Post by Mike Laszlo on Sept 29, 2013 17:07:05 GMT
So close, yet so far away. Ask anyone and they will tell you that that’s the story of my life, or at least my career here in the IWF. I had my shot at doing things that no other man has ever done in this company. Hell if I played my cards right and did one thing different in a match here and there, I could be the most successful wrestler in the IWF on this roster, past or present. I could have been part of the first team to beat InFamous. A few weeks later, I could have been the first ever IWF Heavyweight Champion. Then a few weeks later even, I could have been IWF Imperial Champion, the first of its kind. This past Sunday at Extreme Endurance, if I would have hooked on the Entanglement submission hold seconds sooner I could have at least took the match into overtime and given myself a shot to win the Man of Steel title. Three championship opportunities and I didn’t take advantage of any of them. One huge victory, and I couldn’t get the job done. Sound familiar? It’s what every single person who has come against me has said, does say, and forever will say when they find out that they are stepping across the ring from me.
Really Spike? I expected better. I thought that the man who single-handedly ended the tyranny of the Juggernauts would be a bit more original than every run of the mill guy on this roster. Of all the failures I’ve come across in the IWF, do you know the one instance I look back on and I don’t say to myself, “What if?” The date was June, twenty-fourth, two-thousand and thirteen. Do you remember it? Great card for Sacrifice. In the middle of that card was a grudge match between a loud mouth, arrogant, bleach blonde, yet talented wrestler named Mike Laszlo, and a cagey, wily, current Tag Team Champion, who now holds the Imperial Title concurrently, Spike Kane. And on that week a little over three months ago the two of us chewed one another out both in promo and on Twitter as we had done previously, and then when it got time to get into that ring, the two of us did something that I truly wanted to be a part of even if I didn’t mention it at the time. We put on a show and stole that show in an effort that showcased what the IWF is all about. Back and forth we went until, unfortunately, those two idiots who were Criminal Intent came down and squandered what was a great bout. I was about to hit Malicious Intent, you did hit the Thunderstruck. The outcome may have been academic, but as for that night, we truly will never know. That is the one thing I haven’t regretted since being signed to a contract here. I took you to your limit, as you did me. We left it all out there and unfortunately a clear winner couldn’t have been decided.
This week will be different Spike. There is no Criminal Intent, and really it seems like the stars have aligned in an effort to allow us to finally find out one and for all who the better man is inside that ring. History says you based on merit, based on experience, based on the overall body of work within the confines of the past in both IWF and NCW. Though history is always doomed to repeat at some point or time or another, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that history has a new chapter written Monday night on Sacrifice. There won’t be a disqualification finish; no count out victory; just two guys who have a grudge, going out to that ring, and finally settling it once and for all. I for one…can’t wait.
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Title: So Close…
Location: Quicken Loans Arena, Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 11:32 PM (After Extreme Endurance)
The scene comes into focus with myself and Alexis walking through the halls and corridors of Quicken Loans Arena as we head to the parking garage. I wasn’t quite distraught over my victory, but one could tell that I wasn’t too fond of the outcome, nor would anyone in my position. Being the supportive girlfriend she is, Alexis offered words of comfort.
Alexis Caffrey: You were close babe. You’ll break out of whatever funk you’re in.
Mike Laszlo: That’s my problem, I’ve been getting close way too much. I’ve come within inches, or in tonight’s case, seconds away from beating the best this company has to offer, then either time expires, or I just can’t pull out the stops. All this losing really isn’t good for a man’s psyche.
Alexis Caffrey: Don’t let it get to you. As much crap as you’ve been going through lately, it’s understandable if you’re not focused.
Mike Laszlo: That’s never been a problem before though and that’s what has me worried. No matter the circumstance, I’ve always been able to go out to that ring, and in the process, forget about everything going on in my personal life. I’ve been able to assimilate the Mike Laszlo character, leaving Mike Laszlo the person behind, so that I can accomplish the goals in which I set out. This time was different. This time, I couldn’t help but think of Raven in the hospital. I couldn’t put out of mind the image of her and Reynolds being taken out of that apartment building in an ambulance. Then I would look to ringside while fighting and I would see you standing there, and I couldn’t help but think “What if?”
The question in itself was a big one. The look on her face showed the contemplation of it all as she tried her best to delve into the complications of it all.
Alexis Caffrey: What do you mean what if?
We stopped in our tracks as I looked up at the ceiling. The pressure of the world has been thrust on my shoulders and this is one thing that I couldn’t fail at. Lives were on the line. It wasn’t some shiny belt, and hell, it wasn’t even my pride. This was life and death. As I looked down at her she could see the worrisome look on my face as I confessed me deepest fear.
