Post by Philip Burns on Sept 1, 2007 20:37:40 GMT -6
My life is vacant titles and empty dreams.
::It is one day until Road to the Gold, early the morning before::
::Today our scene opens up in a well furnished sitting room. There is a very large LCD TV but it is turned off. There are several nice paintings littering the wall. All the furniture pieces are neatly aligned, giving the room an excellent flow. The flow leads to the main chair. In this case the chair is occupied by a Mr. Philip Burns. In his hands he holds a leather-bound notebook. He is feverishly writing in it, recalling the events that have led up to this day. From his life experiences to his first defeat he recalls them all. He talks aloud as he writes::
When my mother passed away two months ago I felt something new when I attended her funeral. All my life I have pictured myself as a loner, a man not needing to be backed up by anyone.
Until that day I had been strong. Somehow I felt like I was alone for the first time. It felt horrible. All those years I spent on the road, dodging family reunions, forgetting to mail cards, and waiting for someone to call me first. I am not very proud of where I had been. Looking back I realize that when I had the backing of my mother and my family I knew I was cut out to be a world champion. However since arriving in nCw I have been unsure. I still have the rest of my family but that took her passing even harder than I did, so to let them know I need them is stress I wouldn’t dream of unleashing upon my family.
I think maybe in some way I intentionally took out some aggressions on Kelly fox. Maybe I wanted her to get involved in my match and maybe in some way I wanted to keep myself from making it to the main event. Perhaps I knew deep down that I would be cheating myself by getting there without my heart in the game.
It has long been said that people aren’t in this business to make friends, but I think that is a lie. If you had to travel all year long alone like I have been doing for years it takes a toll on your self esteem. The News is the closest thing I have to a friend but really he is an employee. If he had any ring experience we would be closer, and I would take his compliments about my work more seriously.
This isn’t the first time I psyched myself out. When all that business went down with my nephew I knew I didn’t want to do any of that. I knew I was making a mistake but I felt so empowered. I felt justified in my actions. I cannot say the same for the way I handled last Sunday’s show.
Kelly Fox should be no concern of mine. But I know it is too late to run back now. It is because of my actions that I angered her, made an enemy out of Davey Ortega and that lethal cocktail cost me and Jack Manson a shot at the big gold. I should have accepted my defeat and not cost him the chance.
Ortega was not worth it. Now, looking back I know that had I kept a cool head the past few weeks it would be I and my opponent for the World Championship and not the National title. Although the national title has the potential to be every bit as important as the main belt I know that it will never be recognized as so. Neither I nor Manson will tolerate being held down on that level. Those facts which will make our match steal the show.
::At that moment The News bursts through the door. He is dressed in a dark red suit and is well groomed. He is obviously ready for the action tomorrow night. The Burning puts down his journal and looks u to see who it is. Upon realizing it is The News he walks over to greet him. The News looks awfully hapy about something::
The News: Hey Phil, this just in, I got some great one-liners you can use for TV. I’ve been thinking of these all day. Check this one out. Jack Manson had better pray to the God of Xtreme (Spike Kane) to forgive his sins. You Like that one?
The Burning: no not really. Did it seriously take you all day for those?
The News: Anyway, how about this? You better hope Dr. Pepper does house calls after i beat your ass! Catchy, huh? It is gold stuff.
The Burning: Listen man I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I have some stuff I need to get done before tomorrow and I just need some space for a few hours.
::Phil begins to usher him toward the door as The News make a final plea::
The News: come on how about this. You had better ask President Pliskin to pardon your crimes against The Burning!
The Burning: No, I'm good. I will see you later.
::The News is now gone and Burns slams the door shut. He looks around the room halfway expecting something else to start annoying him. He takes his seat once again and picks up his pen. He eyeballs the paper not knowing what to say next. Tapping the pen on his forehead he ponders a sundry of subjects. Landing on one he once again put pen to paper and his thoughts pour out. He narrates out loud::
In my travels I met many a strange soul. Not the least of which would be my manager. However after hearing Jack Manson’s kind words to me I cant help but feel that he is the type of person who has respect for this industry. When push came to shove he realized that although I had done wrong I wasn’t to blame. In turn I vow to make our match a fair one. I will leave all emotions behind and forget for one night about Kelly Fox, Davey Ortega and anyone else who is a would-be problem.
I can only speculate as to who the special enforcer is that the General Manager will name. Regardless I am sure that the match will go off without a hitch and all will be fine. Unlike my previous encounters in the ring I am now more focused than ever. And my attention has turned away from fame and championships. Instead I am now focused on a legacy; A legacy which will stand the test of time and allow me to live on forever. Yes indeed a new kind fire is burning.
I was one told a story about a man who lived on through the ages, changing his identity with every generation. Lately I am beginning to think that I am very similar to him. Obviously I do not live through several generations, but a generation of experiences. I have been a pretty boy fan favorite. I was once vengeful, wore a mask, and hid behind rage. I have been a workaholic technician. I fear that now I may be slipping into yet another persona. I think I have respect flowing though my veins, and filling my competitive heart. It feels good. But how long will it last?
