Post by Mike Laszlo on Mar 22, 2017 4:54:39 GMT
There’s this feeling I have deep down inside.
The scene fades in and I’m shown on the edge of an apron, staring down at the floor, the camera only capturing the edges of my eyebrows and a damn near straight down from the top of my head look of my face. I look focused, and I am. There’s a laser focus on the one thing I have yet to do in this company...win the Roulette. The motivation spilling from my lips.
A couple years ago I was in my prime. I was at the peak of my existence when I defeated Angel in the center of the ring, when I tapped him out in the center of the ring to win the IWF Imperial Championship.
I slowly look up with a confused look on my face.
What’s happened since is a different feeling. It’s something I’ve accused others of, and now, now that I’ve looked in a mirror and really studied myself, I too am guilty...of complacency.
I outstretch my hand, my index finger pointing to the right of me.
Since winning the Imperial Championship, yes, I’ve had my moments, winning the Joker In The Pack, headlining last year’s Night of the Immortals, beating the hell out of Rob Diamond.
But…
Other than those, what else have I done? What have I done to call myself “The Best...Period”?
I take a moment, in silence, and I think of how complacent I was. I wonder how I could let myself fall into such a pit of mediocrity. I was there not for myself, not to better my overall sense of worth, but to collect a check and in the process, help others get to where I wanted to be.
I became the stepping stone that I tried so hard to convince others they were. Renee Pleasant used me and Rob’s distraction to better his reign. Alex Jones tried to use my name to be a better version of himself, only to end up being a miserable self-loathing human being. Adam Knite used me to regain his prominence, and Dre Cutler used me to springboard into the limelight during the Heir To The Throne.
I hold my hands, fingertips first, into my chest, an admittance of guilt in my eyes.
And I simply let it roll off my back and LET it happen. I didn’t put up any resistance. I figured it was my spot in the company, and I accepted that at the time. I watched others get the exposure I wanted. I let others take my spot, a spot they had equally out of earning it as they had because I let them take it.
An muffled sigh comes from my body as I look back down at the floor, remembering the final events of my match in the Heir to the Throne. I remember the referee’s hand striking the mat for a third time, signifying the end of the match, but more importantly, signifying a need for change.
That moment, the very second the referee’s hand hit the mat a third time, and Dre Cutler’s hand was raised in victory was a sign, a beacon of light in the darkened ocean that was my auto-pilot mind at the time, a distress signal from my subconscious that I was no longer the man I wanted to be.
I shrug my shoulders.
So I took some time off. I took some time to look myself up and down in the mirror and make sure I change things, to make sure I better myself.
I point out to my side again.
I went back and I watched the tapes of the Mike Laszlo of old, the bleach blonde take no crap kind of guy who stood up to Angel and his lackeys, and kicked ass and took names until he twisted Angel into a pretzel and made him tap out. I rediscovered the passion deep down inside. I saw the tears in my eyes, the blood that came from open wounds, and the sweat that went into each and every moment of my ascension, and inside here…
I hold my hand to my heart.
...inside my heart, I could feel the fire burning brighter. I could feel the compassion I had for myself and this business and my position within it gaining strength over and over again. I watched myself on that television with the Imperial Championship high over my head and I paused the tape on that very moment, and I just sat there and stared at the screen.
I hold up my index finger and shake it back and forth.
It was then, that very second that I realized...the competitive fire in my heart never truly died; it never went out. All along I wanted to be the best this company, this damn business has ever seen. The passion, the fury, it burned, but the smoke got up here.
I point to my head.
The smoke clouded my way of thinking. I wanted to be the best, and for some time I believed my own hype. I believed I was due every single thing given to me because I had earned it with a fleeting moment a couple of years ago.
As I sat there on the couch and stared at the screen, me, as champion, it was like a vacuum went off in my head, an exhaust fan had sucked all the smoke away, and all that was left was the bright burning light of that passionate fire.
So I came back at Survival of the Fittest and chased off the House of Howlett with a baseball bat, not for the “good guys” in the ring, but for myself. I went out to that ring with the sole purpose of proving that I could be the guy again, the guy who won the Imperial Championship…
A smirk crawls across my face.
