Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Jun 15, 2013 7:00:25 GMT
There’s something about the idea of being the first in a title’s lineage that appeals to everyone in this profession. The idea of being known as the first, the progenitor…that everyone after you has to measure up to the standard YOU set. It’s an intoxicating concept. Whoever emerges victorious has to set a standard of performance for others to follow for years to come. Lance Ryan. Brad Kane. The Holland Brothers…Zelda Knite. They set the standard for the titles they held, they set the bar for what being a champion meant…and now one of us has that chance. We have a chance to elevate our name into legend.
Some of us will say that their name is already there. And they very well might be right. But as I’ve had to learn, painfully, just because you were someone in another company, in another life, that doesn’t mean a damn thing for your status here and now. We don’t coast on reputation, we earn it in that ring, week in and week out. Every loss and every win shapes who we are the next week. When I lose, I don’t just shrug it off and move on. I’m in the gym, training, working harder, trying to be BETTER. I can’t afford to sit back, because that’s getting me nowhere.
Mike Laszlo took no time at all to crow about how incredibly superior he was after Sacrifice. And that’s what he does. He preens and he struts when he wins, and he preens and he struts when he loses. Because it doesn’t matter to him. No matter what, he’s still the best. Mike thinks that he just tells it like it is, that people don’t like him because they’re not comfortable with someone standing up and saying the truth. He has this vision in his mind of himself as the savior of professional wrestling, the most electrifying man in the business…but in reality, nobody actually cares.
And that’s fine for him. So he says. The fans don’t matter. Know what, punk? The fans matter more than your ass does, that’s for sure. If Mike Laszlo walked out the door tomorrow, nobody would shed a tear. That might sound harsh, but it’s a fact. None of us are bigger than the company. Even the champions are still representatives of it. We reflect on the company whose titles we hold…and as such, there are some things you just can’t do. There are some people on this roster that Will Washington would step back into the ring to prevent from holding the title we’re going to go to war over, and he knows it. Not going to name names…just putting it out there.
Mike, you talk about being the first Heavyweight Champion all the time. You won’t shut up about it. But do you know what that really means? No, shut up. Think about it. And give me your answer when you’ve actually put more than three seconds into it. Do you know what it means to be a champion? You certainly know what it means to be a titleholder. But do you understand the responsibilities of being a champion? You’re held to a higher standard, not just in the ring but in life. You have to be more than just a sneering jackass who cloaks his utter lack of respect or tact in the flimsy veneer of “telling it like it is.” I’ve heard that phrase used to justify the behaviors of selfish men who knew they had no real justification time and time again…
What makes you different, Mike?
I know what sets you apart from the man you teamed with last week. I can actually respect what he’s trying to do. Xavier Cross is a man with a checkered history, and that’s just within his wrestling career. But everything I saw in that ring, every moment was a man trying to win respect and acceptance. I know what that’s like. And I want you to succeed, Cross. Just not here. Not now. Not with this opportunity in front of us...not with this chance before me.
But…as much as I respect what Cross says he wants to do, and acts like he’s doing…he’s also doing the same thing that so many people that have gone up against me have done. He’s questioning who I am. Admittedly, most of those people didn’t go on to praise me for being who I am, but they still asked me if I was doing the best thing for my career. And you know what? I don’t know. I don’t know if, in a strict achievement sense, I’m doing the smart thing. But I do know that I’m doing the right thing.
And at the end of the day, there’s no replacement for that. No matter how many titles you win, no matter how many accolades you receive, you can’t buy integrity. It’s not something you just choose. It’s a life you have to live, a path you walk every day of your life. It’s not the easy road, but it’s the one I walk. If we all took the easy path in life, nothing revolutionary would ever come about. John F. Kennedy said that we chose to go to the moon not because it was easy, but because it was hard. I choose to ignore those shortcuts to glory for that same reason. I don’t WANT the easy path. I want to know that I earned everything I have. With my blood…my sweat…my tears. And not just for me. For you. And for them.
I will give everything to be Heavyweight Champion. Because the people deserve better.
