Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2015 14:10:23 GMT
“There are two kinds of pride, both good and bad. 'Good pride' represents our dignity and self-respect. 'Bad pride' is the deadly sin of superiority that reeks of conceit and arrogance.”
As Nighthawk pulls into the parking lot of a Motel 6 in a Chicago suburb where he is hiding out and going deep into training in advance of his entry into the Roulette match one can’t help but see in his eyes a kind of hunger that we haven’t seen as consistently since his arrival in the IWF as we might have expected.
But while the Chicago native seems to be willing to leave every last pint of himself in the ring if he needs to in order to achieve victory, one has to question if that willingness to sacrifice is going to be enough.
Because while the “Wrestling Machine” is one of the most well-schooled technicians in the world today, there are questions about whether or not he has the fire in the belly necessary to battle his way through the sort of stuff he will need to in order to win the Roulette match.
But as Nighthawk heads to his room and places his suitcases on the floor, the insistent ringtone of his iPhone 6 distracts him to the point where he fishes it out of his pocket and turns it on.
Smiling when he notices who is on the phone the “Man of 1000 Holds” sits down and talks to his wife Sin.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Sin, her thick honeyed voice bleeding through the phone: “Are you ready, honey?
I know what this is going to be.
I know what this is going to require of you to finish it, honey.
I just need to know, for my own comfort, if you’re ready for it.
Because if you’re not, don’t do this.
If you think, in any way, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to survive don’t do this.
Because if you’re not ready to be the absolute best that you can be, don’t show up for this.
You’ll get hurt, baby.
And as much as I love you, as much as I admire you, I don’t want to nurse you back to health.”
Nighthawk: “I can do this.
I know I can.
Ever since this match was announced, ever since my name was put into it, I knew I could win.
I might be the only one who thinks it, but I know.
I’m not scared of anyone else in the match.
The funny thing is, that if you listen to just about everyone else who has been predicting this match, is that I’m supposed to be scared.
I’m supposed to be scared of Spike Kane because he’s looking for revenge.
I’m supposed to be scared of Renee Pleasant because he’s like some demi-god out to wreck the entirety of the world in order to get what he wants.
And I’m supposed to be scared of everyone else in this match because I’m not supposed to even mention the idea I can win.
None of that matters.
Not a word of it.
I’m doing this for Dad.
I’m doing it for you.
And if they have to cart me to the back on a stretcher, then so be it.
Because I will breathe my last breath, if I have to, to win this.”
Sin: “That’s all I needed to hear.
Because as much as I love you, and I do love you, I don’t want to be your wet nurse.
I saw your father near the end.
I saw what the wars did to him.
And so did you.
If you can’t find the confidence, and the strength, to walk through what you’re going to have to walk through here then don’t do it.
Do not make me believe you can win, that you can survive all of this, if you don’t think you can.
Because when your body is broken, and you and I both know that it’s going to be someday, I don’t want to have to take care of you without you wondering if it meant something.
I want you to have a legacy you’re proud of, and so does he.
Make us proud, honey.
We know you can.”
Hanging up the phone, Nighthawk pulls out his ring gear from his gym bag and begins to do wrestling drills in the hotel room.
A few hours later…..
As Nighthawk walks to his car to drive to a nearby gym in order to continue his preparations for victory, we see something akin to unreserved glee in his eyes as his trainer, and mentor, Jorge Rivera is waiting for him by the car.
With a look in his eyes approaching that of someone who has been gifted a fabulous problem to solve, Jorge embraces his best, and most accomplished, student.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Nighthawk: “I wouldn’t have called you.
My wife must have.
But, I freely admit, I need you here.
This is, based on how everyone is talking about it, something I need to figure out on my own.
It isn’t like everything else, apparently.
If I’m going to play chess and beat everyone in this thing, I figure I need the best Grand Master I know to guide me through it.
If you can’t see the traps to avoid, the pitfalls I have to watch out for, then there’s no one I know who can.
Please help me.
Help me figure out how to get through all of this.”
Jorge Rivera: “For something like this, Tristan, your wife didn’t call me.
