Post by jdfranchise on Feb 8, 2015 1:16:23 GMT -5
Rule number 2: Underestimate an opponent and you're f*cked.
*****
"A couple of months ago, I publicly stated the disappointment I had of facing Daniel Kirkbride at Grudge. Looking at it in hindsight, my selfishness cost me the initial meeting between us because going from a man of Phillip Schneider's name value to Daniel felt like a slap in the face to the impact I made on Battle at the Garden's bottom line."
I come to the lake sometimes so I can get away from the hustle. Even the most personable need an escape, and I find the tranquility of nature soothing. I appreciate nature's honesty, with changes happening so consistently you can set your clock to it. Though the landscape doesn't alter drastically at face value, each season represents a different personality. With barren trees and still waters the soul of the earth is transparent during winter, just waiting to teach a visitor of its majestic secrets. Only if one listens carefully will they find kindship with the elements and alignment in themselves, which I'll admit I was missing the first few months after my return.
"I believed after that encounter with the lunatic, a normal match with a largely unproven kid would be an easy payday because I was convinced he couldn't offer me anything I haven't already seen. I questioned the match making decisions and in reality, it left me ripe for the upset. It's easy now for me to look back with 20/20 vision and say that losing to him was just what the doctor ordered, as it lit a crucial fire under my ass."
I flip my hood over my head, choosing to preserve my health instead catching a sampling of Jack Frost's bite as the lakeside draft punches me and takes my breath away for a moment.
"But it does me no good to dwell on the past. God had a plan for myself and Daniel at Grudge, valuable lessons that needed taught. He and I share a common bond of faith, but I was the one who didn't follow God's directions. What made me think I could argue with my creator, when all the signs were there that suggested I should? Needless to say that defiance was met with a fitting punishment."
Squatting down, I sift through rocks that line the lake. You can't just skip any kind of rock on the water's surface, so choosing the correct type takes patience and keen vision. I acknowledge I don't have time remaining in my career for the passive route with what I still want to accomplish, but the good sense that embraces these moments of clarity is due to the maturity I've gained.
"When I look at Daniel Kirkbride, I see a lot of similarities to myself when I first broke into the business. Rough around the edges and he's a bit unassuming, but Daniel still possesses an undeniable presence that guys spend years trying to emulate. That's the major difference between he and many of the faceless, nameless wrestlers that find themselves washed out in no time flat. You can't duplicate authenticity and expect to gain long term success."
Scooping up a couple of rocks, I place them in my pocket. The primitive landscape reminds me of our world, where at a surface level there is a calm appearance masking complete chaos. You can find the most valuable treasures buried if you descend past that veil of fine soil and peaceful stream. Nature, like humans, is willing to share but requires the curious to earn that privilege.
I look at the jagged shale that's still in my hand, and it begins to crumble as I move it throughout. I toss it into the lake as it disintegrates upon impact.
"But even with the phenomenal record he's achieved, he still manages to fly below the radar. I understand his position completely though, as garnering attention is something that neither of us expected or really desired. The mere fact we're doing something out of sheer devotion was enough to bring us joy and a lot of people don't understand that. Money is secondary to his fervor in between the ropes, and it resonates with fans and higher ups alike. I've done countless observations over time, and I can say with full confidence that sole attribute makes him a truly unique talent."
I reach into my pocket and pull out another stone, much smoother than the previous one. A more polished performer knows how to make an impression count, including but not limited to timing of these actions. Amongst a sea of outlandish gimmicks, this type has staying power with an ability to come on strong at the right times and truly maximize their potential.
"Above all else, the kid knows how to win, sweetening the pot filled with dollar signs that will no doubt be in his future. His poise is one usually reserved for people that have my experience or more. And it's cool to see it all together. What I find most impressive about Daniel is he knows exactly what he stands for, which is rare for a man just out of his teenage years. His convictions to his faith have been greatly rewarded so far because he represents one of the few legitimately decent people left, a prime example of why I came back to wrestling. Daniel is the kind of guy I want to leave this business in better shape for, because I know when it's his turn he'll do the same."
