All I ever wanted to do my whole life was wrestle. That's it. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I mean let's face it, at some point in time, we all made that decision that professional wrestling was where it's at. We all fell in love with the in-ring action, the over the top characters. Violence only for the sake of violence..
It was beautiful.
But there were a select few, like myself, who wanted to take things to the next level. We wanted to step inside of that 20x20 square foot ring. Feel that adrenaline flow through our bodies, the madness we put our bodies through on a nightly basis. The question remains, is it worth it?
Is it worth going out in front of those people every night? The pain and torture we put our bodies through, just to say we are the best? In my honest opinion, yes it does, because why else would we do the things we do. A slam here, a punch there, going through tables, scaring ourselves with barbwire. Anything to prove that we deserve that respect.
But with anything that happens in life, no matter how much you already proven. You still have to prove some more.
I sat outside the Radio City Music Hall, exhausted from the night that was at hand. Autograph signings, Hall of Fame, it was all new to me. I'd been in the business roughly five, going on six years. I remember jerking curtains and setting up rings for the veterans who came before me.
But I sat there, contemplating smoking a blunt. But in lieu of my recent legal troubles, I thought twice against it.. Didn't really need them people in my life again. But I needed a moment to just clear my head think.
Get some shit in order, so to speak. Freddie and me had a title defense coming up, and I honestly didn't know how to approach it. Sure we could get Jarvis to help us out, but in the long run, that really wasn't the M.O. I mean sure we’ve caused a few distractions here and there. But a man stands on his own two feet inside of that ring.
I sat there in the darkness, just me…. And my thoughts… I soon notice a cameraman who makes his way over towards me, I guess looking for comments about the upcoming tag title match. I sat there quietly, as the pointed the camera at me, waiting for a statement, a cough, at least some type of reaction from me.
Stone cold stare is what they get.
But growing bored of trying to stall it out with this guy, I finally say fuck it.
“I guess I'm s’posed t’sit here and tell ya how I feel bout Mikey Unlikely and Bobby Dean.. T'be real wit y'all, I got nothin’.. Seriously I don't have anything..
I take dat lie back, I do have somethin’ t’say..”
I stand up as the cameraman moves if closer.
“I get it you steal tha straps from tha champs t'get our attention…”
I mockingly begin a slow clap.
“Bravo, fellas y'got it. I guess tha two of ya want beef wit tha Aces.. I mean obviously y'all want these problems…”
The clap ends.
“Well y'all got ‘em, I mean it's crazy t'me dat y'all muthafuckas had tha audacity t'steal our fuckin’ belts!”
I shake my head.
“I could'a sworn we was tha fuckin’ crooks.. Shit’s crazy, I mean my mind is truly blown by tha fact dat Boobie and Mickey thought it was a brilliant idea t'fuck wit us..
Like it isn't bad enough dat we got an opinionated asshole like Jimmy Allen, who's startin’ t'get unda’ my skin a lil mo’ than I care t'admit.. But days dat's a story fo’ anotha day.
Back ta Dean and Unlikely, what I find amusin’ is dat tha two of ya have no relevancy in anything pertainin’ t’tha tag straps.”
Anger begins to build within my body.
“Did you two not learn from Evolution? When it comes t’tha Aces, ain't no mercy! By any means necessary we are out ta prove dat we are Tha Glass Ceiling round dis bitch! Dat whether anyone wants t'admit it or not, we are everything dat is right with CWF! Dat we don't need dark magic and connections t'make it t’tha top, we rise through tha ranks, cause we're dat fuckin’ good!
I tried t’do my homework, I tried t'do tha research, but honestly whateva tha two of ya have done befo’ comin’ here, don't mean shit! Dis our house! Welcome t'our world! Tha days are long gone from tha hit singles and featured flicks.. There won't be any subway sandwiches so Bobo can eat fresh, only pain! Pure and unadulterated pain….”
A chuckle escape my body.
“Y’see a CHALLENGE was laid down fo'a Street Fight… But tha powers dat be knew dat wasn't what y'all wanted, so they handed it off ta Az and Luke.. But come Wrestle Fest, Freddie and me are gonna give y'all what y'all NEED! And that's an asswhoopin’ unparalleled ta anything the two of ya eva’ received in ya life!”
I take a moment to compose myself, really needing to spark up, but not taking the risk.
“I'm sorry y'all.. I got caught in tha moment.. I just HATE t'have things stolen from me… How would you feel, biggest show of tha year. Y'got ta defend ya straps..”
I look down around my empty waist.
“AND IT'S NOWHERE IN FUCKIN’ SIGHT!
But we're tha bad guys! The Aces and Glass Ceiling are the villians of dis movie. Just fo’ standin’ up fo’ what we believe in.. Fair competition, marquee matches fo’ all talent, and not have shit politiced t’death by Taxi and Tha Forsaken!
Gimme a fuckin’ break…
Mark my words, dis time next year, tha days of gloom and darkness no longer clouds tha foundation dat is Championship Wrestling Federation.. No longer will ya television screens be filled with repetitive bullshit. They say patience is a virtue, and I've grown ta become a patient man, and I'll be standin’ tall along with my brothas in arms, embracing a new beginnin’.
But like all great plans, it's…
The crisp cool New York night air forcing me to pull my hood over my dreads.
“Until then The Aces got a matta’ of gettin’ our straps back, and I know tha perfect way t'do it..
Madison Square Garden!
TBD versus the Aces!
Like I say, it doesn't matta’ where me or Freddie are placed on the card..”
The camera zooms in on my face, a look of intensity in my eyes.
“We're always tha Main Event…”
With that statement, I shoo the cameraman away as I sit and mentally prepare myself to gain back my possession.
Focus on the brutality and malice that we were going to bring down on Unlikely and Dean for trying to make fools of me and my brother. But people have taken us lightly before.
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."