Post by Cable Arcane on May 28, 2017 19:09:34 GMT
Interlude Two
Most people didn’t understand why I was so pissed off when I returned to nationally televised professional wrestling. They saw me as just “playing the heel.”
Sorry, this is my story and I’m not going to honor kayfabe.
The “casuals” as we call them in the business just see me being a dick and think I’m playing the role of the bad guy in this eternal story of good versus evil but if I’m being honest, I’ve never been good at playing a part. That’s why my first run in IWF went south, I didn’t enjoy what they were having me do and so I failed. Then I made my name outside of that lovely company and when they came calling, well the ball was in my court.
The thing is I had every right to be pissed off. The same people who were cheering for their so called independent darling making his triumphant return in the 2016 Heir to the Throne were the same people who mocked me when I wore a mask and followed around Angel Blake for a few months. They were the same people who chanted that I couldn’t wrestle, that I was boring and every other wrestling cliché chant you’ve ever heard when channel surfing on a Monday Night.
Why the hell should I kiss their ass?
Just because they appreciated my hard work on the independents?
Most of the people watching Sacrifice or even reading this story have no idea what real hard work is. They have no idea what real suffering is. They’ve never experienced hard ship like I have and I’m sorry if this is a cold right hand across your jaw of truth but it’s a fact.
You think we just show up Monday morning, we’re handed a script or a match listing and then we just wait around until it’s our time to step out to the ring. The fact of the matter is most of us slept less than three hours the night before, since there would have been a house show that we are all required to be at regardless if we are being used. Those shows end between ten and eleven o’clock and after a brisk shower and a change we are right back in our rental car headed to the airport or the next arena.
That’s another thing people get misconstrued about professional wrestling. You see us on television so automatically you all think we are these huge celebrities making millions of dollars when in fact only the top guys make decent money and even then we pay for our own air fare, our own hotels, our own rental cars and food and medical bills.
Think about that.
We wrestle upwards of four times a week and we pay for own medical bills. Is it any wonder why a man like Falcon wrestles with a broken neck or Nighthawk has been doing this borderline crippled for so long? We need money just as much as anyone and I’m sorry, a couple hundred bucks a match is nothing when you’ve got to pay your way to the next show.
However most of us aren’t bothered by any of that. Most of us love this business and the fans so much that we take it on the chin with a smile even as they wheel us into surgery for another spinal fusion. We love you so much we are basically willing to kill ourselves for your adulation.
That’s why I was so pissed off when I came back to IWF.
No one respected me or cared about me before I was let go. I had to earn the love of the crowd by killing myself in the independents, honing my craft and my skills until it was insulting that I wasn’t the Imperial Champion.
It truly hit me when I made my return to IWF… Why did I care so much about what anyone else thought? I lied to myself and I had played a character and it got me nowhere. But when I started being me, when I started focusing on only what I wanted is when my career made a change for the better. I know some of you are going to see this as selfish and to that I laugh. Having gone through what I’ve gone through I can’t do what I do for anyone else but me.
Ultimately that’s a lesson I want to pass on to everyone reading this.
Love me or hate me you have to live your life for you.
You can’t truly live a happy life trying to satisfy the whims of the masses because the masses have no idea what it is they want. That’s why they watch professional wrestling instead of taking part in it. They cheer for the average and the everyman because it reminds them of their own miserable little lives. Any one of them could step out their front door and turn things around just like Nighthawk or Andrew Jacobsen could but they chose to live their lives a certain way and that certain way will always leave them unsatisfied.
I do what I do for myself.
I wanted to be the Best in the World ever since the first time I saw a giant body slammed. I’m sorry if you don’t like me, I’m sorry if you think I’m some sort of villain but honestly? I’m just a guy doing what I love and it wasn’t until I stopped giving a damn about everyone else that I got good at it.
You’re the author of your story, write whatever fucking ending you want. I did.
Andrew…
I get why you don’t trust me. Seriously. I may not have taken part in the prison style beatings the House of Howlett dished out but I certainly did nothing to stop them. I simply sat back with the Imperial Championship and watched as Spike, Rob, Zasshu and Laura ran rough shod over this company.
