Post by Mike Laszlo on Jul 27, 2014 20:18:58 GMT
If only…
The scene opens and we see me sitting in a chair in the opposite direction in which I am supposed to do so. With my chest firmly pressed up against the back of the chair, I look up, the gaze of my hardened green eyes set firmly upon the lens of the camera.
If only there was a time in which I hadn’t choked away a big opportunity before in my life.
I shrug my shoulders and arch my eyebrows while saying…
Too late.
I sat still for a moment.
If only there was a place where the incandescent words of a rambling man made some sort of sense to the point where I would actually care…
I shake my head.
There isn’t.
As I sit for a moment and let the thoughts gather in the ever racing scene of my brain, I can’t help but snicker.
If only you knew.
Grasping at the back of the chair, I lean back, my arms extending in front of me as I hear the pop in my shoulders. The aching from an intense workout had gone away with one simple gesture and what a relief it was.
Xavier, you can proclaim a million things this week and half of them might be true. You can call me a million different names and expect each to hurt me, to pierce me like a sharpened blade, but the fact of the matter is, nothing you say matters at this point.
Leaning forward, I release my grip on the chair and drape my hands over top of it, my wrists touching the cold metal.
We can talk the talk Xavier and go back and forth as if we’re playing a game of tennis, but none of it truly matters. I mean, let’s be honest shall we? Everything you have or can say about me has pretty much been said and vice a versa.
You can tell everyone that I have this stigma about me, this rotting decaying smell if you will. They call it choking. We all know what it is. We all know that I have that oh so great reputation, and like any self-respecting competitor, I look to eradicate that nickname from anything to do with me. Who wants to be known like that Cross? Who wants to be the Joe Everyman of this organization? I sure as hell don’t, and once I beat you, come Lineage, that name will be stricken from mine and I will emerge as something so much greater…
I take in a deep breath before uttering those five words.
…the Heir to the Throne.
I stand from the chair and head over to a set of lockers. I then clasp my hands together and put them about eye level on the side of the steel storage containers before resting my forehead against the entanglement of my hands.
Do you know what something like this would mean to me Cross? Do you know what it would be like to step out of the shadow of mediocrity?
You’ve been the Heavyweight Champion. You’ve done so on two different occasions. You meant something in this company for longer than a cup of coffee. You know what it’s like to mean something to so many, even if that all dissipated when you were nailed to a piece of wood by Spike Kane.
You can’t possibly know what it’s like to have this albatross around your neck. You can’t possibly feel the type of pressure that I force upon myself with each and every passing minute of my life to simply one day be able to call myself…
…better.
I turn from the lockers. There’s almost sadness in my eyes; the pain of not accomplishing my goals, of not doing what I set out to do long ago coursing through every vein in my body. In the snap of the fingers though, that sadness transforms into inspiration.
Better than all the rest. Better than Spike Kane, better than Angel, better than Alex Jones, and sure as hell better than you! That’s my goal. That is what I inspire to prove. Winning this, beating you, it’s merely a stepping stone to the ascension that I have promised this entire time. I said I would beat Spike and I did. I said I would move on to the semi-finals and I did. Then came last week where I said I would defeat Renee Pleasant and low and behold…I…DID!
I look away for a moment. There’s a look of disdain on my face before I turn back to the camera with a bit of rage.
Was every bit of it kosher? Did I do things by the book? No. I’m not oblivious to the situation at hand, and I’m not falling for the bullshit that Ana has to say on Twitter or on some Internet Talk Show. Angel seems to have gone out of his way to try and push me through this tournament. He seems to have hand-picked me because he…like the rest of the world…thinks I’ll choke when the time is right. He thinks that when I get to that ring and face him for the Imperial or World title, whatever the hell it’s being called these days, that it’ll be a walk in the park. That painted faced asshole thinks that if in fact I don’t choke that perhaps I’ll bow to him.