As soon as I heard what was going on, and what it was you were up against, I came out here of my own free will.
You need to be prepared for this like you’ve never been prepared for anything before in your life.
And if I have served you as a professional, if I have done anything in your career, I need to be here to help you with this.
I need to be the guy who guides you through this, who gets you through the dark spots.
I haven’t always been there for you like I should have been.
I haven’t always been the best trainer for you.
Don’t lie to me, and tell me I have, because it’s not true.
This, though, I can do.
Here I can help you.
Let me.”
Nighthawk: “
Ok, teacher.
Show me how to get through this.”
And as they walk into the gym, getting ready to train, Nighthawk shoos us away as his game plan now begins to finally be put together.
The next morning….
As Nighthawk sits on a park bench in front of the United Center, his ice-blue eyes cold and focused, he slowly closes his eyes. Clad in a black leather trenchcoat with a full-scale stylized Nighthawk flying throughout the city of Chicago on the back, a black Ryu Hayabusa t-shirt, black leather pants with a blue-and-orange checkerboard pattern up and down each leg, and black work boots, the “Wrestling Machine” opens his eyes.
Nighthawk: “This is it.
In a few short hours from now, I’ll be walking into the ring trying to prove you don’t have to be a monster to win a match that’s monstrous.
Now there are some, like Spike Kane and Eddie Black, who think this impossible.
They seem to believe you have to be the sort of person who would sit their grandmother’s throat to win in order to do well in a match like this.
But when I am the last man standing, instead of them, I’ll be the one proving you can be tough and relentless without being a monster.
To me, though, it matters not who is in the ring with me.
I can’t control what anyone else does.
I can’t control what anyone else brings to the ring.
I will win Roulette.
I will be facing the Imperial Champion, whoever it might be.
Those are the facts of the situation.
I don’t have to say any more.
No matter what happens, no matter who is in my way, I will find a way.
I will be the last man standing.
Not Spike Kane.
Not Renée Pleasant.
No one else but me is coming out of Roulette with a victory.
Consider this a promise.
Goodnight IWF.
May sleep give you the courage to go on.”
As Nighthawk pulls into the parking lot of a Motel 6 in a Chicago suburb where he is hiding out and going deep into training in advance of his entry into the Roulette match one can’t help but see in his eyes a kind of hunger that we haven’t seen as consistently since his arrival in the IWF as we might have expected.
But while the Chicago native seems to be willing to leave every last pint of himself in the ring if he needs to in order to achieve victory, one has to question if that willingness to sacrifice is going to be enough.
Because while the “Wrestling Machine” is one of the most well-schooled technicians in the world today, there are questions about whether or not he has the fire in the belly necessary to battle his way through the sort of stuff he will need to in order to win the Roulette match.
But as Nighthawk heads to his room and places his suitcases on the floor, the insistent ringtone of his iPhone 6 distracts him to the point where he fishes it out of his pocket and turns it on.
Smiling when he notices who is on the phone the “Man of 1000 Holds” sits down and talks to his wife Sin.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Sin, her thick honeyed voice bleeding through the phone: “Are you ready, honey?
I know what this is going to be.
I know what this is going to require of you to finish it, honey.
I just need to know, for my own comfort, if you’re ready for it.
Because if you’re not, don’t do this.
If you think, in any way, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to survive don’t do this.
Because if you’re not ready to be the absolute best that you can be, don’t show up for this.
You’ll get hurt, baby.
And as much as I love you, as much as I admire you, I don’t want to nurse you back to health.”
Nighthawk: “I can do this.
I know I can.
Ever since this match was announced, ever since my name was put into it, I knew I could win.
I might be the only one who thinks it, but I know.
I’m not scared of anyone else in the match.
The funny thing is, that if you listen to just about everyone else who has been predicting this match, is that I’m supposed to be scared.
I’m supposed to be scared of Spike Kane because he’s looking for revenge.
I’m supposed to be scared of Renee Pleasant because he’s like some demi-god out to wreck the entirety of the world in order to get what he wants.