Mike Laszlo: What if that was you? What if this psychopath hopped the barricade and hurt you. What if while we were walking around backstage here, he jumps us with some guys and they hurt you in anyway shape or form? If you got hurt because of me, I don’t know what the hell I would do. The despair it would cause, the downward spiral, I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life, but that honestly would be one of the few things that just sends me right over the edge. I can’t let it happen…I won’t.
She takes a few steps closer and wraps her arms around me as I closed my eyes and rested my chin upon her shoulder. We stood there in an embrace as she tried her best to settle down the situation.
Alexis Caffrey: Nothing is going to happen to me. If it were, you would get through it. I’m a tough cookie, and I’m not going to disappear because of some idiot who puts his hands on me. I’m by your side no matter what, through thick and thin. I’ve got your back as I know you have mine no matter the circumstance. Should the day come that I get beat up, we’ll figure out a way to get past it, get even, and move on.
Her words were reassuring yet fear inducing at the same time. I didn’t want her to go through the beating that Raven has gone through. It wasn’t going to come to that. I wouldn’t let it come to that.
Mike Laszlo: No…we wouldn’t. It’s not going to happen.
She pulls away slightly from the embrace, her hands still on my shoulders, and looks up at me with her gorgeous brown eyes and seems as if she is staring directly into my soul.
Alexis Caffrey: It’ll be okay Mike. Let’s just go home and settle down a bit. We’ll figure out a course of action and go from there.
I nod in agreement which causes her to step to the side, taking my hand in a sign of unity as we head down the hall and follow the sign that reads “Parking” with an arrow to the right. As we turn the corner and walk into the rows of cars I catch a glimpse of my black Corvette and immediately rush over to it, pulling Alexis with me.
Mike Laszlo: WHAT THE F***!?
There’s an absolute look of horror on her face as she takes a step back and gasps with her hands over her face.
Alexis Caffrey: (Muffled by her hands.) Oh my God.
Walking around my car I see that both the passenger and driver side windows have been busted out, and all four tires are slashed. Through the back window lied some sort of axe stuck into the shattered glass, and the front window was busted out with a brick that lie in the front of the interior with a piece of paper wrapped around it. Opening the door and pulling the brick out of the car, I drop it to the ground next to me and read the contents of the note.
Mike Laszlo: This proves that I can get you any place, any time. Watch your back!
In a fit of rage, I crumble the note in my hand and throw it into the car.
Mike Laszlo: SON OF A BITCH! WHERE THE HELL WAS SECURITY!?
Pulling out my phone I dial 9-1-1 and explain the situation. The scene fades as two cop cars with flashers and sirens on, pull down the ramp and into the parking garage of Quicken Loans Arena.
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When I say I can’t wait Spike, I mean every word of it. I can’t wait. I want Monday to be here more than any other day. The desire I have to be in the ring with a competitor of your stature is truly insurmountable. Egos aside, bravado aside, I want to commend you on your efforts this past Sunday. I want to be a part of another long line of people who congratulate you on becoming the Imperial Champion because as they have all seen on TV as I have seen on TV and gotten a glimpse of backstage, you’ve worked your ass off and deserve everything you have coming to you, including that belt, better yet, that championship. You’ve done it all in your near two decade run and your career as a whole warrants every single accolade you’ve ever achieved. That’s why I bugged you all those months on Twitter. That’s why I’ve continued to do so, albeit to a slightly modified extent as I’ve had other worries to tend to. It’s what I do Spike. I want something and by hook or crook, word of mouth or action, I tend to get it, or at least get the opportunity. I’m what people call a silver-tongued devil. I can talk with the best of them and I am one hell of a persuasion artist. I didn’t just get handed the opportunities I’ve been presented throughout my time here in IWF or my time in NCW or anywhere else for that matter, I talked my way into them. It worked then and it works now. My simple words on a Tweet were enough to fire you up again. Those few characters were enough to make you want to “kick my teeth down my throat” again. They made you want to truly find out who the better man was as it has yet to be determined cleanly.
Spike, you didn’t ask for this match just to shut me up. You asked for this match because you have something to prove no matter you like to admit it or not, just as I do. The two of us really aren’t so different. We want the competition and we want it at its best so that we can prove we are truly above it all. We want to prove it so that when we say it on a microphone, or tell someone to their face, it will be cemented in stone cold truth. We can say it all we want this very moment in time but it truly means nothing and deep down inside my being…that hurts.