I’ve got news for you Angel…I bow to nobody.
I grab hold of that same chair and whip it across the ring with a fury the likes of which haven’t been seen as I turn back to the camera yelling at the top of my lungs.
DO YOU HEAR ME!? I BOW TO NO MAN OR WOMAN!
Seething, the volume comes down a few notches.
So know this Cross. When it comes down to it, there is no Angel. There won’t be an Ana to come down and distract you. Not because they don’t want to, because trust me, they do; but because I don’t need them. I don’t want them. When Lineage comes on live on Pay Per View and the two of us are standing across from one another, I want you to know that hell will freeze over, you’re in for a fight, and when the dust settles, and the flames of hell return to their fiery glory, you will lose and I will once again be able to tell the world and you…that I told you so.
If only you knew…how that would feel.
The scene fades as I storm to the door, leaving the room, slamming the door behind me.
====================
Title: If Only
Location: Rome, Italy
Time: 12:10 PM Local Time
Mike Laszlo: It’s almost here.
I’m sitting in a chair in the hotel room in Rome. We’re here for Lineage, but you already knew that. At this very point in time, I’m here to “express my feelings” to the good doctor who has been helping me through some…how did he put it? “issues”. We sit across from one another, him with his pad, me casually, simply watching his every move.
Dr. Goldman: Indeed it is. This is big for you.
Mike Laszlo: Biggest match to date.
Dr. Goldman: Why do you say that? You’ve had title matches before. This one simply gets you back to that point.
Mike Laszlo: It’s all about timing. I’m going into this match with more momentum then I have ever had before. All those other matches seemed to be more “plug me in for show”.
Dr. Goldman: In essence, you were used as filler.
Mike Laszlo: I hate to admit it…but yes.
Dr. Goldman: At the same time though, you were able to prove something in those matches. You were able to show that you belonged with all others in that ring. You belong in the upper echelon in that company.
I nodded approvingly. He was right. All this time I’ve been looked at as the “other guy” in the match. It was expected of me to help put on a great show for the viewing audience and then, in the end, have someone else win; a more known name win.
Mike Laszlo: Now is my time.
Dr. Goldman: Indeed. Opportunity knocks at your door as we speak and I want you to take it. But enough of that.
Mike Laszlo: What do you mean enough of that?
Dr. Goldman: We’re establishing patterns. When your mother passed, you didn’t confide too much in anyone did you?
Mike Laszlo: Not really. I kind of kept to myself, and I let myself overcome the grief.
Dr. Goldman: What about when you’re uncle gave you the ultimatum?
Mike Laszlo: That was different.
Dr. Goldman: How so?
Mike Laszlo: I had someone to go to.
Dr. Goldman: You didn’t the first time?
I shook my head.
Mike Laszlo: Not the same. Yeah, there was family and what not, but they all were looking at it from the same perspective as me. This time I had my girlfriend, Sara.
Dr. Goldman: And she was there for you?
I nodded affirmatively.
Dr. Goldman: Let’s go back to that scenario.
I closed my eyes and recalled the moment. I walked down the street and made a right hand turn in the sweltering heat of the desert and headed a mile down before making another left. As I came up on the apartment complex where Sara lived, the choices went through my head, followed by the pros and cons of each. I slowly turned into the development and walked up to the door. Before I could even knock, she opened the door and saw the look of depression on my face. She knew that something was up and that it was bothering me to a large extent. She didn’t know what it was yet and offered a long embrace right outside the door.
Dr. Goldman: She really cared about you.
Mike Laszlo: She did. At the time, that is what made the decision really hard.
As she slightly pulled away, she led me around the corner to our little spot where we would go when we wanted to be alone. We sat there on the ground and she pulled me in and held me as if I were a child.
Mike Laszlo: This is so hard.
The word finally left my lips as she allowed me to lift my head. She looked into my eyes and though I struggled with the decision, her soothing blue eyes were enough to calm me, even if just for a second.
