Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Dec 22, 2012 2:28:52 GMT -6
”There are a couple of moments that you never forget. Your first bike ride, your first kiss, your graduation…your first match, your first win, your first title…your first World Title…and for me, the night that I lost that first World Title.”
“That was because of you, Roberto. You pinned me to the mat one-two-three. Fair and square. And I wasn’t bitter about it, because I’d lost to the better man. That you’d made a deal with Kelly Knite to become her new corporate rubber-stamped champion afterward didn’t change the fact that the only person who beat me was Roberto Verona. You were the better man. And I respect that.”
“You’re still a good man. You’re a damn good wrestler. Which is why it sticks right in my craw that you use the tactics you do. You don’t need to cheat to win, you’re talented enough to beat any man on this roster. Don’t believe me, people? Ask Alex Jones if he’s good enough. Fact of the matter is, I see a lot of me in Roberto Verona. I see some of the stuff that I squash down and I don’t listen to, but it’s there. He’s a damn talented wrestler, and it’s a shame that what he’s done and the course that he’s taken have somehow invalidated everything he’s accomplished in a lot of people’s eyes.”
“But then, these same men were decrying me as a fraud and a hack. I’m pretty sure Alex Jones wished the damn bubonic plague on me. Mike Laszlo was stirring the pot for both of us the night we won the belt. So let me say this loud and proud: I believe in Roberto Verona. I may not agree with what he’s done and how he’s gone about effecting change, but I believe in what he represents. He’s right. We’re a new era. And if he wants to cast himself as the counterpoint to me, if his role in the play of life means he’s got to be a bastard, then…he’s that kind of man now.”
“Knowing that, however, doesn’t take the bitter taste of defeat out of my mouth. That loss has burned in my mind for a month and a half. Knowing that he’s the man that won that title from me, and that the only person I can blame for losing is myself…even given who I lost it to, it’s a hard thing to deal with. So I look at this match as a chance for closure. I have a chance to avenge a loss, pin the World Champion, and remind those who would look down on me just what kind of threat I am.”
“Bit sad that I have to do that, but what can you do? Some people you just can’t please…and it disappoints me. The moving the goalposts, that is. The idea that somehow, nothing is good enough to launch us into that upper echelon of respect reserved for people like Steve Awesome and Adam Knite.”
“What’s that, you say? We’re the new era? Sorry, Roberto, but the changeover isn’t as complete as you might think. Adam, Conway, even Xander and Gib, they’re as much old guard as Steve and Ricky. The difference there is that you’re at least temporarily allied with them, and so conveniently they escape the verbal torch. You’re an effective bastard, Roberto. People hate you. They love to hate you. But your mistake is in thinking that your path is the one for me. See…like I told your ‘friend’ Jake and I’ll tell you…this isn’t an act.”
“My image is exactly the way it is not out of design but out of that being how I behave. It’s not hurting me to be the way I am. It strengthens me, actually. It gives me a center. It gives me something more to fight for. If I’m fighting for myself, that’s one man. And I’m not the sort of person that can only fight for one man. They’re my strength. They’re my reason. Every single time I step through the curtains and hear them…it’s a shot in the arm, another reason to go on.”
“And I’m sure I’ll get people telling me how painfully generic this is, how fifty dozen men before me have said the exact same thing. I don’t give a damn what they’ve said. That doesn’t invalidate me. It’s a point of commonality, nothing more. You want to whine about what kind of man I am? I’m sorry I’m not interesting enough to you. If you want sub-frat boy comedy, you can tune to other people. I may not be your speed, but that’s fine. Can’t please everyone.”
“But being who and what I am, that’s enough for a lot of people. They like what they see, and they like the idea I represent. I’m the hard-working boy who made his dreams come true. They want to believe. And I can give them something…someone…to believe in.”
“I’m here to entertain, on the most basic level, and that means that people have to want to watch. The best villains need a hero to play off of. Maybe I’m that hero for you, Roberto. Maybe I’m Jake’s, or someone else’s. But I know this much: when the bell rings and it’s you and me in that ring, I want absolutely everything you’ve got. I want to know that I’m getting everything from you. It’d eat me alive otherwise. This is all on us. Pressure’s on. Let’s give them one hell of a show.”