Anyone can parade around town with a shirt, or have it emblazed on their trunks in shiny, sparkly letters that they are “The Best in the World”, “Best in the Universe”, “Best at What They Do”, or hell, even “Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread”; but to prove it in that ring on a nightly basis in front of thousands live or millions watching around the world is what truly embodies that spirit. It’s what truly represents that passion, that desire that is in all of us deep down inside.
I wanted that match with you months ago to prove I was better and at best I proved that my skills in that ring were equal to yours on that night, and so far there has been no true recoil. To this point there has been no rebuttal until you opened your mouth, and hypocritically spoke out against what you had Tweeted later that night. That night you said and I quote “You proved you could hang kid. Fair play, you earned my respect. We'll go again soon, but first I need to beat the crap out of some colonial cowards.”
So I earned your respect then, but now you say you don’t respect me? Which is it? You contradict yourself with the words you speak as opposed to the words you Tweet. If all you’re trying to tell me is bring my “A” game, just come out and say it because if you beat around the bush too long, the contradiction game gets played, and it goes round and round until apparently you can’t keep track anymore. Consistently I have gone on record as saying I want to beat you, and that fact holds no less valor today than it did three months ago. The want is still there and the desire is still there Spike. The words that we speak now mean little compared to the actions we will perform in that ring Monday night. Don’t worry about me bringing the best I have to offer, I just hope you do the same.
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Title: Yet So Far Away
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 10:21 AM (The Morning After Extreme Endurance)
The night before…what a wreck. First I don’t get my hands on the Man of Steel Title, and then I come out to the parking garage only to find my car left in shambles. What the hell else wants to go wrong today? I couldn’t sleep. Am I exhausted? You bet your ass I’m exhausted. I went through a grueling half-hour physical altercation, put myself through a hell of a lot more emotional situations then I wanted to, and then to cap it off dealt with my car being destroyed. I want to sleep so bad, but the emotion, the anger, it wouldn’t let me do it. So as Alexis laid in bed in a deep slumber, with multiple uniformed officers outside my home in an attempt to keep my family safe, I headed downstairs from my bedroom and to the front door where two men sat on the front porch. They were officers, off duty, being paid to protect my house. They had volunteered but I couldn’t just let them do it for free. As I took a step out the door, one of them stood up and asked if he could accompany me for protection purposes.
Mike Laszlo: No. Your job is to make sure the girls in this house are safe. After last night, I don’t want anything to happen to them.
Security 1: What about you?
Mike Laszlo: I’ll be fine. I’m headed to the hospital if any of them ask.
He nodded and sat back down as I went to the driveway where my other car, a truck to be more precise, Dodge Ram, black in color, sat waiting to be driven. As I got to the hospital and walked up to the nurses desk I greeted them with a box of donuts, a simple gesture, thanking them for the time and effort they’ve gone through protecting a friend and keeping her as healthy as possible. They greeted me with smiles and thanked me as I set the box down on the counter and headed for Raven’s room. As I walked in I saw that she was awake and staring at the TV until she saw me walk in.
Raven Simpson: Hi.
Slowly I walked in and pulled a chair up to her bedside, taking a seat as she maneuvered in the bed. I looked her over and saw the stitches in her head, and the black and blue marks that riddled her body. In a fit of despair I draped my head, staring at the speckled tile floor beneath me. I didn’t even want to look at her. I knew that what had happened was my fault. The turmoil and the conflict inside was too much. She reached over, flicking her wrist in an act to garner my attention, causing me to look up.
Raven Simpson: Hey, what is it?
Mike Laszlo: This. (Waving my arms over her as if showcasing the situation I was talking about.) It’s my fault.
Raven Simpson: No.
Mike Laszlo: YES! I should have kept you at my house in the guest room. I should have done more to protect you. Now you’re here, beat up, in this bed, because of me.
Raven Simpson: It’s not because of you Mike. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I’m the one who got involved with this guy. I’m the one who tried to back out of a deal, and I deserve this.
I stood up from my chair in shock and looked at her with my eyes squinted a bit and my brow furrowed.
Mike Laszlo: DESERVE THIS!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? Nobody deserves this, I don’t give a damn what you backed out of. This cowardly piece of shit wants to beat up on women, and then wants to make threats at me, even going to the lengths of destroying my car and…
Raven Simpson: Wait, what?
I realized that she had no idea what had happened the night before as I had failed to mention it before my tantrum. Calming down a minute I brushed it off as a minor detail.
Mike Laszlo: Last night at the arena, he came and destroyed my car.
Raven Simpson: How do you know it was him?
Mike Laszlo: I don’t know it was him per say, but I know if not him, it was one of his goons. They left a note inside saying he can get me at any time, any place.