...and damn...it felt good.
===========================================
Title: Clouded Thoughts No More
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 12:19 AM Local Time
The scene opens and I’m on the mat that lays across the floor of the gym. I’m pushing myself up and down off the floor, a number not shouted out, but simply counted over in my head with each push up. I get to one hundred and before I can let myself down for one hundred and one, the footsteps of my lovely wife can be heard across the hardwood floor.
Alexis Caffrey: Hey.
I turned over, my backside planted on the mat as I look up into her lovely brown eyes that send my heart beating faster with each and every beat.
Mike Laszlo: What’s up? Mind tossing me that water?
She does as asked and has a seat on the bench adjacent to me.
Alexis Caffrey: I was just thinking of what you’re going to go through at High Stakes.
Mike Laszlo: You mean Steve Awesome? Please. Been there, done that.
She shook her head.
Alexis Caffrey: Not just Steve. You’re in the Roulette, and this is the most I’ve seen you focus on it of the couple times you’ve been involved.
Mike Laszlo: It’s true, I have been a little more focused on that. There’s something big on the line, and I don’t just mean the championship opportunity.
Her head did that cute little tilt thing as she squinted her eyes, clearly a little thrown off track.
Alexis Caffrey: What do you mean?
I stood up and turned my back to her as I took a sip of water before twisting the cap back on.
Mike Laszlo: I think of this whole thing as a reclamation project. This is a chance for me to show myself that I’m not the guy who went through the motions while other’s passed me by. This is my chance to show that I am what I say I am, “The Best...Period”. I watched tape of myself from beating Angel, and I saw the fire, and I realized that the things I’ve been doing lately have been leading to complacency, and I just can’t have that in my life...I’m better than that.
I turned and walked toward her, having a seat on the bench next to her.
Mike Laszlo: I let myself go, and after thinking it over, and having a long talk in the mirror with myself, I came to the realization that I can’t go through life with any bit of complacency. I need to do what I can, whether in life, or in wrestling, though the two are mutually tied together, to get better, and be better than I’ve ever been before.
I put my hand on her knee.
Mike Laszlo: I need to get back to being the Mike Laszlo who was hungry for absolutely any opportunity placed in front of him. I need to be the man who took on all comers and didn’t give a steaming pile of shit what I had to do to get to the top.
I pointed to my head.
Mike Laszlo: I got there and let it get to me up here. I let the fame and recognition cloud my judgement.
I point at her.
Mike Laszlo: And if anyone can understand that, it’s you. You’ve been to the top, just like me. You know what the pressure brings, the fame, the recognition. It’s a lot to handle, and I think once I got there, it was kind of an exhale. The competitive spirit was suppressed. The want to be better than the next guy perhaps, wasn’t as strong, due to the fact that belt said I was better than the rest.
I take a moment, another swig of water, and a deep breath...after swallowing.
Mike Laszlo: I think of this as a second chance to do things the right way, and there’s not a chance in Hell I plan on letting it pass me by.
I look at the floor, dangling the water bottle from side to side.
Mike Laszlo: I can’t.
I sat there for a moment, staring at the floor, watching the liquid in the clear plastic bottle sway from side to side. I then felt her arm wrap around my shoulders, and the side of her face press up against me. My head tilted toward her, my eyes looking down on her as I felt her grip tighten a bit.
Alexis Caffrey: I get it. I understand how much all of that can consume you, and I’m sorry I let you get complacent with yourself.
Mike Laszlo: It’s not…
Before I could finish, she cut me off.
Alexis Caffrey: No...it’s not my fault completely, but I was an enabler. I saw what it was doing, and rather than help you through it, I went along for the ride. The opposite of when it was my turn. You were there for me, and perhaps, through the lessons you learned, you helped keep me on a level playing field. I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you then, but…
She pulled off of my shoulder and looked into my eyes, and me into hers.
Alexis Caffrey: ...when you win the Roulette, when you go on to Night of the Immortals and beat whoever the champion is; when you prove to the world what I already know, that you ARE the best, I guarantee you with every fiber of my being, I will be by your side. WE will fight those pressures and any insecurities that come with them TOGETHER; and I will help you and support you in becoming the man you wish to become.