Sara: What is it? What’s so hard?
Mike Laszlo: I’ve been given a choice.
Sara: Between what and what?
Mike Laszlo: Homelessness and upheaval.
Sara: What do you mean?
I took a breath and explained the situation to her and she sighed. She then got up and stood over me.
Sara: Stay here and I’ll be right back.
I waited for a few moments as she disappeared around the corner, only to reappear with a smile on her face.
Sara: Well, my parents said you can stay here temporarily.
I smiled a bit. She tried. I shook my head which caused her concern as she sat back down.
Sara: What do you mean no?
Mike Laszlo: My grandparents are coming for a week and they all want my decision then. Going back with them is the only way I have of getting back and I need something permanent, not temporary.
I could see her face filled with sadness. The sorrow and despair were written across her forehead like never before. We were clearly in love. There wasn’t anything that could split us apart…except for this. Holding my hand to her cheek, I brushed her blonde hair behind her ear and kissed her on the forehead.
Mike Laszlo: I don’t have a choice. We can keep this long distance. We’ll get jobs, we’ll fly back and forth. We can make this work.
She pulled her head away and looked down at the ground.
Sara: I guess.
In a reversal of fortunes from earlier, I was now holding her in my arms, stroking her head while whispering in her ear…
Mike Laszlo: It’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay.
The vision in my head was shattered by the sound of Dr. Goldman’s voice.
Dr. Goldman: You guys really cared for one another, huh?
Mike Laszlo: So much so that I went back for her after I signed my first wrestling deal and brought her with me. I rescued her from the purgatory that was what she was living in. I married her, had a child with her, and even after she passed, I took in her sister who was abandoned by their parents.
Dr. Goldman: She clarified things for you from an outside perspective?
Mike Laszlo: Yes.
Dr. Goldman: And now you feel you have that with Alexis?
Mike Laszlo: I didn’t think it would be possible to have that sort of connection with somebody again, but yes.
Dr. Goldman: Interesting.
He flipped the pad over again and started for the door in a surprise ending, just like all of the other visits.
====================
Enough about everyone else, enough about you Xavier.
The camera is fixated on my from down below. I lean on a brick wall, my elbows propping up the rest of my upper body as I rest comfortably with my hands clasped together.
I’m done with what the rest of the world thinks of me. I’m done caring what they call me, or how they look upon what it is I’ve done in this company, in this industry as a whole. It’s not about them and it never should have been. There’s only one person on this planet who has any say so, any input, any criticism on the things I do…and that’s me.
The scene fades as I turn around and jump up on the wall, having a seat as the scene fades back in, now directly in front of me.
For too long I’ve cared about the others Xavier. I’d hear their words and I would strive to be what everyone else wanted and wants me to be. That ideology worked to a degree because I became the best showman this company has ever seen. Any match with me in it was five stars and noteworthy.
My head sunk as I looked down at the cobblestone pathway. I looked up, shaking my head from side to side, a slight bit of anger in the tone of my voice.
That’s not what I wanted.
I raise my hands in the air, one symbolizing the desires of others, the other hand symbolizing my own desires. I draw my own desires behind my back and focus on the hand representing what everyone else wants.
For too long this has been my purpose. I’ve let all the rest go by me in pursuit of some meaningless sense of entertainment.
Drawing that hand back I replace it with the other that represents what I want.
No longer. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still be the entertaining guy, but now there’s more than entertainment on the line. Now there’s a purpose behind every single little thing that I do. That sole purpose is to become the IWF Imperial/World Champion.
To do that I have to beat Xavier Cross.
I have to go on and face Angel and in the end defeat him for the championship.
Only then can I have what I want. I can have the retribution I’ve told everyone I was gunning for. I can be recognized for something so much better than being a choke artist. I can wash my hands of any stigma, kill any foulness that has been associated with my name, and be known simply as the best wrestler walking on this planet today.