Open on Andrew sitting in his home and looking through a family photo album. He smiles as he flips through the pages, eyes passing over each picture and dredging up memories with every picture. Andrew looks at a photo from his graduation. He, in his cap and gown, stands between his parents, arms around them. He grins, remembering the day fondly, and moves on, seeing now a picture from Callie’s graduation party. Rick is in the background pulling a face at the camera, and both Jason and Andrea flank their daughter, who’s holding her diploma with a proud smile on her face. Andrew, nowhere to be seen in the photo, sighs and sets the album back down, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
”She’s not that little girl anymore, man…”
Andrew’s eyes track up the page to another photo, this one from a high school prom. The photo is of Emma Danielson and himself, both in formalwear, pulling goofy faces at the camera. Andrew grins again at that memory, but it fades slightly as he recalls how Emma’s situation has developed, especially as regards the Ace. He shakes his head yet again, but his thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell. Andrew stands and walks over, opening it to reveal Rick Jacobsen standing there. He walks in, unusually sober-faced for the normally jovial elder Jacobsen brother.
”Hey, Andy…we need to talk, and fast-like.”
Andrew nods, walking over to the couch and sitting back down. Rick sits next to him, noticing the photo album but not saying anything. The big man folds his hands together, hesitantly starting but growing in confidence as he speaks.
”Callie…this isn’t gonna end well and we both know it. And anything we do to convince her otherwise is going to push her away. I know, I’ve been in her shoes. I…I gotta know you’re gonna do everything you can for her. And, I have to make this clear…dude, if the best call means that she stays with NCW in some fashion, that’s just how it breaks down.”
Andrew shakes his head, almost willfully not listening to the big man.
”Rick…we both know that’s not the answer. There’s no universe in which that’s the answer. He’s playing her like a damn flute. But I say that to her and she’ll get all pissy. I…I want to believe in her, but it’s so hard to trust anything associated with Conway…”
Rick nods, musing. His eyes track back to the photo album, settling on one of Andrew and Danielle Chase together. Andrew has a huge smile on his face, and Chase looks happy to be with him. Andrew notices this, and hastily moves to close the album. Rick groans, shaking his head, and looks to his younger sibling.
”Even if you don’t talk to her again, you have to find someone. It’s not healthy to be cooped up and alone like this. You’re a funny guy, I read your Twitter. You should have no problem going out and meeting girls. And yeah, I know, “I’ll know she’s the one when I find her” and all that, but you’re not going to find her if this is how you spend your downtime. Take a shower, shave, get some nice clothes on, and hit the bar.”
The younger man opens his mouth to try to protest, but sighs, just nodding resignedly. Andrew runs a hand through his hair, sighing.
”I know…I know. I’m just sick of making the wrong steps and losing people, Rick. Danielle’s gone. She’s not coming back. No last-minute redemption, none of it. I screwed up one time too many and…and I’m afraid of making that mistake again.”
Rick chuckles, pulling his brother a bit closer and leaning over to impart some of his patented North Woods wisdom unto him.
”IF you’re afraid of failure, you won’t take any risks. No risk, no reward. Put yourself out there. Worst comes to worst, you pick yourself up and try again. You think I met Cassandra on the first run? This is gonna take time. But you start now, you might actually find someone before you start going grey.”
Andrew nods, smirking at the larger man, who finally cracks his patented goofy grin. AJ sighs, looking back down and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He speaks quietly, words those of a man who’s coming to grips with things he didn’t want to have to accept.
”Yeah, suppose so. Now, uh…I still need to get Christmas gifts, man…mind giving me a hand?”
Rick blinks, nodding, and Andrew pulls out his phone, both men looking at it as we fade to black.
”I’m not an act. I’m not a gimmick. Nothing of what I do is a put-on image. If it comes out of my mouth, I meant it 100%. I don’t believe in wasting words or deeds…you don’t get many of either.”
“I suppose what I’m trying to say is that when people tell me I need to start acting a certain way or dressing a certain way or drinking this ultra-spiffy protein shake, I don’t take them seriously. I don’t need lessons in how to behave. I am the man you see today, and if you can’t deal with that, my deepest sympathies.”
“I want to be World Champion again desperately. I want to hold something indisputable, something that can’t be diminished or marginalized. But sometimes, the important moment comes when you’re being given a little…well-intentioned, if misaimed, advice. When you’re being told to compromise your basic character for the sake of fast-tracking yourself. They tell you it’s the right path, it’s the one you should be taking. Well, there’s a quote I memorized a while back that…well, that sums up my response to everyone who’s ever told me that what I am is wrong.”
"Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world: no, you move."
