Post by Craig Anderson on May 8, 2016 19:52:32 GMT -6
~ It was my decision
~ Off camera
“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t get any of my children into wrestling!”
Oh, great. Mother is angry again. Failing to think straight. Not able to see the bigger picture. Let’s go back in time just a matter of minutes shall we? We’ll find out how we got to this point.
“So, how’s my professional football player?”, my mother asks; her face beaming with pride. I’m destined for greatness - I’m going to be one of the most celebrated athletes in the world. She opens her arms, expecting me to run into them excitedly.
“Well, umm, I didn’t sign anything…” I announce, with slight regret. I lower my hood, to look her in the eye. I sit down on the arm of the settee and, with my hands interlocked, rub the back of my head. I sigh, as she places her arm around my shoulders and sits next to me.
“It’s okay, sweetie. You have offers from other clubs; Liverpool are idiots not to have signed you!” [/color]she claims, with a hint of aggression in her tone. She pulls my head close to her body, giving me one of those irritating mum hugs.
“No, mum. Really…” I try to get her attention, but it’s no use. She’s naturally stubborn; and only listens to what she wants to hear.
“Nonono - I’m having none of it. Another club will come calling very soon, and I’m sure they’ll do all it takes to sign you!” She stands up, a huge comforting grin on her face. Randy shakes his head, as he steps forward.
“You just never listen, do you?” he asks. He places his car keys down on the table and hands me my bag, which I throw across the room without hesitation. My mother stares daggers into him. If looks could kill…
“What is that supposed to mean?!”, she rasps in a confrontational manner. She places her right hand on her hip.
“Mum… I want to be a wrestler.” I express, with a large sigh. She slowly turns around, staring at me wide-mouthed. Almost frozen in horror.
“You… you… why?!” She’s almost on the verge of tears. She’s seen her brother wrestle for a few years now; and she had always hoped that her sons wouldn’t follow in his footsteps. Before I can mutter a reply, she turns around to Randal and approaches him. In anger, she delivers a slap across his face. No remorse, either.
“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t get any of my children into wrestling!” She drops to her knees, as if her entire world had been destroyed.
“This wasn’t my doing”, he responds as he rubs his cheek to numb the pain. Of course, she doesn’t believe him. I’m a child; I’m clearly incapable of making life-changing decisions all by myself… at least in her mind.
“No, mum. Really. It’s all my choice!” I’m sick and tired of being molded into what my parents want me to be. As soon as they heard that Liverpool F.C. were wanting to offer me a contract, they told me all about how it’s the best thing that I could ever do. But it’s not what I wanted. I want what’s best for me; and what’s best for me is wrestling.
“I’m becoming a wrestler, and there’s nothing you can say to stop me!” With serious hesitation, she accepts my decision. Though, it must be said, she’s not entirely happy about it…
~ I don’t think we’ve met…
~ On camera
“Hello, Tyron.” The scene fades into the confines of my hotel room; a small, but certainly luxury suite. An unopened bottle of champagne sits on the countertop, right next to a box of vintage chocolate.
“I don’t believe we’ve met each other before, my good chap. So allow me to introduce myself, though I’m sure you already know who I am.” I parade about the room in my maroon dressing gown, carrying a glass bottle of Irn Bru in my left hand.
“I’m Craig Anderson; a second-generation professional wrestler. I try to be modest, but even I have to admit that I’m a pretty big deal. I win Championships pretty much everywhere I go, and at the tender age of just twenty-five-years, some would go as far to call me a ring-veteran.” I hate tooting my own horn; it’s something that Smuggy McSmugface would do. But in this case, I could certainly make an exception.
“But I don’t need to tell you any of this. Because you know exactly who I am, don’t you? You watched me in OWA, paving the way so that guys like you could even have the opportunity of calling themselves a Champion. You watched me put on five-star matches with the very best that the BWN had to offer; but what about you, Tyron? Your biggest success came after the BWN had folded, and I’m going to take credit for that too. Because I paved the way for us BWN guys. I proved that we’re not one-trick ponies; that we can make it elsewhere. I conquered WEW - long before you had made your VoW debut. But that’s not enough for me. Wrestling is what I do better than anything else, and I won’t stop until it is the thing that I do better than EVERYBODY else!”
“What about you though, Tyron? How is it that such a charming fellow like yourself can find himself hated by roughly ninety-nine-percent of the world’s population? You see, Tyron… I know all about you. I know you better than you know yourself. How is that possible, you ask? Well, we’re not too different, you and I. Before I took a sabbatical from wrestling, I was young, arrogant, violent, paranoid and deluded. From where I’m standing, you fill all of the criteria. I’ve done a lot of horrible things in my career, Tyron; things a lot of people would be ashamed of. But I’ve never sunk as low as betraying my best friend; depriving him of his special moment. It doesn’t surprise me, though. Because you and Heath, you’ve never really gotten along have you? It all may have appeared hunky-dorey between the pair of you, but you’ve got history. How can you trust a man who you’ve gone to war with? Heath should have known better, but that’s a story for another day. Because tonight is about you, Tyron. Tonight, you get to go one-on-one with myself. This is your chance to prove to the entire world that you are as good as you think you are, because tonight you are up against world-class opposition. I’m not intimidated by you, and if you think you’re going to make an example out of me, well… let’s just say that you’re going to be sadly mistaken.”
I flash a smile to the camera, followed by taking a swig of Irn Bru. “I’ll see you tonight, Tyron. Don’t be late for a very important date!”
