Post by Awesome Stick Labor on Mar 27, 2016 14:40:36 GMT
March 24, 2016 – 7:00 AM
In the garage...
….we find Jack Gaither, sporting a black leather jacket, a “victory green” Dallas Stars shirt, blue jean shorts, and a red Texas Rangers ballcap, slowly walking around his newly-restored 1973 Chevrolet Vega that his former teacher, Regina Kimble, and fiancee, Fiona McFly, helped build together with a set of keys in hand. He took in its banana-yellow paint scheme, nodding humbly as he gazed upon the newly-installed Texas state license plates that are displayed proudly on the car's front and rear bumper.
Jack couldn't help but smile, for he knew that his parents would've wanted him to have the Vega someday, as he opened the driver's side door and hopped in. With the garage door to the house fully opened, Jack calmly surveys the automobile plush leather interior, its backseat stuffed with camping equipment including an LED lantern and an ice chest filled with items to make cold meals or snacks, before starting its engine. Slowly, Jack drives out onto the driveway before stepping outside to survey the scene that lies in front of him.
On this day, the Texan's 34th birthday, he is greeted by a spectacular sunrise, the morning sky lighting up like a flame amidst temperatures hovering in the mid-40s. After closing the garage door behind him, Jack hops back into the car and drives forward, turning left onto Wolf Creek Drive, heading towards Wheeler. He closed his eyes, imagining the excited faces of his friends and family who once played stickball games on these very same streets many years ago, and smiled warmly as he turned onto Wheeler.
”Miss Kimble said it best: 'how we deal with death is at least as important as how we deal with life.'
One day you're wearin' diapers, the next you're in school learnin' somethin' about twice times, and the followin' day...you're gone. But in the interim, the things that take place while you're on this earth...will last longer than anything you can ever imagine. I still remember that place, that town, that house...like it was yesterday, for it was truly a safe haven, an idyllic world where I could feel comforted and nourished by the people who were closest to me.”
One day you're wearin' diapers, the next you're in school learnin' somethin' about twice times, and the followin' day...you're gone. But in the interim, the things that take place while you're on this earth...will last longer than anything you can ever imagine. I still remember that place, that town, that house...like it was yesterday, for it was truly a safe haven, an idyllic world where I could feel comforted and nourished by the people who were closest to me.”
Jack eventually made a left onto Wheeler Drive before making another left onto Southeast Parkway. He drove slowly along the busy stretch of road before coming up to his old school, Beckham Elementary. Closing his eyes once more, the Texan reinvisioned his days as a child, learning lessons on conquering fear from Miss Kimble and channeling anger from former principal and caretaker Mr. Tetsuro “Arnold” Morita before driving away, leaving the empty playground and school building behind. Later in his drive, Jack pulled up to the intersection of Southeast and New York Avenue...
...where he could no longer hide his emotions.
Tears of sadness streamed from his eyes upon stopping at the traffic light—the very same location where he was involved in the drunk driving head-on crash with the 1985 Ford Bronco that put him in a coma and killed his mother. The Texan's contemplation of the memory of this horrific event in his life was short-lived when he heard a horn honking from behind him.
Jack sighed to himself, knowing that he had to move when the light turned green. He continued his journey towards Highway 360, leaving the memories of his past in his rearview mirror.
”In the end, I couldn't stop the inevitable—the world around me had to change and I had no say whatsoever. It ain't because I wasn't strong enough—nothin' like that—it was simply a mere part of human evolution, the next step in my personal growth. People used to tell me all the time that, no matter the age, no one should ever have to go through what I had to go through as a child, but livin' through that adversity has made me stronger, turnin' me into a part of the civilization I live in to this day. I might not agree with a concept or two, say for example two women or two men marryin' each other, but I'm gonna have to move past that and let it come to pass, allowin' history to unfold as it should.
That's what this journey I've taken--this "Odyssey of the Mind"--was all about. A part of me still longs for those moments I spent with my mother, for I miss her greatly to this very day, but there's another part of me that wants to move forward, usin' the past as a guide to help me keep reachin' for the stars above.