If only you knew what that meant…
The scene opens and we see me sitting in a chair in the opposite direction in which I am supposed to do so. With my chest firmly pressed up against the back of the chair, I look up, the gaze of my hardened green eyes set firmly upon the lens of the camera.
If only there was a time in which I hadn’t choked away a big opportunity before in my life.
I shrug my shoulders and arch my eyebrows while saying…
Too late.
I sat still for a moment.
If only there was a place where the incandescent words of a rambling man made some sort of sense to the point where I would actually care…
I shake my head.
There isn’t.
As I sit for a moment and let the thoughts gather in the ever racing scene of my brain, I can’t help but snicker.
If only you knew.
Grasping at the back of the chair, I lean back, my arms extending in front of me as I hear the pop in my shoulders. The aching from an intense workout had gone away with one simple gesture and what a relief it was.
Xavier, you can proclaim a million things this week and half of them might be true. You can call me a million different names and expect each to hurt me, to pierce me like a sharpened blade, but the fact of the matter is, nothing you say matters at this point.
Leaning forward, I release my grip on the chair and drape my hands over top of it, my wrists touching the cold metal.
We can talk the talk Xavier and go back and forth as if we’re playing a game of tennis, but none of it truly matters. I mean, let’s be honest shall we? Everything you have or can say about me has pretty much been said and vice a versa.
You can tell everyone that I have this stigma about me, this rotting decaying smell if you will. They call it choking. We all know what it is. We all know that I have that oh so great reputation, and like any self-respecting competitor, I look to eradicate that nickname from anything to do with me. Who wants to be known like that Cross? Who wants to be the Joe Everyman of this organization? I sure as hell don’t, and once I beat you, come Lineage, that name will be stricken from mine and I will emerge as something so much greater…
I take in a deep breath before uttering those five words.
…the Heir to the Throne.
I stand from the chair and head over to a set of lockers. I then clasp my hands together and put them about eye level on the side of the steel storage containers before resting my forehead against the entanglement of my hands.
Do you know what something like this would mean to me Cross? Do you know what it would be like to step out of the shadow of mediocrity?
You’ve been the Heavyweight Champion. You’ve done so on two different occasions. You meant something in this company for longer than a cup of coffee. You know what it’s like to mean something to so many, even if that all dissipated when you were nailed to a piece of wood by Spike Kane.
You can’t possibly know what it’s like to have this albatross around your neck. You can’t possibly feel the type of pressure that I force upon myself with each and every passing minute of my life to simply one day be able to call myself…
…better.
I turn from the lockers. There’s almost sadness in my eyes; the pain of not accomplishing my goals, of not doing what I set out to do long ago coursing through every vein in my body. In the snap of the fingers though, that sadness transforms into inspiration.
Better than all the rest. Better than Spike Kane, better than Angel, better than Alex Jones, and sure as hell better than you! That’s my goal. That is what I inspire to prove. Winning this, beating you, it’s merely a stepping stone to the ascension that I have promised this entire time. I said I would beat Spike and I did. I said I would move on to the semi-finals and I did. Then came last week where I said I would defeat Renee Pleasant and low and behold…I…DID!
I look away for a moment. There’s a look of disdain on my face before I turn back to the camera with a bit of rage.
Was every bit of it kosher? Did I do things by the book? No. I’m not oblivious to the situation at hand, and I’m not falling for the bullshit that Ana has to say on Twitter or on some Internet Talk Show. Angel seems to have gone out of his way to try and push me through this tournament. He seems to have hand-picked me because he…like the rest of the world…thinks I’ll choke when the time is right. He thinks that when I get to that ring and face him for the Imperial or World title, whatever the hell it’s being called these days, that it’ll be a walk in the park. That painted faced asshole thinks that if in fact I don’t choke that perhaps I’ll bow to him.
I’ve got news for you Angel…I bow to nobody.
