Post by Ander Carvetti on Sept 24, 2011 12:15:07 GMT -6
“Many of the great achievements of the world were accomplished by tired and discouraged men who kept on working.” - Unknown
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
Throughout my time spent in this company, I have never been one to hide my disdain for losing.
Yeah, that's one of my many reputations here along with not living up to my own hype, and being very lethargic at times. The three just seem to go really well together.
I, indeed, am a sore loser. I hate to lose. I hate when my shoulders are pinned to the mat and I'm forced to hear that third slap on the canvas. I hate when someone has me in a hold that I cannot seem to find my way out of and instead of toughing it out and going with my pride, I tap out because I can't afford to be injured...
Tapping out...
You know, I have to be honest with myself on this one. I would much rather pass out from the pain of something than tap out. I would rather fight through as much pain as I can and have my brain turn itself off so that I don't have to go through any more than have to say the words “I give up.” Those three words, whether verbally uttered or symbolically gestured by tapping the mat, leave a rotten taste in my mouth.
Maybe it's the way my personal sense of pride works, you know? Somewhere in the back of my mind if I can rationalize to myself that because I didn't tap out, it means that I didn't give up, and that means that I never really lost. I never gave up on the person that really mattered, which is myself, and that makes all the ****ing difference.
Heh.
So what changed this time around? What made me tap out to that stupid hold Jason Evans put me in? Was it any more dangerous than any other hold that I've been put in?
Not really, no. In all these years of being in this business, that move was no different than any other.
Was I capable of escaping it? Maybe if I struggled a little harder, found a hole or two somewhere in his execution, yeah I'm sure I could have squirmed my way out.
So what stopped me? What made me say “No, this isn't worth it, I'm out.”
For sure, winning this match would have put me in the match of the X Championship, but let's be real clear with ourselves for a moment. Do I really want the X Championship? I'm pretty sure that on day one of entering this company, I expressed that I was out to be the best. I wasn't out to screw around and linger in mid-card or curtain jerk hell. I wanted to be the best, and the goal hasn't changed any time soon.
The X Championship will not make me the best in this company. It is not elite. It is not prestigious. It is not something that I want to associate myself with. I can do better than that belt. Jason Evans can toil away trying to win that 10 pound hunk of leather and gold that should realistically be made out of foam and plastic because I am better than that and I truly believe that.
What else?
How about the knee injury? How about getting launched over the top rope and landing on the ground wrong and tweaking your knee? The same knee that you require to support your weight whenever you throw what is easily the most impactful and out-of-nowhere finisher in this company today.
The same finisher that's really come to define exactly what you are in this company. The same finisher that's come to define you over the course of your professional career.
I know what I am. I make no bones about it. I realize that I'm paid to compete in a professional wrestling organization, but I've never really once recognized myself as a professional wrestler. I don't make it a habit of rolling around on the canvas, or doing various acrobatics from the turnbuckles, or applying chain submissions in brutal and quick succession. All of those things define a professional wrestler in this day and age.
I don't do any of that.
I made my career in this business coming from muay thai and I'm proud of that fact. I'm proud that when I parlayed my skill set into this business, it gave others the chance to follow. So what if you couldn't perform a crisp german suplex? Who cares if you can't fly half way across the ring? What does it matter if you can't apply the most technical figure four in the world?
Are you capable of hitting someone? Can you hit someone where it hurts? Can you buckle someone with your strikes and knock them out in the middle of that ring?
You can? Then guess what?
You have a career again.
I've been using my skill-set exclusively for almost 10 years now and I've never once shied away from that fact. I'm not a professional wrestler, I'm a fighter.
I'm a warrior.
But... even a warrior has to lay down his shield every once in awhile.
So yes, I tapped out to Jason Evans. To preserve my career and my well-being, I gave up. To avoid moving laterally, I lost. To be reminded that I needed to push myself harder and further and not be satisfied with something menial...
I got myself out of there.
Jason Evans, for all of his narcissism and hypocrisy can be content with being mediocre for the rest of his career. He can be happy with the X Championship.
I'm a warrior. I want bigger glory. I want to be remembered in the annals of history. I want to be the best ever. The greatest.
I believe there's an old saying to this actually..
Kill one man, you're a murderer.
Kill a million, you're a conqueror.
Kill them all, you're a God.
Heh...