While I realize that, over the course of nearly thirty years, the world around me has gone into the shitter with its mass shootings or terrorist acts, when it all boils down to it...I gotta create new memories for myself and the people I call my “family.” At the same time, I will never forget the past that I'll leave behind, for I will treasure those moments and preserve them in my memory...
...while lookin' toward the open horizon with grace and wonder.”
That's what this journey I've taken--this "Odyssey of the Mind"--was all about. A part of me still longs for those moments I spent with my mother, for I miss her greatly to this very day, but there's another part of me that wants to move forward, usin' the past as a guide to help me keep reachin' for the stars above.
While I realize that, over the course of nearly thirty years, the world around me has gone into the shitter with its mass shootings or terrorist acts, when it all boils down to it...I gotta create new memories for myself and the people I call my “family.” At the same time, I will never forget the past that I'll leave behind, for I will treasure those moments and preserve them in my memory...
...while lookin' toward the open horizon with grace and wonder.”
The bright-yellow Vega made its way toward 360, and Jack grinned widely as he pulled out his phone and mapped out his intended destination using its Google Navigation app. Setting the device in the car's center console, the Texan pulled out a Cuban cigar from the pack Fiona gave him for his birthday last year, lighting it using the in-car cigarette lighter before taking a singular puff.
JACK GAITHER: Let's see what she's got...
Pulling down the visor to protect his eyes from the sun, Jack makes a right-hand turn and drives south on 360. The forty-three year old automobile speeds away on its five-hour drive, with the Texan enjoying the aroma of his cigar as he headed toward his final stop, Enchanted Rock near Fredericksburg, Texas.
Jack Gaither, who started humming an old jazz tune, was going to his "happy place."
As the old car lumbered down the highway towards the distant horizon, he couldn't help but smile.
JACK: "Never saw the sun, shining so bright...
Never saw things, going so right..."
---------
John Tolly, Mike Madness, Ryan Shane...
...Angel “God” Blake, Mohammed Al-Thani, and Warren Kane.
Anyone within the cozy confines of the Imperial world can easily put faces to those names I mentioned, but can they figure out the common thread. Probably not—but I can. For ya see, those seven names—those seven men—were the ones that I had the distinctive pleasure in eliminatin' from last year's Roulette. It was the very first match where people within the IWF landscape took notice of what I was capable of doin' in that ring, that I had left EVERYTHING on the table to please the millions of folks who've watched me ever since I arrived.
I didn't need to join an alliance to chuck those guys outta the Roulette in 2015. I put my blood, sweat, and tears on the line and did things MY WAY—the right way—and earned honor and respect amongst my peers. Those tenets were a part of the wrasslin' world that I once knew and respected.
Yet those things I mentioned have been thrown right out the window in recent months.
Over the course of a full year, leadin' up to the 2016 edition of High Stakes, I've found myself dragged into the middle of an ongoin' conflict between the corporate suits and supposed do-gooders. I've found myself takin' punishment week after week after week simply 'cuz I haven't joined an alliance. But I know that alliances do nothin' but start wars they can't fully recover from, pissin' other people off who simply want to be loyal to their jobs and play their part in shapin' the wrasslin' gig into what it is today.
And I would rather be committed to my work by my lonesome rather than be led by someone else.
On the whole, the Imperial Wrestling Federation has lost sight of itself, with factions on both sides squabblin' for power, prestige, and the attention of millions of fans around the world. Yet I see through all that bullshit, for the very concept of an internal conflict will do nothin' except for tear this entire company apart—just as global conflicts like World War II have conspired to tear apart nations and sacrifce millions of lives...all in the name of blind loyalty.
The things that mattered to me the most throughout my career--things like self-respect, professional dignity, and loyalty to the job at hand--have been thrown out the proverbial window in favor of egocentric nepotism and constant fighting between different in-house factions.
And it's done nothin' but piss me off.
You see, people like Rob Diamond or Warren Kane would let their egos get into the way and trample the wrasslin' gig with their overinflated statements, claimin' that they're gonna win this match in “the right way" yet they let their self-centered desires get into their minds when they don't get their way in this sport. On the other hand, people like Roberto Verona or Mike Laszlo will continually fuck hapless folks like myself over, threatenin' them with an ass-whuppin' if they down bow to their every whim and demand they make, forcin' the helpless individuals to stray from what they believe in in order to sell their souls to the Devil incarnate himself.
