Post by Hannah Reed on May 17, 2013 13:52:11 GMT -6
I could almost predict the pattern this week would take.
A bunch of sentimental bull**** trotted out to pull on the hearts strings of anybody with an emotional investment in NCW designed to play on everyone’s inbuilt desire for a storybook ending. The valiant returning heroes vanquishing the villainous cast of cads and wastrels, the perennial underdog rising up and toppling the all-conquering giant and whatever other tired out fairy tales people have the care to regurgitate ad nauseum.
It’s all a bunch of cliché ridden nonsense perpetrated in the name of garnering sympathy for a desperate last cause in the face of an unavoidable sunset.
It’s dull, it’s insipid and it’s uninspiring.
This isn’t a direct criticism of solely yourself Alex, it applies to everyone. There will be so many two faced charlatans hiding behind a mask of modesty and humility this week, playing a multitude of self-pitying roles in an attempt to collect a wave of support to fulfil whatever ends they have designed for themselves this Sunday.
It is almost as if the closure of this company has become an excuse for idleness.
Now, before anybody accuses me of pissing on the week long eulogy for the roster's great love affair, let me make it perfectly clear that I'm as devastated as anybody, if not more so, about the demise of New Championship Wrestling. I've poured my heart and soul into this company alongside Kelly Fox and Adam Knite and there's nothing in life that brings me more pride than to call myself the NCW World Champion.
But I’m not going to start mourning like a widow and playing this weekend up to be something remarkable in isolation, because it simply isn’t.
Not to me.
Whenever I lace up a pair of boots and get inside a ring I bring absolutely everything and leave it out there, whether I am opening the show for nothing or closing the biggest show of the year for the most important prize in the game. I don’t care if I am wrestling in front of 80 people in some backwards ass **** hole or 80,000 inside a state of the art arena, the stage is merely a setting.
It is the performance that will live forever.
I don't need a monumental occasion to raise my game or an incentive to go out there and bust my ass off and I sure as hell don't need any motivation to leave a match victorious. Everyone is going to waste oxygen pontificating the divine attributes of NCW and telling you how much this company means to them and how this is their final opportunities to achieve whatever metaphoric glory they have built up around themselves.
What separates me from the rest of you is I don’t need to tell anybody what this company means to me because week in, week out I've shown it. I may have mocked clichés moments ago but in this case nothing is more apt than to say that actions speak louder than words.
I don’t need to waste everybody’s time professing my undying love because this Sunday I will show the world what representing New Championship Wrestling means to me.
This week will be an excuse for a lack of innovation, for men to hide behind masks and purport to be angels and modify their behaviours to fit the setting, but I will do what I do every single week and simply speak from the heart and tell the truth. I'm the reigning, defending, NCW World Champion, the best professional wrestler in the world and more importantly I'm the man who will do everything to leave this company as the only undefeated champion in company history.
And you, Alex?
You’re simply going to be a means to an end, the collateral in my final performance. No matter how much you try to dress this moment up into a chance for redemption, to wash away your sins and right the wrongs perpetrated against you time and time again, the simple fact is that you’re walking into another disappointment in a myriad of misery.
You can play out the same old sob story everybody else does whenever they face me and tell everybody how much you deserve to win the big one on the final night and fulfil the innate desires everybody has for a story book ending, but it isn’t anything I haven’t heard before.
And the closing chapter of this company will not be determined by sentiment.
Every time somebody has lined up to fight me for this belt it's the same story. They’ve worked their asses off for a number of years, they’ve suffered disappointments and setbacks and endured near miss after near miss and by virtue of perpetual failure they've somehow served their sentence in limbo and earned their right to ascension.
Cut the bull****, Alex. You're better than this.
You can hide behind your camera and swear to the world that you need this to erase the past and justify your career in NCW but false humility, predictable clichés and a sense of entitlement will not help you. You’re going to have to look me straight in the eyes this weekend and convince me that I'm in for the fight of my life and right now all I see is a man going through the motions and saying everything that is expected of him.
Just like everybody else preparing their worthless phrases of endearment for this federations final show.
Let me make this abundantly clear, you don’t deserve anything. You’ve earned a title shot and you’re going to have to earn a victory over me. It doesn’t matter if you’ve bled like a pig for this company, you haven’t got a divine right to topple the crown from crest because you’ve suffered at the hands of screwjobs.
Remove any delusions of entitlement from your mind right now if you want to have any hope of defeating me this weekend.
I don’t want to hear baseless claims of divine approval, foe after foe has promised time and time again to defeat me and they’ve failed repeatedly and it has become almost an atypical automated response to fighting me. You’re not going to beat me just because you claim you will and you don’t deserve to just because you think you’ve been victimised. This match is just like any other to me, not even God himself could intervene to stop me preparing any differently or putting the same amount of effort into ensuring I leave as champion.