And I’m supposed to be scared of everyone else in this match because I’m not supposed to even mention the idea I can win.
None of that matters.
Not a word of it.
I’m doing this for Dad.
I’m doing it for you.
And if they have to cart me to the back on a stretcher, then so be it.
Because I will breathe my last breath, if I have to, to win this.”
Sin: “That’s all I needed to hear.
Because as much as I love you, and I do love you, I don’t want to be your wet nurse.
I saw your father near the end.
I saw what the wars did to him.
And so did you.
If you can’t find the confidence, and the strength, to walk through what you’re going to have to walk through here then don’t do it.
Do not make me believe you can win, that you can survive all of this, if you don’t think you can.
Because when your body is broken, and you and I both know that it’s going to be someday, I don’t want to have to take care of you without you wondering if it meant something.
I want you to have a legacy you’re proud of, and so does he.
Make us proud, honey.
We know you can.”
Hanging up the phone, Nighthawk pulls out his ring gear from his gym bag and begins to do wrestling drills in the hotel room.
A few hours later…..
As Nighthawk walks to his car to drive to a nearby gym in order to continue his preparations for victory, we see something akin to unreserved glee in his eyes as his trainer, and mentor, Jorge Rivera is waiting for him by the car.
With a look in his eyes approaching that of someone who has been gifted a fabulous problem to solve, Jorge embraces his best, and most accomplished, student.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Nighthawk: “I wouldn’t have called you.
My wife must have.
But, I freely admit, I need you here.
This is, based on how everyone is talking about it, something I need to figure out on my own.
It isn’t like everything else, apparently.
If I’m going to play chess and beat everyone in this thing, I figure I need the best Grand Master I know to guide me through it.
If you can’t see the traps to avoid, the pitfalls I have to watch out for, then there’s no one I know who can.
Please help me.
Help me figure out how to get through all of this.”
Jorge Rivera: “For something like this, Tristan, your wife didn’t call me.
As soon as I heard what was going on, and what it was you were up against, I came out here of my own free will.
You need to be prepared for this like you’ve never been prepared for anything before in your life.
And if I have served you as a professional, if I have done anything in your career, I need to be here to help you with this.
I need to be the guy who guides you through this, who gets you through the dark spots.
I haven’t always been there for you like I should have been.
I haven’t always been the best trainer for you.
Don’t lie to me, and tell me I have, because it’s not true.
This, though, I can do.
Here I can help you.
Let me.”
Nighthawk: “
Ok, teacher.
Show me how to get through this.”
And as they walk into the gym, getting ready to train, Nighthawk shoos us away as his game plan now begins to finally be put together.
The next morning….
As Nighthawk sits on a park bench in front of the United Center, his ice-blue eyes cold and focused, he slowly closes his eyes. Clad in a black leather trenchcoat with a full-scale stylized Nighthawk flying throughout the city of Chicago on the back, a black Ryu Hayabusa t-shirt, black leather pants with a blue-and-orange checkerboard pattern up and down each leg, and black work boots, the “Wrestling Machine” opens his eyes.
Nighthawk: “This is it.
In a few short hours from now, I’ll be walking into the ring trying to prove you don’t have to be a monster to win a match that’s monstrous.
Now there are some, like Spike Kane and Eddie Black, who think this impossible.
They seem to believe you have to be the sort of person who would sit their grandmother’s throat to win in order to do well in a match like this.
But when I am the last man standing, instead of them, I’ll be the one proving you can be tough and relentless without being a monster.
To me, though, it matters not who is in the ring with me.
I can’t control what anyone else does.
I can’t control what anyone else brings to the ring.
I will win Roulette.
I will be facing the Imperial Champion, whoever it might be.
Those are the facts of the situation.
I don’t have to say any more.
No matter what happens, no matter who is in my way, I will find a way.
I will be the last man standing.
Not Spike Kane.
Not Renée Pleasant.
No one else but me is coming out of Roulette with a victory.
Consider this a promise.
Goodnight IWF.
May sleep give you the courage to go on.”
Well howdy there pardner.