Post by Mike Laszlo on Mar 23, 2014 23:06:05 GMT
So what is there left to be said about the Roulette Match?
What can be said that I or someone else hasn’t spit out over the last week?
I can come out and say that I was in the NCW Riot, the last year in which it was instituted. Same set of circumstances but nobody cares. We all know that it is one big huge numbers game, and that the later your draw, the more favorable your outcome. Does it guarantee success? Absolutely not. You still have to bust your ass off in that ring.
The numerous wrestlers in this match all have their different levels of success, some at one time were the best this company had to offer. Others have had similar success in other places. Then there’s the few of you who are just plain green as shit, walking into the unknown, just hoping and praying that you don’t go out there and embarrass yourself.
We’ve heard everyone under the sun mention what winning would mean to them. We’ve heard that it would skyrocket their career to places they have never seen, or in some cases, revive the career they seemed to be on the fringe of losing.
I admire the competitive spirit in this match. All of you trying so hard to earn a spot, which around here has been hard to do no matter how good you are, because you’re not sucking on certain parts of Simon or Roberto or even Angel to a lesser extent. I guess if anyone should have this shot, it’s Amber Richards, or perhaps Hannah Reed?
Okay, okay, I digress. None of you are under the proverbial desk handing out favors in an effort to move up in the world. That in and of itself is commendable. You scratch and claw your ways toward that bright beacon of hope until your fingers start to bleed and right when you get to the top there will only be one who can win.
The logic is simply this, if I’m in, I win. If I’m not and you face me at the main event of the Anniversary Pay Per View, then I welcome you. I welcome the challenge either way. I welcome the fact that I can prove against the majority of the roster that I am as I profess myself to be.
So the real question of will he or won’t he is a wild card in itself here. Will you have to take on the anger and the violence of a pissed off Mike Laszlo or will you be safe from a rampage like nobody has seen before as I watch it all happen from a monitor in the back? Trust me when I look into this camera, and essentially into the eyes of all looking on and say I’d much rather be the cool, calm, collected guy in the back with an Imperial Title draped over my shoulder.
I said before that there were two opportunities in front of me and the outcome would decide itself. I was just going along for the ride. That doesn’t mean that I won’t steer or lean one way or another. My desire is the Imperial Title. Don’t get me wrong, winning the first ever Roulette Match is a huge honor indeed, but it isn’t what I want to do, but it will be done if necessary.
Call it arrogance, cockiness, or whatever, the fact is that when I have something to say I will say it. If I think you’re an idiot, I will tell you so. If I think you have no chance in hell of beating me should I lose the ladder match, I’ll tell you.
I will tell you and then I will show you and there’s not a damn thing that any of the other twenty-nine men in this match can do about it.
=====================
Title: Coping
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 6:05 AM Local Time
I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned and tossed some more. So rather than sleep, despite the fact that I could use the rest, I got up and left the house. When I have an issue like the one I am currently experiencing, I go to the gym. That’s where the scene fades in and I’m seen beating the hell out of a heavy bag with lefts and rights followed by kicks. I grunted and threw more strikes, some of which felt powerful enough to knock the bag right out of the ceiling.
I didn’t notice the door open behind me or the fact that Ray had walked in behind me. He walks over and taps me on the shoulder, nearly taking a right hand to the face. He ducked out of the way, surprisingly active this early in the morning.
Ray Gross: What the hell dude?
I stood there for a moment and was breathing heavy. The anger in my eyes was apparent as he backed down. He set down his bag and walked around to the opposite side of the bag, holding it as I laid into it once again.
Ray Gross: Is this about Alexis?
My answer was made clear with even harder shots to the bag. He closed his eyes momentarily and sighed before addressing the situation.
Ray Gross: Mike, she’s not gone forever. She’ll be back. She just needs her space.
I started kicking the bag and then back to punching, more rapid paced than any other set before suddenly stopping and ripping the gloves off and throwing them to the ground.
Mike Laszlo: That’s not what this is about. I understand that…I GET IT!
He steadies the bag and steps out from behind it, following me as I walk toward the locker bench in my office and have a seat, taking a sip of my Gatorade. I let the bottle dangle in my hand before it slips out and hits the floor. He steps in and closes the door behind him in case someone else decides to walk in.
Ray Gross: If you get that, then what is it?
Mike Laszlo: It’s the fact that right now I failed to protect her.
Ray Gross: You couldn’t stop the abduction.