Let’s eradicate the tempting clichés and stick to the facts.
Roberto Verona v Alex Jones for the NCW World Championship.
Victory to be determined by who is the best on the night.
Winner takes all. Fairy tale script be damned.
The end.
Let’s get something straight here, right off the bat.
I respect you, despite the objective opinion I am about to share.
I’ve never underestimated anybody once in my whole career and I sure as hell don't plan to break with tradition this weekend. I know exactly what to expect from you, Alex. You’re going to hit me hard this weekend like a cornered animal, and that isn’t a criticism or a thinly veiled insult, I know that you’re going to fight with a vicious ferocity as if your life depended on it because among all of the hyperbole and clichés I know the weight that is resting on your shoulders.
You’re a talented man, you don’t enter a Coliseum and leave it of your own accord as a victor if you’re a fraud.
Inside of that ring there are few men who can match you for pure ability, unremitting talent or sheer determination to put on a show and leave an indelible mark on the highlight reel. Anybody inside this company or outside who questions your skill as a wrestler is deluded, biased or simply incapable of ever complimenting you and I have never been in the business of peddling lies to spite my opponent.
You've absolutely everything required to be an exemplary champion of a major professional wrestling federation.
If only you didn’t keep pandering to that one great handicap.
Your mouth.
Time and time again, and trust me I’ve watched from afar, you allow yourself to write cheques with your mouth that you have absolutely no possibility of cashing and not only that, which is a crime in itself, you have a habit of rousing your opponents up from a passive slumber into a feverish riot by constantly belittling their achievements and acting like a King without a crown to legitimise your lineage.
You practically pin yourself for them.
Instead of remembering you as one of the best in ring talents of the decade, and believe me it is an accolade you rightfully deserve, you've tainted your legacy by indulging yourself in a myriad of petty feuds and positioning yourself as a maligned victim who looks at others achievements with spiteful envy.
Even in your finest hour you cannot resist running down men you consider your inferior.
If you’re so positive of your superiority, why do you act like a servant to insecurity? I don’t waste my time pissing on everybody else’s party yet you just cannot resist dragging the names of a familiar cast of victims through the mud. You can keep telling everybody that you’re better than whatever person you've allocated to suffer your ire for the week until you’re blue in the face but I can tell you now that all everybody else sees is a shade of green.
The success of others, minor or major, shouldn’t weigh so heavily on man who is so sure of his superiority.
Do you honestly think that people think so very little of you because you’ve failed to win the big prize? That by pure virtue of being a 30 day champion your “inferiors” have automatically surpassed you in the eyes of the fans? Does their success really eat away at you so much that you have to constantly measure yourself against them whilst struggling with the conclusion that they’re better based on one achievement despite your dominance over them?
Your paranoia at being viewed as a failure due to never winning the big prize is going to betray you, Alex, it is time to let it go.
The reason Jake Conway is respected is because he is a three time National Champion, a brilliant father and a Road to the Gold winner, not because he was a World Champion. Andrew Jacobsen is admired because despite everything he has always done what he thinks is right, even to his own detriment, not because he was a World Champion. People adore Gib because he is a veteran of the business who has defied his critics to succeed and become a dominant half of the greatest tag team in the history of NCW in his twilight years, not because he was a World Champion.
Do you sense a pattern?
There are few men in this company whose legacy hinges solely on their name being etched on the NCW World Championship. I may go down as the longest reigning champion in company history, but my legacy isn’t based on that singular achievement, I will be remembered for so much more than such an arbitrary trait. A monumental Riot performance, two rapid title reigns after signing for the company, ending Xander’s streak, winning a Riot…these are all footnotes in my legacy and they all contribute to the grandeur I will leave behind.
You don’t need this belt to validate yourself, Alex, you simply think you do. It’s time to stop measuring yourself against others and pontificating that you were right all along about how much they are beneath you as if it proves something.
If you do manage to defeat me this weekend and add “NCW World Champion” to your list of accolades nobody will view you any differently to how they do now because of it, just like the men you demean your reign will be meaningless, over before it ever really begun.
They’ll view you differently because you ended the longest title streak in company history.
I know you’re scared, Alex, I’ve always known that you hide behind an arrogance which masks a crippling insecurity built up on this self-conflicted desire to prove yourself to people whilst equally wanting to unceremoniously shove their criticisms down their throat.
