Post by Brad Kane on Feb 22, 2010 14:41:55 GMT -6
Not unlike recent times, the handheld camera just isn't focusing on Brad Kane's face or a wall. Instead, its a hospital room. Brad has it focused in on a newborn baby. A little girl. All his other kids are gathered around the newborn, all staring at her. The basket has her name, Sasha Hope Kane. A few moments later all the kids, save for the new baby and Megan in her bed leave the room. Brad's basically alone. He flips his camera around.
"Last night was something to behold. Seeing another child being born is something that makes me feel happy, makes me feel alive. Seeing a child coming out of the mother is a cycle. I'm sure someone passed away the very moment that my newest daughter, Sasha, was born. That's just how life works. One is born, one is taken away. Such is the order of all things. Someone gets the gift of being an athlete, someone gets the displeasure of not knowing how to dribble a basketball.
But this order, this order of life can strike as the unfairest of times. Saturday night, people had to win, people had to lose. I did what I said I was going to do. I made Freakke slap his hand on the mat repeatedly because he couldn't take the pain anymore. He had to let the entire world know that he couldn't manage to keep his fight going, that he was throwing in his towel for that night.
However, there was a travesty at the end of the evening regarding a man who has been like a brother to me. A man who gave his blood, his sweat and his tears for this promotion. A man who made this promotion into what it is because of his hard work, his determination and what do you to do celebrate this man who I've had a storied past with?"
Brad pauses for a moment, trying to keep his composure as usual. But this strikes home a little bit more then most things do.
"You fired Lance Ryan on national TV because he was questioning management, I assume. For a man who just questions and wants to poke and prod their decisions, where does this leave me? If Lance was fired because he doesn't care for decisions made by those guys in the back, when is it going to be my time to hear those two words.
See, those two words, they'd do one of two things. Best case, my soul is set free and I can finally let my issues with this horrid promotion gone for the rest of my life and we can ignore each other in bliss. Worst case, well, I think we can leave that one up to our imaginations because it wouldn't be pretty. So many innocent lives put into that crossfire. All that national media attention brought to this promotion that doesn't deserve the attention, at all."
Another pause. His eyes are fixated directly into the camera, like he's staring through you.
"But after beating Freakke like the retard that he is, I get to do it again, albeit in a different setting. What was this promotion thinking this time around? Eight man elimination match? That's six more besides Freakke that you're offering as a sacrifice so I keep my calm, keep my cool so I don't grab that 'flamethrower' and burn this place to the ground.
Already know what'll be said about me. I whine, I should leave, I should shut up, I should take a lethal dose of meds and just fall into a pit and die. Did I cover it pretty well for you? Can you come up with something new and perhaps original for once or will you prove me right? I mean, Freakke already went down this road and look at what happened. I mentioned it earlier, his hand slapping like a little bitch because he doesn't know how to tolerate pain."
He swings the camera over towards his wife.
"That woman, right there, laying in that bed knows more about pain then any single one of us in nCw. She's pushed out five kids without hardly anything to dull the pain. Megan didn't want it that way. She wanted to take the pain, she wanted to feel alive. But last night, after she woke up from having to give birth, she looked at me with her beautiful eyes and asked me one simple question.
She wanted to know if I had finished with this place yet. I think more then any of you, she wants this over and done with. She wants me to forget about this place, put it in the past but I don't know if I can allow that. Not after what you did to Lance Ryan, that man who gave some of the best years of his fading career to a place that threw him to the wayside like he was yesterday's trash.
When I walk into that ring Sunday night. I really don't know what I'll be doing. Win, lose, it doesn't matter to me. The only thing that matters is that I make her happy. That I give into her wishes. That I obey her every single command.
Call me a blind puppy, call me whipped but this promotion is insignificant to what I see every night when I go to sleep. If you can't understand that.
Go **** off and die."
Fade.
"Last night was something to behold. Seeing another child being born is something that makes me feel happy, makes me feel alive. Seeing a child coming out of the mother is a cycle. I'm sure someone passed away the very moment that my newest daughter, Sasha, was born. That's just how life works. One is born, one is taken away. Such is the order of all things. Someone gets the gift of being an athlete, someone gets the displeasure of not knowing how to dribble a basketball.
But this order, this order of life can strike as the unfairest of times. Saturday night, people had to win, people had to lose. I did what I said I was going to do. I made Freakke slap his hand on the mat repeatedly because he couldn't take the pain anymore. He had to let the entire world know that he couldn't manage to keep his fight going, that he was throwing in his towel for that night.
However, there was a travesty at the end of the evening regarding a man who has been like a brother to me. A man who gave his blood, his sweat and his tears for this promotion. A man who made this promotion into what it is because of his hard work, his determination and what do you to do celebrate this man who I've had a storied past with?"
Brad pauses for a moment, trying to keep his composure as usual. But this strikes home a little bit more then most things do.
"You fired Lance Ryan on national TV because he was questioning management, I assume. For a man who just questions and wants to poke and prod their decisions, where does this leave me? If Lance was fired because he doesn't care for decisions made by those guys in the back, when is it going to be my time to hear those two words.
See, those two words, they'd do one of two things. Best case, my soul is set free and I can finally let my issues with this horrid promotion gone for the rest of my life and we can ignore each other in bliss. Worst case, well, I think we can leave that one up to our imaginations because it wouldn't be pretty. So many innocent lives put into that crossfire. All that national media attention brought to this promotion that doesn't deserve the attention, at all."
Another pause. His eyes are fixated directly into the camera, like he's staring through you.
"But after beating Freakke like the retard that he is, I get to do it again, albeit in a different setting. What was this promotion thinking this time around? Eight man elimination match? That's six more besides Freakke that you're offering as a sacrifice so I keep my calm, keep my cool so I don't grab that 'flamethrower' and burn this place to the ground.
Already know what'll be said about me. I whine, I should leave, I should shut up, I should take a lethal dose of meds and just fall into a pit and die. Did I cover it pretty well for you? Can you come up with something new and perhaps original for once or will you prove me right? I mean, Freakke already went down this road and look at what happened. I mentioned it earlier, his hand slapping like a little bitch because he doesn't know how to tolerate pain."
He swings the camera over towards his wife.
"That woman, right there, laying in that bed knows more about pain then any single one of us in nCw. She's pushed out five kids without hardly anything to dull the pain. Megan didn't want it that way. She wanted to take the pain, she wanted to feel alive. But last night, after she woke up from having to give birth, she looked at me with her beautiful eyes and asked me one simple question.
She wanted to know if I had finished with this place yet. I think more then any of you, she wants this over and done with. She wants me to forget about this place, put it in the past but I don't know if I can allow that. Not after what you did to Lance Ryan, that man who gave some of the best years of his fading career to a place that threw him to the wayside like he was yesterday's trash.
When I walk into that ring Sunday night. I really don't know what I'll be doing. Win, lose, it doesn't matter to me. The only thing that matters is that I make her happy. That I give into her wishes. That I obey her every single command.
Call me a blind puppy, call me whipped but this promotion is insignificant to what I see every night when I go to sleep. If you can't understand that.
Go **** off and die."
Fade.