Post by Nighthawk on Oct 27, 2012 16:22:48 GMT -6
“Concentration and mental toughness are the margins of victory.” Bill Russell
As Nighthawk tapes his hands tightly in his small office in the Wrestle Factory, focusing only on the roll of Honolulu-blue tape in the palm of his right hand, one can’t help but wonder what is on the mind of the Chicago native. While last week he did achieve victory in a triple-threat match, he did so by exacting a price out of his opponent that he clearly did not want to have him pay. Despite that, however, the “Wrestling Machine” has the one thing that he has wanted since he signed with NCW: a chance to prove himself.
But again, life seems intent on toying with him as his chance to prove himself comes against a man who he created some kind of positive relationship. But while he might feel some pangs of annoyance at being expected to fight with passion and vigor against Xavier Williams, just 2 weeks after teaming with him, this is not something he is terribly unused to. Rather, for him at least, it is the chance to stretch his competitive wings, and to do so against one of NCW’s more decorated champions, that sends a thrill through the “Man of 1000 Holds”. But while we can clearly not ascertain any outward excitement over the task that has been put in front of him, Nighthawk is nonetheless motivated and enervated by the challenge that NCW management has given him.
But as Nighthawk walks in to the gym, the excess tape still hanging in his hand, his excitement suddenly, and drastically, fades. For standing alongside one of the rings, in full view of anyone caring to listen or approach, are a trio of journalists from Chicago’s papers of record. Sighing to himself, as though he is about to go through some terrifying personal torture, the “Wrestling Machine” sits on the lip of the ring apron and continues to tape his hands up. But as he finishes taping, he smiles and directs his attention to Reggie Bennett who has somehow wormed her way in between columnists from the Chicago Tribune and the Chicago Sun-Times.
Reggie Bennett: “Thank you for having us here in what is your inner sanctum, and not tossing us out as we have heard can be the case when you are as deep into training as you are currently. I just wanted to ask you one question: How do you respond to your critics who call you a boy scout in an age of vicious predators, and question openly whether or not you have the killer instinct that is necessary to succeed in a promotion with the depth of talent that can be found in NCW?”
Nighthawk, smiling almost as though he knew a question like this would be coming: “Everywhere I go, without fail, this question keeps getting asked. I guess it’s so strange for people to see someone who says they will refuse to break the rules, and then actually goes about the business of doing it, that they have to ask you questions like if you’re a boy scout, or if you have the right kind of aggression. Let me make something clear, because it gets lost in the translation way too much for my liking way too much of the time. Here is the truth: yes, I have a code of honor. It’s nothing I hide, and it’s something I'm proud of. but here is another truth: Everywhere I have gone, people have asked that same question. And I've answered them the best way that I know how to, the same way that I'm going to answer this question. Watch what I do. Watch how I wrestle. And at the end of every one of my matches, ask yourself the same question you asked about me before the match started. And if you don’t believe your lying eyes, ask Jake Keeton. I think that you will get the answer you want.”
Reporter #2, a rotund man wearing what might be the most ill-fitting suit in the history of men’s fashion: “Joe Simon, Chicago Tribune. With all of the controversy over your comments about your presumed technical superiority over Adam Knite and the Ace, are you concerned that some of these men will try to take liberties with you if you ever get into the ring with them? And as a follow-up question, what in the world possessed you to make an unprompted statement such as that?”
Nighthawk: “Well, Mr. Simon, let me answer your last question first. I do sincerely believe that I am the best technical wrestler in the world, and if I did not believe that, I would not be fit to be a professional wrestler, much less one employed in a promotion the caliber of NCW. My confidence in my abilities and the distinct knowledge that I can wrestle on a level with anyone in the world is what made me say that, Mr. Simon, and I doubt very much that I would be blamed for having that kind of confidence in my own abilities. Now as to your 1st question let me be clear. I am not worried about anything an opponent would try to do to me. I've seen it all and done most of it myself. There is nothing that I find myself being frightened of.”