I grab hold of that same chair and whip it across the ring with a fury the likes of which haven’t been seen as I turn back to the camera yelling at the top of my lungs.
DO YOU HEAR ME!? I BOW TO NO MAN OR WOMAN!
Seething, the volume comes down a few notches.
So know this Cross. When it comes down to it, there is no Angel. There won’t be an Ana to come down and distract you. Not because they don’t want to, because trust me, they do; but because I don’t need them. I don’t want them. When Lineage comes on live on Pay Per View and the two of us are standing across from one another, I want you to know that hell will freeze over, you’re in for a fight, and when the dust settles, and the flames of hell return to their fiery glory, you will lose and I will once again be able to tell the world and you…that I told you so.
If only you knew…how that would feel.
The scene fades as I storm to the door, leaving the room, slamming the door behind me.
====================
Title: If Only
Location: Rome, Italy
Time: 12:10 PM Local Time
Mike Laszlo: It’s almost here.
I’m sitting in a chair in the hotel room in Rome. We’re here for Lineage, but you already knew that. At this very point in time, I’m here to “express my feelings” to the good doctor who has been helping me through some…how did he put it? “issues”. We sit across from one another, him with his pad, me casually, simply watching his every move.
Dr. Goldman: Indeed it is. This is big for you.
Mike Laszlo: Biggest match to date.
Dr. Goldman: Why do you say that? You’ve had title matches before. This one simply gets you back to that point.
Mike Laszlo: It’s all about timing. I’m going into this match with more momentum then I have ever had before. All those other matches seemed to be more “plug me in for show”.
Dr. Goldman: In essence, you were used as filler.
Mike Laszlo: I hate to admit it…but yes.
Dr. Goldman: At the same time though, you were able to prove something in those matches. You were able to show that you belonged with all others in that ring. You belong in the upper echelon in that company.
I nodded approvingly. He was right. All this time I’ve been looked at as the “other guy” in the match. It was expected of me to help put on a great show for the viewing audience and then, in the end, have someone else win; a more known name win.
Mike Laszlo: Now is my time.
Dr. Goldman: Indeed. Opportunity knocks at your door as we speak and I want you to take it. But enough of that.
Mike Laszlo: What do you mean enough of that?
Dr. Goldman: We’re establishing patterns. When your mother passed, you didn’t confide too much in anyone did you?
Mike Laszlo: Not really. I kind of kept to myself, and I let myself overcome the grief.
Dr. Goldman: What about when you’re uncle gave you the ultimatum?
Mike Laszlo: That was different.
Dr. Goldman: How so?
Mike Laszlo: I had someone to go to.
Dr. Goldman: You didn’t the first time?
I shook my head.
Mike Laszlo: Not the same. Yeah, there was family and what not, but they all were looking at it from the same perspective as me. This time I had my girlfriend, Sara.
Dr. Goldman: And she was there for you?
I nodded affirmatively.
Dr. Goldman: Let’s go back to that scenario.
I closed my eyes and recalled the moment. I walked down the street and made a right hand turn in the sweltering heat of the desert and headed a mile down before making another left. As I came up on the apartment complex where Sara lived, the choices went through my head, followed by the pros and cons of each. I slowly turned into the development and walked up to the door. Before I could even knock, she opened the door and saw the look of depression on my face. She knew that something was up and that it was bothering me to a large extent. She didn’t know what it was yet and offered a long embrace right outside the door.
Dr. Goldman: She really cared about you.
Mike Laszlo: She did. At the time, that is what made the decision really hard.
As she slightly pulled away, she led me around the corner to our little spot where we would go when we wanted to be alone. We sat there on the ground and she pulled me in and held me as if I were a child.
Mike Laszlo: This is so hard.
The word finally left my lips as she allowed me to lift my head. She looked into my eyes and though I struggled with the decision, her soothing blue eyes were enough to calm me, even if just for a second.
Sara: What is it? What’s so hard?
