Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Feb 13, 2017 4:54:11 GMT
This job isn’t easy. It never has been. Even apart from the wear and tear of all these nights on the road, all the times I get punched, or kicked, or slammed, or twisted into a pretzel, there’s the mental exhaustion. You get beaten down, your bones heal. You get kicked into a pulp, the bruises will fade. But there’s something about the emotional torque we suffer…the heartbreak of a tough loss, the gulf left in our hearts by a betrayal…it takes it out of you in a way that you can never really predict.
Doctors can tell you how long it takes for your leg to heal after it breaks. They can give you a rehab schedule for an injured neck. You can never tell how long it’ll take to recover emotionally. And we try to be tough guys. We try to say that it doesn’t affect us, that we’ve got what it takes to just power through. None of us stay unscarred forever. There’s always something that gets to you…and it changes you.
It hollows you out in a way that never really heals. That sort of thing happens once? You can get back up, you can keep fighting. You can use that pain to motivate you. It happens twice…it takes a little shine off of you. You lose a bit of spring in your step, you lose a bit of snap in how you hit…but after a while, you get stabbed in the back enough, you get disappointed enough, and it starts becoming a fuel all its own.
But it’s toxic. The longer you run on that hatred, the more you rot yourself from the inside out. And you can only run on that hatred for so long before you do one of two things: you stop, because you know you have to, or you let it consume you. I promised my trainer, my father, and myself that I wouldn’t let myself get consumed like that. It’s been hard, I’ll be honest. There have been times I’ve slipped, let my rage consume me…but I never let it win. Not forever. I know there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, and there’s always a way back from the brink.
I want to believe there’s a road back for everyone. People want to be good, at their core. They want to be something better than they are. But when they’ve been beaten down by life…it’s hard for them to see that goodness in the world. They just want to lash out over and over again, spread their pain…because it’s the only thing they think can lift it from their shoulders, even if it’s only a moment’s respite.
If all you leave is a legacy of broken bones and shattered hopes…if you succeed, and everyone becomes as miserable as you, then what? Then you all sink together. I don’t want that. I don’t want to drag the people around me down. I want to raise them up. I want to show them that there are things to live for out there beyond this ring. I want them to find purpose again. And standing before me…the most hurt I’ve ever seen in one man. But I won’t back down. This is too important. I won’t give up now.
I refuse to write off a man I once called friend.
Andrew takes a deep breath, rotating his left shoulder gingerly and adjusting a compact rotation cuff brace as he walks out of the gym’s shower area. He looks over towards the lobby where Danielle Chase sits, dressed as casually as she ever gets, and pockets a pair of earbuds, walking over towards her with his hands in his pockets. Danielle looks up from her laptop, closing the lid, and smiles at Andrew as he sits down across from her.
“Shoulder doing any better?”
Andrew nods, glancing over at the brace peeking out from beneath the IWF-branded tanktop he’s wearing. Danielle sees it, wincing briefly, and nods, taking a sip from a bottle of water. Andrew beckons for the bottle, and she obligingly hands it over. Andrew takes a big swig, using his good arm, and sets the bottle back down.
“Yeah. It’s better. Not 100%, but it’s better. I’ll take anything I can get at this point. I didn’t know we were going into this so soon. I would’ve liked some more time to rehab, but…we only get what we get, right?”
Danielle nods, exhaling through her nose. She forces a smile on her face, cocking her head slightly to the side, and shrugs at Andrew.
“Well hey, at least there’s a silver lining. The God of Steel rules got pulled. This is a straight Man of Steel match. You can do this, Andrew. I know you can.”
Andrew pauses, looking Danielle in the eyes, and sighs quietly. Danielle’s eyebrow cocks at the long moment, and Andrew hesitates a split-second more before explaining himself.
“I just…that’s my friend out there. At least…he was, once upon a time. I can’t see him do this to himself. I know he’s done horrible things, but…I know he can be more, and he’s not going to be that way as long as he has the House of Howlett surrounding him. He needs to get out of this God of Steel headspace.”
Danielle snorts briefly, seemingly not surprised by this turn of events, and takes the water bottle back, pointing it at Andrew.
“And you think you can fix that? By what, winning the title? He’s fixated on that more than anything else in the world. You rip that out of his hands, he’s just going to try to kill you.”
Andrew’s response is immediate, as if he’d been anticipating that response the whole time. His voice is resolute as he speaks, eyes hardening without dulling.
“Yeah, he will. He’s going to try to kill me no matter what I do. Why not try to make something of it? He can try to kill me, and I’m going to hit him right back. And once we’re done…once we’re done, I’m going to remind him of what’s really important, no matter how hard he wants to try to ignore it.”
Danielle blinks, confusion written on her face.
“What do you have in mind?”
Andrew takes a deep breath, running his hand through his hair, and leans on his elbow, exhaling through clenched teeth before cracking a faint smile finally.
“I, uh…I had a conversation with the old man a little while back that got me thinking, and…I’m gonna remind him who he’s still got to fight for.”
