Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Feb 25, 2010 23:31:55 GMT -6
“WOO! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!”
The action kicks off immediately in this Andrew Jacobsen promo as Andrew claps his hands, grinning. The camera refocuses, showing him walking down the hall of the FedEx Arena. The title shines on his shoulder as he walks, bouncing slightly.
“See, Paul? You're fired up, and that's what I wanted to see. I want to know that you're going full throttle. Yes, I questioned your heart. Yes, I insulted you and your match record. But that's because I want you to bring the heat. I want Paul Star fired up, not Paul Star curled in a corner. I told you to show me why you deserved to be X-Division Champion. You're showing me you've got the heart, Paul. Now show me you have the skill.”
He looks around, wary because of Jimmy Turner's annoying habit of interrupting promos with either his physical being or his body odor. Once Andrew's satisfied that there's no chance he'll run into the obnoxious janitor, he continues.
“Paul, I'm glad you're chomping at the bit for our match. And yes, I don't have a perfect record. But let's break down my losses? First: lost to Will Washington in a submission match. Okay, so maybe my ego brought this one on me, declaring I was a submission expert and all. But it was a hell of a match. That match took both of us to our limits, and I'm proud of my performance. Two losses in multi-man matches, never getting pinned in those. A Riot preview match, last elimination of the match. Lost to Angel, the world champion. And I lost a match because I got nailed in the back of the head by Bates' briefcase. Point is, Paul, I'm not going down easy. I know you've got the fire, and I know it'll be tough to weather. But I'm ready for it. Gib beat me the hell up, yes. But he didn't beat me down. Angel didn't beat me down. I see a lot of myself in you, Paul. I see that drive. And that's what I WANT to see. You know, I was wrong. Our past matches matter a lot. The fact is, I've never cleanly lost by pinfall. I've tapped once. That's it. You want to talk about feeling the fire? Ask Rob Diamond what it was like to burn in my light. Ask Kristoff Bates what it felt like to enter the ring with me and feel my wrath. Paul, you burn brightly, but I can burn just as bright as you if not more. You have something to prove by winning my title? I have as much to prove by retaining it. I will NOT be seen as a fluke champion.”
Andrew walks out to the arena floor, heading for the ring. He looks around at the guys setting up everything. Andrew briefly winces as he remembers what happened last time he was out there.
“...they better not be testing the pyro...anyway, Paul. You're a tough son of a bitch. But personally, I like you. I think we could have a great relationship outside the ring...but outside is where it'll have to stay for now. Come Sunday, I'm all business. Hell, I'm all business right now. Can't take ANYTHING lightly coming up to a pay-per-view, especially one where I'm defending my title. Train with Shane all you can, Paul. I'm working with Masahiro, Emma, Christoph, those guys. I won't accept anything less than your best.”
Andrew shakes his head, a rueful grin on his face.
“I envy you, Paul. You've got a woman who's in love with you and you're in love with her. Me...I've always had a problem with admitting things to people. I've had bad luck with love. I honestly wish you and Jennifer the best of luck with everything. One thing got to me...Jenny questioned my passion. She questioned my heart and my dedication. Now, I did what I did to get you fired up. But her? She doesn't know me. She doesn't know how I've bled, how I've sweated the past eight years to get to here. Since I was fifteen, still in high school, I've been training for this. I blew all my savings on a wrestling school because I knew that this was the only career for me. I've lived through barbed-wire hellholes and indy leagues where if you couldn't pull off a 450 splash at any time, you weren't 'interesting' or 'athletic' enough. Every night it had to be more, more, more. My body wasn't going to be able to keep up with that. Thankfully, Chris Diamond saw what I had, even though I'd spent four years getting brutalized, and offered me a contract not because of hardcore wrestling, not because I could swing a chair or a Singapore cane, but because I was a mat wrestler. Because I'm a submission wrestler. Because I'm something different. I've been in love with this business since the day I was able to watch it. I told Washington it and I'm telling you it again: I love wrestling. I love the fans. And I love being able to wrestle for a living, for the fans. In the immortal words of Mike 'Hawk' Hegstrand...”
He grins, altering his voice to resemble that of the famous Road Warrior.
“Oooooh, whatta rush!”
Andrew reverts to his normal voice, continuing to walk.
“It's what I live for. It's my drug. Competition is my high. But unlike some highs, it doesn't distract me or cloud my judgment. In fact, quite the opposite. It clears my mind and allows me to focus on the task at hand. This Sunday, it'll be defeating you and retaining my title. You say you're pretty sure I'll need to shop for a new belt after Crossroads? I'm pretty sure it'll stay right here.”
He clasps the belt around his waist, patting it. Andrew rolls into the ring under the bottom rope, getting back up.
“Right here, in this very ring, you and I will meet and fight it out for this title. Know what? Even though people talk about the National Title or the Honor Title or even the World Title as being more important, to me, THIS is the most important belt in nCw. It's important to me because it's my title. It's important because it's a title with a long and illustrious history. And it's important because it's my first title, second defense, third pay-per-view. One, two, three. Just like the one-two-three that could end this match. Paul, I respect you. But don't think that means I'll go easy on you. I'm going to bring the heat, and you'd better hope you can take it. Really though, if I get you in the Twin Cities Twist...or an old favorite...”
Andrew briefly does the Bret Hart hands-out pose, smirking.
“...you'll have two options: tap...or SNAP. I don't want to cause you undue pain, but if I have to to win...I will. That's just how it's going to go. No matter what, Paul, just do that one thing I ask of every opponent I face and I'll be fine...bring your best. I'll bring mine. And may the best man win.”
Andrew waves, turning to calmly leave. His eyes bug out, however, when nCw's resident slob comes lumbering down the entrance ramp. He bails through the ropes and jumps into the stands, escaping through the rest of the arena as we fade to black.
