Post by Swarm on Nov 13, 2010 5:54:01 GMT -5
We begin on an uncharacteristically cold afternoon in the heart of the “City of Angels”, Los Angeles, California. Though surrounded by the everyday life of it’s residents, our focus is not on the city that surround us but rather only two inhabitants of many. A normal person, someone of no significance, would stand out the slightest in the mass of life moving around us. But there are those in this world who, in one way or another, rise above the rest to a life of success. We peer in on one of those men, Alex Sean, as he sits near-motionless in the passenger seat of a jeep driven by Matthew Werner. With his head resting back and eyes closed, it would almost appear that even with the pressures of his chosen profession, he is without a care in the world resting in a near-meditative state. Finally, as the picture becomes clear, the recognizable voice of Matthew Werner begins to speak over the film.
”When I first met Alex Sean, I looked up to him as somewhat of an idol. For almost ten years, I watched his career unfold into what it has become today. From his promising rookie year to his rise to becoming a World Champion and through his drug addiction and overdose, I have seen it all. Just a few short years ago, I was nothing more than an aspiring filmmaker who had a love for professional wrestling. When Alex Sean reformed The Anointed alongside EBR and Calvin Lee in 2006, that love drove me to drop out of college with the hopes of documenting this attempted revolution. Maybe it was my pitch, or maybe he just felt the same way I did, that what he was doing was worth being immortalized, but Alex Sean agreed and for a few months, I spent almost every waking moment documenting the life of Alex Sean. Nevertheless, as I was around him more and more, something changed. I stopped seeing the former WFWF Champion and Hall of Famer, the legend, but rather the man behind all of that. I saw him as an individual with the same flaws and doubts as everyone else. Maybe it was not fair to hold him to the standard I had set, but regardless my adoration drifted away into a memory of the past likely to never return.”
As we travel farther down the road, every once in a while, Matthew Werner looks over toward Alex Sean. Perhaps looking to say something and being deterred by Sean’s restful state, or perhaps just looking for a change in his demeanor, it is unclear.
”And yet when I am around him, my attention is drawn to him. You see, Alex Sean is the type of man who only allows you to know him to a certain level. He is a man of definitive action and vague motivation. His ability to convince most people to do just about anything is contrasted by his willingness to take the path of most resistance, often challenging an institution or a philosophy rather than individuals. He engages in wars that even he knows he can’t possibly win and yet, time and time again, he walks the same road. My belief is that for all of the skills he possesses, for all that he is capable of doing, Alex Sean is incapable of peaking against an opponent he knows he can beat.”
We reach our destination; The George C. Page museum built alongside the La Brea Tar Pits. Werner pulls in to the drive way and hits the breaks, Sean’s eyes opening upon their halt. Werner turns off the engine and the two men exit the vehicle approaching the entrance of the building.
”But if that’s the case, I suppose the question is; Why? What drives a man like Alex Sean to pursue battles he cannot win? Why struggle in a world you could walk over? And perhaps more importantly, why choose a life of battle over the everyday normal life he seems to covet?”
Upon entering the building, Sean and Werner are immediately ushered down a particular path by the staff. We pass the many artifacts of life found in the tar pit’s depths, our pace too rushed to take the time to catch more than a glimpse of the many fossils on display.
”While I no longer see him as an idol, I still seek to understand someone capable of such great success and such profound internal turmoil. To get to the source of what makes him tick because when the legend of Alex Sean is printed in the record books…”
Finally they reach an unmarked door and with a nod from the guard in front of it, they pass through and out of sight.
”… I want to be the one who figured him out.”
With that, we fade momentarily to black. A pause on the darkness, and then we begin to fade back in to an unfamiliar scene. Gone are the streets we drove or the artifacts we passed, but rather we find ourselves staring at the La Brea pits themselves, a powerful spotlight the only source of illumination in the dead of night. With Matthew Werner now out of frame, or focus is only on Alex Sean who is crouched at the edge of the ground looking in to one of the pits.