She began to tear up and started in a whimper, apologizing for everything.
Raven Simpson: I…I…I’m so sorry I got you involved. Now you’re in da…danger. Your family is in danger. I can’t believe I let you do this for me. I’m so soooooorry.
She started crying uncontrollably as I walked over and took her by the hand.
Mike Laszlo: Hey…hey…hey stop. You didn’t do anything. You were in need and you came to the one person you thought could help you, and I’m going to do just that. I put myself in this position and now I need to handle it accordingly. Destroying my property isn’t going to persuade me any differently. There are off duty cops watching my family with uniformed officers driving by in random intervals. I’m going to get this son of a bitch, and now, he’s just driving me farther. Now he’s pushing buttons he should have never pushed. If I get my hands on him, it’ll be the worst thing to ever happen to him.
Her crying had turned to light sobbing as she looked on and simply nodded in agreement with what I had said. I set her hand back in her lap and happened to hear the doctor behind me as he walked by. I looked at her as slowly she began to regain her composure.
Mike Laszlo: I’ll see you later, I’m going to go talk to the doctor.
She nodded again as I picked her hand back up and kissed it before allowing her to pull it away. Turning I made a dash for the doctor.
Mike Laszlo: Doc!
He turned his head and saw it was me. He dismissed who he was talking to and waited for me to catch up.
Doctor: Mr. Laszlo, what can I do for you?
Mike Laszlo: I was wondering when Raven would be allowed to be discharged.
Doctor: We ran a few tests like X-ray and MRIs to see the progression of the healing. We’ll look at those results later and a determination will be made then.
Mike Laszlo: Is there any way to put a rush on it? I feel responsible for what happened, and just want to get her in the safest environment possible.
Doctor: I assure you, the hospital is secure.
Mike Laszlo: Yeah…okay. I’ll see you later.
Doctor: Good day.
I turned and walked away bidding farewell to the nurses as I hit the elevator. The doors closed and I was by myself, allowing me to bury myself in guilt once more.
Mike Laszlo: Now she’s stuck here, at least another day. I can’t believe I let this happen. Why the hell can’t I do anything right these days? If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be here. If it weren’t for me, Reynolds wouldn’t be suffering from a concussion. If it weren’t for me I wouldn’t need my damn house under lockdown with guards, patrol units, the whole nine. Why the hell is all of this crap happening to me? I need to fix it. I need to make things better. I need to put an end to this crap once and for all.
As the elevator opens, I walk out to the main exit as the scene fades.\
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It’s funny how things work Spike. The world turns, the hours on the clock quickly pass by one after another, and soon those hours turn to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. All of this time, both in my personal life, and my career, I thought that I was invincible. I thought that no matter what happened, no matter what went wrong, I could fix it. No matter the despair I had been through, the heartache I had felt, I could make it all better. I felt that burden for so long, and in some cases as illustrated, still do to this day.
Now there’s a difference.
Before I thought I had to make it better. Before, I thought it was all on me or bust. Nothing else mattered no matter how much others tried to help…it had to be me. Do you get it? Do you understand the predicament, the stress that can put on a person?
The stress and pressure to prove to the world that you are the best no matter what? Admitting fault was viewed as a weakness. To admit loss was to admit failure and to me for so long, that was unacceptable and downright foolish. I couldn’t accept defeat because my body, my brain wouldn’t allow it.
Things have changed…for the better.
Now I see the light. An epiphany is a funny thing. The revelation to the fact that losing wasn’t a weakness after all; that losing wasn’t a fault was astounding…refreshing. To know that I didn’t have to view losing as a pitfall of despair was a weight lifted off my shoulders of unbearable proportions. Losing isn’t all it’s made out to be. Instead, losing is something valuable, and although it’s viewed as a negative by many, my previous way of thinking included, I now see it for what it truly is…a lesson.
Losing is a lesson, a warning sign of sorts that adaptation is needed. I need to now adapt to what I’ve been doing wrong this whole time, and I need to correct that flaw, which in the end makes the win all that more enjoyable. For now, rather than the win just being a victory over someone, it is also a victory over a fault. It is the correction of an error, the erasing of a flaw that has held me down for so long. To know that it isn’t Mike Laszlo fixing all that is wrong or bust has led me to this light. To know that if I lose, it isn’t the end of the world is a revelation worth basking in. It has formed this entire idea, this theory that I have now passed on in form of spoken word for the last few weeks now, though seemingly it has gone on unnoticed by you.