~ Off camera
“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t get any of my children into wrestling!”
Oh, great. Mother is angry again. Failing to think straight. Not able to see the bigger picture. Let’s go back in time just a matter of minutes shall we? We’ll find out how we got to this point.
“So, how’s my professional football player?”, my mother asks; her face beaming with pride. I’m destined for greatness - I’m going to be one of the most celebrated athletes in the world. She opens her arms, expecting me to run into them excitedly.
“Well, umm, I didn’t sign anything…” I announce, with slight regret. I lower my hood, to look her in the eye. I sit down on the arm of the settee and, with my hands interlocked, rub the back of my head. I sigh, as she places her arm around my shoulders and sits next to me.
“It’s okay, sweetie. You have offers from other clubs; Liverpool are idiots not to have signed you!” [/color]she claims, with a hint of aggression in her tone. She pulls my head close to her body, giving me one of those irritating mum hugs.
“No, mum. Really…” I try to get her attention, but it’s no use. She’s naturally stubborn; and only listens to what she wants to hear.
“Nonono - I’m having none of it. Another club will come calling very soon, and I’m sure they’ll do all it takes to sign you!” She stands up, a huge comforting grin on her face. Randy shakes his head, as he steps forward.
“You just never listen, do you?” he asks. He places his car keys down on the table and hands me my bag, which I throw across the room without hesitation. My mother stares daggers into him. If looks could kill…
“What is that supposed to mean?!”, she rasps in a confrontational manner. She places her right hand on her hip.
“Mum… I want to be a wrestler.” I express, with a large sigh. She slowly turns around, staring at me wide-mouthed. Almost frozen in horror.
“You… you… why?!” She’s almost on the verge of tears. She’s seen her brother wrestle for a few years now; and she had always hoped that her sons wouldn’t follow in his footsteps. Before I can mutter a reply, she turns around to Randal and approaches him. In anger, she delivers a slap across his face. No remorse, either.
“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t get any of my children into wrestling!” She drops to her knees, as if her entire world had been destroyed.
“This wasn’t my doing”, he responds as he rubs his cheek to numb the pain. Of course, she doesn’t believe him. I’m a child; I’m clearly incapable of making life-changing decisions all by myself… at least in her mind.
“No, mum. Really. It’s all my choice!” I’m sick and tired of being molded into what my parents want me to be. As soon as they heard that Liverpool F.C. were wanting to offer me a contract, they told me all about how it’s the best thing that I could ever do. But it’s not what I wanted. I want what’s best for me; and what’s best for me is wrestling.
“I’m becoming a wrestler, and there’s nothing you can say to stop me!” With serious hesitation, she accepts my decision. Though, it must be said, she’s not entirely happy about it…
~ I don’t think we’ve met…
~ On camera
“Hello, Tyron.” The scene fades into the confines of my hotel room; a small, but certainly luxury suite. An unopened bottle of champagne sits on the countertop, right next to a box of vintage chocolate.
“I don’t believe we’ve met each other before, my good chap. So allow me to introduce myself, though I’m sure you already know who I am.” I parade about the room in my maroon dressing gown, carrying a glass bottle of Irn Bru in my left hand.
“I’m Craig Anderson; a second-generation professional wrestler. I try to be modest, but even I have to admit that I’m a pretty big deal. I win Championships pretty much everywhere I go, and at the tender age of just twenty-five-years, some would go as far to call me a ring-veteran.” I hate tooting my own horn; it’s something that Smuggy McSmugface would do. But in this case, I could certainly make an exception.
“But I don’t need to tell you any of this. Because you know exactly who I am, don’t you? You watched me in OWA, paving the way so that guys like you could even have the opportunity of calling themselves a Champion. You watched me put on five-star matches with the very best that the BWN had to offer; but what about you, Tyron? Your biggest success came after the BWN had folded, and I’m going to take credit for that too. Because I paved the way for us BWN guys. I proved that we’re not one-trick ponies; that we can make it elsewhere. I conquered WEW - long before you had made your VoW debut. But that’s not enough for me. Wrestling is what I do better than anything else, and I won’t stop until it is the thing that I do better than EVERYBODY else!”
“What about you though, Tyron? How is it that such a charming fellow like yourself can find himself hated by roughly ninety-nine-percent of the world’s population? You see, Tyron… I know all about you. I know you better than you know yourself. How is that possible, you ask? Well, we’re not too different, you and I. Before I took a sabbatical from wrestling, I was young, arrogant, violent, paranoid and deluded. From where I’m standing, you fill all of the criteria. I’ve done a lot of horrible things in my career, Tyron; things a lot of people would be ashamed of. But I’ve never sunk as low as betraying my best friend; depriving him of his special moment. It doesn’t surprise me, though. Because you and Heath, you’ve never really gotten along have you? It all may have appeared hunky-dorey between the pair of you, but you’ve got history. How can you trust a man who you’ve gone to war with? Heath should have known better, but that’s a story for another day. Because tonight is about you, Tyron. Tonight, you get to go one-on-one with myself. This is your chance to prove to the entire world that you are as good as you think you are, because tonight you are up against world-class opposition. I’m not intimidated by you, and if you think you’re going to make an example out of me, well… let’s just say that you’re going to be sadly mistaken.”
I flash a smile to the camera, followed by taking a swig of Irn Bru. “I’ll see you tonight, Tyron. Don’t be late for a very important date!”
