holding that title now, is because I haven’t gotten a shot at it until now. So Bob, midnight comes at Night of the Immortals. Your little carriage that brought you to the ball is about to turn into a pumpkin, and your championship status is about to not only go out the window, but down in flames as you return to the irrelevancy you climbed out of for that slight bit of time.
I grab my own phone and look at the display.
It’s Wednesday Bob. We’re so close. We’re a mere four days away from your final moment as champion. So from now until then, clutch that belt. Love it with all the caring you can. Then Saturday night, when you’re looking at that belt resting either on the counter, or up against the handle of your luggage, I want you to stare at it. I want you to say your goodbyes. I want you to cherish those final moments...and then let it go. Let it go to where it belongs...around...my...waist.
================================
Title: True Colors
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada
Time: 11:53 AM Local Time, the day before Night of the Immortals
I was taping my hands up, getting ready for a sparring session. There was a knock at the door and I looked up with my eyes, barely moving my head.
Mike Laszlo: Come in.
The door slowly slides open and my wife peeks around the corner.
Alexis Caffrey: Hey.
Mike Laszlo: What’s up?
Alexis Caffrey: Nothing. Just came to check on you as I know how you are when these big moments come around.
Mike Laszlo: How I am?
Alexis Caffrey: Yeah. You lock in. There’s no Twitter, no Facebook, hell, you barely text me back.
Mike Laszlo: Um, yeah, I meant to get back to that.
Alexis Caffrey: Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You seem to be a little extra motivated.
I continue taping my hands up as I scoot over, allowing her room on the bench. She sits and rubs my back.
Mike Laszlo: I am. Last year, I didn’t get the opportunity to be on the show. You know how that felt, and so to get that chance to be on the biggest show of the year again, it means something.
Alexis Caffrey: You don’t have to rub it in.
I didn’t even think about the fact that she was stopped short of her goal this past week. I ripped the tape and set it to the side.
Mike Laszlo: My bad. I didn’t…
Alexis Caffrey: It’s fine. I did want to talk to you about something.
Mike Laszlo: Oh?
Alexis Caffrey: All of this talk about your “true colors”; does it get to you?
Mike Laszlo: What do you mean?
Alexis Caffrey: I mean, both of us have been through it. You’ve been a good guy, and then a bad guy, and it’s flipped back and forth, and here you are being the bad guy again. Does it ever get to you?
I shake my head.
Mike Laszlo: Not really. For one, I never minced words. I am who I am, and I do what I have to do to get to the end result I desire. I never claimed to be a role model, never claimed to be a superhero, none of that. I also have to separate it up here.
I point to the side of my head. Then I hold my hands out in front of me, holding up my left.
Mike Laszlo: If I’m here, and I’m the guy that those people are supposed to cheer, and they’re doing just that, then I’m doing my job.
I hold up my right hand while lowering my right.
Mike Laszlo: If I’m on this side of the fence, and they’re supposed to hate me...I’m going to do what I have to do to make them do that, and the boos, in my head, they’re just applause for doing a good job. So really, it doesn’t matter. As long as I know I’m performing at the best of my abilities, I’m going to keep doing this thing I love to do.
She thought about it for a moment, and took a second to digest it. She then nodded.
Alexis Caffrey: Okay, makes sense.
She slaps my knee.
Alexis Caffrey: I interrupted your training, get back to it.
She got up and kissed me on the cheek. She then headed off, leaving me to finish lacing up my boots, all while pondering what it is I said.
Mike Laszlo: Do what I need to do. I want to stay relevant for as long as possible, good or bad. This weekend, that means winning that Strong Style Championship...and like they say...you do...what you gotta do.
========================================
The scene comes back in and I’m sitting here in a chair. The big stage, the elaborate lights, it was all truly breathtaking. Every year, the set gets bigger, the event gets bigger, the attention we get, it’s literally jaw dropping. I look around me at all the empty seats, and I take a deep breath.
Bob, I don’t think you truly understand what this match means for me. Yes, I walked out on you. Yes, these people who sit in these seats are going to boo me for doing so, but do you know what’s going to happen inside my head?
I point to the side of my head while staring into the camera.
I’ll be relishing it. As was proven last year Bob, being here, being a part of Night of the Immortals is never guaranteed. It’s a reward for all of the hard work that one puts in from the last Night of the Immortals until now.
Two years ago, I was in the main event. I was at the highest of highs, cashing in the Joker in the Pack to make that match a huge Triple Threat. Then there was last year. I wasn’t even on the card, and personally, deep down inside, that hurt. It meant that I wasn’t valued enough by this company because I wasn’t valued enough by myself.
I point to the ground.
It was in that very moment, I had a bit of self-reflection and I simply said, “It won’t happen again.”. I vowed to be here, one way or another, and it didn’t matter if I was competing for a title or just punching someone in the mouth in a grudge match, I was going to be here in this moment. I was going to be sitting in this chair, hyping up a match. I tried the Roulette, it didn’t work. So I had to find another way, because there was no chance in hell I was going to miss out on this opportunity again.
Then came you, with your shiny little championship. Then came the teaming up with you in the tournament, and in the snap of a finger, it all came to me. You sir, were my ticket. You were my yellow brick road and there was nothing that was going to stop me.
I stand up and hold my arms out to the side.
SO HERE WE ARE BOB! NIGHT OF THE IMMORTALS!
I point to the camera.
YOU!
I point to myself.
AND ME!
I lean forward on the barricade separating the fans from the ring.
We’re going mono-y-mono, one on one, nose to nose. We’ve had battles in the past, and we’ve gone tooth and nail. We had a strange way of getting here, and now we find out if the journey was worth it. We find out if ditching you off my back was worth it for me. We find out if you playing the little mind games you’re trying to play were worth it.
I hop the barricade and get in the ring.
Bob, I’m going to punch you in the mouth, and these people, the thousands that pack this stadium are going to boo me. I’m going to drive my knee so far into your face that it may just come out the other side...and they’re going to boo me. Bob, I’m going to take your title from you and hold it high over my head with a smile on my face, and again, they’re going to boo me. It’ll sound like hate to the rest of the world. For me? I’m going to close my eyes and soak it in.
I do just that, my arm held straight up in the air. With my eyes closed, a smirk comes across my face.
And it’s going to be music...to my ears. Then you’ll really see my “true colors”...the colors of being a champion.
I bring my head down and look directly into the camera.
Bring your best Bob...and don’t forget…my Strong Style Championship.
That same smirk remains on my face. I shoot a wink into the camera before it fades to black.
Well howdy there pardner.