Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Jul 14, 2013 22:59:30 GMT
There are moments you want to squelch. Moments you want buried deep, that you never want anyone to recall again as long as they draw breath. These are the pratfalls at your wedding, these are the accidental obscenities during a commencement speech, these are those little humiliations you suffer.
And then there are the moments we cling to forever. The moments where, after all is said and done, we can look back and know that we did things right for once. The stars aligned and we did what we thought impossible. Those are the moments we treasure, because we know just how rare and fleeting they are. I’ve had a few of those. And most of them have one unifying factor: I was written off as never being able to achieve them before I’d even tried.
Toppling Rob Diamond. Stealing the show at the biggest event of the year. Fighting back and pulling through no matter who my opponent was. Slaying the giant that had, for a year, been felled by only one man. And no matter the excuses, no matter how much people see those moments as mistakes by others…I hold on to them. Because they’re one of the best things about what we do.
I didn’t demand the stipulations. I just nodded, laced up my boots, went out there and fought. That’s what we do. That’s what we’re meant to do. I won clean. I got beat clean. Insult his character all you want, but Roberto Verona is a hell of a wrestler. You said so yourself, Xander. So I don’t get why it is you feel so cheated. You’re so driven to prove that this “never happened”, that it didn’t really count, that you’re still so dominatingly better than everyone. Maybe that’s what works in your mind. Maybe you can’t accept mortality. You led a charmed career, Xander. But that first wake-up call hurts. There’s two ways you can handle it. You can accept defeat, vow to improve yourself, and move on…
Or you can let it fester like an open sore and rot. You can let it consume you. And again, though you’d be loath to admit a weakness, that’s what you’ve done. Even though you’ve beaten me, you can’t help but feel the burn every time you see my face, because you know that I got the better of you, even if it was only for three seconds. It was the three seconds that mattered most. Those around you cried foul. And you believed it. After all, you were the Gladiator. You were invincible. How could this ever happen to you?
The same way you’re about to let it happen now. You got overconfident. You got angry. You let yourself believe so thoroughly that there was nothing that could happen other than victory…and then the impossible happened. Then, you were left to protest weakly that I wasn’t good enough to beat you. Grow up, Xander. Please. This perpetual adolescence just isn’t healthy, especially not with the kind of musculature and temper you’ve got. You’re going to do something very stupid…well, apart from speak…and it won’t be something you can Widowmaker your way out of.
We’re almost polar opposites, Xander. Whereas I sometimes go too far in giving my opponents credit, you give none. Where I feel an obligation to respect the other competitors in this industry, you see them all as speed bumps on your road to greatness. Some people would say you can’t argue with success. I’ll argue with it all day long. You might win a match, but at what cost? You’re a hollow person, Xander. You spend your days fighting what you see as inferior beings. And what are you really getting out of it? A release? Find something more. Find something to fight for. I want to see it happen…fight for something, someone besides yourself. A little altruism does the soul good.
When you look at me, you see a pretty boy who spends all his time worried about how he looks. I couldn’t give less of a damn how I look. I’ve spent hours, days in the gym, punishing my body so that I can grow stronger. So that I might be able to prove to myself that I’m still capable of being the man I know I am. Never question my dedication, you son of a bitch, or I will take you to that mat and show you just what supremacy is.
I’ve heard a lot of talk about me being happy with mediocrity. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m not happy with mediocrity. It eats at me. Every time I come up short is more incentive to fight harder the next time. I don’t want to be mediocre, I don’t want to be so-so. I don’t want to be remembered as “that guy who was there” or something like that. I want to be great. I want to be the best in the world. I want to be the World Champion, and I want to set the bar. I’ve always wanted that. And I still do.
You’ve had your sights set on the Heavyweight Championship since you walked into this company. You’ve believed it’s your God-given right as Xander Famularo to have it. Anyone who steps in your way gets flattened. They don’t matter. I’m more than happy to play spoiler to your plans, Xander. You need to be knocked down a peg. Maybe then, as you stare up at the lights and ask yourself how it could have happened again…maybe that’ll knock some of the hubris loose and you might stop acting like an overmuscled frat boy.
Hey, a man can dream, can’t he?
We open inside a hotel room, Andrew sitting on the edge of the bed. He appears exhausted, though clean. As he lays back onto the bed, he groans, feeling his muscles ache with every movement. No sooner does he lay down, though, than a knock comes at the door. Andrew sits up again, grunting and holding his back as he stands, and he calls out.
”Yeah, who is it?”
The reply jolts Andrew’s eyes wide open.
”It’s your better half. Open up.”
Andrew hops out of bed and walks over, opening the door to reveal Danielle Chase standing there with a bemused smile on her face. She looks him over, noting his stance and how he holds himself, and shakes her head.
”I knew the only way you wouldn’t be in the gym is if you couldn’t be. Doctor tell you to stop working out, or your body finally say no more?”
