Defining Moment: A Josh Dean Dream Catcher RP

[jdfranchise]

Defining Moment

Let’s talk about defining moments, sometimes you’re ready for them and sometimes you’re not. The term “defining moment” gets thrown around so much that it’s become a damn cliché anymore. But there are people in the office who tell the announcers and “suggest” us employees use it as a buzz word. Their suggestion is really a nice way of saying “do it to put this sh*t over, or lose a little bit of your paycheck.” I don’t need the money honestly, because I have more than I know what to do with. But I don’t like the idea of losing money that was agreed to be paid to me just because I believe constantly using the phrase bastardizes the meaning. So here we go, and I fully expect the full amount to be directly deposited into my kids’ trust fund.


A defining moment is a moment that no matter what else you do in your career or your life, that’s the one that people are going to remember you for. A crash and burn off the top of a structure that risks a person’s well-being. People are going to remember what Crow and Trace Demon did that night in the name of victory.

Some would call that a defining moment.


To me, a defining moment is Shawn Malakai, cancer stricken and truthfully should be on a deathbed somewhere… surviving four animals inside a cell to walk out of SuperBrawl with the strap. He did it his way, even with his own body fighting him alongside his enemies. It’s a moment that he deserves.


A defining moment can also be for the wrong reasons. Take Dex for example. The defining moment for him thus far in his early career is defeating the legend of ZMaster in his swan song. No matter if ZMaster was only there in body for the past decade, that’s a name to have on the mantle nevertheless. But what could end up being a defining moment for him for the wrong reason is what happened on Reborn, when he was awarded the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship. Now that I’ve been in the ring with Dex, I can safely say that while the guy has some skill, this moment can ruin him because he simply isn’t ready. He might as well get used to hearing people say that about him because he is going to hear it for the rest of his career that he got gift wrapped the most prestigious title in this business. The moment he should be the proudest of gets overshadowed by the act of charity.


Talk about setting a guy up for failure, because now we’re just pitching future contenders softballs.


Sometimes a defining moment is more about what you didn’t do as opposed to what you actually did. Take a decade in the making dream match. Instant classic, possibly the greatest match that this company has ever put on. One man won, the other lost. A snubbed handshake later and that match has a hell of a stank on it.


You may not care about it, and I don’t expect you to.


Me, however, I do. Unapologetically I care that the sportsmanship a match like that deserves was ignored.


If that’s a problem that I care about a match that I wasn’t involved in, too ing bad. It’s honestly a good thing that I care about this company enough to make it an issue with certain people, because no one else seems to give a damn about how the rest of the real world perceives this profession!


They say perception is reality. A lot of people would perceive this as a huge chance for little ole me to get a defining moment at the expense of one of the greatest to step into a WFWF ring.


No offense to you Isaac “Drakz” Cray, but this isn’t that kind of match.


Let’s not ing kid ourselves into thinking that it is.

******

Raleigh Rucker Funeral Home


Decatur, Georgia


June 3, 2014

I hate funerals. Everyone making a complete ass of themselves crying over someone who they barely associated themselves with during the life of the dearly departed. That isn’t always the case, because some of the people in attendance were actually very close to said person and are legitimately saddened to see them leave this Earth. But for every person that genuinely grieves at a funeral, you have fifty or so that do it for the attention.


That’s why I hate funerals. I go for the right reason, to pay my respects. And as I look in the main service area where my friend Mark lies awaiting his final resting place, I get a nauseous feeling in my stomach because I see the ones that maybe only met Mark a handful of times in his life. They’re the ones that are crying their eyes out and smearing makeup all over the place. Half the motherers in that room probably had no idea why he, a young man in his mid-30’s, is lying in a casket that’s usually reserved for the elderly or the terminally ill. I could see his widow, Terri, about seven months pregnant and a wreck of emotions that can’t be too healthy for the unborn baby. She knew.


I knew. I knew this day was coming for roughly twelve years.


This is why I don’t have a lot of friends. Because I can see through their facades like it was the damn looking glass. Anyone that made it past the initial cordialness that makes up my usual even demeanor, well they usually for some unknown reason end up where he is right now. Sometimes I think it’s just one of God’s many reminders directed at me to live my life right. And the obscenities I could be screaming at a lot of these people for being the showmen they are wouldn’t do me any favors with the man upstairs. That’s why I’m keeping it to myself, playing out the scenario in my head where I storm the front of the room and Spear the sh*t out of the hood looking dude sitting in the front row boo hoo’ing like a little girl with a skinned knee over and over in my head like it was stuck on the endless loop. It’s hard to take someone like that seriously when they don’t even have respect for the deceased to move their ing hat. It’s all a big game to this *sshole. This *sshole’s shtick reminds me a lot of what I’ve noticed recently from my opponent at Dream Catcher, Drakz.


