Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Feb 1, 2016 4:18:19 GMT
This match isn’t like any match I’ve ever had in my life. It’s not just that this is the first time I’ve had an opportunity to face my opponent one-on-one. It’s not just that the Invictus Title, a title that has become synonymous with resiliency and indomitable spirit, is inches from my grasp.
No, it’s the knowledge that careers hang in the balance. It’s the knowledge that no matter who ends up the winner, the COO of this company is going to use every resource at his fingertips, from his connections within this industry to his own relentless, merciless dedication, to ensure that the other man never steps into the ring again.
Because our crimes against him were too great to merely put our contracts on the line. No, he’s sworn to blackball us from professional wrestling, as if this were the 1950s and he Joe McCarthy, out to purge the corruption that he sees in us from the Imperial Wrestling Federation. I have to ask: at long last, Mr. Verona, have you left no sense of decency?
None of this seems decent. None of this seems right. And what’s worse, you’re not just tarnishing those who stand against you. Jake Conway is a man who has busted his ass all over the globe for over a decade, who’s persevered through loss and pain, a man whose greatest motivation, above power and respect and glory and gold, above all that…he’s a man who fights for his family. And yet, all anyone’s going to see is that you set him up for a crack at you over anyone else who might have had a chance.
I may not like him for what he does in that ring, but you’ve taken arguably the single most perseverant man in professional wrestling, you’ve taken his chance to remind the world that even at forty-two years of age he’s still one of the best to ever lace up a pair of boots, and you’ve dragged it through the mud. He could have earned that right without you stacking the deck. After all, he’s The Ace. The trump card. Now, nobody is going to see what’s in front of them. They’re just going to see you, pulling strings and calling it leadership.
I can’t lie and say that I know exactly what makes Jake Conway tick, but I’ve learned a whole hell of a lot about what makes Andrew Jacobsen tick in the last few months. I’m not out there because I’m trying to satiate some bloodlust or make people hurt. I’m not cutthroat or ruthless. In a lot of ways, I’m not the ideal that you’re trying to uphold, Roberto. And you know that.
But you also know what I am, or at least you should. I’ve been killing myself for six years to make sure you know who I am. I’m the kind of man who’ll drag himself over barbed wire and broken glass to get to the finish line. I’ll stand back up after you’ve beaten me bloody, bruised and senseless, wave you on, and beg you to give me another one. I will go to the ends of the earth and beyond to ensure that you NEVER forget me.
And you know what? I will survive. So will Warren. Because we’re alike in that way. We don’t give up. We don’t give in. And no matter how much you try to put the boot to our throats, no matter your threats and no matter how much you want us to turn on each other like a pair of hungry piranhas, we refuse. We won’t buckle. We won’t bend. And you won’t destroy us. Know why?
Because we’re unbreakable.
We open on a pair of figures walking into a hotel lobby. The figure in the lead is an unfamiliar man in professional clothing, but the one behind him is all too familiar: Andrew Jacobsen. Andrew is wearing his wrestling gear and a merchandise shirt, with an intent look on his face. The suit is talking to him, clearly mid-conversation for some time, as Andrew listens patiently.
”I know this is a lot, especially with how busy you are, so thank you for taking the time to do this for us. We’re all very happy to have you here.”
Andrew nods, the faintest hints of a smile flickering across his face as he looks to the man and nods.
”This is what’s important. I’ll make the time for something like this, I promise you from the bottom of my heart, no matter what it takes. I wanted to make a difference, and this…how do you put it into words? It makes you feel like a hero.”
The trio reach the door to a meeting room, collecting themselves. Andrew straightens his shirt, clearing his throat, and closes his eyes for a heartbeat. The man nods to Andrew, hand settling on the doorknob.
”Let me know when you’re ready.”
Andrew doesn’t even pause, merely nodding to the man. Dutifully, he opens the door, and Andrew walks through, faint smirk blossoming into the warm million-dollar smile he’s known for.
”Hey! You must be Katie!”