Mike Laszlo: It’s not even the abduction. It’s this crap with the doctor. He cost an arm and a leg like most of these idiot quacks, and he didn’t even do anything. He caused her to run off because he wouldn’t listen to me and take things slow. He went from one bad moment to the next and even though I tried to stop him, I couldn’t.
Ray Gross: That’s not on you bro. That’s on him.
Mike Laszlo: It’s on me.
Ray Gross: How so?
Mike Laszlo: I told her it would all be okay. I told her that this would help and what does it really do? It makes things worse.
Ray Gross: Nobody could have seen that she was THAT fragile. You even said she was coming out of her shell a little bit.
There’s a deep sigh as I regain some composure, rubbing my hands over my face as I look up at the ceiling before turning my attention to him.
Mike Laszlo: It seemed that way. She had the talk with Kristy and came out and laid with me on the couch. She even apologized to me for being so distant.
Ray Gross: Maybe she gave it a try but it was too much. Only time will tell.
Mike Laszlo: Yeah, I guess. I’m going for a walk.
That said the scene fades as I walk out of the room and head out of the building into the sunlight outside.
====================
I don’t know what to say.
I’m here all alone on a day that’s supposed to mean something to me.
That’s right, this Monday, is my birthday. This day is supposed to be the day of celebration. This is supposed to be a day of joy and happiness. Instead, I’m pressed and worried. I am pressed because I have this huge match at the Pay Per View, a Ladder Match for the Imperial Title. If I lose, I have another shot at greatness with the Roulette Match.
Both have admirable rewards, both will be a tough test.
My girlfriend may or may not be there. Judging by her rough week, odds are, she won’t be. So I have to go it alone. Yes I’ll have the support of the fans but the one I want the support of the most won’t be there. The girl of my dreams who has the smile that warms my heart, won’t be warming anything and it becomes another distraction, another obstacle to overcome.
So the jest of things is really simple.
I have something the rest of you don’t and deep inside you’re jealous of that.
None of you in either match should think that the other will distract me.
My sole purpose will be to walk into High Stakes in Phoenix and walk out as the Imperial Champion. Should I not, I will quickly focus on the Roulette and I will have absolutely no intent on losing that match. I will walk out of High Stakes a winner, and nothing you say or do will change that prediction from becoming a reality.
What can be said that I or someone else hasn’t spit out over the last week?
I can come out and say that I was in the NCW Riot, the last year in which it was instituted. Same set of circumstances but nobody cares. We all know that it is one big huge numbers game, and that the later your draw, the more favorable your outcome. Does it guarantee success? Absolutely not. You still have to bust your ass off in that ring.
The numerous wrestlers in this match all have their different levels of success, some at one time were the best this company had to offer. Others have had similar success in other places. Then there’s the few of you who are just plain green as shit, walking into the unknown, just hoping and praying that you don’t go out there and embarrass yourself.
We’ve heard everyone under the sun mention what winning would mean to them. We’ve heard that it would skyrocket their career to places they have never seen, or in some cases, revive the career they seemed to be on the fringe of losing.
I admire the competitive spirit in this match. All of you trying so hard to earn a spot, which around here has been hard to do no matter how good you are, because you’re not sucking on certain parts of Simon or Roberto or even Angel to a lesser extent. I guess if anyone should have this shot, it’s Amber Richards, or perhaps Hannah Reed?
Okay, okay, I digress. None of you are under the proverbial desk handing out favors in an effort to move up in the world. That in and of itself is commendable. You scratch and claw your ways toward that bright beacon of hope until your fingers start to bleed and right when you get to the top there will only be one who can win.
The logic is simply this, if I’m in, I win. If I’m not and you face me at the main event of the Anniversary Pay Per View, then I welcome you. I welcome the challenge either way. I welcome the fact that I can prove against the majority of the roster that I am as I profess myself to be.
So the real question of will he or won’t he is a wild card in itself here. Will you have to take on the anger and the violence of a pissed off Mike Laszlo or will you be safe from a rampage like nobody has seen before as I watch it all happen from a monitor in the back? Trust me when I look into this camera, and essentially into the eyes of all looking on and say I’d much rather be the cool, calm, collected guy in the back with an Imperial Title draped over my shoulder.
I said before that there were two opportunities in front of me and the outcome would decide itself. I was just going along for the ride. That doesn’t mean that I won’t steer or lean one way or another. My desire is the Imperial Title. Don’t get me wrong, winning the first ever Roulette Match is a huge honor indeed, but it isn’t what I want to do, but it will be done if necessary.