Maybe I should have stood up and stopped them.
Maybe I should have sided with Nighthawk and all the others against them.
Maybe I should have done more than watch…
But why?
Why should I care about what they did and who they did it to? Why should I defend men who couldn’t defend themselves? Why should I risk my health and well being for someone who never gave a damn about me? Say what you want about the House of Howlett but despite everything that has happened, Laura was the only person who cared enough to pick me up when I was down.
Sure, it was all about money for her, she saw my ability and monopolized it but that’s more than anyone else ever saw in Cable Arcane. I didn’t see Nighthawk chomping at the bit to train me, Falcon wasn’t breaking down my door looking for a protégé, Warren Kane didn’t want to be besties so when they came into the cross hairs of the House why should I defend them?
To be the better man?
That’s something a fool would say. History is written by the winners not the better men.
America slaughtered just as many innocents as the Germans but we are remembered as the heroes of World War 2. The North was by far more savage than the South during the Civil War but the North is always portrayed as the heroes. In this world being the better man means nothing, you’re either a winner or a loser.
I’m a winner.
You’re a loser.
And by trying to paint me as anything other than that is a mistake. I’m not some villain to be conquered, some great force of evil in face paint and black leather. I’m a man who has surpassed his own limits and become something truly great in this business. I did it without theatrics and bullshit. I dominated this business inside of the ring. I didn’t need to literally crucify people or set them on fire or throw them through tables. I stepped into a ring and physically dominated every man I have ever come across.
If that makes me a bad guy then I’m sorry you have such a skewed view of the world.
I’m what everyone should aspire to be, you included. For nearly a decade Andrew Jacobsen has been a man regarded as good but not great. You put on excellent matches, showcases but you are not thought of when the discussion of who is the best comes up. You’re not even in the top ten. You’re the modern day Nighthawk, a good wrestler but not the best.
Not. The. Best.
You’re a showman. A spectacle. A good hand. That’s all you will ever be because you look at this business through the same blinders as the people in the crowd. You see good guys and bad guys, heroes and villains when in fact we are all just people trying to make a living. I don’t see white and black when I look at the men and women I work with. Even Roberto Verona, someone who has made it a point to fuck with me, I understand why and to me, he isn’t a bad guy. He’s just an asshole who needs his ego stroked but refuses to step in the ring with me and prove his own worth.
You fail because you think you need to be the hero.
You don’t, Andrew.
You don’t need to be Superman, that is a weight you put on your own shoulders and a weight you could easily shed. I did, a long time ago. I stopped worrying about what people thought of me and started wrestling for myself. I knew what I wanted and I knew what it was going to take to get there. And I got there. I’m the only two time Imperial Champion in the history of this company. I’m hands down the Best in the World today. I am the man everyone wants to beat.
I am the man everyone should want to be.
You can’t argue my success. You can’t argue my results.
History is written by the winners and all I’ve done is win.
I don’t try to play to the crowd. I don’t shill my own merchandise. I don’t play up tired clichés. I step into the ring and do my job better than anyone in the world today. That’s it. If you want to view that as evil and wrong then I pity you. I pity your incompetence. I pity your almost selfish need for acceptance. The fact is the people in the crowd you work so hard to please will forget about you. They will move on to the next technical wrestling God to join IWF and eventually you will find yourself in the same position as Nighthawk and Falcon.
Two broken old men clinging to the past.
Never great, just good hands.
Just good enough.
That’s you Andrew, just good enough to get in the ring with me but you will never beat me. You will never win. You will put up a good fight, you will entertain the crowd and you will eventually fail. You will fall victim to your own hero mentality, thinking of me as a villain to be stopped when in fact I’m just a man living and fighting for his dream.
A man who lets absolutely nothing get in the way of his dreams.
I am the Best in the World.
You’re just a good hand.
And at Night of the Immortals you learn the difference between the two.
No sleep. No rest. No mercy.
Sorry.