We open on Andrew Jacobsen in the ring of a training facility with a strangely dressed individual, clad in green and black and wearing facepaint to match. Jacobsen circles with the young man, shooting in for a lock-up. The young man struggles, but pulls Jacobsen into a standing wristlock. Andrew reverses into a tight hammerlock, wrenching the hold as he tries to escape. Danielle Chase enters the room, looking around, and spots him. She rolls her eyes, marching over as Andrew lifts the young man for a hammerlock back suplex. She calls out as he rolls to his feet.
”Andrew! We need to talk!”
He looks over, blinking as he registers her presence, and the young gentleman shakes the cobwebs out as Andrew turns to face Danielle fully.
”I’m a little busy, Dani—WHOA!”
He yelps as his opponent hooks his leg and sweeps him into a schoolboy roll-up. The trainer drops down, counting Andrew’s shoulders down to the mat. He gets to a two count before Andrew powers out. The facepainted young man springs to his feet, striking a cheesy pose and beginning to boast.
”Aha! You see, citizen, none can stand before the awesome might of Thunder Sid! Justice will pre—“
Andrew interrupts his monologue with a crushing Lights Out superkick, shaking his head, and drops down, hooking both legs. The three count is academic, and Andrew walks over to the ropes, vaulting over and landing on his feet in front of Danielle. He runs a hand through his hair, seeming to be in pretty good condition. Thunder Sid calls out weakly from the ring.
”Best of twenty-one? Ow, my jaw of justice…”
His head slumps back to the canvas. Andrew ignores him, paying attention to Chase.
”What’s up?”
Chase plants her hands on her hips, looking up at him disapprovingly.
”We were supposed to have lunch today at 12:30, Andrew. To discuss some business matters? Where were you? I spent forty-five minutes at Applebee’s because you requested it, waiting for you and feeling like a stooge when you stood me up. Here I am, two hours later, and you’re right where I thought you’d be. What’s your explanation? And it had better be a damn good one.”
Andrew pauses, sighing, and rubs the bridge of his nose. He looks away in embarrassment.
”I, uh…I guess I got on autopilot after Sacrifice. I got so worked up about losing to Laszlo and Cross that…”
Chase shakes her head, rolling her eyes and turning away from him. She rubs her temples, sighing as she looks down with her eyes closed.
”I can’t believe you. You know, normal people don’t just turtle up after a setback and bury themselves in practice. They talk about things. You know, with words?”
Andrew throws his hands up in exasperation, an incredulous look on his face.
”Look, I’m sorry. Let’s have dinner instead. I’ll buy. You pick the place. I’m sorry, I just…I get carried away! You know that!”
Chase turns around, frustrated, and looks up at Andrew, trying very hard not to lecture him as she speaks.
”That’s the PROBLEM, Andy. I don’t want you to just brush it off as ‘oh, it happens.’ I want you to get better. What if this were a press event? Or a signing? Or a Make-A-Wish appointment? Would you have missed that?”
Andrew shakes his head, confused by the question. Thunder Sid rolls out of the ring behind him, holding his jaw as he drops to the floor.
”No, of course not. I’d be letting everyone down if I missed one of those. Why would you ask that kind of…”
He trails off as he realizes what he’s saying. Danielle nods, biting her lower lip, and forces herself to maintain her composure as she straightens her outfit.
”I…I see. Well, good to know your priorities. I won’t interrupt you, Andrew. Go back to your work. I’ve got some things I need to take care of at the office.”
She spins on her heel and walks towards the door quickly, movements stiff and gaze fixed straight ahead. Andrew begins walking after her.
”Danielle…I didn’t mean it like that! I just…wait!”
He steps past Thunder Sid, who grabs at his ankle to prevent him from leaving. Without a second thought, Andrew twirls around, grabs him by the scruff of the neck, and rolls him into the ring before continuing after Chase, who throws the door wide and walks right on out. Thunder Sid watches him go, a somewhat sullen and hurt expression on his face. The trainer shakes his head, kneeling down and watching them go.