Time to get on your knees and worship me.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
”Just ice your knee twice a day and it should be fine in the next week.”
Just ice it? You sure?
”I'm a doctor. Yes, I'm sure.”
(A sigh of relief came out of my lungs as I leaned my head back on the examining room bed. Amy took me to the nearest hospital after my web show match to have my knee looked at. Turns out I got lucky. A minor sprain that would be okay in a week.)
Alright, well thank you. Good to know I'm not back on the injured list.[/gold]
(The doctor in front of me chuckled slightly and nodded. It was a white guy in his 50s who looked a few years away from being Dr. Kelso out of Scrubs. Even the smile was kind of the same, really.)
”Nothing to worry about here, Mr. Carvetti. You're taken care of. We'll just need you to sign some paperwork and you'll be set to go.”
(I nodded at him at that point and he walked out of the room. Again, I let out another sigh of relief. I felt fortunate. That landing could have put be back on the shelf for another few months, and given that it was my knee, I would have been lucky had it just been a few months. I could have lost my career...)
”Hey...”
(I snapped out of thoughts and looked over at Amy. She had a much better week than I did as she won her match. I felt a little disappointed in myself. She had done all this just to get me back into the ring, and I've already dropped the ball two matches in.)
Sorry I lost. I guess I got a little too carried away in my anger and nearly screwed myself over.
(Amy shook her head and smiled as she walked over to me and wrapped her arms around me...)
”I'm just glad that you're okay. I didn't want to see you injured again.”
(I slightly chuckled at that one. It brought out a smile from me which had felt way too uncommon as of late.)
You and me, both.
(I sat myself up and hung my legs over the examination bed. I went to check for my phone in my pants pockets to see if I had any new messages on it. Turns out I had one from nCw brass regarding the pay-per-view next week. I had a match...)
Todd Williams...
(I grumbled and Amy looked over at me curiously.)
”Todd Williams? What about him? Did he send you a text?”
(I shook my head...)
No, not at all...
He gets to be my stepping stone, again.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
Many many months ago, and I do mean a long time ago...
I had the pleasure of stepping into the ring with a man who was more obsessed with his video game console than he was actually trying to put up a challenge in the ring against me. Someone who's career could best be described in two words, and I swear to all things Holy and just, I have never forgotten it to this very day...
”Paradigm Shift.
If you've never heard those two words before, consider yourself fortunate because I like to consider that week of my life a complete waste of my time. The man that I was standing across from at that point was Todd Williams and I can tell you right now how that match ended in about two more words.
Boom, headshot.
One would think that right after that, we could all move on and live happily ever after. I would have moved on and become the great champion I was destined to be, and Todd Williams would have sank right back into the realm of mediocre while his ex-wife-thing-whorebag-I don't even know what to quite call her would have continued to do whatever it is that she does with Steve Awesome or whoever is the flavor of the month at that time.
Turns out I was only two-thirds right on this one.
Crystal is still very much doing whatever it is that she does, so I was right on that count. Todd Williams is also indeed floating in the realm of mediocrity doing and absolutely piss with his career as a whole. Yay for going two for two.
Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for my own situation. I broke my ankle, set back my career pretty good, and am having to start over and it seems starting over puts me exactly on the same tier as Todd Williams. In any other world, this would be one of the signs of the apocalypse because at no point should I have ever been on an equal or lower level than Todd, but yet, here we are. I guess I should go ahead and start checking to see if cats and dogs are getting along, or if it's raining frogs and locusts.
The point is, no, I'm not very enthralled at the prospect of this match. I don't like having to revisit the past. I don't want to have to sit through another idiotic promo from Todd about him yelling “Paradigm Shift” or trying to figure out whether he does or doesn't love his wife.
It's stupid.
It's menial.
It's a complete waste of my time.
I would love to sit here and say how much I'm going to hurt Todd at the web show, I really would love to. I wish I could find it in me the will to dedicate that much time to telling the world exactly how bad I'm going to hurt him and how I'm going to pull the plug on his career that's been sitting on life-support for awhile now. I wish I had it in me today, I really do.
But in all honesty, I don't.
Nothing has really changed in the career of Todd Williams. Nothing has really won me over. Nothing has really garnered my interest in him. This is still the same match it was many months ago, with relatively the same set of circumstances: Me trying to move up the ladder and Todd Williams still being a complete and utter joke.
So I'll make this simple for all parties involved. You know what I'm going to do to Todd Williams?