Reporter #3, a well-dressed and smirking 30-something man who seems to believe that this entire proceeding is beneath him: “Jay Mariotti, Chicago Sun-Times. Frankly, and I think none of the people here at this interview have the guts to ask this question, I want to know this. What about your career gives us any reasonable expectation that you know what it feels like to win? You have never been a champion of the kind of great renown that you, and the sycophants in local media, seem to think that you were. Frankly, sir, you have become a joke. How do you respond to that?”
Nighthawk, a comfortable smile on his face: “I am amused by this, Mr. Mariotti. First, I never proclaimed myself to be a champion of great renown. It is one of my life’s regrets that I have never had a championship reign on par with some of the men that I consider peers. This fact is, and trust me when I tell you this, not something I ever need to be reminded of. it is with me, and stays there, every morning when I wake up, and it reappears every night when I lay my head down to rest. But to imply, as you have so deftly done here, that I have no concept of what it is to win a match is an insult that I will refuse to let stand. So let me explain that in language you can easily understand. Look behind you, into that big trophy case. Every title in there, every trophy and cup, I took from someone who had no intention of giving it to me. I know what it is to win, to fight and scrap with every last fiber of your being to earn proof that you were worthy of the victory. So forgive me then, Mr. Mariotti, if I don’t eagerly jump up to proclaim your correctness on a matter that I don’t think you know all that much about.”
As Nighthawk continues to hold court with the men tasked with interviewing him, we slowly fade away letting the “Wrestling Machine” have his moment to himself.
A few hours later…..
As Nighthawk packs up his gear bag in the trunk of his car the door to his modest townhouse opens and out walks his wife Sin. Hugging her husband as she hands him a thermal-lined bag filled with a day’s worth of meals, we see a look of confusion on her face as she works through on her mind whether or not she wants to bring a subject up to her husband.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Sin: “I know that you don’t want me to bring up stuff like this before you go on the road, and you’re not here to do anything about it, but we’ve been getting some weird phone calls.”
Nighthawk: “Define weird, honey. Because hearing that makes me nervous, and makes me wonder if I should catch a flight to the venue instead of driving.”
Sin: “Oh, the garden-variety stuff that makes me think it’s nothing more than teenagers figuring out where we live, and deciding to see if they could get a little thrill. Calling and then hanging right up. Things like that. There is honestly, and I say this sincerely, nothing for you to worry about.”
Nighthawk: “We went through this before, you know. we went through it with Asdrubal, and with the Russians. I don’t want to do that again. I don’t know if we can handle what it is going to take to make sure that we can prevent it if it’s actually something like that, rather than just a couple of teenagers goofing off. It’s not worth it to have to deal with all of that foolishness one more time.”
Hugging his wife Nighthawk packs his gear bag and heads off towards Buffalo, not seeing the flicker of doubt cross his wife’s face before she blinks and walks back into their modest townhouse.
That night…..
As Nighthawk pulls into a small motel right in the middle of Buffalo, having finished the 8-hour drive from his hometown, the “Wrestling Machine” leans against his car and slowly closes his eyes. Clad in a gold Kronk Gym t-shirt, black leather pants with blue and silver lightning bolts going up and down each leg, and black work boots, Nighthawk slowly opens his eyes.
Nighthawk: “When I started in this sport my trainer Pat Mack, the man who gave me the solid fundamentals that every young wrestler needs to have before they can even think of being a success, took me aside and gave me what would turn out to be the last lessons he ever taught me. Pancreatic cancer took him from us all 6 short months later. But even now, after all of the traveling and all of the time that I have spent learning from the sort of men and women he would have been pleased to have me learn from, I can still hear his lessons in my ears. I can still hear him begging me to listen.
And this week, when I step in the ring against Xavier Williams, I will remember the last lesson he taught me: Always believe the man across the ring from you can end your career, and train to prevent that outcome.
