Post by Rob Diamond on May 27, 2009 18:49:53 GMT -6
Rob Diamond went backstage following his main event match against Joe Everyman in the Elite 8 Finals, his head hung low, feeling depressed, defeated, but most of all, he felt like a complete failure.
Rob stood there in his locker room, full wrestling gear still on, leaning on a table, his head staring at the grain, his reflection showing us the look of disdain on his face. One thought races through his mind as he stands there, with the camera to his back.
"I failed... Again..."
With his right fist raised, Rob strikes the table below him, not hard enough to cause any damage to anything but his own hand. Rob's face recoils in a slight expression of pain. He brings his head up, meeting his own gaze in the mirror, the camera crew behind him waiting patiently for him to speak.
"No one ever expected Joe Everyman and I to make it so far in the Elite 8. No one expected Joe to get past Bates, or I past Falcon. No one expected the two of us to come guns blazing, all or nothing into that match. No one expected the match they got, that level of intensity between two men who most laugh at when they see our names on the card across from their own. But we did it, just like we said we would, and only one of us had our Cinderella story come full circle, just like I said. Congratulations Joe, you earned it, you deserve it, now just don't blow it."
Rob slowly turns around and looks into the camera, his eyes full of anger but he says nothing more and our scene slowly fades out.
---------------------------------------------------
Four days have passed since the Elite 8 Finals, the card for Reborn has been issued to the Roster and to the World. After months of scratching and clawing his way up the pecking order of nCw, Rob Diamond, who main evented Collision just last week, finds himself right back where he started over a year ago. The opening match on Wired against some guy who sucks more than he does. Rob's thoughts emanate from him as we fade in to him at the gym, currently jogging on a tread mill.
"Two steps forward, three steps back. Thats how it always is for me. I get a title shot, I blow it, I get considered for another title shot, I blow it, I bust my ass and beat people down, getting right there, my finger tips grazing the top, then I blow it again. Is that just my destiny? Is that who I am? I'm just that guy who's good, but not good enough? Am I destined to live in the shadow of my brother? And what do I do now? I went after the Xtreme title and failed. I went after tag gold and failed. I went after the X-Division title and failed. Once I had a dream, and that dream was to be the epitome of what it means to be an American. But maybe I'm just not good enough?... Or maybe... I'm being too nice? Maybe I'm being too fair? Was it fair to drop the bomb on Japan? Not really. Did it get the job done? Yes. Was it fair to attack Iraq with no evidence to back it up? No. Did we free those ungrateful towel heads? We sure did. Maybe my Xtreme American Dream has been all wrong? Maybe it's time to make my dream everyone else's Nightmare."
Slowly, Rob brings the tread mill to a stop. He steps off of it and wipes the sweat from his brow with a towel he had hanging on the railing. Rob picks up his water bottle and takes a generous sip from it before looking over to where the camera is waiting. He gives us one of his half smiles, saying, perhaps, every things gonna be alright.
"So it seems I find myself once again opening up Wired, a spot I haven't had to endure in a very long time now. After months and months of proving to the world I wasn't the joke everyone made me out to be, I end up right where I started in this company. And I'm starting to think that it's a gift, perhaps not a curse. See, I have the chance to start over now, right from the beginning, perhaps not make some of the mistakes I made before."
Rob turns slightly and begins to walk down the length of the gym towards the men's locker room.
"But I'm not alone in this, another has joined me, a man who perhaps deserves to be where he is more so than I do. A man who has yet to prove his worth to this company but wants to so badly. A man who most don't even care to remember his name. This man, my opponent, is Steve Ramone... Insert stupid nickname here..."
Rob goes to keep walking, but half steps and turns back to the camera, looking slightly confused. Even scratching his head.
"I'm gonna be honest with ya Steve, I don't really know **** about you. I mean, I got the basics from watching the Pulse and asking around backstage. But all I can ever really get is, and I quote, "The dude never wins, don't worry bout it." And as reassuring as that is, it's not real advice. I don't really like to underestimate people, mostly because most people underestimate me, you could say, I feel your pain."
Rob scoffs, insinuating sarcasm.