She stood up and kissed me on the forehead as I closed my eyes.
Alexis Caffrey: I’ll let you get back to your workout.
She started heading over to the stationary bike for her own late night workout, and I planted myself right back on the mat, in the same position I was in when she walked in. Before I could start though she called out my name.
Alexis Caffrey: Mike?
Mike Laszlo: Yeah?
Alexis Caffrey: Just know...the man I see before me...is the man I love regardless of what happens.
She blew me another kiss before climbing onto the bike. A smile crossed my face...things were getting better already.
===========================================
Trust me when I tell you, I’m not an idiot.
The scene comes back, and I’m still sitting on the apron of the ring. I reach up to my face and pull my hands back over my head, pulling the hood back with said action, my hair, now a little longer in length, falling back into place atop my head. I look into the camera with a purpose, a sense of knowing as it were.
And trust me when I tell you this isn’t the course plotting, read the words off a script that you’ve heard recently from others who have comeback only to crash and burn. I don’t expect a damn thing anymore.
Does my name carry value? Sure it does, and I’m not oblivious to that either.
But, when I walked back through the doors of Quicken Loans Arena in my hometown of Cleveland, I did so with a perception change, an epiphany as it were.
I walked into that building with the perception that I can’t rest on that name value. I strolled down those halls, knowing that I was going to get a pop based on my name, and based on it being my hometown, but I also knew that I was going to have to go out to that ring and earn the respect of my peers, and the audience all over again...and I did.
I knew, coming back, there wouldn’t be instant title shots, I knew what I wanted to do, and that was make my name, all...over...again.
I hold my hands out as if holding a delicate trinket in my hands, that trinket, though invisible, just so happened to be…
And then came Steve Awesome, fresh off his beating of Rob Diamond. Steve recognized my name value, he recognized the profile we could put together, and when we both came out to announce our intentions of entering the Roulette, a spark clicked. We’ve spouted off and hit each other with our best shots, sure, but in the end, this really is nothing more than what we say it is, “a competitive, friendly, rivalry”.
This was my opportunity to show the world that I could hang with one of the most talented wrestlers in the business, and I’ll pat myself on the back and tell you’ve...I’ve done more than that on multiple occasions, and will do so again at High Stakes.
Beating Steve though, has done more than proven my superiority in those matches, it’s given me a lift that has boosted me to believe that when I walk down that ramp at whatever number I choose, again, after beating Steve, that I’ll do so knowing that I am absolutely going to win.
I stand from the apron, only to lean against it, my arms held outward to either side as the camera zooms out a bit.
All of this has a purpose. The long hours of training, the late nights at the gym. This isn’t a reach for the spotlight I once had, but for the desire, the competitive fuel, the motivation I once had. This isn’t to keep younger talent down, it’s to show the world what I know, that I’m more than capable of succeeding when I put my mind to it.
All of this is the acclimation of the man I want to become, better than any previous version, better than any other man in that ring come High Stakes, the BEST...PERIOD!
I roll into the ring and stand to my feet, making motions of throwing people over the top rope.
It doesn’t matter which member of the roster you are...THIS IS YOUR FATE!
SPIKE KANE!
Tossing motion.
NIGHTHAWK!
Tossing motion.
ANDREW JACOBSEN!
Tossing motion.
AND ALL THE REST!
Tossing motion.
It simply doesn’t matter.
I walk to the ropes and dangle my hands on the top rope by the wrist.
The number of people I have to go through...doesn’t matter.
The names of those people...don’t matter.
All that matters is the completion of a mission; a mission with simple objectives. I WILL be the last man standing at the end of the night! I WILL win the 2017 Roulette! I WILL headline Night of the Immortals! I WILL become the I.W.F. IMPERIAL CHAMPION...AGAIN!
I climb out of the ring, my feet hitting the padded floor, and my body turning to the camera.
And just like when I won the Imperial Championship the first time; just like when I returned at Survival of the Fittest...it WILL...feel SO...DAMN...GOOD!