Xavier you’ve done a lot here in NCW. You’ve won the World Heavyweight Title, and the X title. You’re accomplished, and anyone who says otherwise is either a fool or just not paying attention. By contrast, I have not accomplished nearly what you have, at least here. But I do have a lot of experience, and I do know what it feels like to win a match that people think you can’t possibly win.
I've battled those odds all my life, Xavier. Ever since I first laced up wrestling boots, people have told me that I can’t win, that I'm not big enough or strong enough to beat a guy like you. And I proved them wrong, night after night, match after match, until every doubt died. And now, this week, I have to listen to more doubters, more people telling me I can’t beat a former World Champion and a X-Division Champion. I have to hear this everywhere I go, whether it’s at the gym or at the super market. It used to be that I could just ignore it, file it away as fans vociferously defending their guy. But now? Now I think it’s because people genuinely believe this. And I have to break them of their trance. And the only way that I can think of to do it is to beat you, Xavier.
Now I know what you’re thinking. If I was in your position, I would think it too. You’re probably wondering what in the world makes me think that I can beat you. you’re probably wondering where I'm coming from that makes me think I can do what I say that I am going to do. Here, Xavier, is the answer to that question. I'm coming from world titles all over the globe, tournament victories against men 2 and 3 times my size, and a knowledge of technical wrestling that means I will never be overmatched or unprepared for an opponent, size be damned. You may call yourself ‘Black Jesus’, but I earned the right to be called the ‘Man of 1000 Holds’.
I earned it by suffering in places you wouldn’t go to on a bet. I proved myself by always staying on the cutting edge of what the masters of our sport are doing. If there’s a hold out there that I want to master, I will go to the man who has perfected it. I know a hold, a submission, a pinning combination, for every conceivable situation. How many will I have to use to beat you, Xavier? I'm not sure. But I know that at least 1 is going to be able to get the job done. And I will get the job done, when I pin your shoulders to the mat or make you tap out. The endgame is irrelevant. How I get there, on the other hand, is all the fun I need.
Goodnight Xavier. May sleep give you the courage to go on."
As Nighthawk tapes his hands tightly in his small office in the Wrestle Factory, focusing only on the roll of Honolulu-blue tape in the palm of his right hand, one can’t help but wonder what is on the mind of the Chicago native. While last week he did achieve victory in a triple-threat match, he did so by exacting a price out of his opponent that he clearly did not want to have him pay. Despite that, however, the “Wrestling Machine” has the one thing that he has wanted since he signed with NCW: a chance to prove himself.
But again, life seems intent on toying with him as his chance to prove himself comes against a man who he created some kind of positive relationship. But while he might feel some pangs of annoyance at being expected to fight with passion and vigor against Xavier Williams, just 2 weeks after teaming with him, this is not something he is terribly unused to. Rather, for him at least, it is the chance to stretch his competitive wings, and to do so against one of NCW’s more decorated champions, that sends a thrill through the “Man of 1000 Holds”. But while we can clearly not ascertain any outward excitement over the task that has been put in front of him, Nighthawk is nonetheless motivated and enervated by the challenge that NCW management has given him.
But as Nighthawk walks in to the gym, the excess tape still hanging in his hand, his excitement suddenly, and drastically, fades. For standing alongside one of the rings, in full view of anyone caring to listen or approach, are a trio of journalists from Chicago’s papers of record. Sighing to himself, as though he is about to go through some terrifying personal torture, the “Wrestling Machine” sits on the lip of the ring apron and continues to tape his hands up. But as he finishes taping, he smiles and directs his attention to Reggie Bennett who has somehow wormed her way in between columnists from the Chicago Tribune and the Chicago Sun-Times.
Reggie Bennett: “Thank you for having us here in what is your inner sanctum, and not tossing us out as we have heard can be the case when you are as deep into training as you are currently. I just wanted to ask you one question: How do you respond to your critics who call you a boy scout in an age of vicious predators, and question openly whether or not you have the killer instinct that is necessary to succeed in a promotion with the depth of talent that can be found in NCW?”