I bend down and examine the water as the ripples cascade toward me. My visage is little more than
an outline in the dingy reservoir. Numerous others before me have probably felt the same confusion in their pursuit of self actualization and many more will follow.
"It's just like seeing my reflection. Because of that, Daniel Kirkbride earned my respect."
Bowing my head, I close my eyes.
"I just hope he doesn't change himself when fame and money come calling."
Josh Dean Presents
Rules of Engagement PT. 2
"Ok, so you want to understand what goes on in the wrestling business, well here's your chance."
"I did say that," Dr. Remke says as he hesitantly steps into the ring. "but are you sure there isn't another way?"
"Look doc, I'll make it crystal clear to you." I say, putting my arm around his shoulder. "I told you in your office that if we're going to do this, we're going to do it my way."
"I understand." He says sheepishly. "But I'm not much of an athlete."
"A lot of people aren't when they first start." I say, making a motion toward the weights and punching bag on the other side of the room. "They learn very quickly how to maximize their physical potential, but most forget about the mental."
"I'll admit, I don't really watch a lot of wrestling, so I'm not sure if I'm the best person." He says, examining the ring ropes. "Did Nikki happen to explain what kind of athletes I help."
"She did, but you're also forgetting that I'm paying you handsomely for this." I interject. "And I find it funny that you're wanting to back out now. Hell, you were more than ready to get started from the safety of your cozy couch. So the way I see it, you need to earn your paycheck."
"I just didn't expect this to be so literal. If Nikki told you, then you should've known that I mostly help football and basketball players." He says, shifting his gaze in a worried fashion. "You know, real sports."
I've heard this song and dance before, and it's become laughable to not just myself but anyone who has ever been associated with this business. His ignorance to the amount of real sacrifice needed is astonishing. The type of athletes that he helps are pompous, pampered pricks that pick and choose when they play. In a team setting such as theirs, they always have someone to use as a scapegoat in the event they aren't successful. It's a very rare occurrence that they're forced to look at themselves in the mirror and take some form of accountability for their actions. People like them that don't understand the feeling one gets when they're stuck on an island, what with the infinite number of lackeys that make up their entourage.
Wrestling can easily draw similar paralells to these games, especially if you have an introspective personality like me. Those long nights driving to the next city after a tough loss, you have plenty time for reflection in the endless sea of what ifs. But the major difference is most of the time, it's just you in control of your own success and devices. A very lucky minority have the benefit of a manager guiding their career choices, and even less find strength in teammates. This is what Dr. Remke disregards when bunching every wrestler together under the same umbrella. Depending on how these "sessions" go, there is potentially a psychological consultant spot available for him at Championship Connections. The athletes my firm represents could use his experience no matter how limited it is to their specific expertise, and I believe in first hand exposure being the best teacher here. Judging by his reservation to something outside his niche, however, he doesn't seem to agree with me. Because of that, I'm not holding my breath on this experiment being anything more than an utter failure.
"Oh ok, it makes perfect sense now!" I sarcastically exclaim. "WFWF is syndicated worldwide and gets competitors from all walks of life, but because I jump off really high things and do all kinds of flips I'm not doing a real sport."
"Now Josh, I didn't say that." He says, back peddling. "I meant sports with mainstream appeal, ones that have unions and insurance to protect them."
"There's no need to concern yourself with that. I always pay my premium." I say, leaning back in the corner with a frown. "But no I get it. I don't wear a helmet and shoulder pads so therefore wrestling isn't dangerous, right?"
"Josh, I'm just going off the public perception and the clientele that I'm used to working with."
"Sounds to me like you think anyone can do it." I smirk. "If that's the case, you should have no problem running the ropes."
"Probably, but I don't see the point."
"Run the ropes, and you'll see why."
