Post by Patrick Jones on Mar 25, 2015 23:01:12 GMT -6
Have you ever been so close to something you wanted for so long only to have it yanked out from under you at no fault of your own? We have all been there, surely. The prize is all but attained when something outside your control pulls it away. Last week, I experienced that at the hands of Seth Iser. For Katie Moicelle, it would be like tripping on busted track surfact just short of the finish line and watching a competitor beat her while looking up from the ground. For Feolan O'Hannigáin, it would be like losing a drinking contest because someone knocked your beer from your hand. For Steve Herring, it would be like any failure he has ever had since nothing is ever his fault…at least not if you ask him.
Those moments are not just failure. They are a sickening, enraging lack of a definitive answer. In none of those situations is anything proven. The runner who beats Katie might have won anyway…or she might have lost. Feolan might have drank his opponent under the table…or might have ended up puking his guts out while his opposition stands triumphant. Steve might actually get yanked back to reality about himself eventually…or he can stay in LaLa indefinitely. When Seth Iser walked away, that match could have gone either way.
Seth and I had given our best shots. He had already been Zoned Out once, but a fortuitous landing allowed him a reprieve. Then he had me dead to rights after suplexing me on the ramp. Instead of re-entering the ring to stand tall over me, he saw a chance to walk away. Iser denied me the opportunity to truly put myself to the test.
Unfortunately, that same feeling could return this week at my first PPV back and second total in VoW. As seems to be my specialty, I have a knack for finding myself in multi-person matches at Pay-Per-Views. It is a time-honored tradition of mine dating back to TEW that carried on into NEW. They are the wrestling equivalent of fringe benefits. You really have not earned anything yet, but you at least have the chance to earn something against a group of opponents. Just like against Seth, there is certainly the chance to see this match end without any closure for me. If the match finishes between two of the other three, the familiar stench and discomfort of unfinished business will rear its ugly head.
And yes, this HAD been happening since TEW. Maybe the man behind the curse’s beginning would have some insight why I invited this kind of match on myself. Maybe it really just is that age-old problem of too many people trying to be on the big shows, so as a promoter, you just shove a bunch into one match to give them their chance to shine. It could always be more than that though.
“So, bossman, what about me screams ‘I wanna fight more than one person!’?”
Franco looks away from the TV, looking peeved. The tone of his reply gives away how annoyed he is.
“What are you going on about? And when are you going to stop calling me ‘bossman’? Damn it, Jones.”
With a huff, he looks back up to the television. Since whatever is on the screen has clearly bothered him a good deal, I put my own issues aside for the moment to pay attention. The channel is set to ESPN, and the billionth edition of SportsCenter is running. Specifically, one of the many talking heads is discussing boxing.
“In preparation for the May 2nd bout between Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao, there is new information involving Mayweather declining a penalty costing either fighter $5 million if there is a failed drug test leading up to the f...”
The statement remains unfinished because Franco angrily snatches the remote and turns off the TV.
“For years, Mayweather’s camp used Pac’s refusal of such a stipulation as a reason the fight could not be agreed upon. It’s utter shit!”
Annoyance is verging on becoming full-fledged anger. The Bulldozer has clenched both hands into fists. Very effective fists. He better control himself because if he punches any of my stuff then he will be paying for the damages. I prefer my TVs, walls, and other property without holes in them and in one, un-shattered piece. Cruz’s fists have a history of demolishing anything in front of them.
“Bossm…Franco, just chill, man. It’s not even YOUR fight.”
His head jerks up to face me, and his eyes narrow. Catching the word “bossman” before it could entirely pass my lips probably saved my coffee table being in shards. The words from his mouth pour out in a rush of emotion.
“It just doesn’t make any bloody sense! Why would Mayweather be worried about something like this? Pacquiao is the one with the history of failed tests! Could Manny be juicing up to try and get back and edge that Manny picked up by using them before?”
My lack of boxing knowledge leaves me ill-prepared to answer any of the questions or assuage his concerns. Like any other person who follows sports at large, this boxing bout is understood to be a monumental occurrence. Yet, unlike wrestling, these guys seem to bicker over the littlest details. These two have tried to some extent to agree to terms for something like 5 years. Finally, contracts had been signed, and the world would get what it had wanted for too long. The complexity of those contracts and why boxers are so ridiculously picky is beyond me though.
In wrestling, we step into the ring against anyone and everyone. You can be a rookie in your first match ever, a man experienced in the art of fisticuffs, or even a walking source of hot air, and your opponent has little to no power to avoid stepping into the ring with you. The federations give the competitors orders. In boxing, it seems the combatants boss around the promoters. Hopefully, my favorite boxer does not try to boss around any of my home’s furnishings with his fists.
“I don’t really know what those contracts detail, but surely there is SOME punishment for failing a drug test. I’m sure Pacquiao’s camp is just trying to stir up drama. Ya know, any publicity is good publicity. You used that for TEW more than once. Besides, if Manny’s people agreed to a contract without finishing negotiating, he should feel stupid about it, not blame Floyd for not re-opening negotiations.”
Franco sighs, shaking his head again and, very importantly, unclenching his fists.
“You’re right. This is absurd. I want to be mad at Mayweather’s camp, but you’re right. It’s just like Seth for you last week. Floyd and Manny agreed to the rules of engagement then when one of them realizes the rules need a tweak after having contracts had been signed he tries to change them after they have been set. Seth did not like where your match was going with the set rules, so he tried to bend and break them to help himself. Good on you for not backing down and making him decide it best to back away.”
The return of topic to my last match causes me to be the one who tenses up this time. My jaw clenches, causing the next words to come out as a seething whisper.
“For now…”
As my rage builds, a sharp smack hits the side of my face and snaps me back to the here and now.
“Wha…Huh?!”
I look around, wondering what hit my face until I see the grin on Cruz’s face.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
I shake my head, knowing exactly what he means.
“This week is not forgotten. In fact, that was what prompted my first question to you. You seemed to enjoy having me fight multiple people at once too.”
Nodding a bit and smiling, Franco finally gives me the answer I asked for first a few minutes ago.
“You’re perfect for them. Your energy and passion for the competition means you keep the action flowing. Pat, you don’t let the action lull because you are so driven. These matches can flop massively if the competitors are too cautious. You are willing to take the fight to the others in order to give yourself a chance, instead of trying to lie back in wait which is not much fun to watch.”
The answer makes sense. It is true. The reality probably is a mix of his answer and my perpetual state of lying on the fringes of the main event too. Oh well, I will not try to force my former boss to give out all of his old secrets and plans. We have a plane to Canada to catch. I nod to the door and our already packed bags.
“Right, let’s get to Toronto!”
“We’re going to Winnipeg, you idiot!”
Hopefully, I have a clearer path to my destination than Franco does. If I do, I’ll be on the next Pay-Per-View fighting my new friend and trainee, Ziu Zhong…unless Zhong manages to lose his Zero Gravity title before then. Either way, it is PPV time, so that means Patrick Jones has to stand out from the crowd and avoid one of the worst feelings in life…again.