I ain't gonna let that happen to me, gentlemen. For I fight my own battles, earnin' honor and respect for myself and my family without anyone else backin' me up.
And I wouldn't want it any other goddamn way.
The Roulette, by its very nature, is a clusterfuck—an unpredictable affair where anyone can come out on top at any given time. Yet there's one minute detail that the IWF has forgotten over the course of a full year—that it ain't about the friendships ya make or the alliances that come to pass. It's about chuckin' keysters over that top rope and watchin' 'em cry like l'il bitty babies as they reach the arena floor. It don't matter whether you're someone's buddy or someone's worst enemy—the fact of the matter is that, sooner or later, you're gonna find yourself flyin' outta the IWF title scene faster than you'll be able to comprehend.
In this high stakes match where anything goes, the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many.
In this business, where survival is critical to success, I can only trust one person—and it ain't Roberto Verona, Rob Diamond, or even Warren Kane. I can only trust MYSELF, for I would rather prefer playin' the game in the same manner I've done in the past—alone, with dignity, honor, and respect. No bullshit, no people tellin' me what I can and can't say...just me, doin' my job and bein' as loyal to the craft as I can be.
On both sides of the spectrum, the establishment makes the critical mistake of sayin' that I'd rather martyr myself instead of pickin' to fight with them. Yet they are wrong—dead wrong--'cause there's more to bein' in this wrasslin' industry than blindly committin' yourself to followin' someone else's wishes and sacrificin' my very livelihood in their name. This sport is about preservation, learnin' from the past while lookin' forward to the future.
I fully understand that the wrasslin' world has changed—it's just a part of evolution, nothin' more and nothin' less. I've gotta leave a bunch of things in my life behind me and focus on what's comin' up on my horizon, usin' what I've learned as a guide to help me be the best man I can be inside that squared circle.
All I wanna do is lead this industry into the future while protectin' its storied past, and to see the likes of Imperial bein' torn apart from within just burns my soul. Well...I ain't gonna stand for that no longer. For I'm more than just a “company guy”--but rather I'm someone who people can trust, for I'd rather stay committed to forgin' a legacy for me and my loved ones, stickin' to my line of work, and fightin' my battles on my own.
No jumpin' through hoops. No playin' bullshit games. No one backin' me up.
As far as y'all need to be concerned, each and every one of you in the Roulette match this year are my enemy, and y'all will be treated as such. It don't matter what your name is, for whether or it it's Rob Diamond, Warren Kane, Mike Laszlo, or Jake Conway, I will come at every single one of you in the same manner as I've done to my opponents in the past—head-on, full of the heart and desire I've shown since day one. No matter my position in the drawin', I will win the Roulette. I willl be the one who preserves IWF's past while spearheadin' the company into places it has never been before. And I will show you all that I don't have to choose the friends I make in order for me to be the best out there in that ring.
For I will have done it all the right way—my way.
'Til Sunday pilgrims.
John Tolly, Mike Madness, Ryan Shane...
...Angel “God” Blake, Mohammed Al-Thani, and Warren Kane.
Anyone within the cozy confines of the Imperial world can easily put faces to those names I mentioned, but can they figure out the common thread. Probably not—but I can. For ya see, those seven names—those seven men—were the ones that I had the distinctive pleasure in eliminatin' from last year's Roulette. It was the very first match where people within the IWF landscape took notice of what I was capable of doin' in that ring, that I had left EVERYTHING on the table to please the millions of folks who've watched me ever since I arrived.
I didn't need to join an alliance to chuck those guys outta the Roulette in 2015. I put my blood, sweat, and tears on the line and did things MY WAY—the right way—and earned honor and respect amongst my peers. Those tenets were a part of the wrasslin' world that I once knew and respected.
Yet those things I mentioned have been thrown right out the window in recent months.
Over the course of a full year, leadin' up to the 2016 edition of High Stakes, I've found myself dragged into the middle of an ongoin' conflict between the corporate suits and supposed do-gooders. I've found myself takin' punishment week after week after week simply 'cuz I haven't joined an alliance. But I know that alliances do nothin' but start wars they can't fully recover from, pissin' other people off who simply want to be loyal to their jobs and play their part in shapin' the wrasslin' gig into what it is today.