Alex Sean: I don’t think I have to tell anybody that there’s been a lot on my mind recently. From Rated X in the XWA to losing my title, King Kraig, my divorce… It’s like Jay Z said; I’ve got 99 problems but a b*tch ain’t one.
Fulfilling his quota of jabs at his ex wife, Sean chuckles for a moment then resumes.
Alex Sean: But I guess that’s not entirely true. After all, I’ve still got this match with Thunder.
Sean pauses for a moment, hoping people got that joke.
Alex Sean: You know I’ve got to be honest; In all of my career of being hated on by people I’m better than, for all those who questioned my abilities and my character, Thunder might just be the all-time greatest at hating on Alex Sean. I mean, why not? He’s gotta be the best at something, right? It certainly isn’t winning matches.
Once again pausing for comedic effect, Sean takes a moment then resumes.
Alex Sean: It’s funny; Just a few short months ago I warned Thunder that if he sought to be my enemy that he would live to regret it, and how does he return the favor? He spends the next three months talking sh*t about me and steals what’s realistically still my title.
Turning toward us, Sean begins to address Thunder directly.
Alex Sean: You know Thunder, I’ll be honest, I had you figured as smarter than that. I thought you understood where you were in regard to me. I tried to help you out and now you want to be my enemy. And the sad thing? Is even with your disrespect, your arrogance, and your futile attempt to target me, truth be told, I really couldn’t possibly even care less about you because really, at the end of the day, you’re not worth it. Beating you means, at best, I’m better than someone who isn’t as good as EBR, DGX, Braden Munroe, Wayne McGurk, and High Horror. I’m the greatest of all time and I’ve been reduced to proving I’m, at best, in the top six. And the truth is, you’re pretty stupid, but even you know that if all I had to make me care about this match was your abilities, I wouldn’t even take the time to pick up the free plane ticket. Nah, you understand clearly that I have nothing to prove by beating you so you’ve tried to make it personal and drag my name in the dirt.
Sean’s volume begins to rise as his tone grows more confident and defiant.
Alex Sean: You said that I couldn’t keep a woman, that I expect preferential treatment and politick my way into title shots. You say I’m only out for myself and you know what Thunder? You’re right. Everything you’ve ever said about me, all the sh*t that you’ve talked, it’s all true. I did lose my wife and I do politick my way into title shots, I won’t deny it. Not when the guy calling me out on it is lined up for a title shot based off a six match losing streak. Let’s be real, you’re just bitter because unlike you, when I politick my way into title shots I actually win the belt. Oh, but hey I guess that doesn’t matter, does it? After all, you’ve got that belt, right? Possession is nine-tenths and all that?
A sly smirk crawls over Sean’s face as he continues.
Alex Sean: Yeah, see Thunder, I know your type. In this business, guys like you are a dime a dozen, Thunder. Good enough to hover around the best but never a part of it, guys like you take the most drastic of measures just to delude yourselves into, if only in daydreams, truly believe that you can hang with the best. Maybe that’s why you keep High Horror around, so you can fuel your fantasies of greatness with the praise of the one person on the planet who actually thinks you’re worth something. It’s so pathetic, Thunder, having your little toadie grovel at your feet, ready to answer your every beck and call.
Sean pauses once again.
Alex Sean: But the real tragedy of it all is that for all that you’ve done, even if it succeeds, even if in a thousand years our bodies are found in tar pits just like these and in your hands is the WFWF Championship. Even if the civilization of the future finds your remains and your are forever immortalized, passed from museum to museum as the great champion of the human race, even if all of that happens, even if you get your legacy and my name is forgotten or disgraced, you’re going to die knowing that I was better than you. So you can have my title, Thunder, and you can throw dirt on my name and you can have your legacy. I don’t need any of that because I actually win matches. So good luck, Thunder, and I hope at the very least…
Sean smirks once again.
Alex Sean: … It might be a little fun. Namaste.
And with that, the image of Sean freezes and his last words echo out. After a few moments, we fade.