He hangs his head in concession, and begins to jog toward the ropes. His face contorts in discomfort upon initial contact with the steel. I motion for Dr. Remke to pick up speed, and I can see a nasty purple bruise starting to form along his ribcage through the hole in his sleeveless shirt. Is it wrong of me to enjoy watching him in anguish? Probably, but if he can feel a microcosm of the pain that I've become numb to over my twelve year career then I consider that a breakthrough.
I step to the middle of the ring as Dr. Remke rebounds off the ropes. In his tiring state, he staggers into me. Given his uncoordinated movements and scrawny stature, he bounces off me. In what seems like slow motion he collapses, clutching his head and writhing as though he were involved in a head on collision by the way he's sprawled out. It reminds me of many rookie wrestler's reaction to the same exercise.
"Does this look like a bed to you!" I roar, startling the good doctor. "Get up!"
"I don't think I can." He whines, rolling around. "What's in this thing, bricks?"
"It's a standard wrestling ring." I respond, helping him to a seated position. "But it helps to keep your head from hitting the mat and land safely."
"I'll have to remember that." He says, gingerly sitting up. "I can't believe you do this willingly."
"It's my life, just like studying humans is yours."
****
"Everyone likes to say they are capable of making their own decisions, a free thinker in an increasingly compliant world."
"Do you consider yourself either of these?"
"To say I have influences is correct." I nod my head. "I have more than just myself to worry about now."
"Has that affected you in a match?"
"As you now know, wrestling or more specifically the art of fighting, is very instinctual." I begin. "But now I have to think every time I charge the ropes or climb a turnbuckle, because one misstep and I'm wheelchair bound. I couldn't live with myself if that robbed my family."
"I can see that." Dr. Remke says, grimacing in pain from earlier. "I hit the mat one time and I was done. You've got to be mad to endure it this long."
"Whether I'm playing with a full deck is debatable." I smirk. "But I have the luxury of realizing when someone is taking something for granted."
"How so?"
"Gut feeling."
"Do you think you're harvesting paranoia because of your past?" Dr. Remke inquires, lowering his gaze. "Possibly because of accidentally shooting Curtis?"
"I knew there would be a risk with that situation." I say, leaning back in my chair. "And it's convenient to say that I would've be more aware if it weren't the heat of the moment, but I can't take what happened back."
And I do think about it quite a bit, keeping my remorse for permanently altering his life close to the vest. I guess moving forward in my life has changed the outlook to what I now possess. Was I coerced? Probably, but I know I'm not alone in thinking with the wrong brain. What Raven offered was too attractive to pass up in my moments of self loathing, and most can say they would've made a better decision in my shoes. But I doubt they would've, because a person's vices are often times a liability and mine are ones I still carry with me. Because I let myself get personally involved in her low rent drama, they became exploited.
"You know doc, despite keeping my distance, I'm glad I did it."
"That's interesting." He retorts. "I suppose I was expecting a feeling of guilt."
"I feel sorry for what happened." I begin, reaching toward my mini fridge. "However if I didn't shoot him, I wouldn't have learned and improved."
"A silver lining."
"Pretty much." I say, pulling a couple of beers out. "Persuasion is a useful tool. Too bad so many people abuse its power."
I slide a beer across the desk. It's the least I can do considering the good sport he's been throughout this process. But as we both examine the beer, each with our own interpretation of its representation in this conversation, I can't fathom how a person would alcohol wield control over them to such a destructive degree that it costs them everything. I'm not exactly one to pass judgement though, and I would be wise not to forget the gutters I've crawled into once upon a time.
When I first caught wind of Daniel picking up a vagabond in New York, I keenly remember being at rock bottom with no help in sight. Because of how far in the recesses of my long term memory those days reside, I just took it at face value that Daniel was compelled to show his fellow man charity. Good for him. Then I started to see how disheveled he looked as the weeks passed with this stranger under his supervision. When Dave asked him to join SOS, I was skeptical initially. Better to let sleeping dogs lie. He was doing fine on his own, but my growing concern was that he wasn't equipped to handle what he took on all those months back. At Homecoming, when I saw him jump into a car with David Brennan after the show, I was thrown completely for a loop.