And I would rather be committed to my work by my lonesome rather than be led by someone else.
On the whole, the Imperial Wrestling Federation has lost sight of itself, with factions on both sides squabblin' for power, prestige, and the attention of millions of fans around the world. Yet I see through all that bullshit, for the very concept of an internal conflict will do nothin' except for tear this entire company apart—just as global conflicts like World War II have conspired to tear apart nations and sacrifce millions of lives...all in the name of blind loyalty.
The things that mattered to me the most throughout my career--things like self-respect, professional dignity, and loyalty to the job at hand--have been thrown out the proverbial window in favor of egocentric nepotism and constant fighting between different in-house factions.
And it's done nothin' but piss me off.
You see, people like Rob Diamond or Warren Kane would let their egos get into the way and trample the wrasslin' gig with their overinflated statements, claimin' that they're gonna win this match in “the right way" yet they let their self-centered desires get into their minds when they don't get their way in this sport. On the other hand, people like Roberto Verona or Mike Laszlo will continually fuck hapless folks like myself over, threatenin' them with an ass-whuppin' if they down bow to their every whim and demand they make, forcin' the helpless individuals to stray from what they believe in in order to sell their souls to the Devil incarnate himself.
I ain't gonna let that happen to me, gentlemen. For I fight my own battles, earnin' honor and respect for myself and my family without anyone else backin' me up.
And I wouldn't want it any other goddamn way.
The Roulette, by its very nature, is a clusterfuck—an unpredictable affair where anyone can come out on top at any given time. Yet there's one minute detail that the IWF has forgotten over the course of a full year—that it ain't about the friendships ya make or the alliances that come to pass. It's about chuckin' keysters over that top rope and watchin' 'em cry like l'il bitty babies as they reach the arena floor. It don't matter whether you're someone's buddy or someone's worst enemy—the fact of the matter is that, sooner or later, you're gonna find yourself flyin' outta the IWF title scene faster than you'll be able to comprehend.
In this high stakes match where anything goes, the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many.
In this business, where survival is critical to success, I can only trust one person—and it ain't Roberto Verona, Rob Diamond, or even Warren Kane. I can only trust MYSELF, for I would rather prefer playin' the game in the same manner I've done in the past—alone, with dignity, honor, and respect. No bullshit, no people tellin' me what I can and can't say...just me, doin' my job and bein' as loyal to the craft as I can be.
On both sides of the spectrum, the establishment makes the critical mistake of sayin' that I'd rather martyr myself instead of pickin' to fight with them. Yet they are wrong—dead wrong--'cause there's more to bein' in this wrasslin' industry than blindly committin' yourself to followin' someone else's wishes and sacrificin' my very livelihood in their name. This sport is about preservation, learnin' from the past while lookin' forward to the future.
I fully understand that the wrasslin' world has changed—it's just a part of evolution, nothin' more and nothin' less. I've gotta leave a bunch of things in my life behind me and focus on what's comin' up on my horizon, usin' what I've learned as a guide to help me be the best man I can be inside that squared circle.
All I wanna do is lead this industry into the future while protectin' its storied past, and to see the likes of Imperial bein' torn apart from within just burns my soul. Well...I ain't gonna stand for that no longer. For I'm more than just a “company guy”--but rather I'm someone who people can trust, for I'd rather stay committed to forgin' a legacy for me and my loved ones, stickin' to my line of work, and fightin' my battles on my own.
No jumpin' through hoops. No playin' bullshit games. No one backin' me up.
As far as y'all need to be concerned, each and every one of you in the Roulette match this year are my enemy, and y'all will be treated as such. It don't matter what your name is, for whether or it it's Rob Diamond, Warren Kane, Mike Laszlo, or Jake Conway, I will come at every single one of you in the same manner as I've done to my opponents in the past—head-on, full of the heart and desire I've shown since day one. No matter my position in the drawin', I will win the Roulette. I willl be the one who preserves IWF's past while spearheadin' the company into places it has never been before. And I will show you all that I don't have to choose the friends I make in order for me to be the best out there in that ring.
For I will have done it all the right way—my way.
'Til Sunday pilgrims.
Well howdy there pardner.