We move into the room with Andrew, where a young girl around eight years old in one of Andrew’s old NCW T-shirts jumps up and runs straight at Andrew, squealing in joy. He immediately drops down, snatching her up in a big hug, and spins her around, smiling brilliantly as she giggles. Andrew sets her down after a few seconds, smiling brightly, and ruffles her hair. Katie grins back at him, nodding eagerly. Andrew chuckles, smiling at her.
”Someone told me you really wanted to meet me. They told me a little about you and how brave you are. Said you wanted to be a wrestler?”
She nods eagerly, bouncing up and down as she nods.
”Uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh! I wanna be a wrestler like you!”
Andrew smiles, grinning. He pauses, an idea flashing in his eyes.
”Do you want me to teach you some wrestling holds?”
Katie’s eyes light up, and she nods eagerly. Andrew grins, standing up straight again. He stretches a little, looking down at Katie and nodding. Katie pauses, speaking again as Andrew limbers up.
”Um…are you gonna be okay? I know you’re fighting on Sunday, an’ Roberto Verona said that you’d be fired if you lost…I don’t want you to lose.”
Tears begin to well in her eyes. Andrew pauses, kneeling down again, and rests a comforting hand on her shoulder, looking deep into her eyes.
”I know, Katie. I don’t want to lose either. I promise you, no matter what…I’m not letting anyone stop me. I’m gonna keep fighting. For you, Katie. For everyone out there who…who ever looked up to me. I wanna be a hero again.”
Katie nods, hugging Andrew again. She smiles brightly at him, blinking away her tears.
”You’re my hero.”
Andrew pauses for a moment, blinking himself, and flashes a faint smile at Katie.
”…it’s amazing to hear that. Now, wanna start with the 21 Gun Salute?”
Katie jumps up and down, nodding again with a smile. Andrew grins, laying down on his back as Katie hops over, and we fade to black as Andrew starts to talk her through applying his signature hold, Katie’s eyes gleaming like stars.
All week, hell, since this match was announced, I’ve heard people talking. Talking about what this match could mean. And I’ve heard a lot of people talking about Warren Kane. They say that he’s the future, and they’re absolutely correct. They say that he’s made the Invictus Title one of the most prestigious and valuable titles in the world. Dead-on there.
And then I hear people say that I’m being selfish by wrestling him. I hear voices that say I need to step aside. That I’m washed up, that my time in the spotlight is over. I’ve been told that if I go out there and I wrestle Warren Kane, I’m trying to deny the future of the business. I should just lay down and let him take his place as the next big thing.
That’s a slap in the face to both of us. Warren Kane deserves the absolute best that I have in me, and I expect nothing less from him. He’s a Kane, he’s a damned fine champion, and I’m pretty sure he’d be insulted if he got anything less out of me.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this. Can I live with what would happen if I won? I’d be a champion again, I’d keep my job…and I’d be taking everything away from a man who has his entire career in front of him. I’d be casting him out of the company that helped him make his name and forcing him to hang in the wind.
But it’s not that cut-and-dried. He’s one of the most talented wrestlers in the world. Does Roberto Verona think that he can really work his will everywhere? Mexico? Japan? A man of Warren Kane’s talents could find work as easily as he breathes. Hell, even in the United States and Europe, there’s got to be someone who would give him a job just out of spite. He’s the heir to one of the greatest names in wrestling and, well…Warren, you’ve got the whole world at your fingertips. Don’t let Roberto Verona throw the blinders on you.
You talk a lot about how much Rob Diamond believed in you, how supportive he’s been, and I want to know what Rob Diamond that was. All I’ve ever known him to be is a loathsome, egocentric bastard who would and did stab his own family in the back for a chance at glory. The moment he’s done with people, the moment they can’t get him power or fame, he’s ready to pretend they never mattered. Still, if he helped you become the man you are today…it can’t be all bad.
I know how much this match means to you, Warren. I know what the Invictus Title means to you. I’ve seen the look in your eyes as you wrestle your ass off to be taken seriously. You’ve made that championship synonymous with you and you’ve already accomplished so much that a lesser wrestler would kill for your career. You think it’s all hanging in the balance, but…I promise you, this isn’t the end of it all.
IWF is your home. NCW was mine. When NCW died…it was scary. I didn’t know what to do. But it made me learn more about myself. It made me grow as a person and a wrestler. So, I guess what I’m saying is…sometimes you need to leave the nest in order to learn how to fly.