Mike Laszlo: I’ve been given a choice.
Sara: Between what and what?
Mike Laszlo: Homelessness and upheaval.
Sara: What do you mean?
I took a breath and explained the situation to her and she sighed. She then got up and stood over me.
Sara: Stay here and I’ll be right back.
I waited for a few moments as she disappeared around the corner, only to reappear with a smile on her face.
Sara: Well, my parents said you can stay here temporarily.
I smiled a bit. She tried. I shook my head which caused her concern as she sat back down.
Sara: What do you mean no?
Mike Laszlo: My grandparents are coming for a week and they all want my decision then. Going back with them is the only way I have of getting back and I need something permanent, not temporary.
I could see her face filled with sadness. The sorrow and despair were written across her forehead like never before. We were clearly in love. There wasn’t anything that could split us apart…except for this. Holding my hand to her cheek, I brushed her blonde hair behind her ear and kissed her on the forehead.
Mike Laszlo: I don’t have a choice. We can keep this long distance. We’ll get jobs, we’ll fly back and forth. We can make this work.
She pulled her head away and looked down at the ground.
Sara: I guess.
In a reversal of fortunes from earlier, I was now holding her in my arms, stroking her head while whispering in her ear…
Mike Laszlo: It’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay.
The vision in my head was shattered by the sound of Dr. Goldman’s voice.
Dr. Goldman: You guys really cared for one another, huh?
Mike Laszlo: So much so that I went back for her after I signed my first wrestling deal and brought her with me. I rescued her from the purgatory that was what she was living in. I married her, had a child with her, and even after she passed, I took in her sister who was abandoned by their parents.
Dr. Goldman: She clarified things for you from an outside perspective?
Mike Laszlo: Yes.
Dr. Goldman: And now you feel you have that with Alexis?
Mike Laszlo: I didn’t think it would be possible to have that sort of connection with somebody again, but yes.
Dr. Goldman: Interesting.
He flipped the pad over again and started for the door in a surprise ending, just like all of the other visits.
====================
Enough about everyone else, enough about you Xavier.
The camera is fixated on my from down below. I lean on a brick wall, my elbows propping up the rest of my upper body as I rest comfortably with my hands clasped together.
I’m done with what the rest of the world thinks of me. I’m done caring what they call me, or how they look upon what it is I’ve done in this company, in this industry as a whole. It’s not about them and it never should have been. There’s only one person on this planet who has any say so, any input, any criticism on the things I do…and that’s me.
The scene fades as I turn around and jump up on the wall, having a seat as the scene fades back in, now directly in front of me.
For too long I’ve cared about the others Xavier. I’d hear their words and I would strive to be what everyone else wanted and wants me to be. That ideology worked to a degree because I became the best showman this company has ever seen. Any match with me in it was five stars and noteworthy.
My head sunk as I looked down at the cobblestone pathway. I looked up, shaking my head from side to side, a slight bit of anger in the tone of my voice.
That’s not what I wanted.
I raise my hands in the air, one symbolizing the desires of others, the other hand symbolizing my own desires. I draw my own desires behind my back and focus on the hand representing what everyone else wants.
For too long this has been my purpose. I’ve let all the rest go by me in pursuit of some meaningless sense of entertainment.
Drawing that hand back I replace it with the other that represents what I want.
No longer. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still be the entertaining guy, but now there’s more than entertainment on the line. Now there’s a purpose behind every single little thing that I do. That sole purpose is to become the IWF Imperial/World Champion.
To do that I have to beat Xavier Cross.
I have to go on and face Angel and in the end defeat him for the championship.
Only then can I have what I want. I can have the retribution I’ve told everyone I was gunning for. I can be recognized for something so much better than being a choke artist. I can wash my hands of any stigma, kill any foulness that has been associated with my name, and be known simply as the best wrestler walking on this planet today.
If only you knew what that meant…
Well howdy there pardner.