The theory, this idea that I now live by, says that there is no need for bravado when speaking. There is no need to tell someone they suck, to berate them to the point that they wish to slit their wrists with a razor blade. This new idea has shown me the light, that to speak about someone’s faults is the true weakness of a competitor. So this Monday I won’t be speaking at all. This Monday I will turn that weakness into a strength when rather than speak of your flaws, I exploit them to my benefit. Monday night I take all I have learned from my failures and I cram those lessons down your throat. Monday I show the world what I am made of when I take on the Imperial Champion, the face of this franchise, and I do everything in my power to knock him down and prove my worth. On Sacrifice, I prove that I truly do belong.
Really Spike? I expected better. I thought that the man who single-handedly ended the tyranny of the Juggernauts would be a bit more original than every run of the mill guy on this roster. Of all the failures I’ve come across in the IWF, do you know the one instance I look back on and I don’t say to myself, “What if?” The date was June, twenty-fourth, two-thousand and thirteen. Do you remember it? Great card for Sacrifice. In the middle of that card was a grudge match between a loud mouth, arrogant, bleach blonde, yet talented wrestler named Mike Laszlo, and a cagey, wily, current Tag Team Champion, who now holds the Imperial Title concurrently, Spike Kane. And on that week a little over three months ago the two of us chewed one another out both in promo and on Twitter as we had done previously, and then when it got time to get into that ring, the two of us did something that I truly wanted to be a part of even if I didn’t mention it at the time. We put on a show and stole that show in an effort that showcased what the IWF is all about. Back and forth we went until, unfortunately, those two idiots who were Criminal Intent came down and squandered what was a great bout. I was about to hit Malicious Intent, you did hit the Thunderstruck. The outcome may have been academic, but as for that night, we truly will never know. That is the one thing I haven’t regretted since being signed to a contract here. I took you to your limit, as you did me. We left it all out there and unfortunately a clear winner couldn’t have been decided.
This week will be different Spike. There is no Criminal Intent, and really it seems like the stars have aligned in an effort to allow us to finally find out one and for all who the better man is inside that ring. History says you based on merit, based on experience, based on the overall body of work within the confines of the past in both IWF and NCW. Though history is always doomed to repeat at some point or time or another, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that history has a new chapter written Monday night on Sacrifice. There won’t be a disqualification finish; no count out victory; just two guys who have a grudge, going out to that ring, and finally settling it once and for all. I for one…can’t wait.
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Title: So Close…
Location: Quicken Loans Arena, Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 11:32 PM (After Extreme Endurance)
The scene comes into focus with myself and Alexis walking through the halls and corridors of Quicken Loans Arena as we head to the parking garage. I wasn’t quite distraught over my victory, but one could tell that I wasn’t too fond of the outcome, nor would anyone in my position. Being the supportive girlfriend she is, Alexis offered words of comfort.
Alexis Caffrey: You were close babe. You’ll break out of whatever funk you’re in.
Mike Laszlo: That’s my problem, I’ve been getting close way too much. I’ve come within inches, or in tonight’s case, seconds away from beating the best this company has to offer, then either time expires, or I just can’t pull out the stops. All this losing really isn’t good for a man’s psyche.
Alexis Caffrey: Don’t let it get to you. As much crap as you’ve been going through lately, it’s understandable if you’re not focused.
Mike Laszlo: That’s never been a problem before though and that’s what has me worried. No matter the circumstance, I’ve always been able to go out to that ring, and in the process, forget about everything going on in my personal life. I’ve been able to assimilate the Mike Laszlo character, leaving Mike Laszlo the person behind, so that I can accomplish the goals in which I set out. This time was different. This time, I couldn’t help but think of Raven in the hospital. I couldn’t put out of mind the image of her and Reynolds being taken out of that apartment building in an ambulance. Then I would look to ringside while fighting and I would see you standing there, and I couldn’t help but think “What if?”
The question in itself was a big one. The look on her face showed the contemplation of it all as she tried her best to delve into the complications of it all.
Alexis Caffrey: What do you mean what if?
We stopped in our tracks as I looked up at the ceiling. The pressure of the world has been thrust on my shoulders and this is one thing that I couldn’t fail at. Lives were on the line. It wasn’t some shiny belt, and hell, it wasn’t even my pride. This was life and death. As I looked down at her she could see the worrisome look on my face as I confessed me deepest fear.
Mike Laszlo: What if that was you? What if this psychopath hopped the barricade and hurt you. What if while we were walking around backstage here, he jumps us with some guys and they hurt you in anyway shape or form? If you got hurt because of me, I don’t know what the hell I would do. The despair it would cause, the downward spiral, I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life, but that honestly would be one of the few things that just sends me right over the edge. I can’t let it happen…I won’t.
