Post by CBT on Nov 20, 2006 2:44:05 GMT -5
Crying Over Spilt Milk
“It was a business decision. We just felt this was the right time for me to come in. There's no love lost, there's no harm. I'm coming in with an open mind and ready to play, no grudges at all.- John Abraham”
How sad it is. Yukio Blaze. A man whose been around the block, just as long as yours truly. Unable to achieve one gratifying moment in the wrestling world. Trying his hardest to break even in the WFWF. By match, feud, and title opportunity. Try as he might. Opportunity doesn't change a man of great inferiority.
Obviously no stranger to failure, he holds a grudge for the most petty of reasons. A title opportunity he was granted, that I edged my way into. A classic triple threat, neither of us could claim a win in.
He blames me. He claims that I'm the reason he hasn't achieved a damn thing in the WFWF. Irrational as it might be, he may have a point.
I did hit the Pon De Replay, seemingly eliminating him out of the match. I knew damn well what I was doing, and had I not let Josh get the best of me, I wouldn't have thought twice about pinning either of them, and claiming what should have been mine.
I have achieved greater things then that National title, and will continue to do so. While Blaze will continue to do what he's always done to god damn perfection. Crying over spilt milk.
“The road to truth is long, and lined the entire way with annoying bastards.- Alexander Jablokov"
Another day in Upstate, New York. Syracuse has had its share of strange weather, but its all a part of the seasons changing. From the sun rising around 4 in the morning. To the sun setting just before 5 in the afternoon.
Weather isn't the only thing changing, appearantly, but so is the WFWF Roster, and Its Owners. Its a new era, and rise or fall. This era is sure to bring the new year in early.
As the Kyzer-Drakz regime proves to be all but another chapter, in WFWF's existance. Two new men are named, to take over the little promotion that could.
One a Bible thumping, symbol of modern day religion. The other a over confident, deadily, master of all trades.
The WFWF fans will be on hand, to see CBT, in his last non-TV appearance. As he takes on a man, always tapping on the glass ceiling, Yukio Blaze.
The straps will be on hand, and the intense atmosphere heated. No words can describe, the beating that both men will deliver onto one another.
As we focuse on what Tha CBT had to say about Yukio Blaze, earlier today, from his personal office.
CBT: How long has it been? How long has it been, since Josh was in the WFWF? Since he was National Champion? Since he had a National title to defend.. since that belt was a active vice in the WFWF?
I swear, I give fair chances to anyone who comes to my office, like a man. I'm not working with boys, this business takes all you have, and gives nothing back. I can't fight someone over sh*t. Sh*t they knew they were setting themself up to fall, in going towards.
But I'll be Blaze's mentor. I'll show Blaze the ropes.. or more so the straps. In a gritty house show match, I'm to good to be a part of.
CBT sitting at his desk, takes both hands under the desk, out of sight. Squirming around, the view is blocked, and his hands out of sight. He reaches up with his right hand, clinching a belt. He lays the belt across the desk.
CBT: You know Blaze, its sad its come to this. I couldn't be bothered with making this match on my Felo De Se. So I made a agreement with the man in charge of house shows, Obo.
You talk sh*t, always finding the right time and place, to make your reputation off of mine. Saying we've never faced 1 on 1, like I owe you the time of day. Linking it back to a triple threat match, for a title of little importance. A match we both lost, to a man, who serves this promotion no purpose. In this time and age.
You hate me, I know it. I embody success, but not being handed it. I've been mid-carder status, with the best promos and matches, WFWF has ever seen.
Sure right here and now, I have done better, but in the ring. Your just not a legit threat. But this, this is.
Taking the belt back off the desk, he puts it back on his pants. Seemingly unsure of what to do with it. He smiles at the simplicity, almost as if he's letting his actions speak with each word.
CBT: You know. I tried to find the connection. The reason. The story behind, why we're in a strap match, and not just a ordinary 1 on 1. But it all falls back on 1 thing. Belts. Not neccessarily, the lavished accessories. But the achievement that is championship gold. Something you've had countless shots at, but always come up short. Something I usually grasp easily, when I have the passion for getting it.
Sure the National title had value, but the strap alone. It wasn't even worth holding, if only to hold my pants up.
Just beating Josh. Beating you. That was the notch in the belt, I was fighting for.
While you grab onto the belt, like it is your life. But much like life, its filled with disappointment. Those goals are just dreams, that you'll never wake up, and realize for what there really worth.
I look at you blaze, your story pure, but so forgone. You bring the past forward, like some intellectually- disabled person replying to a topic, covered and finished, months ago.
Its disrespectful to me, and unbecoming of a champion. But crying over spilt milk, doesn't make you a champion either, does it?