I raise the bottle to Dr. Remke as he continues to dwell over my gesture.
"You want it?"
That's probably how David Brennan's problems first started, somebody offering him a drink as good will. While I respect David's abilities in the ring, I know what kind of man he is after the bell rings and that should never be mistaken. He never struck me as a man that was grateful for anything, and his most recent run did nothing to contradict my beliefs. I'm thankful for WFWF's open door policy giving me a new lease on my career and David should've been as well, since it pretty much gave him a chance to fix his image and earn a living again. He was too damn talented to fall like he did, leaving a title shot on the table. Unfortunately, the sauce gives people an entitlement complex and when Brennan didn't get his way, he decided not to play ball anymore. I don't know exactly what happened between then and now but he looked much better at Homecoming than when I faced him in Sun Devil Stadium, so I have reason to believe Daniel has been good for him. I'm not sure the returns are equal though and it has me questioning if it was all done by design. When sober, David Brennan can easily be a good advisor on Daniel's career due to his foray into the upper echelon of our sport. If he does that, awesome, but I see him being more likely to drag Daniel down to his level which would be tragic.
"No thanks."
I smile at his rejection.
"Ok then, just thought I'd ask."
*****
Beware of false prophets, Daniel.
And I say this to you as someone who has watched with a vested interest what you've been able to achieve since you burst onto the scene. Our first go around was to see if you were the stronger of the two types of people that find themselves in this line of work. The ones that disappear as fast as they appear, or the ones that brand their names in the history books. You passed that night, proving to me you are indeed the real deal and you've carried that momentum to the precipice of something far greater than I believe even you understand. An open contract to fight whoever you want, whenever you choose to fight.
Here's a piece of friendly advice, choose wisely.
Because you see Daniel, only you can make the decision that lay before your feet. I know you're intelligent enough to realize that opportunities such as this don't come around very often, and the right choice can catapult you into a level of prestige most in this sport will never see.
The wrong choice, well just ask David Brennan about what happens there. Three things he's good at, and wrestling just happened to be one of them. The other two things are drinking and shooting himself in the foot. I have to give you credit though for nursing him back to some form of physical and social health, but don't expect a direct thank you for it. When it comes down to the brass tax, David is essentially living vicariously through you so he can take credit for your rise up the card. Or when you fall, hard, he can say that he would've succeeded in the same spot.
I think he once called it pulling strings, or something along those lines. Oh, that's right, you can't see them.
Well I can and it looks like he's priming you to do his bidding, all the things he never got to accomplish because he couldn't keep himself out of trouble long enough. Now tell me, how does the ball and chain around your neck feel?
Let me put this in perspective for you if I may. You were still in high school when Wayne McGurk had a similar conversation with an extremely talented kid at a crossroads in his young career. Like I'm doing for you right now, he warned me about spreading myself too thin, which is what I fear you're doing now in taking care of someone who refuses to take care of himself. You are too talented to let an albatross stifle the great reputation you've built, but you've got to be the one that makes that call. And you've got very little time to make it, because I'm coming to Seattle expecting nothing less than a dominant victory.
I'm in a much better place than I was four months ago, my friend. The man you and Brennan faced had no business being in that ring either night. So you need to develop amnesia and forget what you think you know about what I can do in between these ropes, because you only saw a fraction of it. You're looking past me and that's perfectly fine, but I advise you to reconsider. Because the second you do, I take that arm home as a souvenir. I like you, Daniel, and it's for your own good that you've been matched up with me once again. It'll keep you honest as you move forward, while this does nothing but keep me busy until Dave and I get our rightful tag title shot. Our paths are going in different directions right now, but I will continue to watch you and hope that you can discover how good you really are.