I walk off out of the scene as it fades to black.
The scene fades in and I’m shown on the edge of an apron, staring down at the floor, the camera only capturing the edges of my eyebrows and a damn near straight down from the top of my head look of my face. I look focused, and I am. There’s a laser focus on the one thing I have yet to do in this company...win the Roulette. The motivation spilling from my lips.
A couple years ago I was in my prime. I was at the peak of my existence when I defeated Angel in the center of the ring, when I tapped him out in the center of the ring to win the IWF Imperial Championship.
I slowly look up with a confused look on my face.
What’s happened since is a different feeling. It’s something I’ve accused others of, and now, now that I’ve looked in a mirror and really studied myself, I too am guilty...of complacency.
I outstretch my hand, my index finger pointing to the right of me.
Since winning the Imperial Championship, yes, I’ve had my moments, winning the Joker In The Pack, headlining last year’s Night of the Immortals, beating the hell out of Rob Diamond.
But…
Other than those, what else have I done? What have I done to call myself “The Best...Period”?
I take a moment, in silence, and I think of how complacent I was. I wonder how I could let myself fall into such a pit of mediocrity. I was there not for myself, not to better my overall sense of worth, but to collect a check and in the process, help others get to where I wanted to be.
I became the stepping stone that I tried so hard to convince others they were. Renee Pleasant used me and Rob’s distraction to better his reign. Alex Jones tried to use my name to be a better version of himself, only to end up being a miserable self-loathing human being. Adam Knite used me to regain his prominence, and Dre Cutler used me to springboard into the limelight during the Heir To The Throne.
I hold my hands, fingertips first, into my chest, an admittance of guilt in my eyes.
And I simply let it roll off my back and LET it happen. I didn’t put up any resistance. I figured it was my spot in the company, and I accepted that at the time. I watched others get the exposure I wanted. I let others take my spot, a spot they had equally out of earning it as they had because I let them take it.
An muffled sigh comes from my body as I look back down at the floor, remembering the final events of my match in the Heir to the Throne. I remember the referee’s hand striking the mat for a third time, signifying the end of the match, but more importantly, signifying a need for change.
That moment, the very second the referee’s hand hit the mat a third time, and Dre Cutler’s hand was raised in victory was a sign, a beacon of light in the darkened ocean that was my auto-pilot mind at the time, a distress signal from my subconscious that I was no longer the man I wanted to be.
I shrug my shoulders.
So I took some time off. I took some time to look myself up and down in the mirror and make sure I change things, to make sure I better myself.
I point out to my side again.
I went back and I watched the tapes of the Mike Laszlo of old, the bleach blonde take no crap kind of guy who stood up to Angel and his lackeys, and kicked ass and took names until he twisted Angel into a pretzel and made him tap out. I rediscovered the passion deep down inside. I saw the tears in my eyes, the blood that came from open wounds, and the sweat that went into each and every moment of my ascension, and inside here…
I hold my hand to my heart.
...inside my heart, I could feel the fire burning brighter. I could feel the compassion I had for myself and this business and my position within it gaining strength over and over again. I watched myself on that television with the Imperial Championship high over my head and I paused the tape on that very moment, and I just sat there and stared at the screen.
I hold up my index finger and shake it back and forth.
It was then, that very second that I realized...the competitive fire in my heart never truly died; it never went out. All along I wanted to be the best this company, this damn business has ever seen. The passion, the fury, it burned, but the smoke got up here.
I point to my head.
The smoke clouded my way of thinking. I wanted to be the best, and for some time I believed my own hype. I believed I was due every single thing given to me because I had earned it with a fleeting moment a couple of years ago.
As I sat there on the couch and stared at the screen, me, as champion, it was like a vacuum went off in my head, an exhaust fan had sucked all the smoke away, and all that was left was the bright burning light of that passionate fire.
So I came back at Survival of the Fittest and chased off the House of Howlett with a baseball bat, not for the “good guys” in the ring, but for myself. I went out to that ring with the sole purpose of proving that I could be the guy again, the guy who won the Imperial Championship…
A smirk crawls across my face.