In your mind you’re building up this weekend as your chance at redeeming your name in the eyes of those who run you down for never capturing the big boy’s toy, you've allowed the opinion of others to drive you to a point of insanity as you desperately try to validate yourself for their benefit so nobody can call you a failure again, even though that judgement is entirely subjective when you place it in the context of a wrestling promo which is solely designed to undermine somebody.
It’s time to stop chasing a dream simply so you can say “I told you so”.
I haven’t carved out a career like mine because I’ve needed to prove myself to anybody, ultimately I couldn’t give a damn what anybody else thinks about me and it's about time you did the same because if you’re simply doing this to prove a point to people whose opinions do not matter than I am going to dismantle you mentally before the bell even rings.
I want you to march down to that ring and fight me, not to simply add another name to your list of belts, not to satisfy the criterion of others to be classed as a worthwhile performer but to prove to everyone that you’re better than bitter, envious shadow of a man you’ve allowed yourself to become.
That you’re Alex Jones, one of the best to ever grace the ring, belt or no belt.
It is time to choose your legacy, win or lose, the attitude that you adopt to your final performance on the grandest stage of all is going to define how you’re remembered.
An arrogant wretch whose envy of others consumed him to the end and tarnished his image.
Or a symbol of a reformed man who realised the error of his ways and put on a show worthy of closing out the last chapter of a unforgettable legacy.
A bunch of sentimental bull**** trotted out to pull on the hearts strings of anybody with an emotional investment in NCW designed to play on everyone’s inbuilt desire for a storybook ending. The valiant returning heroes vanquishing the villainous cast of cads and wastrels, the perennial underdog rising up and toppling the all-conquering giant and whatever other tired out fairy tales people have the care to regurgitate ad nauseum.
It’s all a bunch of cliché ridden nonsense perpetrated in the name of garnering sympathy for a desperate last cause in the face of an unavoidable sunset.
It’s dull, it’s insipid and it’s uninspiring.
This isn’t a direct criticism of solely yourself Alex, it applies to everyone. There will be so many two faced charlatans hiding behind a mask of modesty and humility this week, playing a multitude of self-pitying roles in an attempt to collect a wave of support to fulfil whatever ends they have designed for themselves this Sunday.
It is almost as if the closure of this company has become an excuse for idleness.
Now, before anybody accuses me of pissing on the week long eulogy for the roster's great love affair, let me make it perfectly clear that I'm as devastated as anybody, if not more so, about the demise of New Championship Wrestling. I've poured my heart and soul into this company alongside Kelly Fox and Adam Knite and there's nothing in life that brings me more pride than to call myself the NCW World Champion.
But I’m not going to start mourning like a widow and playing this weekend up to be something remarkable in isolation, because it simply isn’t.
Not to me.
Whenever I lace up a pair of boots and get inside a ring I bring absolutely everything and leave it out there, whether I am opening the show for nothing or closing the biggest show of the year for the most important prize in the game. I don’t care if I am wrestling in front of 80 people in some backwards ass **** hole or 80,000 inside a state of the art arena, the stage is merely a setting.
It is the performance that will live forever.
I don't need a monumental occasion to raise my game or an incentive to go out there and bust my ass off and I sure as hell don't need any motivation to leave a match victorious. Everyone is going to waste oxygen pontificating the divine attributes of NCW and telling you how much this company means to them and how this is their final opportunities to achieve whatever metaphoric glory they have built up around themselves.
What separates me from the rest of you is I don’t need to tell anybody what this company means to me because week in, week out I've shown it. I may have mocked clichés moments ago but in this case nothing is more apt than to say that actions speak louder than words.
I don’t need to waste everybody’s time professing my undying love because this Sunday I will show the world what representing New Championship Wrestling means to me.
This week will be an excuse for a lack of innovation, for men to hide behind masks and purport to be angels and modify their behaviours to fit the setting, but I will do what I do every single week and simply speak from the heart and tell the truth. I'm the reigning, defending, NCW World Champion, the best professional wrestler in the world and more importantly I'm the man who will do everything to leave this company as the only undefeated champion in company history.
And you, Alex?
You’re simply going to be a means to an end, the collateral in my final performance. No matter how much you try to dress this moment up into a chance for redemption, to wash away your sins and right the wrongs perpetrated against you time and time again, the simple fact is that you’re walking into another disappointment in a myriad of misery.
You can play out the same old sob story everybody else does whenever they face me and tell everybody how much you deserve to win the big one on the final night and fulfil the innate desires everybody has for a story book ending, but it isn’t anything I haven’t heard before.
And the closing chapter of this company will not be determined by sentiment.
Every time somebody has lined up to fight me for this belt it's the same story. They’ve worked their asses off for a number of years, they’ve suffered disappointments and setbacks and endured near miss after near miss and by virtue of perpetual failure they've somehow served their sentence in limbo and earned their right to ascension.