She takes a few steps closer and wraps her arms around me as I closed my eyes and rested my chin upon her shoulder. We stood there in an embrace as she tried her best to settle down the situation.
Alexis Caffrey: Nothing is going to happen to me. If it were, you would get through it. I’m a tough cookie, and I’m not going to disappear because of some idiot who puts his hands on me. I’m by your side no matter what, through thick and thin. I’ve got your back as I know you have mine no matter the circumstance. Should the day come that I get beat up, we’ll figure out a way to get past it, get even, and move on.
Her words were reassuring yet fear inducing at the same time. I didn’t want her to go through the beating that Raven has gone through. It wasn’t going to come to that. I wouldn’t let it come to that.
Mike Laszlo: No…we wouldn’t. It’s not going to happen.
She pulls away slightly from the embrace, her hands still on my shoulders, and looks up at me with her gorgeous brown eyes and seems as if she is staring directly into my soul.
Alexis Caffrey: It’ll be okay Mike. Let’s just go home and settle down a bit. We’ll figure out a course of action and go from there.
I nod in agreement which causes her to step to the side, taking my hand in a sign of unity as we head down the hall and follow the sign that reads “Parking” with an arrow to the right. As we turn the corner and walk into the rows of cars I catch a glimpse of my black Corvette and immediately rush over to it, pulling Alexis with me.
Mike Laszlo: WHAT THE F***!?
There’s an absolute look of horror on her face as she takes a step back and gasps with her hands over her face.
Alexis Caffrey: (Muffled by her hands.) Oh my God.
Walking around my car I see that both the passenger and driver side windows have been busted out, and all four tires are slashed. Through the back window lied some sort of axe stuck into the shattered glass, and the front window was busted out with a brick that lie in the front of the interior with a piece of paper wrapped around it. Opening the door and pulling the brick out of the car, I drop it to the ground next to me and read the contents of the note.
Mike Laszlo: This proves that I can get you any place, any time. Watch your back!
In a fit of rage, I crumble the note in my hand and throw it into the car.
Mike Laszlo: SON OF A BITCH! WHERE THE HELL WAS SECURITY!?
Pulling out my phone I dial 9-1-1 and explain the situation. The scene fades as two cop cars with flashers and sirens on, pull down the ramp and into the parking garage of Quicken Loans Arena.
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When I say I can’t wait Spike, I mean every word of it. I can’t wait. I want Monday to be here more than any other day. The desire I have to be in the ring with a competitor of your stature is truly insurmountable. Egos aside, bravado aside, I want to commend you on your efforts this past Sunday. I want to be a part of another long line of people who congratulate you on becoming the Imperial Champion because as they have all seen on TV as I have seen on TV and gotten a glimpse of backstage, you’ve worked your ass off and deserve everything you have coming to you, including that belt, better yet, that championship. You’ve done it all in your near two decade run and your career as a whole warrants every single accolade you’ve ever achieved. That’s why I bugged you all those months on Twitter. That’s why I’ve continued to do so, albeit to a slightly modified extent as I’ve had other worries to tend to. It’s what I do Spike. I want something and by hook or crook, word of mouth or action, I tend to get it, or at least get the opportunity. I’m what people call a silver-tongued devil. I can talk with the best of them and I am one hell of a persuasion artist. I didn’t just get handed the opportunities I’ve been presented throughout my time here in IWF or my time in NCW or anywhere else for that matter, I talked my way into them. It worked then and it works now. My simple words on a Tweet were enough to fire you up again. Those few characters were enough to make you want to “kick my teeth down my throat” again. They made you want to truly find out who the better man was as it has yet to be determined cleanly.
Spike, you didn’t ask for this match just to shut me up. You asked for this match because you have something to prove no matter you like to admit it or not, just as I do. The two of us really aren’t so different. We want the competition and we want it at its best so that we can prove we are truly above it all. We want to prove it so that when we say it on a microphone, or tell someone to their face, it will be cemented in stone cold truth. We can say it all we want this very moment in time but it truly means nothing and deep down inside my being…that hurts.
Anyone can parade around town with a shirt, or have it emblazed on their trunks in shiny, sparkly letters that they are “The Best in the World”, “Best in the Universe”, “Best at What They Do”, or hell, even “Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread”; but to prove it in that ring on a nightly basis in front of thousands live or millions watching around the world is what truly embodies that spirit. It’s what truly represents that passion, that desire that is in all of us deep down inside.
I wanted that match with you months ago to prove I was better and at best I proved that my skills in that ring were equal to yours on that night, and so far there has been no true recoil. To this point there has been no rebuttal until you opened your mouth, and hypocritically spoke out against what you had Tweeted later that night. That night you said and I quote “You proved you could hang kid. Fair play, you earned my respect. We'll go again soon, but first I need to beat the crap out of some colonial cowards.”