I get why you don’t trust me. Seriously. I may not have taken part in the prison style beatings the House of Howlett dished out but I certainly did nothing to stop them. I simply sat back with the Imperial Championship and watched as Spike, Rob, Zasshu and Laura ran rough shod over this company.
Maybe I should have stood up and stopped them.
Maybe I should have sided with Nighthawk and all the others against them.
Maybe I should have done more than watch…
But why?
Why should I care about what they did and who they did it to? Why should I defend men who couldn’t defend themselves? Why should I risk my health and well being for someone who never gave a damn about me? Say what you want about the House of Howlett but despite everything that has happened, Laura was the only person who cared enough to pick me up when I was down.
Sure, it was all about money for her, she saw my ability and monopolized it but that’s more than anyone else ever saw in Cable Arcane. I didn’t see Nighthawk chomping at the bit to train me, Falcon wasn’t breaking down my door looking for a protégé, Warren Kane didn’t want to be besties so when they came into the cross hairs of the House why should I defend them?
To be the better man?
That’s something a fool would say. History is written by the winners not the better men.
America slaughtered just as many innocents as the Germans but we are remembered as the heroes of World War 2. The North was by far more savage than the South during the Civil War but the North is always portrayed as the heroes. In this world being the better man means nothing, you’re either a winner or a loser.
I’m a winner.
You’re a loser.
And by trying to paint me as anything other than that is a mistake. I’m not some villain to be conquered, some great force of evil in face paint and black leather. I’m a man who has surpassed his own limits and become something truly great in this business. I did it without theatrics and bullshit. I dominated this business inside of the ring. I didn’t need to literally crucify people or set them on fire or throw them through tables. I stepped into a ring and physically dominated every man I have ever come across.
If that makes me a bad guy then I’m sorry you have such a skewed view of the world.
I’m what everyone should aspire to be, you included. For nearly a decade Andrew Jacobsen has been a man regarded as good but not great. You put on excellent matches, showcases but you are not thought of when the discussion of who is the best comes up. You’re not even in the top ten. You’re the modern day Nighthawk, a good wrestler but not the best.
Not. The. Best.
You’re a showman. A spectacle. A good hand. That’s all you will ever be because you look at this business through the same blinders as the people in the crowd. You see good guys and bad guys, heroes and villains when in fact we are all just people trying to make a living. I don’t see white and black when I look at the men and women I work with. Even Roberto Verona, someone who has made it a point to fuck with me, I understand why and to me, he isn’t a bad guy. He’s just an asshole who needs his ego stroked but refuses to step in the ring with me and prove his own worth.
You fail because you think you need to be the hero.
You don’t, Andrew.
You don’t need to be Superman, that is a weight you put on your own shoulders and a weight you could easily shed. I did, a long time ago. I stopped worrying about what people thought of me and started wrestling for myself. I knew what I wanted and I knew what it was going to take to get there. And I got there. I’m the only two time Imperial Champion in the history of this company. I’m hands down the Best in the World today. I am the man everyone wants to beat.
I am the man everyone should want to be.
You can’t argue my success. You can’t argue my results.
History is written by the winners and all I’ve done is win.
I don’t try to play to the crowd. I don’t shill my own merchandise. I don’t play up tired clichés. I step into the ring and do my job better than anyone in the world today. That’s it. If you want to view that as evil and wrong then I pity you. I pity your incompetence. I pity your almost selfish need for acceptance. The fact is the people in the crowd you work so hard to please will forget about you. They will move on to the next technical wrestling God to join IWF and eventually you will find yourself in the same position as Nighthawk and Falcon.
Two broken old men clinging to the past.
Never great, just good hands.
Just good enough.
That’s you Andrew, just good enough to get in the ring with me but you will never beat me. You will never win. You will put up a good fight, you will entertain the crowd and you will eventually fail. You will fall victim to your own hero mentality, thinking of me as a villain to be stopped when in fact I’m just a man living and fighting for his dream.
A man who lets absolutely nothing get in the way of his dreams.
I am the Best in the World.
You’re just a good hand.
And at Night of the Immortals you learn the difference between the two.
No sleep. No rest. No mercy.
Sorry.
Well howdy there pardner.