Cut the bull****, Alex. You're better than this.
You can hide behind your camera and swear to the world that you need this to erase the past and justify your career in NCW but false humility, predictable clichés and a sense of entitlement will not help you. You’re going to have to look me straight in the eyes this weekend and convince me that I'm in for the fight of my life and right now all I see is a man going through the motions and saying everything that is expected of him.
Just like everybody else preparing their worthless phrases of endearment for this federations final show.
Let me make this abundantly clear, you don’t deserve anything. You’ve earned a title shot and you’re going to have to earn a victory over me. It doesn’t matter if you’ve bled like a pig for this company, you haven’t got a divine right to topple the crown from crest because you’ve suffered at the hands of screwjobs.
Remove any delusions of entitlement from your mind right now if you want to have any hope of defeating me this weekend.
I don’t want to hear baseless claims of divine approval, foe after foe has promised time and time again to defeat me and they’ve failed repeatedly and it has become almost an atypical automated response to fighting me. You’re not going to beat me just because you claim you will and you don’t deserve to just because you think you’ve been victimised. This match is just like any other to me, not even God himself could intervene to stop me preparing any differently or putting the same amount of effort into ensuring I leave as champion.
Let’s eradicate the tempting clichés and stick to the facts.
Roberto Verona v Alex Jones for the NCW World Championship.
Victory to be determined by who is the best on the night.
Winner takes all. Fairy tale script be damned.
The end.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Music plays in an elegant hall as women in fine dresses and men in equally fine suits mingle with one another as waiting staff move between them seamlessly. Stood to one side is Roberto Verona who seems lost in his own mind as Kelly Fox approaches him, causing him to snap back to reality.
Congratulations, Roberto. Adam would come over and say the same, but you know how wrestlers are, their pride takes a while to look past having a knee driven in their face.
It’s fine, I know he is proud really.
You seem glum, it’s your big night soon and I thought you’d be excited about IWF?
I’m excited about A Night to Remember, a little less so about the future.
Why?
I’m a little scared it isn’t what I dreamed it would be. I invested so much into joining you and Adam and building something great, but it seems that when one battle ceases another rears its ugly head.
Are you angry at me?
You? Absolutely not, Kelly. Honestly, I admire that you’re smart enough to realise when it is time to reduce your commitments for the sake of your family, too many people are consumed by an obsession with this business at the expense of their personal lives. I am just disappointed that after everything I did to put myself in a position to enact change, now I'm the inferior partner in a relationship where the other will seek to undermine me.
Simon’s not all bad, he’s been perfectly polite to me.
Roberto smiles.
He’s been trying to purchase your assets, he was hardly going to adopt a different tactic to the honey tongue.
Perhaps, maybe it’d help if I had a word with him?
It’s ok, I don’t think a note from mother would help.
Then perhaps you need to do what you’ve always done when the wolves have been at the door.
What’s that?
Stand up and fight back. We went through hell together before we reached an accord, the Verona I knew wouldn’t give up when the end game was in sight. You have something Simon wants, barter with him, he’s a business man. Talk your way into your dreams.
And if he doesn’t listen?
Kelly shrugs.
Then drop him on his head through a table or something.
Roberto laughs.
Wrestling diplomacy is probably not the best approach in this instance.
It always made me feel better.
Thanks for trying, I think I’ll need to try something more tactful.
Kelly steps forward, placing one hand on Roberto’s shoulder and the other on her stomach, which has tastefully begun to show the early signs of pregnancy.
Listen to me Roberto. We all have our dreams, some dream of building a family, others dream of leaving a legacy. You always dreamed of instituting justice in a business that routinely exploits its workforce, don’t throw your dreams away because of a few speed bumps. I would never jeopardise the happiness of my family, current or future, and I had to make a difficult decision which I still question to this day. But the answer is always the same, I did the right thing to accomplish my dream. You need to do the same, you may need to bend a little and adapt you expectations initially, but if you want it, you have to do everything to grab it.
Wow, that was poignant, you really have gone soft since you got pregnant.
Kelly punches Roberto playfully in the arm.
I'm still your boss for another week, don’t you forget that.
Yes, boss.
Good, now quit moping in the corner and get your ass back out there and start representing my company as its champion, there’s an awful lot of people lining up to kiss your ass.
I’ll be over in a moment, I have a call to make.
Always playing at being mysterious. Fine, go on, make your little call, just don’t leave me with them for too long.
Kelly pats Roberto on the shoulder before turning and walking back towards the throng of people who quickly surround her as Roberto walks out of the large room and outside, taking a moment to look up at the stars before looking back down to find himself suddenly surrounded by the large frame of two gentlemen and the figure of Bernard de Montfort.