Andrew replies hesitantly, confusion evident in his actions.
”Door Two…Dani, what’s going on? I would have expected a call, why are you here in person?”
She sighs, looking down for a few moments before looking straight up into his eyes.
”Because I figured I wasn’t doing you any good by standing back and letting you dig your own grave, Jacobsen. Now are you going to let me in or are we going to stand in the doorway and talk all night?”
Andrew takes a few steps back, sitting on the bed as Danielle enters. She closes the door behind herself, setting her purse on the desk against the other wall and pulling out a chair to sit on. She clasps her hands together and looks over at Andrew expectantly. Jacobsen returns the look, shrugging and immediately regretting it. Danielle smiles a bit as he winces, clearing her throat.
”I want to set some ground rules. Ones we’ll follow this time. First off: I want a hard cap on gym time. No more than thirty hours a week. There’s no point in spending all that time there if you’re too burnt out to use it in the ring.”
Andrew nods grudgingly, leaning forward a bit. He replies now, not wanting to be steamrolled by his own agent.
”I want to still do charity work. I know I have to make sure to give my training the proper time it deserves, and I need to be doing research, but…I like being out there. Helping people’s…it’s just as important as what I do in the ring.”
Chase sighs, nodding at that.
”It sounds so cheesy when you say it like that, but I understand. Rule three. I want you to keep in contact with me, regularly. If you want to schedule something, run it by me first. I need to be able to find you…for strictly business reasons.”
Danielle adds the last bit on hastily, and Andrew pauses, grinning slightly.
”You missed me, didn’t you? I’m surprised you’re not blushing.”
She rolls her eyes at that, groaning.
”Keep dreaming. Besides, everyone knows you’re asexual.”
Jacobsen’s jaw drops, and he shakes his head, utterly bewildered by the concept.
”Asexual? Me? What, is this because I’m not carting around some trophy girlfriend? For the love of God…”
He facepalms, shaking his head. Chase looks over at him, grinning slightly.
”They’re just jealous that they’re not with People’s Sexiest Man Alive.”
Andrew just looks up at her in disbelief. After a few seconds, he breaks out grinning, chuckling. Chase grins, laughing as well. The two just shake their heads, smiling at each other. Andrew sighs, shaking his head.
”I can’t believe Emma convinced me to do that joke for so long…I don’t even look like Reynolds. Oh man…I miss those days.”
Chase smiles at Andrew knowingly.
”How about we just swap stories tonight?”
”Fine by me.”
Danielle shifts her seating, and Andrew leans back as we fade to black.
And then there are the moments we cling to forever. The moments where, after all is said and done, we can look back and know that we did things right for once. The stars aligned and we did what we thought impossible. Those are the moments we treasure, because we know just how rare and fleeting they are. I’ve had a few of those. And most of them have one unifying factor: I was written off as never being able to achieve them before I’d even tried.
Toppling Rob Diamond. Stealing the show at the biggest event of the year. Fighting back and pulling through no matter who my opponent was. Slaying the giant that had, for a year, been felled by only one man. And no matter the excuses, no matter how much people see those moments as mistakes by others…I hold on to them. Because they’re one of the best things about what we do.
I didn’t demand the stipulations. I just nodded, laced up my boots, went out there and fought. That’s what we do. That’s what we’re meant to do. I won clean. I got beat clean. Insult his character all you want, but Roberto Verona is a hell of a wrestler. You said so yourself, Xander. So I don’t get why it is you feel so cheated. You’re so driven to prove that this “never happened”, that it didn’t really count, that you’re still so dominatingly better than everyone. Maybe that’s what works in your mind. Maybe you can’t accept mortality. You led a charmed career, Xander. But that first wake-up call hurts. There’s two ways you can handle it. You can accept defeat, vow to improve yourself, and move on…
Or you can let it fester like an open sore and rot. You can let it consume you. And again, though you’d be loath to admit a weakness, that’s what you’ve done. Even though you’ve beaten me, you can’t help but feel the burn every time you see my face, because you know that I got the better of you, even if it was only for three seconds. It was the three seconds that mattered most. Those around you cried foul. And you believed it. After all, you were the Gladiator. You were invincible. How could this ever happen to you?
The same way you’re about to let it happen now. You got overconfident. You got angry. You let yourself believe so thoroughly that there was nothing that could happen other than victory…and then the impossible happened. Then, you were left to protest weakly that I wasn’t good enough to beat you. Grow up, Xander. Please. This perpetual adolescence just isn’t healthy, especially not with the kind of musculature and temper you’ve got. You’re going to do something very stupid…well, apart from speak…and it won’t be something you can Widowmaker your way out of.