...and damn...it felt good.
===========================================
Title: Clouded Thoughts No More
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 12:19 AM Local Time
The scene opens and I’m on the mat that lays across the floor of the gym. I’m pushing myself up and down off the floor, a number not shouted out, but simply counted over in my head with each push up. I get to one hundred and before I can let myself down for one hundred and one, the footsteps of my lovely wife can be heard across the hardwood floor.
Alexis Caffrey: Hey.
I turned over, my backside planted on the mat as I look up into her lovely brown eyes that send my heart beating faster with each and every beat.
Mike Laszlo: What’s up? Mind tossing me that water?
She does as asked and has a seat on the bench adjacent to me.
Alexis Caffrey: I was just thinking of what you’re going to go through at High Stakes.
Mike Laszlo: You mean Steve Awesome? Please. Been there, done that.
She shook her head.
Alexis Caffrey: Not just Steve. You’re in the Roulette, and this is the most I’ve seen you focus on it of the couple times you’ve been involved.
Mike Laszlo: It’s true, I have been a little more focused on that. There’s something big on the line, and I don’t just mean the championship opportunity.
Her head did that cute little tilt thing as she squinted her eyes, clearly a little thrown off track.
Alexis Caffrey: What do you mean?
I stood up and turned my back to her as I took a sip of water before twisting the cap back on.
Mike Laszlo: I think of this whole thing as a reclamation project. This is a chance for me to show myself that I’m not the guy who went through the motions while other’s passed me by. This is my chance to show that I am what I say I am, “The Best...Period”. I watched tape of myself from beating Angel, and I saw the fire, and I realized that the things I’ve been doing lately have been leading to complacency, and I just can’t have that in my life...I’m better than that.
I turned and walked toward her, having a seat on the bench next to her.
Mike Laszlo: I let myself go, and after thinking it over, and having a long talk in the mirror with myself, I came to the realization that I can’t go through life with any bit of complacency. I need to do what I can, whether in life, or in wrestling, though the two are mutually tied together, to get better, and be better than I’ve ever been before.
I put my hand on her knee.
Mike Laszlo: I need to get back to being the Mike Laszlo who was hungry for absolutely any opportunity placed in front of him. I need to be the man who took on all comers and didn’t give a steaming pile of shit what I had to do to get to the top.
I pointed to my head.
Mike Laszlo: I got there and let it get to me up here. I let the fame and recognition cloud my judgement.
I point at her.
Mike Laszlo: And if anyone can understand that, it’s you. You’ve been to the top, just like me. You know what the pressure brings, the fame, the recognition. It’s a lot to handle, and I think once I got there, it was kind of an exhale. The competitive spirit was suppressed. The want to be better than the next guy perhaps, wasn’t as strong, due to the fact that belt said I was better than the rest.
I take a moment, another swig of water, and a deep breath...after swallowing.
Mike Laszlo: I think of this as a second chance to do things the right way, and there’s not a chance in Hell I plan on letting it pass me by.
I look at the floor, dangling the water bottle from side to side.
Mike Laszlo: I can’t.
I sat there for a moment, staring at the floor, watching the liquid in the clear plastic bottle sway from side to side. I then felt her arm wrap around my shoulders, and the side of her face press up against me. My head tilted toward her, my eyes looking down on her as I felt her grip tighten a bit.
Alexis Caffrey: I get it. I understand how much all of that can consume you, and I’m sorry I let you get complacent with yourself.
Mike Laszlo: It’s not…
Before I could finish, she cut me off.
Alexis Caffrey: No...it’s not my fault completely, but I was an enabler. I saw what it was doing, and rather than help you through it, I went along for the ride. The opposite of when it was my turn. You were there for me, and perhaps, through the lessons you learned, you helped keep me on a level playing field. I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you then, but…
She pulled off of my shoulder and looked into my eyes, and me into hers.
Alexis Caffrey: ...when you win the Roulette, when you go on to Night of the Immortals and beat whoever the champion is; when you prove to the world what I already know, that you ARE the best, I guarantee you with every fiber of my being, I will be by your side. WE will fight those pressures and any insecurities that come with them TOGETHER; and I will help you and support you in becoming the man you wish to become.