Danielle opens her mouth to question it again, but she catches herself, and her eyes widen. She looks to Andrew for confirmation, and all that meets her is that same determined look on Andrew’s face. Danielle takes a deep breath, exhaling through her nose, and rests her hands on her laptop’s lid. When she speaks, her voice carries notes of worry, irritation…but also intrigue.
“…I’m listening.”
Andrew’s faint smile splits into a full-fledged grin, and he folds his hands together with a smile as we fade to black.
Spike.
I’m so sorry, man.
I am so, so sorry. I can’t begin to know what you’re going through. But…I know that this isn’t the right way. What the hell do you get out of trying to murder Johnny Gillmen? The man didn’t know. Most of us didn’t know. Hell, night of I didn’t know until the IWF audience did. What the hell do you get out of trying to assault Kathy Conway? You have a right to grieve, Spike. I won’t ever deny that. But goddammit, don’t let it tear you to shreds like this.
I still remember the Spike Kane I met all those years ago. I still remember the Spike Kane who once, when he thought he’d be hanging it up for good…he said some words that stuck in my mind. “Kyle...forgive me, my brother. I do this for my sanity. Goodbye. Thank you for the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I stand here, and I hail each and every one of you.” And so, I beg you…for your own sake. For your sanity. Remember that Spike Kane. Find him in you again. And if you can’t? If all that drives you is that grief and frustration? Fine. You can hate. But you can’t hate for much longer, because I WILL purge it from you like venom from a wound.
You want someone to hate? You want someone to pummel? I’m right here, big man. And I can take it better than either of them. I can take it like nobody else on this roster can take it. And if I need to choke this hatred out of you, I will. I will beat and slam and bend and stretch and strike and suplex you until you can’t move, I will spin your spine into a damn ampersand, and when you can’t take that pain anymore, when the hurt chokes you from consciousness…I will be the first man there to pull you back to your feet. Because I miss you, Spike. I miss the you I knew. And I’m not the only one who could use him back right about now.
This obsession you’ve got with the Man of Steel Championship…the way you’ve refashioned yourself around it, it’s just…wrong. It does not define you, you define it. You’ve had some of the most talented men in this company, in the entire world, take you on and be unable to tear it from your grasp. But they were all doing it for a different reason. They wanted the glory of defeating the God of Steel and taking that title. I want to be Man of Steel Champion, to be sure. It’s what I’ve wanted since I signed that first contract with IWF almost four years ago. But more than that, more than any of the other men who you’ve fended off to keep that title around your waist?
I want my friend back. And I will go to any means necessary to bring him back to the light. There’s good in you, Spike. I’m going to find it again. Fight with me. Bleed with me. Stand with me. But know that I won’t give up. So if you want to silence me, you’re going to have to do more than you did with Johnny. You’re going to have to finish the job. And then, when we’re done here, we’re going to do what we should have done a long, long time ago.
We’re getting your son back.
Doctors can tell you how long it takes for your leg to heal after it breaks. They can give you a rehab schedule for an injured neck. You can never tell how long it’ll take to recover emotionally. And we try to be tough guys. We try to say that it doesn’t affect us, that we’ve got what it takes to just power through. None of us stay unscarred forever. There’s always something that gets to you…and it changes you.
It hollows you out in a way that never really heals. That sort of thing happens once? You can get back up, you can keep fighting. You can use that pain to motivate you. It happens twice…it takes a little shine off of you. You lose a bit of spring in your step, you lose a bit of snap in how you hit…but after a while, you get stabbed in the back enough, you get disappointed enough, and it starts becoming a fuel all its own.
But it’s toxic. The longer you run on that hatred, the more you rot yourself from the inside out. And you can only run on that hatred for so long before you do one of two things: you stop, because you know you have to, or you let it consume you. I promised my trainer, my father, and myself that I wouldn’t let myself get consumed like that. It’s been hard, I’ll be honest. There have been times I’ve slipped, let my rage consume me…but I never let it win. Not forever. I know there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, and there’s always a way back from the brink.
I want to believe there’s a road back for everyone. People want to be good, at their core. They want to be something better than they are. But when they’ve been beaten down by life…it’s hard for them to see that goodness in the world. They just want to lash out over and over again, spread their pain…because it’s the only thing they think can lift it from their shoulders, even if it’s only a moment’s respite.
If all you leave is a legacy of broken bones and shattered hopes…if you succeed, and everyone becomes as miserable as you, then what? Then you all sink together. I don’t want that. I don’t want to drag the people around me down. I want to raise them up. I want to show them that there are things to live for out there beyond this ring. I want them to find purpose again. And standing before me…the most hurt I’ve ever seen in one man. But I won’t back down. This is too important. I won’t give up now.
I refuse to write off a man I once called friend.
Andrew takes a deep breath, rotating his left shoulder gingerly and adjusting a compact rotation cuff brace as he walks out of the gym’s shower area. He looks over towards the lobby where Danielle Chase sits, dressed as casually as she ever gets, and pockets a pair of earbuds, walking over towards her with his hands in his pockets. Danielle looks up from her laptop, closing the lid, and smiles at Andrew as he sits down across from her.
“Shoulder doing any better?”