We’re almost polar opposites, Xander. Whereas I sometimes go too far in giving my opponents credit, you give none. Where I feel an obligation to respect the other competitors in this industry, you see them all as speed bumps on your road to greatness. Some people would say you can’t argue with success. I’ll argue with it all day long. You might win a match, but at what cost? You’re a hollow person, Xander. You spend your days fighting what you see as inferior beings. And what are you really getting out of it? A release? Find something more. Find something to fight for. I want to see it happen…fight for something, someone besides yourself. A little altruism does the soul good.
When you look at me, you see a pretty boy who spends all his time worried about how he looks. I couldn’t give less of a damn how I look. I’ve spent hours, days in the gym, punishing my body so that I can grow stronger. So that I might be able to prove to myself that I’m still capable of being the man I know I am. Never question my dedication, you son of a bitch, or I will take you to that mat and show you just what supremacy is.
I’ve heard a lot of talk about me being happy with mediocrity. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m not happy with mediocrity. It eats at me. Every time I come up short is more incentive to fight harder the next time. I don’t want to be mediocre, I don’t want to be so-so. I don’t want to be remembered as “that guy who was there” or something like that. I want to be great. I want to be the best in the world. I want to be the World Champion, and I want to set the bar. I’ve always wanted that. And I still do.
You’ve had your sights set on the Heavyweight Championship since you walked into this company. You’ve believed it’s your God-given right as Xander Famularo to have it. Anyone who steps in your way gets flattened. They don’t matter. I’m more than happy to play spoiler to your plans, Xander. You need to be knocked down a peg. Maybe then, as you stare up at the lights and ask yourself how it could have happened again…maybe that’ll knock some of the hubris loose and you might stop acting like an overmuscled frat boy.
Hey, a man can dream, can’t he?
We open inside a hotel room, Andrew sitting on the edge of the bed. He appears exhausted, though clean. As he lays back onto the bed, he groans, feeling his muscles ache with every movement. No sooner does he lay down, though, than a knock comes at the door. Andrew sits up again, grunting and holding his back as he stands, and he calls out.
”Yeah, who is it?”
The reply jolts Andrew’s eyes wide open.
”It’s your better half. Open up.”
Andrew hops out of bed and walks over, opening the door to reveal Danielle Chase standing there with a bemused smile on her face. She looks him over, noting his stance and how he holds himself, and shakes her head.
”I knew the only way you wouldn’t be in the gym is if you couldn’t be. Doctor tell you to stop working out, or your body finally say no more?”
Andrew replies hesitantly, confusion evident in his actions.
”Door Two…Dani, what’s going on? I would have expected a call, why are you here in person?”
She sighs, looking down for a few moments before looking straight up into his eyes.
”Because I figured I wasn’t doing you any good by standing back and letting you dig your own grave, Jacobsen. Now are you going to let me in or are we going to stand in the doorway and talk all night?”
Andrew takes a few steps back, sitting on the bed as Danielle enters. She closes the door behind herself, setting her purse on the desk against the other wall and pulling out a chair to sit on. She clasps her hands together and looks over at Andrew expectantly. Jacobsen returns the look, shrugging and immediately regretting it. Danielle smiles a bit as he winces, clearing her throat.
”I want to set some ground rules. Ones we’ll follow this time. First off: I want a hard cap on gym time. No more than thirty hours a week. There’s no point in spending all that time there if you’re too burnt out to use it in the ring.”
Andrew nods grudgingly, leaning forward a bit. He replies now, not wanting to be steamrolled by his own agent.
”I want to still do charity work. I know I have to make sure to give my training the proper time it deserves, and I need to be doing research, but…I like being out there. Helping people’s…it’s just as important as what I do in the ring.”
Chase sighs, nodding at that.
”It sounds so cheesy when you say it like that, but I understand. Rule three. I want you to keep in contact with me, regularly. If you want to schedule something, run it by me first. I need to be able to find you…for strictly business reasons.”
Danielle adds the last bit on hastily, and Andrew pauses, grinning slightly.
”You missed me, didn’t you? I’m surprised you’re not blushing.”
She rolls her eyes at that, groaning.
”Keep dreaming. Besides, everyone knows you’re asexual.”
Jacobsen’s jaw drops, and he shakes his head, utterly bewildered by the concept.
”Asexual? Me? What, is this because I’m not carting around some trophy girlfriend? For the love of God…”
He facepalms, shaking his head. Chase looks over at him, grinning slightly.
”They’re just jealous that they’re not with People’s Sexiest Man Alive.”
Andrew just looks up at her in disbelief. After a few seconds, he breaks out grinning, chuckling. Chase grins, laughing as well. The two just shake their heads, smiling at each other. Andrew sighs, shaking his head.
”I can’t believe Emma convinced me to do that joke for so long…I don’t even look like Reynolds. Oh man…I miss those days.”
Chase smiles at Andrew knowingly.
”How about we just swap stories tonight?”
”Fine by me.”
Danielle shifts her seating, and Andrew leans back as we fade to black.
Well howdy there pardner.