So I earned your respect then, but now you say you don’t respect me? Which is it? You contradict yourself with the words you speak as opposed to the words you Tweet. If all you’re trying to tell me is bring my “A” game, just come out and say it because if you beat around the bush too long, the contradiction game gets played, and it goes round and round until apparently you can’t keep track anymore. Consistently I have gone on record as saying I want to beat you, and that fact holds no less valor today than it did three months ago. The want is still there and the desire is still there Spike. The words that we speak now mean little compared to the actions we will perform in that ring Monday night. Don’t worry about me bringing the best I have to offer, I just hope you do the same.
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Title: Yet So Far Away
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 10:21 AM (The Morning After Extreme Endurance)
The night before…what a wreck. First I don’t get my hands on the Man of Steel Title, and then I come out to the parking garage only to find my car left in shambles. What the hell else wants to go wrong today? I couldn’t sleep. Am I exhausted? You bet your ass I’m exhausted. I went through a grueling half-hour physical altercation, put myself through a hell of a lot more emotional situations then I wanted to, and then to cap it off dealt with my car being destroyed. I want to sleep so bad, but the emotion, the anger, it wouldn’t let me do it. So as Alexis laid in bed in a deep slumber, with multiple uniformed officers outside my home in an attempt to keep my family safe, I headed downstairs from my bedroom and to the front door where two men sat on the front porch. They were officers, off duty, being paid to protect my house. They had volunteered but I couldn’t just let them do it for free. As I took a step out the door, one of them stood up and asked if he could accompany me for protection purposes.
Mike Laszlo: No. Your job is to make sure the girls in this house are safe. After last night, I don’t want anything to happen to them.
Security 1: What about you?
Mike Laszlo: I’ll be fine. I’m headed to the hospital if any of them ask.
He nodded and sat back down as I went to the driveway where my other car, a truck to be more precise, Dodge Ram, black in color, sat waiting to be driven. As I got to the hospital and walked up to the nurses desk I greeted them with a box of donuts, a simple gesture, thanking them for the time and effort they’ve gone through protecting a friend and keeping her as healthy as possible. They greeted me with smiles and thanked me as I set the box down on the counter and headed for Raven’s room. As I walked in I saw that she was awake and staring at the TV until she saw me walk in.
Raven Simpson: Hi.
Slowly I walked in and pulled a chair up to her bedside, taking a seat as she maneuvered in the bed. I looked her over and saw the stitches in her head, and the black and blue marks that riddled her body. In a fit of despair I draped my head, staring at the speckled tile floor beneath me. I didn’t even want to look at her. I knew that what had happened was my fault. The turmoil and the conflict inside was too much. She reached over, flicking her wrist in an act to garner my attention, causing me to look up.
Raven Simpson: Hey, what is it?
Mike Laszlo: This. (Waving my arms over her as if showcasing the situation I was talking about.) It’s my fault.
Raven Simpson: No.
Mike Laszlo: YES! I should have kept you at my house in the guest room. I should have done more to protect you. Now you’re here, beat up, in this bed, because of me.
Raven Simpson: It’s not because of you Mike. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I’m the one who got involved with this guy. I’m the one who tried to back out of a deal, and I deserve this.
I stood up from my chair in shock and looked at her with my eyes squinted a bit and my brow furrowed.
Mike Laszlo: DESERVE THIS!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? Nobody deserves this, I don’t give a damn what you backed out of. This cowardly piece of shit wants to beat up on women, and then wants to make threats at me, even going to the lengths of destroying my car and…
Raven Simpson: Wait, what?
I realized that she had no idea what had happened the night before as I had failed to mention it before my tantrum. Calming down a minute I brushed it off as a minor detail.
Mike Laszlo: Last night at the arena, he came and destroyed my car.
Raven Simpson: How do you know it was him?
Mike Laszlo: I don’t know it was him per say, but I know if not him, it was one of his goons. They left a note inside saying he can get me at any time, any place.
She began to tear up and started in a whimper, apologizing for everything.
Raven Simpson: I…I…I’m so sorry I got you involved. Now you’re in da…danger. Your family is in danger. I can’t believe I let you do this for me. I’m so soooooorry.
She started crying uncontrollably as I walked over and took her by the hand.