The action kicks off immediately in this Andrew Jacobsen promo as Andrew claps his hands, grinning. The camera refocuses, showing him walking down the hall of the FedEx Arena. The title shines on his shoulder as he walks, bouncing slightly.
“See, Paul? You're fired up, and that's what I wanted to see. I want to know that you're going full throttle. Yes, I questioned your heart. Yes, I insulted you and your match record. But that's because I want you to bring the heat. I want Paul Star fired up, not Paul Star curled in a corner. I told you to show me why you deserved to be X-Division Champion. You're showing me you've got the heart, Paul. Now show me you have the skill.”
He looks around, wary because of Jimmy Turner's annoying habit of interrupting promos with either his physical being or his body odor. Once Andrew's satisfied that there's no chance he'll run into the obnoxious janitor, he continues.
“Paul, I'm glad you're chomping at the bit for our match. And yes, I don't have a perfect record. But let's break down my losses? First: lost to Will Washington in a submission match. Okay, so maybe my ego brought this one on me, declaring I was a submission expert and all. But it was a hell of a match. That match took both of us to our limits, and I'm proud of my performance. Two losses in multi-man matches, never getting pinned in those. A Riot preview match, last elimination of the match. Lost to Angel, the world champion. And I lost a match because I got nailed in the back of the head by Bates' briefcase. Point is, Paul, I'm not going down easy. I know you've got the fire, and I know it'll be tough to weather. But I'm ready for it. Gib beat me the hell up, yes. But he didn't beat me down. Angel didn't beat me down. I see a lot of myself in you, Paul. I see that drive. And that's what I WANT to see. You know, I was wrong. Our past matches matter a lot. The fact is, I've never cleanly lost by pinfall. I've tapped once. That's it. You want to talk about feeling the fire? Ask Rob Diamond what it was like to burn in my light. Ask Kristoff Bates what it felt like to enter the ring with me and feel my wrath. Paul, you burn brightly, but I can burn just as bright as you if not more. You have something to prove by winning my title? I have as much to prove by retaining it. I will NOT be seen as a fluke champion.”
Andrew walks out to the arena floor, heading for the ring. He looks around at the guys setting up everything. Andrew briefly winces as he remembers what happened last time he was out there.
“...they better not be testing the pyro...anyway, Paul. You're a tough son of a bitch. But personally, I like you. I think we could have a great relationship outside the ring...but outside is where it'll have to stay for now. Come Sunday, I'm all business. Hell, I'm all business right now. Can't take ANYTHING lightly coming up to a pay-per-view, especially one where I'm defending my title. Train with Shane all you can, Paul. I'm working with Masahiro, Emma, Christoph, those guys. I won't accept anything less than your best.”
Andrew shakes his head, a rueful grin on his face.
“I envy you, Paul. You've got a woman who's in love with you and you're in love with her. Me...I've always had a problem with admitting things to people. I've had bad luck with love. I honestly wish you and Jennifer the best of luck with everything. One thing got to me...Jenny questioned my passion. She questioned my heart and my dedication. Now, I did what I did to get you fired up. But her? She doesn't know me. She doesn't know how I've bled, how I've sweated the past eight years to get to here. Since I was fifteen, still in high school, I've been training for this. I blew all my savings on a wrestling school because I knew that this was the only career for me. I've lived through barbed-wire hellholes and indy leagues where if you couldn't pull off a 450 splash at any time, you weren't 'interesting' or 'athletic' enough. Every night it had to be more, more, more. My body wasn't going to be able to keep up with that. Thankfully, Chris Diamond saw what I had, even though I'd spent four years getting brutalized, and offered me a contract not because of hardcore wrestling, not because I could swing a chair or a Singapore cane, but because I was a mat wrestler. Because I'm a submission wrestler. Because I'm something different. I've been in love with this business since the day I was able to watch it. I told Washington it and I'm telling you it again: I love wrestling. I love the fans. And I love being able to wrestle for a living, for the fans. In the immortal words of Mike 'Hawk' Hegstrand...”
He grins, altering his voice to resemble that of the famous Road Warrior.
“Oooooh, whatta rush!”
Andrew reverts to his normal voice, continuing to walk.
“It's what I live for. It's my drug. Competition is my high. But unlike some highs, it doesn't distract me or cloud my judgment. In fact, quite the opposite. It clears my mind and allows me to focus on the task at hand. This Sunday, it'll be defeating you and retaining my title. You say you're pretty sure I'll need to shop for a new belt after Crossroads? I'm pretty sure it'll stay right here.”
He clasps the belt around his waist, patting it. Andrew rolls into the ring under the bottom rope, getting back up.
“Right here, in this very ring, you and I will meet and fight it out for this title. Know what? Even though people talk about the National Title or the Honor Title or even the World Title as being more important, to me, THIS is the most important belt in nCw. It's important to me because it's my title. It's important because it's a title with a long and illustrious history. And it's important because it's my first title, second defense, third pay-per-view. One, two, three. Just like the one-two-three that could end this match. Paul, I respect you. But don't think that means I'll go easy on you. I'm going to bring the heat, and you'd better hope you can take it. Really though, if I get you in the Twin Cities Twist...or an old favorite...”
Andrew briefly does the Bret Hart hands-out pose, smirking.
“...you'll have two options: tap...or SNAP. I don't want to cause you undue pain, but if I have to to win...I will. That's just how it's going to go. No matter what, Paul, just do that one thing I ask of every opponent I face and I'll be fine...bring your best. I'll bring mine. And may the best man win.”
Andrew waves, turning to calmly leave. His eyes bug out, however, when nCw's resident slob comes lumbering down the entrance ramp. He bails through the ropes and jumps into the stands, escaping through the rest of the arena as we fade to black.