“That’s something I hold very near and dear to my heart. Inspiring, really...the idea that our beliefs and morals are so inviolate that we can face down the world for them, and moreover we're obligated to do so. So Roberto, you can try to convince me to alter who I am. You can bluster and persuade all you want. But I’m going to plant myself right here. My roots are down. And I don’t think you’re going to be able to uproot me. Not this time. Give it your best shot, champ. I’ll be right here to push back. Good luck.”[/i]
“That was because of you, Roberto. You pinned me to the mat one-two-three. Fair and square. And I wasn’t bitter about it, because I’d lost to the better man. That you’d made a deal with Kelly Knite to become her new corporate rubber-stamped champion afterward didn’t change the fact that the only person who beat me was Roberto Verona. You were the better man. And I respect that.”
“You’re still a good man. You’re a damn good wrestler. Which is why it sticks right in my craw that you use the tactics you do. You don’t need to cheat to win, you’re talented enough to beat any man on this roster. Don’t believe me, people? Ask Alex Jones if he’s good enough. Fact of the matter is, I see a lot of me in Roberto Verona. I see some of the stuff that I squash down and I don’t listen to, but it’s there. He’s a damn talented wrestler, and it’s a shame that what he’s done and the course that he’s taken have somehow invalidated everything he’s accomplished in a lot of people’s eyes.”
“But then, these same men were decrying me as a fraud and a hack. I’m pretty sure Alex Jones wished the damn bubonic plague on me. Mike Laszlo was stirring the pot for both of us the night we won the belt. So let me say this loud and proud: I believe in Roberto Verona. I may not agree with what he’s done and how he’s gone about effecting change, but I believe in what he represents. He’s right. We’re a new era. And if he wants to cast himself as the counterpoint to me, if his role in the play of life means he’s got to be a bastard, then…he’s that kind of man now.”
“Knowing that, however, doesn’t take the bitter taste of defeat out of my mouth. That loss has burned in my mind for a month and a half. Knowing that he’s the man that won that title from me, and that the only person I can blame for losing is myself…even given who I lost it to, it’s a hard thing to deal with. So I look at this match as a chance for closure. I have a chance to avenge a loss, pin the World Champion, and remind those who would look down on me just what kind of threat I am.”
“Bit sad that I have to do that, but what can you do? Some people you just can’t please…and it disappoints me. The moving the goalposts, that is. The idea that somehow, nothing is good enough to launch us into that upper echelon of respect reserved for people like Steve Awesome and Adam Knite.”
“What’s that, you say? We’re the new era? Sorry, Roberto, but the changeover isn’t as complete as you might think. Adam, Conway, even Xander and Gib, they’re as much old guard as Steve and Ricky. The difference there is that you’re at least temporarily allied with them, and so conveniently they escape the verbal torch. You’re an effective bastard, Roberto. People hate you. They love to hate you. But your mistake is in thinking that your path is the one for me. See…like I told your ‘friend’ Jake and I’ll tell you…this isn’t an act.”
“My image is exactly the way it is not out of design but out of that being how I behave. It’s not hurting me to be the way I am. It strengthens me, actually. It gives me a center. It gives me something more to fight for. If I’m fighting for myself, that’s one man. And I’m not the sort of person that can only fight for one man. They’re my strength. They’re my reason. Every single time I step through the curtains and hear them…it’s a shot in the arm, another reason to go on.”
“And I’m sure I’ll get people telling me how painfully generic this is, how fifty dozen men before me have said the exact same thing. I don’t give a damn what they’ve said. That doesn’t invalidate me. It’s a point of commonality, nothing more. You want to whine about what kind of man I am? I’m sorry I’m not interesting enough to you. If you want sub-frat boy comedy, you can tune to other people. I may not be your speed, but that’s fine. Can’t please everyone.”
“But being who and what I am, that’s enough for a lot of people. They like what they see, and they like the idea I represent. I’m the hard-working boy who made his dreams come true. They want to believe. And I can give them something…someone…to believe in.”
“I’m here to entertain, on the most basic level, and that means that people have to want to watch. The best villains need a hero to play off of. Maybe I’m that hero for you, Roberto. Maybe I’m Jake’s, or someone else’s. But I know this much: when the bell rings and it’s you and me in that ring, I want absolutely everything you’ve got. I want to know that I’m getting everything from you. It’d eat me alive otherwise. This is all on us. Pressure’s on. Let’s give them one hell of a show.”