Go watch our last match.
It beats me trying to force a promo about it.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
Throughout my time spent in this company, I have never been one to hide my disdain for losing.
Yeah, that's one of my many reputations here along with not living up to my own hype, and being very lethargic at times. The three just seem to go really well together.
I, indeed, am a sore loser. I hate to lose. I hate when my shoulders are pinned to the mat and I'm forced to hear that third slap on the canvas. I hate when someone has me in a hold that I cannot seem to find my way out of and instead of toughing it out and going with my pride, I tap out because I can't afford to be injured...
Tapping out...
You know, I have to be honest with myself on this one. I would much rather pass out from the pain of something than tap out. I would rather fight through as much pain as I can and have my brain turn itself off so that I don't have to go through any more than have to say the words “I give up.” Those three words, whether verbally uttered or symbolically gestured by tapping the mat, leave a rotten taste in my mouth.
Maybe it's the way my personal sense of pride works, you know? Somewhere in the back of my mind if I can rationalize to myself that because I didn't tap out, it means that I didn't give up, and that means that I never really lost. I never gave up on the person that really mattered, which is myself, and that makes all the ****ing difference.
Heh.
So what changed this time around? What made me tap out to that stupid hold Jason Evans put me in? Was it any more dangerous than any other hold that I've been put in?
Not really, no. In all these years of being in this business, that move was no different than any other.
Was I capable of escaping it? Maybe if I struggled a little harder, found a hole or two somewhere in his execution, yeah I'm sure I could have squirmed my way out.
So what stopped me? What made me say “No, this isn't worth it, I'm out.”
For sure, winning this match would have put me in the match of the X Championship, but let's be real clear with ourselves for a moment. Do I really want the X Championship? I'm pretty sure that on day one of entering this company, I expressed that I was out to be the best. I wasn't out to screw around and linger in mid-card or curtain jerk hell. I wanted to be the best, and the goal hasn't changed any time soon.
The X Championship will not make me the best in this company. It is not elite. It is not prestigious. It is not something that I want to associate myself with. I can do better than that belt. Jason Evans can toil away trying to win that 10 pound hunk of leather and gold that should realistically be made out of foam and plastic because I am better than that and I truly believe that.
What else?
How about the knee injury? How about getting launched over the top rope and landing on the ground wrong and tweaking your knee? The same knee that you require to support your weight whenever you throw what is easily the most impactful and out-of-nowhere finisher in this company today.
The same finisher that's really come to define exactly what you are in this company. The same finisher that's come to define you over the course of your professional career.
I know what I am. I make no bones about it. I realize that I'm paid to compete in a professional wrestling organization, but I've never really once recognized myself as a professional wrestler. I don't make it a habit of rolling around on the canvas, or doing various acrobatics from the turnbuckles, or applying chain submissions in brutal and quick succession. All of those things define a professional wrestler in this day and age.
I don't do any of that.
I made my career in this business coming from muay thai and I'm proud of that fact. I'm proud that when I parlayed my skill set into this business, it gave others the chance to follow. So what if you couldn't perform a crisp german suplex? Who cares if you can't fly half way across the ring? What does it matter if you can't apply the most technical figure four in the world?
Are you capable of hitting someone? Can you hit someone where it hurts? Can you buckle someone with your strikes and knock them out in the middle of that ring?
You can? Then guess what?
You have a career again.
I've been using my skill-set exclusively for almost 10 years now and I've never once shied away from that fact. I'm not a professional wrestler, I'm a fighter.
I'm a warrior.
But... even a warrior has to lay down his shield every once in awhile.
So yes, I tapped out to Jason Evans. To preserve my career and my well-being, I gave up. To avoid moving laterally, I lost. To be reminded that I needed to push myself harder and further and not be satisfied with something menial...
I got myself out of there.
Jason Evans, for all of his narcissism and hypocrisy can be content with being mediocre for the rest of his career. He can be happy with the X Championship.
I'm a warrior. I want bigger glory. I want to be remembered in the annals of history. I want to be the best ever. The greatest.
I believe there's an old saying to this actually..
Kill one man, you're a murderer.
Kill a million, you're a conqueror.
Kill them all, you're a God.
Heh...
Time to get on your knees and worship me.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
”Just ice your knee twice a day and it should be fine in the next week.”
Just ice it? You sure?