Call it arrogance, cockiness, or whatever, the fact is that when I have something to say I will say it. If I think you’re an idiot, I will tell you so. If I think you have no chance in hell of beating me should I lose the ladder match, I’ll tell you.
I will tell you and then I will show you and there’s not a damn thing that any of the other twenty-nine men in this match can do about it.
=====================
Title: Coping
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 6:05 AM Local Time
I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned and tossed some more. So rather than sleep, despite the fact that I could use the rest, I got up and left the house. When I have an issue like the one I am currently experiencing, I go to the gym. That’s where the scene fades in and I’m seen beating the hell out of a heavy bag with lefts and rights followed by kicks. I grunted and threw more strikes, some of which felt powerful enough to knock the bag right out of the ceiling.
I didn’t notice the door open behind me or the fact that Ray had walked in behind me. He walks over and taps me on the shoulder, nearly taking a right hand to the face. He ducked out of the way, surprisingly active this early in the morning.
Ray Gross: What the hell dude?
I stood there for a moment and was breathing heavy. The anger in my eyes was apparent as he backed down. He set down his bag and walked around to the opposite side of the bag, holding it as I laid into it once again.
Ray Gross: Is this about Alexis?
My answer was made clear with even harder shots to the bag. He closed his eyes momentarily and sighed before addressing the situation.
Ray Gross: Mike, she’s not gone forever. She’ll be back. She just needs her space.
I started kicking the bag and then back to punching, more rapid paced than any other set before suddenly stopping and ripping the gloves off and throwing them to the ground.
Mike Laszlo: That’s not what this is about. I understand that…I GET IT!
He steadies the bag and steps out from behind it, following me as I walk toward the locker bench in my office and have a seat, taking a sip of my Gatorade. I let the bottle dangle in my hand before it slips out and hits the floor. He steps in and closes the door behind him in case someone else decides to walk in.
Ray Gross: If you get that, then what is it?
Mike Laszlo: It’s the fact that right now I failed to protect her.
Ray Gross: You couldn’t stop the abduction.
Mike Laszlo: It’s not even the abduction. It’s this crap with the doctor. He cost an arm and a leg like most of these idiot quacks, and he didn’t even do anything. He caused her to run off because he wouldn’t listen to me and take things slow. He went from one bad moment to the next and even though I tried to stop him, I couldn’t.
Ray Gross: That’s not on you bro. That’s on him.
Mike Laszlo: It’s on me.
Ray Gross: How so?
Mike Laszlo: I told her it would all be okay. I told her that this would help and what does it really do? It makes things worse.
Ray Gross: Nobody could have seen that she was THAT fragile. You even said she was coming out of her shell a little bit.
There’s a deep sigh as I regain some composure, rubbing my hands over my face as I look up at the ceiling before turning my attention to him.
Mike Laszlo: It seemed that way. She had the talk with Kristy and came out and laid with me on the couch. She even apologized to me for being so distant.
Ray Gross: Maybe she gave it a try but it was too much. Only time will tell.
Mike Laszlo: Yeah, I guess. I’m going for a walk.
That said the scene fades as I walk out of the room and head out of the building into the sunlight outside.
====================
I don’t know what to say.
I’m here all alone on a day that’s supposed to mean something to me.
That’s right, this Monday, is my birthday. This day is supposed to be the day of celebration. This is supposed to be a day of joy and happiness. Instead, I’m pressed and worried. I am pressed because I have this huge match at the Pay Per View, a Ladder Match for the Imperial Title. If I lose, I have another shot at greatness with the Roulette Match.
Both have admirable rewards, both will be a tough test.
My girlfriend may or may not be there. Judging by her rough week, odds are, she won’t be. So I have to go it alone. Yes I’ll have the support of the fans but the one I want the support of the most won’t be there. The girl of my dreams who has the smile that warms my heart, won’t be warming anything and it becomes another distraction, another obstacle to overcome.
So the jest of things is really simple.
I have something the rest of you don’t and deep inside you’re jealous of that.
None of you in either match should think that the other will distract me.
My sole purpose will be to walk into High Stakes in Phoenix and walk out as the Imperial Champion. Should I not, I will quickly focus on the Roulette and I will have absolutely no intent on losing that match. I will walk out of High Stakes a winner, and nothing you say or do will change that prediction from becoming a reality.
Well howdy there pardner.