”Face it, kid. You’re small fry. He’s got more important things to take care of. Now get up and let’s get back to work on those transition holds.”
Dejected, the young man stands up and brushes himself off, posing across from the trainer. Andrew runs out the door, still in his gear, as we fade to black.
Some of us will say that their name is already there. And they very well might be right. But as I’ve had to learn, painfully, just because you were someone in another company, in another life, that doesn’t mean a damn thing for your status here and now. We don’t coast on reputation, we earn it in that ring, week in and week out. Every loss and every win shapes who we are the next week. When I lose, I don’t just shrug it off and move on. I’m in the gym, training, working harder, trying to be BETTER. I can’t afford to sit back, because that’s getting me nowhere.
Mike Laszlo took no time at all to crow about how incredibly superior he was after Sacrifice. And that’s what he does. He preens and he struts when he wins, and he preens and he struts when he loses. Because it doesn’t matter to him. No matter what, he’s still the best. Mike thinks that he just tells it like it is, that people don’t like him because they’re not comfortable with someone standing up and saying the truth. He has this vision in his mind of himself as the savior of professional wrestling, the most electrifying man in the business…but in reality, nobody actually cares.
And that’s fine for him. So he says. The fans don’t matter. Know what, punk? The fans matter more than your ass does, that’s for sure. If Mike Laszlo walked out the door tomorrow, nobody would shed a tear. That might sound harsh, but it’s a fact. None of us are bigger than the company. Even the champions are still representatives of it. We reflect on the company whose titles we hold…and as such, there are some things you just can’t do. There are some people on this roster that Will Washington would step back into the ring to prevent from holding the title we’re going to go to war over, and he knows it. Not going to name names…just putting it out there.
Mike, you talk about being the first Heavyweight Champion all the time. You won’t shut up about it. But do you know what that really means? No, shut up. Think about it. And give me your answer when you’ve actually put more than three seconds into it. Do you know what it means to be a champion? You certainly know what it means to be a titleholder. But do you understand the responsibilities of being a champion? You’re held to a higher standard, not just in the ring but in life. You have to be more than just a sneering jackass who cloaks his utter lack of respect or tact in the flimsy veneer of “telling it like it is.” I’ve heard that phrase used to justify the behaviors of selfish men who knew they had no real justification time and time again…
What makes you different, Mike?
I know what sets you apart from the man you teamed with last week. I can actually respect what he’s trying to do. Xavier Cross is a man with a checkered history, and that’s just within his wrestling career. But everything I saw in that ring, every moment was a man trying to win respect and acceptance. I know what that’s like. And I want you to succeed, Cross. Just not here. Not now. Not with this opportunity in front of us...not with this chance before me.
But…as much as I respect what Cross says he wants to do, and acts like he’s doing…he’s also doing the same thing that so many people that have gone up against me have done. He’s questioning who I am. Admittedly, most of those people didn’t go on to praise me for being who I am, but they still asked me if I was doing the best thing for my career. And you know what? I don’t know. I don’t know if, in a strict achievement sense, I’m doing the smart thing. But I do know that I’m doing the right thing.
And at the end of the day, there’s no replacement for that. No matter how many titles you win, no matter how many accolades you receive, you can’t buy integrity. It’s not something you just choose. It’s a life you have to live, a path you walk every day of your life. It’s not the easy road, but it’s the one I walk. If we all took the easy path in life, nothing revolutionary would ever come about. John F. Kennedy said that we chose to go to the moon not because it was easy, but because it was hard. I choose to ignore those shortcuts to glory for that same reason. I don’t WANT the easy path. I want to know that I earned everything I have. With my blood…my sweat…my tears. And not just for me. For you. And for them.
I will give everything to be Heavyweight Champion. Because the people deserve better.
We open on Andrew Jacobsen in the ring of a training facility with a strangely dressed individual, clad in green and black and wearing facepaint to match. Jacobsen circles with the young man, shooting in for a lock-up. The young man struggles, but pulls Jacobsen into a standing wristlock. Andrew reverses into a tight hammerlock, wrenching the hold as he tries to escape. Danielle Chase enters the room, looking around, and spots him. She rolls her eyes, marching over as Andrew lifts the young man for a hammerlock back suplex. She calls out as he rolls to his feet.