“It was a business decision. We just felt this was the right time for me to come in. There's no love lost, there's no harm. I'm coming in with an open mind and ready to play, no grudges at all.- John Abraham”
How sad it is. Yukio Blaze. A man whose been around the block, just as long as yours truly. Unable to achieve one gratifying moment in the wrestling world. Trying his hardest to break even in the WFWF. By match, feud, and title opportunity. Try as he might. Opportunity doesn't change a man of great inferiority.
Obviously no stranger to failure, he holds a grudge for the most petty of reasons. A title opportunity he was granted, that I edged my way into. A classic triple threat, neither of us could claim a win in.
He blames me. He claims that I'm the reason he hasn't achieved a damn thing in the WFWF. Irrational as it might be, he may have a point.
I did hit the Pon De Replay, seemingly eliminating him out of the match. I knew damn well what I was doing, and had I not let Josh get the best of me, I wouldn't have thought twice about pinning either of them, and claiming what should have been mine.
I have achieved greater things then that National title, and will continue to do so. While Blaze will continue to do what he's always done to god damn perfection. Crying over spilt milk.
“The road to truth is long, and lined the entire way with annoying bastards.- Alexander Jablokov"
Another day in Upstate, New York. Syracuse has had its share of strange weather, but its all a part of the seasons changing. From the sun rising around 4 in the morning. To the sun setting just before 5 in the afternoon.
Weather isn't the only thing changing, appearantly, but so is the WFWF Roster, and Its Owners. Its a new era, and rise or fall. This era is sure to bring the new year in early.
As the Kyzer-Drakz regime proves to be all but another chapter, in WFWF's existance. Two new men are named, to take over the little promotion that could.
One a Bible thumping, symbol of modern day religion. The other a over confident, deadily, master of all trades.
The WFWF fans will be on hand, to see CBT, in his last non-TV appearance. As he takes on a man, always tapping on the glass ceiling, Yukio Blaze.
The straps will be on hand, and the intense atmosphere heated. No words can describe, the beating that both men will deliver onto one another.
As we focuse on what Tha CBT had to say about Yukio Blaze, earlier today, from his personal office.
CBT: How long has it been? How long has it been, since Josh was in the WFWF? Since he was National Champion? Since he had a National title to defend.. since that belt was a active vice in the WFWF?
I swear, I give fair chances to anyone who comes to my office, like a man. I'm not working with boys, this business takes all you have, and gives nothing back. I can't fight someone over sh*t. Sh*t they knew they were setting themself up to fall, in going towards.
But I'll be Blaze's mentor. I'll show Blaze the ropes.. or more so the straps. In a gritty house show match, I'm to good to be a part of.
CBT sitting at his desk, takes both hands under the desk, out of sight. Squirming around, the view is blocked, and his hands out of sight. He reaches up with his right hand, clinching a belt. He lays the belt across the desk.
CBT: You know Blaze, its sad its come to this. I couldn't be bothered with making this match on my Felo De Se. So I made a agreement with the man in charge of house shows, Obo.
You talk sh*t, always finding the right time and place, to make your reputation off of mine. Saying we've never faced 1 on 1, like I owe you the time of day. Linking it back to a triple threat match, for a title of little importance. A match we both lost, to a man, who serves this promotion no purpose. In this time and age.
You hate me, I know it. I embody success, but not being handed it. I've been mid-carder status, with the best promos and matches, WFWF has ever seen.
Sure right here and now, I have done better, but in the ring. Your just not a legit threat. But this, this is.
Taking the belt back off the desk, he puts it back on his pants. Seemingly unsure of what to do with it. He smiles at the simplicity, almost as if he's letting his actions speak with each word.
CBT: You know. I tried to find the connection. The reason. The story behind, why we're in a strap match, and not just a ordinary 1 on 1. But it all falls back on 1 thing. Belts. Not neccessarily, the lavished accessories. But the achievement that is championship gold. Something you've had countless shots at, but always come up short. Something I usually grasp easily, when I have the passion for getting it.
Sure the National title had value, but the strap alone. It wasn't even worth holding, if only to hold my pants up.
Just beating Josh. Beating you. That was the notch in the belt, I was fighting for.
While you grab onto the belt, like it is your life. But much like life, its filled with disappointment. Those goals are just dreams, that you'll never wake up, and realize for what there really worth.
I look at you blaze, your story pure, but so forgone. You bring the past forward, like some intellectually- disabled person replying to a topic, covered and finished, months ago.
Its disrespectful to me, and unbecoming of a champion. But crying over spilt milk, doesn't make you a champion either, does it?