Nighthawk, smiling almost as though he knew a question like this would be coming: “Everywhere I go, without fail, this question keeps getting asked. I guess it’s so strange for people to see someone who says they will refuse to break the rules, and then actually goes about the business of doing it, that they have to ask you questions like if you’re a boy scout, or if you have the right kind of aggression. Let me make something clear, because it gets lost in the translation way too much for my liking way too much of the time. Here is the truth: yes, I have a code of honor. It’s nothing I hide, and it’s something I'm proud of. but here is another truth: Everywhere I have gone, people have asked that same question. And I've answered them the best way that I know how to, the same way that I'm going to answer this question. Watch what I do. Watch how I wrestle. And at the end of every one of my matches, ask yourself the same question you asked about me before the match started. And if you don’t believe your lying eyes, ask Jake Keeton. I think that you will get the answer you want.”
Reporter #2, a rotund man wearing what might be the most ill-fitting suit in the history of men’s fashion: “Joe Simon, Chicago Tribune. With all of the controversy over your comments about your presumed technical superiority over Adam Knite and the Ace, are you concerned that some of these men will try to take liberties with you if you ever get into the ring with them? And as a follow-up question, what in the world possessed you to make an unprompted statement such as that?”
Nighthawk: “Well, Mr. Simon, let me answer your last question first. I do sincerely believe that I am the best technical wrestler in the world, and if I did not believe that, I would not be fit to be a professional wrestler, much less one employed in a promotion the caliber of NCW. My confidence in my abilities and the distinct knowledge that I can wrestle on a level with anyone in the world is what made me say that, Mr. Simon, and I doubt very much that I would be blamed for having that kind of confidence in my own abilities. Now as to your 1st question let me be clear. I am not worried about anything an opponent would try to do to me. I've seen it all and done most of it myself. There is nothing that I find myself being frightened of.”
Reporter #3, a well-dressed and smirking 30-something man who seems to believe that this entire proceeding is beneath him: “Jay Mariotti, Chicago Sun-Times. Frankly, and I think none of the people here at this interview have the guts to ask this question, I want to know this. What about your career gives us any reasonable expectation that you know what it feels like to win? You have never been a champion of the kind of great renown that you, and the sycophants in local media, seem to think that you were. Frankly, sir, you have become a joke. How do you respond to that?”
Nighthawk, a comfortable smile on his face: “I am amused by this, Mr. Mariotti. First, I never proclaimed myself to be a champion of great renown. It is one of my life’s regrets that I have never had a championship reign on par with some of the men that I consider peers. This fact is, and trust me when I tell you this, not something I ever need to be reminded of. it is with me, and stays there, every morning when I wake up, and it reappears every night when I lay my head down to rest. But to imply, as you have so deftly done here, that I have no concept of what it is to win a match is an insult that I will refuse to let stand. So let me explain that in language you can easily understand. Look behind you, into that big trophy case. Every title in there, every trophy and cup, I took from someone who had no intention of giving it to me. I know what it is to win, to fight and scrap with every last fiber of your being to earn proof that you were worthy of the victory. So forgive me then, Mr. Mariotti, if I don’t eagerly jump up to proclaim your correctness on a matter that I don’t think you know all that much about.”
As Nighthawk continues to hold court with the men tasked with interviewing him, we slowly fade away letting the “Wrestling Machine” have his moment to himself.
A few hours later…..
As Nighthawk packs up his gear bag in the trunk of his car the door to his modest townhouse opens and out walks his wife Sin. Hugging her husband as she hands him a thermal-lined bag filled with a day’s worth of meals, we see a look of confusion on her face as she works through on her mind whether or not she wants to bring a subject up to her husband.
(Author’s Note: This conversation took place in Spanish.)
Sin: “I know that you don’t want me to bring up stuff like this before you go on the road, and you’re not here to do anything about it, but we’ve been getting some weird phone calls.”