Can I help you, short round?
My father would like to speak to you.
I assume this isn’t optional.
You could come quietly, but then I’d rather you didn’t.
Then allow me to spoil your party.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Music plays in an elegant hall as women in fine dresses and men in equally fine suits mingle with one another as waiting staff move between them seamlessly. Stood to one side is Roberto Verona who seems lost in his own mind as Kelly Fox approaches him, causing him to snap back to reality.
Congratulations, Roberto. Adam would come over and say the same, but you know how wrestlers are, their pride takes a while to look past having a knee driven in their face.
It’s fine, I know he is proud really.
You seem glum, it’s your big night soon and I thought you’d be excited about IWF?
I’m excited about A Night to Remember, a little less so about the future.
Why?
I’m a little scared it isn’t what I dreamed it would be. I invested so much into joining you and Adam and building something great, but it seems that when one battle ceases another rears its ugly head.
Are you angry at me?
You? Absolutely not, Kelly. Honestly, I admire that you’re smart enough to realise when it is time to reduce your commitments for the sake of your family, too many people are consumed by an obsession with this business at the expense of their personal lives. I am just disappointed that after everything I did to put myself in a position to enact change, now I'm the inferior partner in a relationship where the other will seek to undermine me.
Simon’s not all bad, he’s been perfectly polite to me.
Roberto smiles.
He’s been trying to purchase your assets, he was hardly going to adopt a different tactic to the honey tongue.
Perhaps, maybe it’d help if I had a word with him?
It’s ok, I don’t think a note from mother would help.
Then perhaps you need to do what you’ve always done when the wolves have been at the door.
What’s that?
Stand up and fight back. We went through hell together before we reached an accord, the Verona I knew wouldn’t give up when the end game was in sight. You have something Simon wants, barter with him, he’s a business man. Talk your way into your dreams.
And if he doesn’t listen?
Kelly shrugs.
Then drop him on his head through a table or something.
Roberto laughs.
Wrestling diplomacy is probably not the best approach in this instance.
It always made me feel better.
Thanks for trying, I think I’ll need to try something more tactful.
Kelly steps forward, placing one hand on Roberto’s shoulder and the other on her stomach, which has tastefully begun to show the early signs of pregnancy.
Listen to me Roberto. We all have our dreams, some dream of building a family, others dream of leaving a legacy. You always dreamed of instituting justice in a business that routinely exploits its workforce, don’t throw your dreams away because of a few speed bumps. I would never jeopardise the happiness of my family, current or future, and I had to make a difficult decision which I still question to this day. But the answer is always the same, I did the right thing to accomplish my dream. You need to do the same, you may need to bend a little and adapt you expectations initially, but if you want it, you have to do everything to grab it.
Wow, that was poignant, you really have gone soft since you got pregnant.
Kelly punches Roberto playfully in the arm.
I'm still your boss for another week, don’t you forget that.
Yes, boss.
Good, now quit moping in the corner and get your ass back out there and start representing my company as its champion, there’s an awful lot of people lining up to kiss your ass.
I’ll be over in a moment, I have a call to make.
Always playing at being mysterious. Fine, go on, make your little call, just don’t leave me with them for too long.
Kelly pats Roberto on the shoulder before turning and walking back towards the throng of people who quickly surround her as Roberto walks out of the large room and outside, taking a moment to look up at the stars before looking back down to find himself suddenly surrounded by the large frame of two gentlemen and the figure of Bernard de Montfort.
Can I help you, short round?
My father would like to speak to you.
I assume this isn’t optional.
You could come quietly, but then I’d rather you didn’t.
Then allow me to spoil your party.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let’s get something straight here, right off the bat.
I respect you, despite the objective opinion I am about to share.
I’ve never underestimated anybody once in my whole career and I sure as hell don't plan to break with tradition this weekend. I know exactly what to expect from you, Alex. You’re going to hit me hard this weekend like a cornered animal, and that isn’t a criticism or a thinly veiled insult, I know that you’re going to fight with a vicious ferocity as if your life depended on it because among all of the hyperbole and clichés I know the weight that is resting on your shoulders.
You’re a talented man, you don’t enter a Coliseum and leave it of your own accord as a victor if you’re a fraud.
Inside of that ring there are few men who can match you for pure ability, unremitting talent or sheer determination to put on a show and leave an indelible mark on the highlight reel. Anybody inside this company or outside who questions your skill as a wrestler is deluded, biased or simply incapable of ever complimenting you and I have never been in the business of peddling lies to spite my opponent.
You've absolutely everything required to be an exemplary champion of a major professional wrestling federation.