Beware of false prophets Daniel, the ones that make promises they have no intention of delivering.
[/b][/center]*****
"A couple of months ago, I publicly stated the disappointment I had of facing Daniel Kirkbride at Grudge. Looking at it in hindsight, my selfishness cost me the initial meeting between us because going from a man of Phillip Schneider's name value to Daniel felt like a slap in the face to the impact I made on Battle at the Garden's bottom line."
I come to the lake sometimes so I can get away from the hustle. Even the most personable need an escape, and I find the tranquility of nature soothing. I appreciate nature's honesty, with changes happening so consistently you can set your clock to it. Though the landscape doesn't alter drastically at face value, each season represents a different personality. With barren trees and still waters the soul of the earth is transparent during winter, just waiting to teach a visitor of its majestic secrets. Only if one listens carefully will they find kindship with the elements and alignment in themselves, which I'll admit I was missing the first few months after my return.
"I believed after that encounter with the lunatic, a normal match with a largely unproven kid would be an easy payday because I was convinced he couldn't offer me anything I haven't already seen. I questioned the match making decisions and in reality, it left me ripe for the upset. It's easy now for me to look back with 20/20 vision and say that losing to him was just what the doctor ordered, as it lit a crucial fire under my ass."
I flip my hood over my head, choosing to preserve my health instead catching a sampling of Jack Frost's bite as the lakeside draft punches me and takes my breath away for a moment.
"But it does me no good to dwell on the past. God had a plan for myself and Daniel at Grudge, valuable lessons that needed taught. He and I share a common bond of faith, but I was the one who didn't follow God's directions. What made me think I could argue with my creator, when all the signs were there that suggested I should? Needless to say that defiance was met with a fitting punishment."
Squatting down, I sift through rocks that line the lake. You can't just skip any kind of rock on the water's surface, so choosing the correct type takes patience and keen vision. I acknowledge I don't have time remaining in my career for the passive route with what I still want to accomplish, but the good sense that embraces these moments of clarity is due to the maturity I've gained.
"When I look at Daniel Kirkbride, I see a lot of similarities to myself when I first broke into the business. Rough around the edges and he's a bit unassuming, but Daniel still possesses an undeniable presence that guys spend years trying to emulate. That's the major difference between he and many of the faceless, nameless wrestlers that find themselves washed out in no time flat. You can't duplicate authenticity and expect to gain long term success."
Scooping up a couple of rocks, I place them in my pocket. The primitive landscape reminds me of our world, where at a surface level there is a calm appearance masking complete chaos. You can find the most valuable treasures buried if you descend past that veil of fine soil and peaceful stream. Nature, like humans, is willing to share but requires the curious to earn that privilege.
I look at the jagged shale that's still in my hand, and it begins to crumble as I move it throughout. I toss it into the lake as it disintegrates upon impact.
"But even with the phenomenal record he's achieved, he still manages to fly below the radar. I understand his position completely though, as garnering attention is something that neither of us expected or really desired. The mere fact we're doing something out of sheer devotion was enough to bring us joy and a lot of people don't understand that. Money is secondary to his fervor in between the ropes, and it resonates with fans and higher ups alike. I've done countless observations over time, and I can say with full confidence that sole attribute makes him a truly unique talent."
I reach into my pocket and pull out another stone, much smoother than the previous one. A more polished performer knows how to make an impression count, including but not limited to timing of these actions. Amongst a sea of outlandish gimmicks, this type has staying power with an ability to come on strong at the right times and truly maximize their potential.
"Above all else, the kid knows how to win, sweetening the pot filled with dollar signs that will no doubt be in his future. His poise is one usually reserved for people that have my experience or more. And it's cool to see it all together. What I find most impressive about Daniel is he knows exactly what he stands for, which is rare for a man just out of his teenage years. His convictions to his faith have been greatly rewarded so far because he represents one of the few legitimately decent people left, a prime example of why I came back to wrestling. Daniel is the kind of guy I want to leave this business in better shape for, because I know when it's his turn he'll do the same."