"No, but really, your a new comer here, and before we get into the whole name calling thing I'd like to extend my hand and welcome you to nCw. Nice to meet you champ, how's things going for ya so far?
Rob chuckles, already knowing the answer to that question.
"Actually, I already know how your doing, pretty badly. What have you won, like a single match? Against.... Hexx? Really? Hexx? He's the only guy you've been good enough to beat? You know, I could be a real dick right now and explain to you how Hexx is nCw's version of Tommy Dreamer, meaning, nobody ever loses to him... Well... Almost... The Motor City Mafia was an exception. Personally I think they gang banged Kelly Fox or something, because NO ONE loses to Hexx. But that's really besides the point, isn't it? So no, I won't be a dick do that Steve, because I want our new found friendship to start out on the right foot. Now just forget I ever mentioned anything to do with how unimpressive it is to defeat Hexx in any fashion.
Again he begins to walk towards the men's locker room, taking a sip of his water again.
"The thing is Steve, in nCw, you gotta earn your shots. You can't just float around the company picking up wins here and there against jobbers. I mean if that's how it worked, then Mark Evil would have won the World title for real by now, but he hasn't. In fact the only sympathy champion we've ever had has been Xavier Williams. I've said it before, I'll say it again, affirmative action is a bitch. I know what your thinking right now, and it probably has something to do with picking apart my words, but please don't do it, see I'm not trying to be mean to you Steve, not at all. I've just noticed you struggling and wish to take advantage... I mean give you a hand. American's, true American's have to stick together in this day and age, you know that right Steve? Foreigners and immigrants and illegal aliens and all around fat pieces of **** are tearing this country apart. Men like you and me, we gotta stand proud, we gotta fight back. That's why when we get in the ring on Wired this coming Sunday, I'm going to show you exactly what it takes to be a member of the nCw Roster. Because not only are we both proud American's, but we're going to become real, real good friends."
Rob cops the biggest "****" eating grin you've ever seen as he gives the camera a thumbes up. After what seems like ten miles, Rob has reached the men's locker room. He stands just outside the door as a few other men come and go.
"All this time I've been fighting for my Xtreme American Dream, but now I think it's time I introduced all of you to your Xtreme American Nightmare. Starting with you Steve. Because Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently."
The smiling image of Rob Diamond fades to black.
Rob stood there in his locker room, full wrestling gear still on, leaning on a table, his head staring at the grain, his reflection showing us the look of disdain on his face. One thought races through his mind as he stands there, with the camera to his back.
"I failed... Again..."
With his right fist raised, Rob strikes the table below him, not hard enough to cause any damage to anything but his own hand. Rob's face recoils in a slight expression of pain. He brings his head up, meeting his own gaze in the mirror, the camera crew behind him waiting patiently for him to speak.
"No one ever expected Joe Everyman and I to make it so far in the Elite 8. No one expected Joe to get past Bates, or I past Falcon. No one expected the two of us to come guns blazing, all or nothing into that match. No one expected the match they got, that level of intensity between two men who most laugh at when they see our names on the card across from their own. But we did it, just like we said we would, and only one of us had our Cinderella story come full circle, just like I said. Congratulations Joe, you earned it, you deserve it, now just don't blow it."
Rob slowly turns around and looks into the camera, his eyes full of anger but he says nothing more and our scene slowly fades out.
---------------------------------------------------
Four days have passed since the Elite 8 Finals, the card for Reborn has been issued to the Roster and to the World. After months of scratching and clawing his way up the pecking order of nCw, Rob Diamond, who main evented Collision just last week, finds himself right back where he started over a year ago. The opening match on Wired against some guy who sucks more than he does. Rob's thoughts emanate from him as we fade in to him at the gym, currently jogging on a tread mill.
"Two steps forward, three steps back. Thats how it always is for me. I get a title shot, I blow it, I get considered for another title shot, I blow it, I bust my ass and beat people down, getting right there, my finger tips grazing the top, then I blow it again. Is that just my destiny? Is that who I am? I'm just that guy who's good, but not good enough? Am I destined to live in the shadow of my brother? And what do I do now? I went after the Xtreme title and failed. I went after tag gold and failed. I went after the X-Division title and failed. Once I had a dream, and that dream was to be the epitome of what it means to be an American. But maybe I'm just not good enough?... Or maybe... I'm being too nice? Maybe I'm being too fair? Was it fair to drop the bomb on Japan? Not really. Did it get the job done? Yes. Was it fair to attack Iraq with no evidence to back it up? No. Did we free those ungrateful towel heads? We sure did. Maybe my Xtreme American Dream has been all wrong? Maybe it's time to make my dream everyone else's Nightmare."