And maybe it’s your time to learn.
No, it’s the knowledge that careers hang in the balance. It’s the knowledge that no matter who ends up the winner, the COO of this company is going to use every resource at his fingertips, from his connections within this industry to his own relentless, merciless dedication, to ensure that the other man never steps into the ring again.
Because our crimes against him were too great to merely put our contracts on the line. No, he’s sworn to blackball us from professional wrestling, as if this were the 1950s and he Joe McCarthy, out to purge the corruption that he sees in us from the Imperial Wrestling Federation. I have to ask: at long last, Mr. Verona, have you left no sense of decency?
None of this seems decent. None of this seems right. And what’s worse, you’re not just tarnishing those who stand against you. Jake Conway is a man who has busted his ass all over the globe for over a decade, who’s persevered through loss and pain, a man whose greatest motivation, above power and respect and glory and gold, above all that…he’s a man who fights for his family. And yet, all anyone’s going to see is that you set him up for a crack at you over anyone else who might have had a chance.
I may not like him for what he does in that ring, but you’ve taken arguably the single most perseverant man in professional wrestling, you’ve taken his chance to remind the world that even at forty-two years of age he’s still one of the best to ever lace up a pair of boots, and you’ve dragged it through the mud. He could have earned that right without you stacking the deck. After all, he’s The Ace. The trump card. Now, nobody is going to see what’s in front of them. They’re just going to see you, pulling strings and calling it leadership.
I can’t lie and say that I know exactly what makes Jake Conway tick, but I’ve learned a whole hell of a lot about what makes Andrew Jacobsen tick in the last few months. I’m not out there because I’m trying to satiate some bloodlust or make people hurt. I’m not cutthroat or ruthless. In a lot of ways, I’m not the ideal that you’re trying to uphold, Roberto. And you know that.
But you also know what I am, or at least you should. I’ve been killing myself for six years to make sure you know who I am. I’m the kind of man who’ll drag himself over barbed wire and broken glass to get to the finish line. I’ll stand back up after you’ve beaten me bloody, bruised and senseless, wave you on, and beg you to give me another one. I will go to the ends of the earth and beyond to ensure that you NEVER forget me.
And you know what? I will survive. So will Warren. Because we’re alike in that way. We don’t give up. We don’t give in. And no matter how much you try to put the boot to our throats, no matter your threats and no matter how much you want us to turn on each other like a pair of hungry piranhas, we refuse. We won’t buckle. We won’t bend. And you won’t destroy us. Know why?
Because we’re unbreakable.
We open on a pair of figures walking into a hotel lobby. The figure in the lead is an unfamiliar man in professional clothing, but the one behind him is all too familiar: Andrew Jacobsen. Andrew is wearing his wrestling gear and a merchandise shirt, with an intent look on his face. The suit is talking to him, clearly mid-conversation for some time, as Andrew listens patiently.
”I know this is a lot, especially with how busy you are, so thank you for taking the time to do this for us. We’re all very happy to have you here.”
Andrew nods, the faintest hints of a smile flickering across his face as he looks to the man and nods.
”This is what’s important. I’ll make the time for something like this, I promise you from the bottom of my heart, no matter what it takes. I wanted to make a difference, and this…how do you put it into words? It makes you feel like a hero.”
The trio reach the door to a meeting room, collecting themselves. Andrew straightens his shirt, clearing his throat, and closes his eyes for a heartbeat. The man nods to Andrew, hand settling on the doorknob.
”Let me know when you’re ready.”
Andrew doesn’t even pause, merely nodding to the man. Dutifully, he opens the door, and Andrew walks through, faint smirk blossoming into the warm million-dollar smile he’s known for.
”Hey! You must be Katie!”
We move into the room with Andrew, where a young girl around eight years old in one of Andrew’s old NCW T-shirts jumps up and runs straight at Andrew, squealing in joy. He immediately drops down, snatching her up in a big hug, and spins her around, smiling brilliantly as she giggles. Andrew sets her down after a few seconds, smiling brightly, and ruffles her hair. Katie grins back at him, nodding eagerly. Andrew chuckles, smiling at her.