If only you didn’t keep pandering to that one great handicap.
Your mouth.
Time and time again, and trust me I’ve watched from afar, you allow yourself to write cheques with your mouth that you have absolutely no possibility of cashing and not only that, which is a crime in itself, you have a habit of rousing your opponents up from a passive slumber into a feverish riot by constantly belittling their achievements and acting like a King without a crown to legitimise your lineage.
You practically pin yourself for them.
Instead of remembering you as one of the best in ring talents of the decade, and believe me it is an accolade you rightfully deserve, you've tainted your legacy by indulging yourself in a myriad of petty feuds and positioning yourself as a maligned victim who looks at others achievements with spiteful envy.
Even in your finest hour you cannot resist running down men you consider your inferior.
If you’re so positive of your superiority, why do you act like a servant to insecurity? I don’t waste my time pissing on everybody else’s party yet you just cannot resist dragging the names of a familiar cast of victims through the mud. You can keep telling everybody that you’re better than whatever person you've allocated to suffer your ire for the week until you’re blue in the face but I can tell you now that all everybody else sees is a shade of green.
The success of others, minor or major, shouldn’t weigh so heavily on man who is so sure of his superiority.
Do you honestly think that people think so very little of you because you’ve failed to win the big prize? That by pure virtue of being a 30 day champion your “inferiors” have automatically surpassed you in the eyes of the fans? Does their success really eat away at you so much that you have to constantly measure yourself against them whilst struggling with the conclusion that they’re better based on one achievement despite your dominance over them?
Your paranoia at being viewed as a failure due to never winning the big prize is going to betray you, Alex, it is time to let it go.
The reason Jake Conway is respected is because he is a three time National Champion, a brilliant father and a Road to the Gold winner, not because he was a World Champion. Andrew Jacobsen is admired because despite everything he has always done what he thinks is right, even to his own detriment, not because he was a World Champion. People adore Gib because he is a veteran of the business who has defied his critics to succeed and become a dominant half of the greatest tag team in the history of NCW in his twilight years, not because he was a World Champion.
Do you sense a pattern?
There are few men in this company whose legacy hinges solely on their name being etched on the NCW World Championship. I may go down as the longest reigning champion in company history, but my legacy isn’t based on that singular achievement, I will be remembered for so much more than such an arbitrary trait. A monumental Riot performance, two rapid title reigns after signing for the company, ending Xander’s streak, winning a Riot…these are all footnotes in my legacy and they all contribute to the grandeur I will leave behind.
You don’t need this belt to validate yourself, Alex, you simply think you do. It’s time to stop measuring yourself against others and pontificating that you were right all along about how much they are beneath you as if it proves something.
If you do manage to defeat me this weekend and add “NCW World Champion” to your list of accolades nobody will view you any differently to how they do now because of it, just like the men you demean your reign will be meaningless, over before it ever really begun.
They’ll view you differently because you ended the longest title streak in company history.
I know you’re scared, Alex, I’ve always known that you hide behind an arrogance which masks a crippling insecurity built up on this self-conflicted desire to prove yourself to people whilst equally wanting to unceremoniously shove their criticisms down their throat.
In your mind you’re building up this weekend as your chance at redeeming your name in the eyes of those who run you down for never capturing the big boy’s toy, you've allowed the opinion of others to drive you to a point of insanity as you desperately try to validate yourself for their benefit so nobody can call you a failure again, even though that judgement is entirely subjective when you place it in the context of a wrestling promo which is solely designed to undermine somebody.
It’s time to stop chasing a dream simply so you can say “I told you so”.
I haven’t carved out a career like mine because I’ve needed to prove myself to anybody, ultimately I couldn’t give a damn what anybody else thinks about me and it's about time you did the same because if you’re simply doing this to prove a point to people whose opinions do not matter than I am going to dismantle you mentally before the bell even rings.
I want you to march down to that ring and fight me, not to simply add another name to your list of belts, not to satisfy the criterion of others to be classed as a worthwhile performer but to prove to everyone that you’re better than bitter, envious shadow of a man you’ve allowed yourself to become.
That you’re Alex Jones, one of the best to ever grace the ring, belt or no belt.
It is time to choose your legacy, win or lose, the attitude that you adopt to your final performance on the grandest stage of all is going to define how you’re remembered.
An arrogant wretch whose envy of others consumed him to the end and tarnished his image.
Or a symbol of a reformed man who realised the error of his ways and put on a show worthy of closing out the last chapter of a unforgettable legacy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roberto is lead down the street away from the party thrown in NCW’s honour, past the cameras and towards a large black limo which is parked under a streetlight away from the hustle and bustle. The door suddenly swings open as the two men push Roberto in through the opening, slamming it behind him. Roberto looks up and spots a familiar figure and realises quickly where he is, deciding to take a seat opposite.