Andrew nods, glancing over at the brace peeking out from beneath the IWF-branded tanktop he’s wearing. Danielle sees it, wincing briefly, and nods, taking a sip from a bottle of water. Andrew beckons for the bottle, and she obligingly hands it over. Andrew takes a big swig, using his good arm, and sets the bottle back down.
“Yeah. It’s better. Not 100%, but it’s better. I’ll take anything I can get at this point. I didn’t know we were going into this so soon. I would’ve liked some more time to rehab, but…we only get what we get, right?”
Danielle nods, exhaling through her nose. She forces a smile on her face, cocking her head slightly to the side, and shrugs at Andrew.
“Well hey, at least there’s a silver lining. The God of Steel rules got pulled. This is a straight Man of Steel match. You can do this, Andrew. I know you can.”
Andrew pauses, looking Danielle in the eyes, and sighs quietly. Danielle’s eyebrow cocks at the long moment, and Andrew hesitates a split-second more before explaining himself.
“I just…that’s my friend out there. At least…he was, once upon a time. I can’t see him do this to himself. I know he’s done horrible things, but…I know he can be more, and he’s not going to be that way as long as he has the House of Howlett surrounding him. He needs to get out of this God of Steel headspace.”
Danielle snorts briefly, seemingly not surprised by this turn of events, and takes the water bottle back, pointing it at Andrew.
“And you think you can fix that? By what, winning the title? He’s fixated on that more than anything else in the world. You rip that out of his hands, he’s just going to try to kill you.”
Andrew’s response is immediate, as if he’d been anticipating that response the whole time. His voice is resolute as he speaks, eyes hardening without dulling.
“Yeah, he will. He’s going to try to kill me no matter what I do. Why not try to make something of it? He can try to kill me, and I’m going to hit him right back. And once we’re done…once we’re done, I’m going to remind him of what’s really important, no matter how hard he wants to try to ignore it.”
Danielle blinks, confusion written on her face.
“What do you have in mind?”
Andrew takes a deep breath, running his hand through his hair, and leans on his elbow, exhaling through clenched teeth before cracking a faint smile finally.
“I, uh…I had a conversation with the old man a little while back that got me thinking, and…I’m gonna remind him who he’s still got to fight for.”
Danielle opens her mouth to question it again, but she catches herself, and her eyes widen. She looks to Andrew for confirmation, and all that meets her is that same determined look on Andrew’s face. Danielle takes a deep breath, exhaling through her nose, and rests her hands on her laptop’s lid. When she speaks, her voice carries notes of worry, irritation…but also intrigue.
“…I’m listening.”
Andrew’s faint smile splits into a full-fledged grin, and he folds his hands together with a smile as we fade to black.
Spike.
I’m so sorry, man.
I am so, so sorry. I can’t begin to know what you’re going through. But…I know that this isn’t the right way. What the hell do you get out of trying to murder Johnny Gillmen? The man didn’t know. Most of us didn’t know. Hell, night of I didn’t know until the IWF audience did. What the hell do you get out of trying to assault Kathy Conway? You have a right to grieve, Spike. I won’t ever deny that. But goddammit, don’t let it tear you to shreds like this.
I still remember the Spike Kane I met all those years ago. I still remember the Spike Kane who once, when he thought he’d be hanging it up for good…he said some words that stuck in my mind. “Kyle...forgive me, my brother. I do this for my sanity. Goodbye. Thank you for the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I stand here, and I hail each and every one of you.” And so, I beg you…for your own sake. For your sanity. Remember that Spike Kane. Find him in you again. And if you can’t? If all that drives you is that grief and frustration? Fine. You can hate. But you can’t hate for much longer, because I WILL purge it from you like venom from a wound.
You want someone to hate? You want someone to pummel? I’m right here, big man. And I can take it better than either of them. I can take it like nobody else on this roster can take it. And if I need to choke this hatred out of you, I will. I will beat and slam and bend and stretch and strike and suplex you until you can’t move, I will spin your spine into a damn ampersand, and when you can’t take that pain anymore, when the hurt chokes you from consciousness…I will be the first man there to pull you back to your feet. Because I miss you, Spike. I miss the you I knew. And I’m not the only one who could use him back right about now.
This obsession you’ve got with the Man of Steel Championship…the way you’ve refashioned yourself around it, it’s just…wrong. It does not define you, you define it. You’ve had some of the most talented men in this company, in the entire world, take you on and be unable to tear it from your grasp. But they were all doing it for a different reason. They wanted the glory of defeating the God of Steel and taking that title. I want to be Man of Steel Champion, to be sure. It’s what I’ve wanted since I signed that first contract with IWF almost four years ago. But more than that, more than any of the other men who you’ve fended off to keep that title around your waist?
I want my friend back. And I will go to any means necessary to bring him back to the light. There’s good in you, Spike. I’m going to find it again. Fight with me. Bleed with me. Stand with me. But know that I won’t give up. So if you want to silence me, you’re going to have to do more than you did with Johnny. You’re going to have to finish the job. And then, when we’re done here, we’re going to do what we should have done a long, long time ago.
We’re getting your son back.
Well howdy there pardner.