Slowly, Rob brings the tread mill to a stop. He steps off of it and wipes the sweat from his brow with a towel he had hanging on the railing. Rob picks up his water bottle and takes a generous sip from it before looking over to where the camera is waiting. He gives us one of his half smiles, saying, perhaps, every things gonna be alright.
"So it seems I find myself once again opening up Wired, a spot I haven't had to endure in a very long time now. After months and months of proving to the world I wasn't the joke everyone made me out to be, I end up right where I started in this company. And I'm starting to think that it's a gift, perhaps not a curse. See, I have the chance to start over now, right from the beginning, perhaps not make some of the mistakes I made before."
Rob turns slightly and begins to walk down the length of the gym towards the men's locker room.
"But I'm not alone in this, another has joined me, a man who perhaps deserves to be where he is more so than I do. A man who has yet to prove his worth to this company but wants to so badly. A man who most don't even care to remember his name. This man, my opponent, is Steve Ramone... Insert stupid nickname here..."
Rob goes to keep walking, but half steps and turns back to the camera, looking slightly confused. Even scratching his head.
"I'm gonna be honest with ya Steve, I don't really know **** about you. I mean, I got the basics from watching the Pulse and asking around backstage. But all I can ever really get is, and I quote, "The dude never wins, don't worry bout it." And as reassuring as that is, it's not real advice. I don't really like to underestimate people, mostly because most people underestimate me, you could say, I feel your pain."
Rob scoffs, insinuating sarcasm.
"No, but really, your a new comer here, and before we get into the whole name calling thing I'd like to extend my hand and welcome you to nCw. Nice to meet you champ, how's things going for ya so far?
Rob chuckles, already knowing the answer to that question.
"Actually, I already know how your doing, pretty badly. What have you won, like a single match? Against.... Hexx? Really? Hexx? He's the only guy you've been good enough to beat? You know, I could be a real dick right now and explain to you how Hexx is nCw's version of Tommy Dreamer, meaning, nobody ever loses to him... Well... Almost... The Motor City Mafia was an exception. Personally I think they gang banged Kelly Fox or something, because NO ONE loses to Hexx. But that's really besides the point, isn't it? So no, I won't be a dick do that Steve, because I want our new found friendship to start out on the right foot. Now just forget I ever mentioned anything to do with how unimpressive it is to defeat Hexx in any fashion.
Again he begins to walk towards the men's locker room, taking a sip of his water again.
"The thing is Steve, in nCw, you gotta earn your shots. You can't just float around the company picking up wins here and there against jobbers. I mean if that's how it worked, then Mark Evil would have won the World title for real by now, but he hasn't. In fact the only sympathy champion we've ever had has been Xavier Williams. I've said it before, I'll say it again, affirmative action is a bitch. I know what your thinking right now, and it probably has something to do with picking apart my words, but please don't do it, see I'm not trying to be mean to you Steve, not at all. I've just noticed you struggling and wish to take advantage... I mean give you a hand. American's, true American's have to stick together in this day and age, you know that right Steve? Foreigners and immigrants and illegal aliens and all around fat pieces of **** are tearing this country apart. Men like you and me, we gotta stand proud, we gotta fight back. That's why when we get in the ring on Wired this coming Sunday, I'm going to show you exactly what it takes to be a member of the nCw Roster. Because not only are we both proud American's, but we're going to become real, real good friends."
Rob cops the biggest "****" eating grin you've ever seen as he gives the camera a thumbes up. After what seems like ten miles, Rob has reached the men's locker room. He stands just outside the door as a few other men come and go.
"All this time I've been fighting for my Xtreme American Dream, but now I think it's time I introduced all of you to your Xtreme American Nightmare. Starting with you Steve. Because Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently."
The smiling image of Rob Diamond fades to black.