Mr Verona, finally I have the pleasure of your company.
I wish I could say it was a pleasure to have yours, Simon, but being man-handled into limousines isn’t how I generally treat people I want to endear.
Would you've come by your own volition?
Roberto smiles and snorts, nodding his head.
Touché.
You needn’t worry Mr Verona, if I wanted to have you removed I would've done so long before now, after all you have been a constant thorn in my side, despite our previously cordial business relationship.
I'm just protecting what I've worked hard to earn.
A commendable trait. And the reason you still have use of your limbs.
Are you threatening me, Simon?
Simon sblack persons to himself.
I needn’t peddle idle threats, if I wanted to hurt you I’d have simply done so and believe me I’ve had numerous opportunities to do so. No, I realise why you have defied me and I respect that and now, thanks to your dogged determination to deprive me of my desires we are at an impasse.
We both knew it would come to this.
I'd hoped my investments would’ve alleviated the need for this conversation, but it appears you’re a resourceful man. Although I'm sure a Mediterranean guardian angel proved useful.
I've no idea what you mean.
Simon smiles.
Quite.
So, are we just going to trade pleasantries or is this going somewhere, Kelly will be wondering where I’ve gotten to.
Straight to business, a man after my own heart. Very well, I feel that we need to strike up an accord to solidify the management of IWF, wrestling power struggles are a cliché, even I as an outsider I'm well aware of this. We need to be united and I'm willing to discuss how we may achieve a harmonious partnership, albeit it one in which I'm the majority shareholder.
Make me an offer, we’ll see if it is good enough.
I realise that I've no case to claim a precedent in knowledge of the professional wrestling business, I’ve built my fortune in alternate fields, and it is clear to me that to effectively manage any industry I'm required to surround myself with people who’re experienced in such a business. I need somebody I can trust to administer the wrestling portion of my company and, as a minority controlling shareholder you have a right to some form of involvement.
I’m listening.
Let’s me cut to the chase, I'm well aware that you fought to cling to this hard earned power because you’ve dreamt of reforming a wrestling company and running it in an admirable fashion. This has never been about money for you, or a business opportunity, but a desire to fight for the rights of men and women who break themselves for other people’s benefits. I am willing to ignore your transgressions in exchange for your services as Chief Operating Officer of IWF with the sole purpose of managing the wrestling.
And if I refuse?
You can be a silent partner who sits at home making money.
That doesn’t sound like a punishment.
If you were a broken old man riddled with gout and plagued by the effects of indulgence, perhaps not. You’re a young, passionate an ambitious professional wrestler, sitting at home watching the future of the business grow without you will eat away.
How do I know you’re not the snake tempting me to eternal damnation?
Because I am far more transparent than you give me credit for, if I wanted to destroy you I simply would. I’m not a purveyor of pointless mind games for the sake of it, I recognise you usefulness to my project and my fiscal wealth is of more importance to me than some sort of inate desire for vengeance of minor slights.
Your offer is tempting, Simon, but I am afraid I will need a little more security.
Name your price.
I want total independence, no corporate parenting, I want to have final say over the hiring of any wrestling staff and a guarantee that our business relationship is entirely transparent, no corporate game of thrones. Finally, I want you to promise me that you’ll retain Hannah in her current role at NCW, she doesn’t deserve to be victimised over a conflict that she wasn’t involved in.
Is that everything? No yacht? No multi-million dollar condo?
You forget that I'm disgracefully wealthy, Simon. You seem to forget that what with being obscenely rich.
The pair share a chuckle.
Touché.
Then we’re in agreement?
I’m sure I can suffer those requirements, just this once.
Then I accept your offer. If you would please excuse me, I have a party to attend.
Simon flicks his wrist to indicate that Verona may leave but as he exits the vehicle he is replaced by Bernard, who climbs in and closes the door behind him.
Why did you give him everything he wanted? We’ve been fighting to supress his objections for months and you just caved in!?
I gave Mr Verona what he wanted to ensure we got we wanted, I wouldn’t expect you to understand the subtle nuances of business, Bernard, it has never been your forte. Why would I want to make an enemy of the 40% stakeholder in my latest business venture? He can play God in his little world of wrestling and we can reap the fiscal benefits, it’s good business. Destroying him for the sake of it is meaningless.
But…!
Simon suddenly turns and looks at Bernard with a fire in his eyes, which make the young man retreat into his shell.
The matter is closed, Bernard.