This isn’t a game to me. This isn’t a publicity stunt to give me babyface pops when I step in the ring with Drakz at Dream Catcher, where the announcers can give the whole “He’s certainly brave for agreeing to wrestle tonight with so much grief on his mind and heart.” In fact, Drakz is the furthest thing from my mind at this point.


No, this is real life. A real life reminder of the biggest lesson that Mark taught me a long, long time ago.


******

UWF PRESENTS: RING KINGS


Carolina Coliseum


Columbia, South Carolina


June 14, 2002


11:35 PM

Tonight he was supposed to have my back out there, yet he was nowhere to be found. Ghost! And the worst part of it was that ing Perry Smith didn’t even seem like he could be bothered to find me a partner. So I went out there for a street fight against the best tag team in the world, alone, and got my ass handed to me. It’s not so much the fact that I closed the show looking up at the lights because hell it won’t be the last time it will happen to me. I’ve still got my title but right now as I push open that curtain that’s the least of my concern. I want some ing answers, I deserve some ing answers for why the guy who for the last month has been sitting there saying that he would go into this battle with me would just no show me like this.


I don’t even see anyone in my path, and to be honest, with the mood that I’m in it’s probably a good thing that the path is clear. All I want to do is wrap my hands around the throats of one of those two twats that caused the blood that I have on my hands from that match. I know it’s mostly mine from that brutal chair shot to the face. I probably should have the doc look at me, but I want Smith and McMillion to see me looking like Carrie from The Rage. They need to know what happened to me out there was their fault.


I see that motherer’s office in sight with the door closed. Big shocker there, since he only seems to deal with talent when giving them their marching orders for the show. I’m in a position to where I usually don’t complain, but something is majorly wrong here. I don’t even know if I grabbed the door handle on the way in with the way I barged in the door. There he was, sitting behind the desk, signing off on some paperwork like a putz. I’m almost positive he can’t read or write because all he’s doing is scribbling what he could pass off as a signature so he can push the paper’s through. But hey, I’m a sixteen year old kid that just finished his sophomore year of high school, so most people would question what I really knew. What I know at this point is the longer I stand there without getting acknowledged, the more annoyed I get on top of already being pissed.


“A-hem.” I finally break the silence and make that corporate pile of stool recognize that his champion was standing in front of him, bleeding all over his prized Persian rug. He glances up from the stack of papers, but still scribbling his chicken scratch signature on the papers. “You wanna explain this to me!”


“Whoa! That’s a genuine Persian rug!” He shoots out of his chair and rushes over to push me off the rug. While in all reality, he pushed like a b*tch, I still moved back to give him the feel he still had some authority. “Now, what is exactly you want to know?”


“I wanna know where the McMillion was, cause he sure as hell wasn’t in the ring with me tonight against Defton and Martinez!” Blood is seeping down, and as I look down there is a burgundy hue on the arena’s concrete floor from where some has dried. “Right now, this blood as far as I’m concerned is your fault.”


Smith returns to his desk. Apparently, now he wants to play innocent bystander and transfer all of my rage over to McMillion. I’m not at all amused, because I know the slimy bastard is hiding something from me. Typical ing promoter, always trying to pass their share of the blame. Back to the stack of papers he goes.


“Maybe you need to take your frustrations up with the guy who hung you out to dry.” He says with a arrogant little smirk on his face. Just another reason I’m really beginning to hate working for this guy. “After all, I was too busy running the show tonight.”


“Wait, hold the phone. What the hell kind of promoter sits around and doesn’t even know what’s going on with his own talent?” I lean over his desk, making sure that my blood gets all over that stack of papers he seems more enthused in than having this conversation. “Do you expect me to actually believe this crap you’re trying to sell me?”


“These are sponsorship agreements!” Smith shot out at me as he hastily tries to move the papers.“You know, so you guys can get paid.”