Nighthawk: “Define weird, honey. Because hearing that makes me nervous, and makes me wonder if I should catch a flight to the venue instead of driving.”
Sin: “Oh, the garden-variety stuff that makes me think it’s nothing more than teenagers figuring out where we live, and deciding to see if they could get a little thrill. Calling and then hanging right up. Things like that. There is honestly, and I say this sincerely, nothing for you to worry about.”
Nighthawk: “We went through this before, you know. we went through it with Asdrubal, and with the Russians. I don’t want to do that again. I don’t know if we can handle what it is going to take to make sure that we can prevent it if it’s actually something like that, rather than just a couple of teenagers goofing off. It’s not worth it to have to deal with all of that foolishness one more time.”
Hugging his wife Nighthawk packs his gear bag and heads off towards Buffalo, not seeing the flicker of doubt cross his wife’s face before she blinks and walks back into their modest townhouse.
That night…..
As Nighthawk pulls into a small motel right in the middle of Buffalo, having finished the 8-hour drive from his hometown, the “Wrestling Machine” leans against his car and slowly closes his eyes. Clad in a gold Kronk Gym t-shirt, black leather pants with blue and silver lightning bolts going up and down each leg, and black work boots, Nighthawk slowly opens his eyes.
Nighthawk: “When I started in this sport my trainer Pat Mack, the man who gave me the solid fundamentals that every young wrestler needs to have before they can even think of being a success, took me aside and gave me what would turn out to be the last lessons he ever taught me. Pancreatic cancer took him from us all 6 short months later. But even now, after all of the traveling and all of the time that I have spent learning from the sort of men and women he would have been pleased to have me learn from, I can still hear his lessons in my ears. I can still hear him begging me to listen.
And this week, when I step in the ring against Xavier Williams, I will remember the last lesson he taught me: Always believe the man across the ring from you can end your career, and train to prevent that outcome.
Xavier you’ve done a lot here in NCW. You’ve won the World Heavyweight Title, and the X title. You’re accomplished, and anyone who says otherwise is either a fool or just not paying attention. By contrast, I have not accomplished nearly what you have, at least here. But I do have a lot of experience, and I do know what it feels like to win a match that people think you can’t possibly win.
I've battled those odds all my life, Xavier. Ever since I first laced up wrestling boots, people have told me that I can’t win, that I'm not big enough or strong enough to beat a guy like you. And I proved them wrong, night after night, match after match, until every doubt died. And now, this week, I have to listen to more doubters, more people telling me I can’t beat a former World Champion and a X-Division Champion. I have to hear this everywhere I go, whether it’s at the gym or at the super market. It used to be that I could just ignore it, file it away as fans vociferously defending their guy. But now? Now I think it’s because people genuinely believe this. And I have to break them of their trance. And the only way that I can think of to do it is to beat you, Xavier.
Now I know what you’re thinking. If I was in your position, I would think it too. You’re probably wondering what in the world makes me think that I can beat you. you’re probably wondering where I'm coming from that makes me think I can do what I say that I am going to do. Here, Xavier, is the answer to that question. I'm coming from world titles all over the globe, tournament victories against men 2 and 3 times my size, and a knowledge of technical wrestling that means I will never be overmatched or unprepared for an opponent, size be damned. You may call yourself ‘Black Jesus’, but I earned the right to be called the ‘Man of 1000 Holds’.
I earned it by suffering in places you wouldn’t go to on a bet. I proved myself by always staying on the cutting edge of what the masters of our sport are doing. If there’s a hold out there that I want to master, I will go to the man who has perfected it. I know a hold, a submission, a pinning combination, for every conceivable situation. How many will I have to use to beat you, Xavier? I'm not sure. But I know that at least 1 is going to be able to get the job done. And I will get the job done, when I pin your shoulders to the mat or make you tap out. The endgame is irrelevant. How I get there, on the other hand, is all the fun I need.
Goodnight Xavier. May sleep give you the courage to go on."