Yes father…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roberto is lead down the street away from the party thrown in NCW’s honour, past the cameras and towards a large black limo which is parked under a streetlight away from the hustle and bustle. The door suddenly swings open as the two men push Roberto in through the opening, slamming it behind him. Roberto looks up and spots a familiar figure and realises quickly where he is, deciding to take a seat opposite.
Mr Verona, finally I have the pleasure of your company.
I wish I could say it was a pleasure to have yours, Simon, but being man-handled into limousines isn’t how I generally treat people I want to endear.
Would you've come by your own volition?
Roberto smiles and snorts, nodding his head.
Touché.
You needn’t worry Mr Verona, if I wanted to have you removed I would've done so long before now, after all you have been a constant thorn in my side, despite our previously cordial business relationship.
I'm just protecting what I've worked hard to earn.
A commendable trait. And the reason you still have use of your limbs.
Are you threatening me, Simon?
Simon sblack persons to himself.
I needn’t peddle idle threats, if I wanted to hurt you I’d have simply done so and believe me I’ve had numerous opportunities to do so. No, I realise why you have defied me and I respect that and now, thanks to your dogged determination to deprive me of my desires we are at an impasse.
We both knew it would come to this.
I'd hoped my investments would’ve alleviated the need for this conversation, but it appears you’re a resourceful man. Although I'm sure a Mediterranean guardian angel proved useful.
I've no idea what you mean.
Simon smiles.
Quite.
So, are we just going to trade pleasantries or is this going somewhere, Kelly will be wondering where I’ve gotten to.
Straight to business, a man after my own heart. Very well, I feel that we need to strike up an accord to solidify the management of IWF, wrestling power struggles are a cliché, even I as an outsider I'm well aware of this. We need to be united and I'm willing to discuss how we may achieve a harmonious partnership, albeit it one in which I'm the majority shareholder.
Make me an offer, we’ll see if it is good enough.
I realise that I've no case to claim a precedent in knowledge of the professional wrestling business, I’ve built my fortune in alternate fields, and it is clear to me that to effectively manage any industry I'm required to surround myself with people who’re experienced in such a business. I need somebody I can trust to administer the wrestling portion of my company and, as a minority controlling shareholder you have a right to some form of involvement.
I’m listening.
Let’s me cut to the chase, I'm well aware that you fought to cling to this hard earned power because you’ve dreamt of reforming a wrestling company and running it in an admirable fashion. This has never been about money for you, or a business opportunity, but a desire to fight for the rights of men and women who break themselves for other people’s benefits. I am willing to ignore your transgressions in exchange for your services as Chief Operating Officer of IWF with the sole purpose of managing the wrestling.
And if I refuse?
You can be a silent partner who sits at home making money.
That doesn’t sound like a punishment.
If you were a broken old man riddled with gout and plagued by the effects of indulgence, perhaps not. You’re a young, passionate an ambitious professional wrestler, sitting at home watching the future of the business grow without you will eat away.
How do I know you’re not the snake tempting me to eternal damnation?
Because I am far more transparent than you give me credit for, if I wanted to destroy you I simply would. I’m not a purveyor of pointless mind games for the sake of it, I recognise you usefulness to my project and my fiscal wealth is of more importance to me than some sort of inate desire for vengeance of minor slights.
Your offer is tempting, Simon, but I am afraid I will need a little more security.
Name your price.
I want total independence, no corporate parenting, I want to have final say over the hiring of any wrestling staff and a guarantee that our business relationship is entirely transparent, no corporate game of thrones. Finally, I want you to promise me that you’ll retain Hannah in her current role at NCW, she doesn’t deserve to be victimised over a conflict that she wasn’t involved in.
Is that everything? No yacht? No multi-million dollar condo?
You forget that I'm disgracefully wealthy, Simon. You seem to forget that what with being obscenely rich.
The pair share a chuckle.
Touché.
Then we’re in agreement?
I’m sure I can suffer those requirements, just this once.
Then I accept your offer. If you would please excuse me, I have a party to attend.
Simon flicks his wrist to indicate that Verona may leave but as he exits the vehicle he is replaced by Bernard, who climbs in and closes the door behind him.
Why did you give him everything he wanted? We’ve been fighting to supress his objections for months and you just caved in!?
I gave Mr Verona what he wanted to ensure we got we wanted, I wouldn’t expect you to understand the subtle nuances of business, Bernard, it has never been your forte. Why would I want to make an enemy of the 40% stakeholder in my latest business venture? He can play God in his little world of wrestling and we can reap the fiscal benefits, it’s good business. Destroying him for the sake of it is meaningless.
But…!
Simon suddenly turns and looks at Bernard with a fire in his eyes, which make the young man retreat into his shell.
The matter is closed, Bernard.
Yes father…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