I bend down and examine the water as the ripples cascade toward me. My visage is little more than
an outline in the dingy reservoir. Numerous others before me have probably felt the same confusion in their pursuit of self actualization and many more will follow.
"It's just like seeing my reflection. Because of that, Daniel Kirkbride earned my respect."
Bowing my head, I close my eyes.
"I just hope he doesn't change himself when fame and money come calling."
Josh Dean Presents
Rules of Engagement PT. 2
"Ok, so you want to understand what goes on in the wrestling business, well here's your chance."
"I did say that," Dr. Remke says as he hesitantly steps into the ring. "but are you sure there isn't another way?"
"Look doc, I'll make it crystal clear to you." I say, putting my arm around his shoulder. "I told you in your office that if we're going to do this, we're going to do it my way."
"I understand." He says sheepishly. "But I'm not much of an athlete."
"A lot of people aren't when they first start." I say, making a motion toward the weights and punching bag on the other side of the room. "They learn very quickly how to maximize their physical potential, but most forget about the mental."
"I'll admit, I don't really watch a lot of wrestling, so I'm not sure if I'm the best person." He says, examining the ring ropes. "Did Nikki happen to explain what kind of athletes I help."
"She did, but you're also forgetting that I'm paying you handsomely for this." I interject. "And I find it funny that you're wanting to back out now. Hell, you were more than ready to get started from the safety of your cozy couch. So the way I see it, you need to earn your paycheck."
"I just didn't expect this to be so literal. If Nikki told you, then you should've known that I mostly help football and basketball players." He says, shifting his gaze in a worried fashion. "You know, real sports."
I've heard this song and dance before, and it's become laughable to not just myself but anyone who has ever been associated with this business. His ignorance to the amount of real sacrifice needed is astonishing. The type of athletes that he helps are pompous, pampered pricks that pick and choose when they play. In a team setting such as theirs, they always have someone to use as a scapegoat in the event they aren't successful. It's a very rare occurrence that they're forced to look at themselves in the mirror and take some form of accountability for their actions. People like them that don't understand the feeling one gets when they're stuck on an island, what with the infinite number of lackeys that make up their entourage.
Wrestling can easily draw similar paralells to these games, especially if you have an introspective personality like me. Those long nights driving to the next city after a tough loss, you have plenty time for reflection in the endless sea of what ifs. But the major difference is most of the time, it's just you in control of your own success and devices. A very lucky minority have the benefit of a manager guiding their career choices, and even less find strength in teammates. This is what Dr. Remke disregards when bunching every wrestler together under the same umbrella. Depending on how these "sessions" go, there is potentially a psychological consultant spot available for him at Championship Connections. The athletes my firm represents could use his experience no matter how limited it is to their specific expertise, and I believe in first hand exposure being the best teacher here. Judging by his reservation to something outside his niche, however, he doesn't seem to agree with me. Because of that, I'm not holding my breath on this experiment being anything more than an utter failure.
"Oh ok, it makes perfect sense now!" I sarcastically exclaim. "WFWF is syndicated worldwide and gets competitors from all walks of life, but because I jump off really high things and do all kinds of flips I'm not doing a real sport."
"Now Josh, I didn't say that." He says, back peddling. "I meant sports with mainstream appeal, ones that have unions and insurance to protect them."
"There's no need to concern yourself with that. I always pay my premium." I say, leaning back in the corner with a frown. "But no I get it. I don't wear a helmet and shoulder pads so therefore wrestling isn't dangerous, right?"
"Josh, I'm just going off the public perception and the clientele that I'm used to working with."
"Sounds to me like you think anyone can do it." I smirk. "If that's the case, you should have no problem running the ropes."
"Probably, but I don't see the point."
"Run the ropes, and you'll see why."