She stood up and kissed me on the forehead as I closed my eyes.
Alexis Caffrey: I’ll let you get back to your workout.
She started heading over to the stationary bike for her own late night workout, and I planted myself right back on the mat, in the same position I was in when she walked in. Before I could start though she called out my name.
Alexis Caffrey: Mike?
Mike Laszlo: Yeah?
Alexis Caffrey: Just know...the man I see before me...is the man I love regardless of what happens.
She blew me another kiss before climbing onto the bike. A smile crossed my face...things were getting better already.
===========================================
Trust me when I tell you, I’m not an idiot.
The scene comes back, and I’m still sitting on the apron of the ring. I reach up to my face and pull my hands back over my head, pulling the hood back with said action, my hair, now a little longer in length, falling back into place atop my head. I look into the camera with a purpose, a sense of knowing as it were.
And trust me when I tell you this isn’t the course plotting, read the words off a script that you’ve heard recently from others who have comeback only to crash and burn. I don’t expect a damn thing anymore.
Does my name carry value? Sure it does, and I’m not oblivious to that either.
But, when I walked back through the doors of Quicken Loans Arena in my hometown of Cleveland, I did so with a perception change, an epiphany as it were.
I walked into that building with the perception that I can’t rest on that name value. I strolled down those halls, knowing that I was going to get a pop based on my name, and based on it being my hometown, but I also knew that I was going to have to go out to that ring and earn the respect of my peers, and the audience all over again...and I did.
I knew, coming back, there wouldn’t be instant title shots, I knew what I wanted to do, and that was make my name, all...over...again.
I hold my hands out as if holding a delicate trinket in my hands, that trinket, though invisible, just so happened to be…
And then came Steve Awesome, fresh off his beating of Rob Diamond. Steve recognized my name value, he recognized the profile we could put together, and when we both came out to announce our intentions of entering the Roulette, a spark clicked. We’ve spouted off and hit each other with our best shots, sure, but in the end, this really is nothing more than what we say it is, “a competitive, friendly, rivalry”.
This was my opportunity to show the world that I could hang with one of the most talented wrestlers in the business, and I’ll pat myself on the back and tell you’ve...I’ve done more than that on multiple occasions, and will do so again at High Stakes.
Beating Steve though, has done more than proven my superiority in those matches, it’s given me a lift that has boosted me to believe that when I walk down that ramp at whatever number I choose, again, after beating Steve, that I’ll do so knowing that I am absolutely going to win.
I stand from the apron, only to lean against it, my arms held outward to either side as the camera zooms out a bit.
All of this has a purpose. The long hours of training, the late nights at the gym. This isn’t a reach for the spotlight I once had, but for the desire, the competitive fuel, the motivation I once had. This isn’t to keep younger talent down, it’s to show the world what I know, that I’m more than capable of succeeding when I put my mind to it.
All of this is the acclimation of the man I want to become, better than any previous version, better than any other man in that ring come High Stakes, the BEST...PERIOD!
I roll into the ring and stand to my feet, making motions of throwing people over the top rope.
It doesn’t matter which member of the roster you are...THIS IS YOUR FATE!
SPIKE KANE!
Tossing motion.
NIGHTHAWK!
Tossing motion.
ANDREW JACOBSEN!
Tossing motion.
AND ALL THE REST!
Tossing motion.
It simply doesn’t matter.
I walk to the ropes and dangle my hands on the top rope by the wrist.
The number of people I have to go through...doesn’t matter.
The names of those people...don’t matter.
All that matters is the completion of a mission; a mission with simple objectives. I WILL be the last man standing at the end of the night! I WILL win the 2017 Roulette! I WILL headline Night of the Immortals! I WILL become the I.W.F. IMPERIAL CHAMPION...AGAIN!
I climb out of the ring, my feet hitting the padded floor, and my body turning to the camera.
And just like when I won the Imperial Championship the first time; just like when I returned at Survival of the Fittest...it WILL...feel SO...DAMN...GOOD!
I walk off out of the scene as it fades to black.