”Andrew! We need to talk!”
He looks over, blinking as he registers her presence, and the young gentleman shakes the cobwebs out as Andrew turns to face Danielle fully.
”I’m a little busy, Dani—WHOA!”
He yelps as his opponent hooks his leg and sweeps him into a schoolboy roll-up. The trainer drops down, counting Andrew’s shoulders down to the mat. He gets to a two count before Andrew powers out. The facepainted young man springs to his feet, striking a cheesy pose and beginning to boast.
”Aha! You see, citizen, none can stand before the awesome might of Thunder Sid! Justice will pre—“
Andrew interrupts his monologue with a crushing Lights Out superkick, shaking his head, and drops down, hooking both legs. The three count is academic, and Andrew walks over to the ropes, vaulting over and landing on his feet in front of Danielle. He runs a hand through his hair, seeming to be in pretty good condition. Thunder Sid calls out weakly from the ring.
”Best of twenty-one? Ow, my jaw of justice…”
His head slumps back to the canvas. Andrew ignores him, paying attention to Chase.
”What’s up?”
Chase plants her hands on her hips, looking up at him disapprovingly.
”We were supposed to have lunch today at 12:30, Andrew. To discuss some business matters? Where were you? I spent forty-five minutes at Applebee’s because you requested it, waiting for you and feeling like a stooge when you stood me up. Here I am, two hours later, and you’re right where I thought you’d be. What’s your explanation? And it had better be a damn good one.”
Andrew pauses, sighing, and rubs the bridge of his nose. He looks away in embarrassment.
”I, uh…I guess I got on autopilot after Sacrifice. I got so worked up about losing to Laszlo and Cross that…”
Chase shakes her head, rolling her eyes and turning away from him. She rubs her temples, sighing as she looks down with her eyes closed.
”I can’t believe you. You know, normal people don’t just turtle up after a setback and bury themselves in practice. They talk about things. You know, with words?”
Andrew throws his hands up in exasperation, an incredulous look on his face.
”Look, I’m sorry. Let’s have dinner instead. I’ll buy. You pick the place. I’m sorry, I just…I get carried away! You know that!”
Chase turns around, frustrated, and looks up at Andrew, trying very hard not to lecture him as she speaks.
”That’s the PROBLEM, Andy. I don’t want you to just brush it off as ‘oh, it happens.’ I want you to get better. What if this were a press event? Or a signing? Or a Make-A-Wish appointment? Would you have missed that?”
Andrew shakes his head, confused by the question. Thunder Sid rolls out of the ring behind him, holding his jaw as he drops to the floor.
”No, of course not. I’d be letting everyone down if I missed one of those. Why would you ask that kind of…”
He trails off as he realizes what he’s saying. Danielle nods, biting her lower lip, and forces herself to maintain her composure as she straightens her outfit.
”I…I see. Well, good to know your priorities. I won’t interrupt you, Andrew. Go back to your work. I’ve got some things I need to take care of at the office.”
She spins on her heel and walks towards the door quickly, movements stiff and gaze fixed straight ahead. Andrew begins walking after her.
”Danielle…I didn’t mean it like that! I just…wait!”
He steps past Thunder Sid, who grabs at his ankle to prevent him from leaving. Without a second thought, Andrew twirls around, grabs him by the scruff of the neck, and rolls him into the ring before continuing after Chase, who throws the door wide and walks right on out. Thunder Sid watches him go, a somewhat sullen and hurt expression on his face. The trainer shakes his head, kneeling down and watching them go.
”Face it, kid. You’re small fry. He’s got more important things to take care of. Now get up and let’s get back to work on those transition holds.”
Dejected, the young man stands up and brushes himself off, posing across from the trainer. Andrew runs out the door, still in his gear, as we fade to black.
Well howdy there pardner.