He hangs his head in concession, and begins to jog toward the ropes. His face contorts in discomfort upon initial contact with the steel. I motion for Dr. Remke to pick up speed, and I can see a nasty purple bruise starting to form along his ribcage through the hole in his sleeveless shirt. Is it wrong of me to enjoy watching him in anguish? Probably, but if he can feel a microcosm of the pain that I've become numb to over my twelve year career then I consider that a breakthrough.
I step to the middle of the ring as Dr. Remke rebounds off the ropes. In his tiring state, he staggers into me. Given his uncoordinated movements and scrawny stature, he bounces off me. In what seems like slow motion he collapses, clutching his head and writhing as though he were involved in a head on collision by the way he's sprawled out. It reminds me of many rookie wrestler's reaction to the same exercise.
"Does this look like a bed to you!" I roar, startling the good doctor. "Get up!"
"I don't think I can." He whines, rolling around. "What's in this thing, bricks?"
"It's a standard wrestling ring." I respond, helping him to a seated position. "But it helps to keep your head from hitting the mat and land safely."
"I'll have to remember that." He says, gingerly sitting up. "I can't believe you do this willingly."
"It's my life, just like studying humans is yours."
****
"Everyone likes to say they are capable of making their own decisions, a free thinker in an increasingly compliant world."
"Do you consider yourself either of these?"
"To say I have influences is correct." I nod my head. "I have more than just myself to worry about now."
"Has that affected you in a match?"
"As you now know, wrestling or more specifically the art of fighting, is very instinctual." I begin. "But now I have to think every time I charge the ropes or climb a turnbuckle, because one misstep and I'm wheelchair bound. I couldn't live with myself if that robbed my family."
"I can see that." Dr. Remke says, grimacing in pain from earlier. "I hit the mat one time and I was done. You've got to be mad to endure it this long."
"Whether I'm playing with a full deck is debatable." I smirk. "But I have the luxury of realizing when someone is taking something for granted."
"How so?"
"Gut feeling."
"Do you think you're harvesting paranoia because of your past?" Dr. Remke inquires, lowering his gaze. "Possibly because of accidentally shooting Curtis?"
"I knew there would be a risk with that situation." I say, leaning back in my chair. "And it's convenient to say that I would've be more aware if it weren't the heat of the moment, but I can't take what happened back."
And I do think about it quite a bit, keeping my remorse for permanently altering his life close to the vest. I guess moving forward in my life has changed the outlook to what I now possess. Was I coerced? Probably, but I know I'm not alone in thinking with the wrong brain. What Raven offered was too attractive to pass up in my moments of self loathing, and most can say they would've made a better decision in my shoes. But I doubt they would've, because a person's vices are often times a liability and mine are ones I still carry with me. Because I let myself get personally involved in her low rent drama, they became exploited.
"You know doc, despite keeping my distance, I'm glad I did it."
"That's interesting." He retorts. "I suppose I was expecting a feeling of guilt."
"I feel sorry for what happened." I begin, reaching toward my mini fridge. "However if I didn't shoot him, I wouldn't have learned and improved."
"A silver lining."
"Pretty much." I say, pulling a couple of beers out. "Persuasion is a useful tool. Too bad so many people abuse its power."
I slide a beer across the desk. It's the least I can do considering the good sport he's been throughout this process. But as we both examine the beer, each with our own interpretation of its representation in this conversation, I can't fathom how a person would alcohol wield control over them to such a destructive degree that it costs them everything. I'm not exactly one to pass judgement though, and I would be wise not to forget the gutters I've crawled into once upon a time.
When I first caught wind of Daniel picking up a vagabond in New York, I keenly remember being at rock bottom with no help in sight. Because of how far in the recesses of my long term memory those days reside, I just took it at face value that Daniel was compelled to show his fellow man charity. Good for him. Then I started to see how disheveled he looked as the weeks passed with this stranger under his supervision. When Dave asked him to join SOS, I was skeptical initially. Better to let sleeping dogs lie. He was doing fine on his own, but my growing concern was that he wasn't equipped to handle what he took on all those months back. At Homecoming, when I saw him jump into a car with David Brennan after the show, I was thrown completely for a loop.