Mike Laszlo: Hey…hey…hey stop. You didn’t do anything. You were in need and you came to the one person you thought could help you, and I’m going to do just that. I put myself in this position and now I need to handle it accordingly. Destroying my property isn’t going to persuade me any differently. There are off duty cops watching my family with uniformed officers driving by in random intervals. I’m going to get this son of a bitch, and now, he’s just driving me farther. Now he’s pushing buttons he should have never pushed. If I get my hands on him, it’ll be the worst thing to ever happen to him.
Her crying had turned to light sobbing as she looked on and simply nodded in agreement with what I had said. I set her hand back in her lap and happened to hear the doctor behind me as he walked by. I looked at her as slowly she began to regain her composure.
Mike Laszlo: I’ll see you later, I’m going to go talk to the doctor.
She nodded again as I picked her hand back up and kissed it before allowing her to pull it away. Turning I made a dash for the doctor.
Mike Laszlo: Doc!
He turned his head and saw it was me. He dismissed who he was talking to and waited for me to catch up.
Doctor: Mr. Laszlo, what can I do for you?
Mike Laszlo: I was wondering when Raven would be allowed to be discharged.
Doctor: We ran a few tests like X-ray and MRIs to see the progression of the healing. We’ll look at those results later and a determination will be made then.
Mike Laszlo: Is there any way to put a rush on it? I feel responsible for what happened, and just want to get her in the safest environment possible.
Doctor: I assure you, the hospital is secure.
Mike Laszlo: Yeah…okay. I’ll see you later.
Doctor: Good day.
I turned and walked away bidding farewell to the nurses as I hit the elevator. The doors closed and I was by myself, allowing me to bury myself in guilt once more.
Mike Laszlo: Now she’s stuck here, at least another day. I can’t believe I let this happen. Why the hell can’t I do anything right these days? If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be here. If it weren’t for me, Reynolds wouldn’t be suffering from a concussion. If it weren’t for me I wouldn’t need my damn house under lockdown with guards, patrol units, the whole nine. Why the hell is all of this crap happening to me? I need to fix it. I need to make things better. I need to put an end to this crap once and for all.
As the elevator opens, I walk out to the main exit as the scene fades.\
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It’s funny how things work Spike. The world turns, the hours on the clock quickly pass by one after another, and soon those hours turn to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. All of this time, both in my personal life, and my career, I thought that I was invincible. I thought that no matter what happened, no matter what went wrong, I could fix it. No matter the despair I had been through, the heartache I had felt, I could make it all better. I felt that burden for so long, and in some cases as illustrated, still do to this day.
Now there’s a difference.
Before I thought I had to make it better. Before, I thought it was all on me or bust. Nothing else mattered no matter how much others tried to help…it had to be me. Do you get it? Do you understand the predicament, the stress that can put on a person?
The stress and pressure to prove to the world that you are the best no matter what? Admitting fault was viewed as a weakness. To admit loss was to admit failure and to me for so long, that was unacceptable and downright foolish. I couldn’t accept defeat because my body, my brain wouldn’t allow it.
Things have changed…for the better.
Now I see the light. An epiphany is a funny thing. The revelation to the fact that losing wasn’t a weakness after all; that losing wasn’t a fault was astounding…refreshing. To know that I didn’t have to view losing as a pitfall of despair was a weight lifted off my shoulders of unbearable proportions. Losing isn’t all it’s made out to be. Instead, losing is something valuable, and although it’s viewed as a negative by many, my previous way of thinking included, I now see it for what it truly is…a lesson.
Losing is a lesson, a warning sign of sorts that adaptation is needed. I need to now adapt to what I’ve been doing wrong this whole time, and I need to correct that flaw, which in the end makes the win all that more enjoyable. For now, rather than the win just being a victory over someone, it is also a victory over a fault. It is the correction of an error, the erasing of a flaw that has held me down for so long. To know that it isn’t Mike Laszlo fixing all that is wrong or bust has led me to this light. To know that if I lose, it isn’t the end of the world is a revelation worth basking in. It has formed this entire idea, this theory that I have now passed on in form of spoken word for the last few weeks now, though seemingly it has gone on unnoticed by you.
The theory, this idea that I now live by, says that there is no need for bravado when speaking. There is no need to tell someone they suck, to berate them to the point that they wish to slit their wrists with a razor blade. This new idea has shown me the light, that to speak about someone’s faults is the true weakness of a competitor. So this Monday I won’t be speaking at all. This Monday I will turn that weakness into a strength when rather than speak of your flaws, I exploit them to my benefit. Monday night I take all I have learned from my failures and I cram those lessons down your throat. Monday I show the world what I am made of when I take on the Imperial Champion, the face of this franchise, and I do everything in my power to knock him down and prove my worth. On Sacrifice, I prove that I truly do belong.
Well howdy there pardner.