”Someone told me you really wanted to meet me. They told me a little about you and how brave you are. Said you wanted to be a wrestler?”
She nods eagerly, bouncing up and down as she nods.
”Uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh! I wanna be a wrestler like you!”
Andrew smiles, grinning. He pauses, an idea flashing in his eyes.
”Do you want me to teach you some wrestling holds?”
Katie’s eyes light up, and she nods eagerly. Andrew grins, standing up straight again. He stretches a little, looking down at Katie and nodding. Katie pauses, speaking again as Andrew limbers up.
”Um…are you gonna be okay? I know you’re fighting on Sunday, an’ Roberto Verona said that you’d be fired if you lost…I don’t want you to lose.”
Tears begin to well in her eyes. Andrew pauses, kneeling down again, and rests a comforting hand on her shoulder, looking deep into her eyes.
”I know, Katie. I don’t want to lose either. I promise you, no matter what…I’m not letting anyone stop me. I’m gonna keep fighting. For you, Katie. For everyone out there who…who ever looked up to me. I wanna be a hero again.”
Katie nods, hugging Andrew again. She smiles brightly at him, blinking away her tears.
”You’re my hero.”
Andrew pauses for a moment, blinking himself, and flashes a faint smile at Katie.
”…it’s amazing to hear that. Now, wanna start with the 21 Gun Salute?”
Katie jumps up and down, nodding again with a smile. Andrew grins, laying down on his back as Katie hops over, and we fade to black as Andrew starts to talk her through applying his signature hold, Katie’s eyes gleaming like stars.
All week, hell, since this match was announced, I’ve heard people talking. Talking about what this match could mean. And I’ve heard a lot of people talking about Warren Kane. They say that he’s the future, and they’re absolutely correct. They say that he’s made the Invictus Title one of the most prestigious and valuable titles in the world. Dead-on there.
And then I hear people say that I’m being selfish by wrestling him. I hear voices that say I need to step aside. That I’m washed up, that my time in the spotlight is over. I’ve been told that if I go out there and I wrestle Warren Kane, I’m trying to deny the future of the business. I should just lay down and let him take his place as the next big thing.
That’s a slap in the face to both of us. Warren Kane deserves the absolute best that I have in me, and I expect nothing less from him. He’s a Kane, he’s a damned fine champion, and I’m pretty sure he’d be insulted if he got anything less out of me.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this. Can I live with what would happen if I won? I’d be a champion again, I’d keep my job…and I’d be taking everything away from a man who has his entire career in front of him. I’d be casting him out of the company that helped him make his name and forcing him to hang in the wind.
But it’s not that cut-and-dried. He’s one of the most talented wrestlers in the world. Does Roberto Verona think that he can really work his will everywhere? Mexico? Japan? A man of Warren Kane’s talents could find work as easily as he breathes. Hell, even in the United States and Europe, there’s got to be someone who would give him a job just out of spite. He’s the heir to one of the greatest names in wrestling and, well…Warren, you’ve got the whole world at your fingertips. Don’t let Roberto Verona throw the blinders on you.
You talk a lot about how much Rob Diamond believed in you, how supportive he’s been, and I want to know what Rob Diamond that was. All I’ve ever known him to be is a loathsome, egocentric bastard who would and did stab his own family in the back for a chance at glory. The moment he’s done with people, the moment they can’t get him power or fame, he’s ready to pretend they never mattered. Still, if he helped you become the man you are today…it can’t be all bad.
I know how much this match means to you, Warren. I know what the Invictus Title means to you. I’ve seen the look in your eyes as you wrestle your ass off to be taken seriously. You’ve made that championship synonymous with you and you’ve already accomplished so much that a lesser wrestler would kill for your career. You think it’s all hanging in the balance, but…I promise you, this isn’t the end of it all.
IWF is your home. NCW was mine. When NCW died…it was scary. I didn’t know what to do. But it made me learn more about myself. It made me grow as a person and a wrestler. So, I guess what I’m saying is…sometimes you need to leave the nest in order to learn how to fly.
And maybe it’s your time to learn.
Well howdy there pardner.