Open on Andrew sitting in his home and looking through a family photo album. He smiles as he flips through the pages, eyes passing over each picture and dredging up memories with every picture. Andrew looks at a photo from his graduation. He, in his cap and gown, stands between his parents, arms around them. He grins, remembering the day fondly, and moves on, seeing now a picture from Callie’s graduation party. Rick is in the background pulling a face at the camera, and both Jason and Andrea flank their daughter, who’s holding her diploma with a proud smile on her face. Andrew, nowhere to be seen in the photo, sighs and sets the album back down, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
”She’s not that little girl anymore, man…”
Andrew’s eyes track up the page to another photo, this one from a high school prom. The photo is of Emma Danielson and himself, both in formalwear, pulling goofy faces at the camera. Andrew grins again at that memory, but it fades slightly as he recalls how Emma’s situation has developed, especially as regards the Ace. He shakes his head yet again, but his thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell. Andrew stands and walks over, opening it to reveal Rick Jacobsen standing there. He walks in, unusually sober-faced for the normally jovial elder Jacobsen brother.
”Hey, Andy…we need to talk, and fast-like.”
Andrew nods, walking over to the couch and sitting back down. Rick sits next to him, noticing the photo album but not saying anything. The big man folds his hands together, hesitantly starting but growing in confidence as he speaks.
”Callie…this isn’t gonna end well and we both know it. And anything we do to convince her otherwise is going to push her away. I know, I’ve been in her shoes. I…I gotta know you’re gonna do everything you can for her. And, I have to make this clear…dude, if the best call means that she stays with NCW in some fashion, that’s just how it breaks down.”
Andrew shakes his head, almost willfully not listening to the big man.
”Rick…we both know that’s not the answer. There’s no universe in which that’s the answer. He’s playing her like a damn flute. But I say that to her and she’ll get all pissy. I…I want to believe in her, but it’s so hard to trust anything associated with Conway…”
Rick nods, musing. His eyes track back to the photo album, settling on one of Andrew and Danielle Chase together. Andrew has a huge smile on his face, and Chase looks happy to be with him. Andrew notices this, and hastily moves to close the album. Rick groans, shaking his head, and looks to his younger sibling.
”Even if you don’t talk to her again, you have to find someone. It’s not healthy to be cooped up and alone like this. You’re a funny guy, I read your Twitter. You should have no problem going out and meeting girls. And yeah, I know, “I’ll know she’s the one when I find her” and all that, but you’re not going to find her if this is how you spend your downtime. Take a shower, shave, get some nice clothes on, and hit the bar.”
The younger man opens his mouth to try to protest, but sighs, just nodding resignedly. Andrew runs a hand through his hair, sighing.
”I know…I know. I’m just sick of making the wrong steps and losing people, Rick. Danielle’s gone. She’s not coming back. No last-minute redemption, none of it. I screwed up one time too many and…and I’m afraid of making that mistake again.”
Rick chuckles, pulling his brother a bit closer and leaning over to impart some of his patented North Woods wisdom unto him.
”IF you’re afraid of failure, you won’t take any risks. No risk, no reward. Put yourself out there. Worst comes to worst, you pick yourself up and try again. You think I met Cassandra on the first run? This is gonna take time. But you start now, you might actually find someone before you start going grey.”
Andrew nods, smirking at the larger man, who finally cracks his patented goofy grin. AJ sighs, looking back down and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He speaks quietly, words those of a man who’s coming to grips with things he didn’t want to have to accept.
”Yeah, suppose so. Now, uh…I still need to get Christmas gifts, man…mind giving me a hand?”
Rick blinks, nodding, and Andrew pulls out his phone, both men looking at it as we fade to black.
”I’m not an act. I’m not a gimmick. Nothing of what I do is a put-on image. If it comes out of my mouth, I meant it 100%. I don’t believe in wasting words or deeds…you don’t get many of either.”
“I suppose what I’m trying to say is that when people tell me I need to start acting a certain way or dressing a certain way or drinking this ultra-spiffy protein shake, I don’t take them seriously. I don’t need lessons in how to behave. I am the man you see today, and if you can’t deal with that, my deepest sympathies.”
“I want to be World Champion again desperately. I want to hold something indisputable, something that can’t be diminished or marginalized. But sometimes, the important moment comes when you’re being given a little…well-intentioned, if misaimed, advice. When you’re being told to compromise your basic character for the sake of fast-tracking yourself. They tell you it’s the right path, it’s the one you should be taking. Well, there’s a quote I memorized a while back that…well, that sums up my response to everyone who’s ever told me that what I am is wrong.”
"Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world: no, you move."
“That’s something I hold very near and dear to my heart. Inspiring, really...the idea that our beliefs and morals are so inviolate that we can face down the world for them, and moreover we're obligated to do so. So Roberto, you can try to convince me to alter who I am. You can bluster and persuade all you want. But I’m going to plant myself right here. My roots are down. And I don’t think you’re going to be able to uproot me. Not this time. Give it your best shot, champ. I’ll be right here to push back. Good luck.”[/i]