Why. (Part 2/2)

[Deleted]

“Will I fall? Will I fly?

Heal my soul

Fulfill my high

Cross my heart (Count, count, count, count it)

And hope to die (Count, count, count, count it)

With my slice (Count, count, count, count it)

Of Devil's pie”

Five years.

For five years, I’ve been grinding my fucking ass off.

Through those five years, I’ve told anybody with a clipboard and booking duties to give me anybody, literally anybody. It’s never mattered if it was a green as goose shit rookie, a grizzled and curmudgeonly veteran whose own experience dwarfs mine, or big hitters on equal ground as myself. I’ve always been one to welcome competition from the bottom to the top of the card, because I recognize the importance of being prepared for hunger in all shapes and sizes. The spot that I’ve busted my ass to obtain? That could be gone in the blink of an eye should I ever choose to get complacent and assume my role in this profession as guaranteed.

I’ve seen people fizzle out by being shortsighted and ignoring all peripheral warning, because they thought that tenure or just having got to a certain place on the hierarchy made them invincible. Those who don’t and actually manage to REALLY stick are absolute addicts for that ring with workrate that doesn’t just come by wanting it, but by being in the gym at three and four in the morning, doing the first in a day of multiple sessions. I hope you’re following, Trent, because I want you to understand what separates the men from the boys..what separates me from you.

My five years has been absolute fucking Hell and it’s a Hell that I embrace. I’ve had giants and monsters among men try to tear muscle from bone and anybody with an inkling of power try to keep me from taking the world titles that I’ve wanted, because their idea of the now is flashy. You against me, Trent? Your five years against mine? Complete and total opposites, because while I was working through nagging injuries and fiending for every opportunity I could find to get better..to stay the fucking best..you were MIA. Not that there’s shame in realizing how fucking hard this business is on your body and calling it a day, but keep in mind that I SEE you.

I see the Trent Killjoy who had the joy killed by a torn rotator cuff and thought to himself “Maybe day jobs aren’t such a bad thing.” I commend that Trent, I RESPECT that Trent. What I cannot entertain, however, is the Trent whose return from that five year siesta comes in the form of vying for a world championship, something I’ve been grinding three hundred and sixty five days a year starting at cricket hours trying to get back to. That Trent? That’s a competitor I have no sympathy for. THAT is someone I’m keen to show the gap to, because this matchup shouldn’t have been a conversation.

For your own well being, it shouldn’t have been a thought in anybody’s mind. Though, I’ve never known a front office type who wasn’t a little bit fucked up. My inclusion here is due to being undeniable. It’s not about me being tight with Brit, but rather her and the OCW board having even a smidge of business sense, because Spencer Adams provides Brinks truck profits and six star performances. You on the other hand…you’re a little bit more of a thinker in this situation, but I do believe I’ve cracked the code on why you’ve been given this shot. Which..let’s be clear, it was GIVEN to you, not taken or earned…but I’ll digress on that one.

The REASON for Trent Killjoy taking on Spencer Adams is that you have questions to answer. Everybody and their grandmother knows who I am, what I’m about, and what I’m capable of..but half a decade spent watching people like me in an armchair has left you a bit of an unknown. There’s a morbid curiosity in the degree of punishment you’ll be able to take. “Can he or can’t he hang?” and well…there’s not a “no” more definite than this one. You do not have a fighter’s chance in this thing, because you aren’t a fighter.

You are a white flag waving.

I can appreciate what Ally’s doing, what she’s trying to do for you..but why should she have to? What contender worth a shit has to be drug out of the house by more capable talent just to shrug and decide to give it another go? What champion ever needed convincing? I’d ask you to show me one, but Waldo isn’t in this story. I’m out here to etch my name in stone and ink a permanent image and your coloring outside the lines, because those nerves got you shaking. Spencer Adams has you fucking NERVOUS. Your hesitation is weakness and well documented weakness at that and while you’re free to shake and give all of this a second thought..while the world welcomes you to give this a second thought and tuck tail..just understand..

I won’t.

---

I was alone. Some of it by choice, some of it not. Sure, I found myself around a familiar face in Ally, but knew that her ties to both myself and Trent made involvement at this time a touch too messy. I also knew that avoiding the media circus that came with OCW’s return and my involvement in it would be crucial. In a lot of ways, I was alone, because I needed to be. I needed eyes in the back of my skull and to be uninhibited by the showbiz side of Revival.

I’ve prepared myself for the worst case scenario, for anybody who may try to play the part of the spoiler. Crooked management had been the nail in the coffin for my AW career and I felt a certain level of hatred in my gut at the thought of somebody trying to repeat history in that sense. The followers, the people who had my back and had flanked me for the majority of my post-AW ventures, had been a godsend, a bright spot in an often bleak industry..but this moment had to be mine. It had to be me sitting in the dark waiting. Out of sight..out of mind.

The first time I won a world championship, I had Kyle Kemp and the rest of #FightSmart by my side. Five years later and this was JUST Spencer Adams. There would be nobody else to affect the result in my favor and to many detractors, that was the “but” in my legacy. The Rise World title presented the opportunity to erase that and as I wound wrist tape along my hand and through individual fingers, I could think of nothing other than breaking that stigma by doing this “the right way”.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

I lift my head towards the handle and clench my left fist, allowing my fingernails to dig into the fleshy center of my palm as I round the corner instinctually with the athletic tape.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Spencer. It’s time to go, man!

Recognizing the voice as one of them, I pushed up against the top of my thighs to a vertical base and towards the handle. With a harsh tug, I found myself face to face with a half dozen ski masks as the same voice spoke above the pack.

Go time! You got this, brother, you fucking got this!

Spencer: Do me a favor.

Anything.

Spencer: Don’t get involved out there.

---

What are you going to do, Britlyn?

What are you going to do when Rise’s first world champion isn’t somebody on your payroll, but a freelancer who is standing here telling you that he has no intention of holding that belt to represent YOU or your company, someone who is here to set a standard that acts in opposition to the way this business has operated for decades? Have you gotten that far or were you more concerned about that initial gate and the buyrates for this federation’s resurrection?

What are you going to do, Trent?

When Spencer Adams has you in a 1-0 hole with nowhere to go but down, will you scramble for an escape to provide you with the solace you gave up when you signed your name on the dotted line? Will you look for Ally’s face to ask her why she thought bringing you along for the ride here was a good idea? What is your answer when you have none..when you’re asked to be an improviser and an iron man who knows full fucking well that he doesn’t have that dog in him?

What are you going to do, OCW?

How will you respond when it’s my name shooting up your rankings and showing you where the bar is in that ring? Will you fold like Trent is about to or will you take me up on my challenge and try to prove to me and every single ticket holder and home viewer that you’re capable of that rise towards a spot like mine? Will you take a day off? Will you take opportunity for granted..or will you look up at Spencer Adams like I had to the vets who came before me and show me something I don’t see often enough?

Don’t worry, I’ll answer your questions.

I just hope you do the same.