”I'm a doctor. Yes, I'm sure.”
(A sigh of relief came out of my lungs as I leaned my head back on the examining room bed. Amy took me to the nearest hospital after my web show match to have my knee looked at. Turns out I got lucky. A minor sprain that would be okay in a week.)
Alright, well thank you. Good to know I'm not back on the injured list.[/gold]
(The doctor in front of me chuckled slightly and nodded. It was a white guy in his 50s who looked a few years away from being Dr. Kelso out of Scrubs. Even the smile was kind of the same, really.)
”Nothing to worry about here, Mr. Carvetti. You're taken care of. We'll just need you to sign some paperwork and you'll be set to go.”
(I nodded at him at that point and he walked out of the room. Again, I let out another sigh of relief. I felt fortunate. That landing could have put be back on the shelf for another few months, and given that it was my knee, I would have been lucky had it just been a few months. I could have lost my career...)
”Hey...”
(I snapped out of thoughts and looked over at Amy. She had a much better week than I did as she won her match. I felt a little disappointed in myself. She had done all this just to get me back into the ring, and I've already dropped the ball two matches in.)
Sorry I lost. I guess I got a little too carried away in my anger and nearly screwed myself over.
(Amy shook her head and smiled as she walked over to me and wrapped her arms around me...)
”I'm just glad that you're okay. I didn't want to see you injured again.”
(I slightly chuckled at that one. It brought out a smile from me which had felt way too uncommon as of late.)
You and me, both.
(I sat myself up and hung my legs over the examination bed. I went to check for my phone in my pants pockets to see if I had any new messages on it. Turns out I had one from nCw brass regarding the pay-per-view next week. I had a match...)
Todd Williams...
(I grumbled and Amy looked over at me curiously.)
”Todd Williams? What about him? Did he send you a text?”
(I shook my head...)
No, not at all...
He gets to be my stepping stone, again.
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+
Many many months ago, and I do mean a long time ago...
I had the pleasure of stepping into the ring with a man who was more obsessed with his video game console than he was actually trying to put up a challenge in the ring against me. Someone who's career could best be described in two words, and I swear to all things Holy and just, I have never forgotten it to this very day...
”Paradigm Shift.
If you've never heard those two words before, consider yourself fortunate because I like to consider that week of my life a complete waste of my time. The man that I was standing across from at that point was Todd Williams and I can tell you right now how that match ended in about two more words.
Boom, headshot.
One would think that right after that, we could all move on and live happily ever after. I would have moved on and become the great champion I was destined to be, and Todd Williams would have sank right back into the realm of mediocre while his ex-wife-thing-whorebag-I don't even know what to quite call her would have continued to do whatever it is that she does with Steve Awesome or whoever is the flavor of the month at that time.
Turns out I was only two-thirds right on this one.
Crystal is still very much doing whatever it is that she does, so I was right on that count. Todd Williams is also indeed floating in the realm of mediocrity doing and absolutely piss with his career as a whole. Yay for going two for two.
Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for my own situation. I broke my ankle, set back my career pretty good, and am having to start over and it seems starting over puts me exactly on the same tier as Todd Williams. In any other world, this would be one of the signs of the apocalypse because at no point should I have ever been on an equal or lower level than Todd, but yet, here we are. I guess I should go ahead and start checking to see if cats and dogs are getting along, or if it's raining frogs and locusts.
The point is, no, I'm not very enthralled at the prospect of this match. I don't like having to revisit the past. I don't want to have to sit through another idiotic promo from Todd about him yelling “Paradigm Shift” or trying to figure out whether he does or doesn't love his wife.
It's stupid.
It's menial.
It's a complete waste of my time.
I would love to sit here and say how much I'm going to hurt Todd at the web show, I really would love to. I wish I could find it in me the will to dedicate that much time to telling the world exactly how bad I'm going to hurt him and how I'm going to pull the plug on his career that's been sitting on life-support for awhile now. I wish I had it in me today, I really do.
But in all honesty, I don't.
Nothing has really changed in the career of Todd Williams. Nothing has really won me over. Nothing has really garnered my interest in him. This is still the same match it was many months ago, with relatively the same set of circumstances: Me trying to move up the ladder and Todd Williams still being a complete and utter joke.
So I'll make this simple for all parties involved. You know what I'm going to do to Todd Williams?
Go watch our last match.
It beats me trying to force a promo about it.