“Right. I’m so sure that sponsors are gonna want to make a business arrangement with a guy that doesn’t even make sure that his talent is taken care of, but you keep telling yourself that.” I say as I walk around to in front of him, trying to make my blood drip on him because he gets uncomfortable around blood. “You keep telling yourself that what you did to your meal ticket was a smart move. So the way I see it, I’m about five seconds away from having a major problem with you.” Go figure, a wrestling promoter who doesn’t like blood. I lean down as I can feel the blood run down my cheek from the cut below my left eye. “Now where is McMillion?”


“In the locker room. He’s clearing out his stuff.”


That’s never a good sign when someone is clearing their stuff out, but something about this coming so suddenly makes me wonder what exactly went on before the match. Mark McMillion is not the kind of man to make waves and get himself fired. Something else was going on, and considering that Mark is one of my buddies from Robbie’s wrestling school I need to find out even more now. I can’t help but think of the worst possible scenarios.


Maybe he failed a drug screen……no that couldn’t be. Mark barely drank, and that was only to celebrate something. Although the idea of him going into a depressed stupor doesn’t seem that far out of reach now.


Could it be a problem at home? He has been acting kind of odd lately, and he’s usually more laid back than he has been recently. Now I really had to find out.


I entered the locker room, and there sat Mark at his locker. Sure as sh*t, he’s clearing out his locker out. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t solemn, he was almost relieved. Like he had a huge secret that he finally let out and had been waiting to for a long time. Now he could exhale. He looks over and sees me entering into the locker room. I don’t know if it was the blood that was on my face, but Mark is up out of his chair and handing me a towel.


“Dude, you really oughta go see the doc.” He says to me as turns as he goes back clearing out his locker. “You look like you just got your ass kicked.”


“Really, cause that’s how I feel, no thanks to you.” I shoot back as I take the now bloody towel and throw it back at him. “What the hell happened to you?”


“Look Josh I can explain…”


“Well then you better start ing talking, Mark!” I storm over to his locker as he turns away from me. “How could you just ghost on me like that after spending the last month saying that you were going to have my back.”


Looking down on top of his duffle bag, I see an open manila folder. I’ve seen those folders before. Normally, Smith keeps these in a filing cabinet in his office and doesn’t give them to talent unless there is a need to.


“What’s going on, Mark? Why do you have a copy of your medical report?”


“Because this medical report’s the reason I wasn’t in the ring with you tonight.” Mark says as he zips up his duffel bag, hiding his medical report, but not before I saw the diagnosis. “I have a medical condition that I’ve been hiding since Georgia Tech recruited me and it’s finally caught up with me.”


I really didn’t want to press asking too many questions, but a lot of things make a sense now. I’m not a doctor, but remember learning in school that people have a carotid artery on both sides. Mark doesn’t, and I guess Smith was protecting his company by not having a liability. You never want to see someone you care about not be able to do something they love, but I couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to do now.


*******

STREETZ 94.5


Atlanta, Georgia


May 31, 2014

“Sounds to me like someone’s jealous.”


Radio and television interviews are a vital part of the advertising for not only your brand, but the company’s brand. Nikki came down with me to do this interview, mostly because now that she’s under contract with WFWF she needs to become versed in being able to handle media. I used to hate talking to the media because they asked the same questions over and over ad infinitum. Trust me, there are so many ways to answer “is your family going to be a distraction?” Now, I try to have a little fun with the media because a lot of them don’t know any better. But Nikki sums up my feelings perfectly right now.


“Jealous? Care to elaborate?”


I can tell that this guy has only done a handful of interviews before. The dumbfounded look on his face. The lack of research done on his part. Nikki is holding her own mostly because she knows that I’m there to help her. But this guy is an idiot, much like the guy he’s more than likely quoting. No worries, I’ll deal with him personally at Dream Catcher.


“Yeah, but first can you tell me who sent that in?” Nikki says, flipping the question back on the poor sap that’s just trying to do this interview. That’s my girl. “Just so we can possibly rule him out.”


“It came from anonymous.” The DJ says to Nikki. I’m trying my best to stay involved. “Sorry about that.”


“Oh what a load of horsesh*t!” I finally decide to interject myself in this interview. ing people. “First off guy, you’re the like eighth person that’s asked me that question today. Second off, what I find interesting is that whoever asked that question is going by anonymous. It’s ok, Drakz or Schneider can talk about this beautiful woman like she’s a liability to me. But if she was a liability, I wouldn’t have trained her to become part of this profession. And if that makes me a decided underdog, well I’ve always liked being considered an underdog. To me, taking a pop shot at my wife is a scared guy trying to get me to lose my temper so that I could be off my game. So really, are you ing kidding me with not having a clue of who this came from?”