::He closes his journal, pauses for a moment and takes a breath. Obviously there is a lot on his mind. His title match less than twenty-four hours away he must concentrate on his legacy. He puts his notebook to the side, walks over to the well furnished in-home bar and pours a drink. After a pause he pous it right back down the drain::
::The scene slowly fades::
::It is one day until Road to the Gold, early the morning before::
::Today our scene opens up in a well furnished sitting room. There is a very large LCD TV but it is turned off. There are several nice paintings littering the wall. All the furniture pieces are neatly aligned, giving the room an excellent flow. The flow leads to the main chair. In this case the chair is occupied by a Mr. Philip Burns. In his hands he holds a leather-bound notebook. He is feverishly writing in it, recalling the events that have led up to this day. From his life experiences to his first defeat he recalls them all. He talks aloud as he writes::
When my mother passed away two months ago I felt something new when I attended her funeral. All my life I have pictured myself as a loner, a man not needing to be backed up by anyone.
Until that day I had been strong. Somehow I felt like I was alone for the first time. It felt horrible. All those years I spent on the road, dodging family reunions, forgetting to mail cards, and waiting for someone to call me first. I am not very proud of where I had been. Looking back I realize that when I had the backing of my mother and my family I knew I was cut out to be a world champion. However since arriving in nCw I have been unsure. I still have the rest of my family but that took her passing even harder than I did, so to let them know I need them is stress I wouldn’t dream of unleashing upon my family.
I think maybe in some way I intentionally took out some aggressions on Kelly fox. Maybe I wanted her to get involved in my match and maybe in some way I wanted to keep myself from making it to the main event. Perhaps I knew deep down that I would be cheating myself by getting there without my heart in the game.
It has long been said that people aren’t in this business to make friends, but I think that is a lie. If you had to travel all year long alone like I have been doing for years it takes a toll on your self esteem. The News is the closest thing I have to a friend but really he is an employee. If he had any ring experience we would be closer, and I would take his compliments about my work more seriously.
This isn’t the first time I psyched myself out. When all that business went down with my nephew I knew I didn’t want to do any of that. I knew I was making a mistake but I felt so empowered. I felt justified in my actions. I cannot say the same for the way I handled last Sunday’s show.
Kelly Fox should be no concern of mine. But I know it is too late to run back now. It is because of my actions that I angered her, made an enemy out of Davey Ortega and that lethal cocktail cost me and Jack Manson a shot at the big gold. I should have accepted my defeat and not cost him the chance.
Ortega was not worth it. Now, looking back I know that had I kept a cool head the past few weeks it would be I and my opponent for the World Championship and not the National title. Although the national title has the potential to be every bit as important as the main belt I know that it will never be recognized as so. Neither I nor Manson will tolerate being held down on that level. Those facts which will make our match steal the show.
::At that moment The News bursts through the door. He is dressed in a dark red suit and is well groomed. He is obviously ready for the action tomorrow night. The Burning puts down his journal and looks u to see who it is. Upon realizing it is The News he walks over to greet him. The News looks awfully hapy about something::
The News: Hey Phil, this just in, I got some great one-liners you can use for TV. I’ve been thinking of these all day. Check this one out. Jack Manson had better pray to the God of Xtreme (Spike Kane) to forgive his sins. You Like that one?
The Burning: no not really. Did it seriously take you all day for those?
The News: Anyway, how about this? You better hope Dr. Pepper does house calls after i beat your ass! Catchy, huh? It is gold stuff.
The Burning: Listen man I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I have some stuff I need to get done before tomorrow and I just need some space for a few hours.
::Phil begins to usher him toward the door as The News make a final plea::
The News: come on how about this. You had better ask President Pliskin to pardon your crimes against The Burning!
The Burning: No, I'm good. I will see you later.
::The News is now gone and Burns slams the door shut. He looks around the room halfway expecting something else to start annoying him. He takes his seat once again and picks up his pen. He eyeballs the paper not knowing what to say next. Tapping the pen on his forehead he ponders a sundry of subjects. Landing on one he once again put pen to paper and his thoughts pour out. He narrates out loud::
In my travels I met many a strange soul. Not the least of which would be my manager. However after hearing Jack Manson’s kind words to me I cant help but feel that he is the type of person who has respect for this industry. When push came to shove he realized that although I had done wrong I wasn’t to blame. In turn I vow to make our match a fair one. I will leave all emotions behind and forget for one night about Kelly Fox, Davey Ortega and anyone else who is a would-be problem.
I can only speculate as to who the special enforcer is that the General Manager will name. Regardless I am sure that the match will go off without a hitch and all will be fine. Unlike my previous encounters in the ring I am now more focused than ever. And my attention has turned away from fame and championships. Instead I am now focused on a legacy; A legacy which will stand the test of time and allow me to live on forever. Yes indeed a new kind fire is burning.
I was one told a story about a man who lived on through the ages, changing his identity with every generation. Lately I am beginning to think that I am very similar to him. Obviously I do not live through several generations, but a generation of experiences. I have been a pretty boy fan favorite. I was once vengeful, wore a mask, and hid behind rage. I have been a workaholic technician. I fear that now I may be slipping into yet another persona. I think I have respect flowing though my veins, and filling my competitive heart. It feels good. But how long will it last?
::He closes his journal, pauses for a moment and takes a breath. Obviously there is a lot on his mind. His title match less than twenty-four hours away he must concentrate on his legacy. He puts his notebook to the side, walks over to the well furnished in-home bar and pours a drink. After a pause he pous it right back down the drain::
::The scene slowly fades::