I raise the bottle to Dr. Remke as he continues to dwell over my gesture.
"You want it?"
That's probably how David Brennan's problems first started, somebody offering him a drink as good will. While I respect David's abilities in the ring, I know what kind of man he is after the bell rings and that should never be mistaken. He never struck me as a man that was grateful for anything, and his most recent run did nothing to contradict my beliefs. I'm thankful for WFWF's open door policy giving me a new lease on my career and David should've been as well, since it pretty much gave him a chance to fix his image and earn a living again. He was too damn talented to fall like he did, leaving a title shot on the table. Unfortunately, the sauce gives people an entitlement complex and when Brennan didn't get his way, he decided not to play ball anymore. I don't know exactly what happened between then and now but he looked much better at Homecoming than when I faced him in Sun Devil Stadium, so I have reason to believe Daniel has been good for him. I'm not sure the returns are equal though and it has me questioning if it was all done by design. When sober, David Brennan can easily be a good advisor on Daniel's career due to his foray into the upper echelon of our sport. If he does that, awesome, but I see him being more likely to drag Daniel down to his level which would be tragic.
"No thanks."
I smile at his rejection.
"Ok then, just thought I'd ask."
*****
Beware of false prophets, Daniel.
And I say this to you as someone who has watched with a vested interest what you've been able to achieve since you burst onto the scene. Our first go around was to see if you were the stronger of the two types of people that find themselves in this line of work. The ones that disappear as fast as they appear, or the ones that brand their names in the history books. You passed that night, proving to me you are indeed the real deal and you've carried that momentum to the precipice of something far greater than I believe even you understand. An open contract to fight whoever you want, whenever you choose to fight.
Here's a piece of friendly advice, choose wisely.
Because you see Daniel, only you can make the decision that lay before your feet. I know you're intelligent enough to realize that opportunities such as this don't come around very often, and the right choice can catapult you into a level of prestige most in this sport will never see.
The wrong choice, well just ask David Brennan about what happens there. Three things he's good at, and wrestling just happened to be one of them. The other two things are drinking and shooting himself in the foot. I have to give you credit though for nursing him back to some form of physical and social health, but don't expect a direct thank you for it. When it comes down to the brass tax, David is essentially living vicariously through you so he can take credit for your rise up the card. Or when you fall, hard, he can say that he would've succeeded in the same spot.
I think he once called it pulling strings, or something along those lines. Oh, that's right, you can't see them.
Well I can and it looks like he's priming you to do his bidding, all the things he never got to accomplish because he couldn't keep himself out of trouble long enough. Now tell me, how does the ball and chain around your neck feel?
Let me put this in perspective for you if I may. You were still in high school when Wayne McGurk had a similar conversation with an extremely talented kid at a crossroads in his young career. Like I'm doing for you right now, he warned me about spreading myself too thin, which is what I fear you're doing now in taking care of someone who refuses to take care of himself. You are too talented to let an albatross stifle the great reputation you've built, but you've got to be the one that makes that call. And you've got very little time to make it, because I'm coming to Seattle expecting nothing less than a dominant victory.
I'm in a much better place than I was four months ago, my friend. The man you and Brennan faced had no business being in that ring either night. So you need to develop amnesia and forget what you think you know about what I can do in between these ropes, because you only saw a fraction of it. You're looking past me and that's perfectly fine, but I advise you to reconsider. Because the second you do, I take that arm home as a souvenir. I like you, Daniel, and it's for your own good that you've been matched up with me once again. It'll keep you honest as you move forward, while this does nothing but keep me busy until Dave and I get our rightful tag title shot. Our paths are going in different directions right now, but I will continue to watch you and hope that you can discover how good you really are.
Beware of false prophets Daniel, the ones that make promises they have no intention of delivering.