I could tell this guy had no clue what to ask, so I figured I’d give him some help in doing this interview. I should be in the gym if for no other reason than to work out some kinks in my transition game. That’s what cost me against Brennan at SuperBrawl, but no, I’m here doing this waste of my damn time with this interview. But hell, I must be popular and well respected with the fans because I don’t hear anyone clamoring for Drakz, Schneider or any of these other ers on the roster to do an interview. They ask me to give them an interview because I’m the nice guy, I’m the guy that shows the respect for the brand when it gives nothing back.


“I’m sorry, Nikki.” I give my beautiful bride a look of let’s get the hell out of here as I turn back to the mic. “I’m sorry that some miserable cretin who can’t find happiness outside of the wrestling ring wants to dump on me because I did. When I broke my neck, it was the painful reminder that we only have a short time in this business to make as much money as we possibly could. I walked away from it and found that and he’s jealous because I didn’t need to come back to prove a point. I came back because as thankless as this business is, I still love it because it provided me the life I wanted. Why does it seem so much like a cardinal sin that I’ve done that?”


I glance over at the nameless, faceless DJ who asks the same annoying questions that most of the people in the media profession are classically trained to ask. He has the blank dumbfounded look that most people get because such a simple concept must be so profound. The cellphone in my pocket starts vibrating. I check it and see that the name on the caller ID is Mark McMillion. Putting a finger up. I take the headset off for a moment to answer the phone.


“Hello.” I say as I answer the phone. “What, Mark’s dead? Ok, yeah Nikki and I will be there as soon as we can. Ok, Terri. Bye.”


My heart sank as I sat there with my mouth wide open, Nikki takes her headset off. The poor smuck DJ is frozen. There is an awkward silence on the air. I lean over the mic, because someone needed to break the silence.


“Ok listeners, I’m sorry to cut the interview short, but there are some personal things that need my attention. But rest assured, I will be at Dream Catcher.”


******

My friend, Mark McMillion, died of a heart attack the morning of my interview with Streetz 94.5. Twelve years ago in the Carolina Coliseum, I found out that Mark suffered from having a missing left carotid artery which even without saying contributed to his death. I’ve been a mess since that interview, because he was one of the few friends I have left in this business. And the reason why that’s the case is because I developed trust issues that only recently with my wife and kids coming into my life have helped me through. What I can take solace in knowing that he lived as good of a quality of life as he could and that he treated everyone with respect, even if they didn’t deserve it. But I learned from him that trust in others is bred through respect
.

You know for a guy that claims to be smarter than everyone, Isaac, I have a hard time believing that based on the validity of a couple of things.


One, this talk about respect and trust. It was you that missed over a year of action with a broken back because the one guy you trusted, the one guy you showed respect for played you all along. And I find it absolutely ing hysterical that all we hear out of your mouth is how you are better than Kyzer. Who are you trying to fool, us or yourself. Or is it just because you’re mad that you didn’t do it first.


Two, this claim to be the only guy worthy of being in the main event. The guy that ensures that his matches are the ones that get the biggest payouts. His name attached to anything pisses gold and sh*ts diamonds, or something like that. If that’s the case, then why are we in the co main event of a free TV program? I know it’s not me and even though my payout is still very handsome, where’s all this extra money that should be on my paycheck by virtue of going up against the almighty Drakz?


I think you’ve taken too much needle damage in your recreational time because of the conviction you have in such lies Isaac. Such a belief that you can still draw the numbers that maybe you did once upon a time.


Three, you claiming the reason you came back was to teach the youth in our company about respect for the business. Sounds nice in theory, but you never have been the guy to do that not only because of your track record of leaving whenever the mood struck you, but now coming back and being a complete ing hypocrite because of your definition of respect. At least when I left this company many moons ago I had the decency and respect enough for the company to drop the title I had on my way out, because I knew that the decision I made about my contact status would prevent me from being able to defend it. Your definition of respect is no different than the man you beat at SuperBrawl. Here’s the truth, respect to you is based on the roster bowing down and clearing the path for you straight to the World Title, and yet you are allowed to bury and down everyone at your own leisure.


Case in point, what you did to the National Title. Let’s not fool anyone about the real reason you even had an interest in that title in the first place, which was preventing Schneider from gaining the honor of being the Grand Slam Champion. And while I have my issues with Schneider for being a sore loser, I have just as much of an issue with the way you continue to disrespect this company by sh*tting on that title. Nice touch though, masking the true snake in the grass you are with the “olive branch.” But maybe, just maybe I’m the only one who isn’t snowed by the façade because I see right through it. I’ve played that role, much better in fact, so I can smell sh*t when it presents itself.

And while I did manage to put over the excellent match that you and Obo had at SuperBrawl, Isaac, truth told the more impressive statement would’ve been doing it in his wheelhouse. But that would’ve been too risky for ya, wouldn’t it? If it were me, the way to have made the biggest statement would’ve been beating him in his environment. But it’s all about protecting the image, right? And you couldn’t risk losing to someone “inferior” because losing would’ve been devastating to the fragile house of cards that makes up your psyche. The same psyche that is just as fragile as your back.


Dream Catcher, this isn’t the dream match everyone wants to hype it as. This is going to be a fight. You’re gonna have to bring even more than you did at SuperBrawl, because your boy pulled one out of his ass. We won’t even talk about Reborn’s farce of a match because it might as well have been a handicap match because S&E fought like they barely had a pulse. So what does that mean for you? That means that you are going up against the best athlete that you’ve ever faced off with, and you just gave him sufficient motivation to take a piece of your ass home as a souvenir.


Your head or your arm, makes no differences to me which I take home with me.


At Dream Catcher, you too will be held accountable for your crimes against this profession because someone has to do it and no one until now has had the balls to do it because of this mystical visage that you use to the protect yourself with. And I’m gonna take great pride in snapping that twig you call an arm, or shattering that oversized, overinflated, overrated glass jaw of yours because it has been a long time coming.


I respect what you’ve done in your career, Isaac. You should be proud of that. But for me, I take pride in having the kind of career that I’ve had because I did it by sticking to what I believe in, whether right or wrong. I did it because legacies are defined by more than just the titles and accolades. It’s by the way you carry yourself and treat others. And that’s why no matter how this match goes, I’ll be more revered than you’ll ever be when I decide to hang up my boots permanently.


Does that make you jealous, Isaac “Drakz” Cray.


you!


You should be.

[jdfranchise]

Ok guys, I know that it's past the deadline. But I wanted to go ahead and get this piece up anyway  because I told Drakz I would show for the match, and I'm holding good to my word. Everyone knows what I've went through this past week and once again, I appreciate the support guys. Overall, I think that losing a good friend has been good for creative purposes because I do like this piece. Anyway, enjoy!

[Deleted]

First of all I'm fine with this being counted towards the match.

Secondly how are you dropping F-bombs without them being censored?

I'm glad you managed to pull that UWF scene around into having some kind of relevance because for the first half of it I was thinking "I don't know who any of these people are" and I can only imagine that's the case for anyone else reading this. You managed to link it to the funeral etc though so it held some clarity for those of us who don't know about your work in other feds.

I thought the funeral scene could have been extended somewhat as it was really just a short monologue, however the death angle of this RP was more a sum of numerous parts than one single scene.

I do have one query. The repetition of "are you jealous?" confused me. What exactly were you getting at?

Thanks for showing for this match mate, I know it must have been hard to find the time.

[Prophet of Ash]

it's the formatting in the middle of the world to break the censors deal. Old school proboards, there Drakzy boy.

[Dex]

Solid RP, I personally think it's one of your best since returning. I liked the tribute to your friend, but I don't think it blended well within the RP. First off, Josh wants to "leave wrestling better than it was when he debuted," the message felt so deluded and lost in this RP. Josh seemed almost vicious and I would have understood had you wrote a line or two about how "Mark's death left Josh with a sense of vengeance. He wanted to rid wrestling of all that's wrong, and Drakz was the first name to be eradicated. For Mark." I also don't really understand Nikki's purpose other than being a romance angle, but I guess we'll have to wait and see. The strongest part of this RP was easily the beginning, just a great monologue. Another thing that left me confused is how dis-ordered the RP was, I would've liked if you'd gotten the call before the funeral, or at least transitioned it better. Other than that solid RP, cannot wait for your match with Drakz. Should be interesting to read.