Post by Anthony Bailey on Dec 8, 2013 23:57:11 GMT -5
“No one is so brave that he is not disturbed by something unexpected.” – Julius Caesar
Taking some brief time off for the holidays and traveling to my hometown allowed me to not only take a much needed breather, it allowed me the opportunity to remind myself of what’s important. I told myself that it was okay to be thankful for everything three hundred and sixty five days of the year and not only one. In this business you are constantly on the go and if you aren’t careful, you can get caught up…caught up in the frivolous things that contain no long term value. I was so consumed with trying to make a “name” for myself here in PURE but I was falling short. And I’ll be honest…this place still doesn’t feel like home to me. I highly respect Callahan for being the wind beneath my wings so to speak when I was without employment. And Rebel? Well Rebel….let’s just say that I’ve learned to tolerate him…to a certain extent. But as great as those guys are for doing what they did for Jair Hopkins and I, I still feel like an alien to this foreign land.
The holidays weren’t just a time for me to kick back, relax my mind, and catch up with family and friends. It was the time I needed to reflect on where I truly fit in around here. Would I actually go on to reach my full potential or would I play second fiddle to AJP for the rest of my days here? She has been trying to be the “face” of PURE since its inception and she’s pretty much the kryptonite of The Promise, so I had to face the facts and just play my position right? Maybe I was intended to only be the sixth man and never be a starter. Or MAYBE the GMO’s in the smoked turkey on Thanksgiving are to blame for sending me on this emotional rollercoaster…
Who knows? All I know is that any encounter referring to the name “Martinez” sent chills down my spine. And speaking of my spine, my subconscious still replayed the events at last year’s One Night In Hell from time to time. The scars on my back from the more infamous Martinez were fully healed, thank God. Callahan’s Martinez was ruthless and Joe Martinez….Joe seemed just as dangerous. Man…I was so looking forward to remaining on cruise control after returning to Seattle from Tampa for a few days longer and slowly easing back into the mix. I’ll try my best to pretend that Callahan booking this match was a mere coincidence and that he and Mr. Tiddles weren’t somewhere mocking me behind closed doors. But…the joke would certainly be on me for thinking that a feline has the ability to ridicule a human being…
“I'm goin' to Seattle, Seattle here I come!,” I belted my own rendition of the late Wilbert Harrison’s 1959 tune off key at the top of my lungs.
{{Hopkins just shakes his head and laughs as we make our way through the Tampa International Airport and to our terminal, gaining some glares from various onlookers.}}
Hopkins joined me in Florida after Thanksgiving for a few days to hang out with my family. Since he was like family already, it was only appropriate to have him there with the rest of them.
“Ant, you are a fool bro,” said Hopkins revealing a fact that was already evident. “Singing is not your forte my dude.”
“They got a crazy way of loving there and I'm gonna get me some,” I continued in hopes of redeeming my “forte” in Hopkins’ eyes.
“In the last month or so, I don’t ever remember you being so amped about going back to Seattle. You must be anxious to get back into that ring huh?”
This was the proof that Hopkins knew me better than anyone else in this business. Better than Frank Cavalli, better than WDW, better than anybody. Seattle was tolerable because of the opportunities it provided but it still wasn’t home. Being home sick was starting to weigh on me and this whole part time transition was still so fresh to me. How would I feel in three months? Six months? A year?! I was trying to make the most of it, but it was difficult.
I stopped singing, or better yet my attempt at singing, immediately as I confessed, “I’m not amped at all bro. If it seems that way then I might look at pursuing a part time gig in Hollywood.”
What was it about Seattle that held me back from being all in? Hopkins missed home just as much as I did but he seemed to be adjusting far better than I was. In St. Augustine and Tampa, I knew every major highway, every shortcut, every restaurant worth your time and money, but Seattle? I didn’t know anything. I guess that’s just the part of my male ego that doesn’t like not being apprehensive of his surroundings. What’s a brother like me supposed to do?
“It’ll be alright bro, I got your back. We’ll do something exciting when we get back. Ya know, to get your mind off everything,” asserted my brother from another mother.
I perked up. “For real? What did you have in mind? Because it sounds fun already.”
“Nothing concrete yet but I’ve been playing around with a few ideas.”
“That’s cool. I just want to get there safely, go to the Key Arena and do my thing, and get back here to the sunshine as soon as possible.”
Being home sick was only a part of my issue with Seattle. This time of the year in Florida, I could still walk around outside in short sleeves and break a sweat. But this time of the year in the Northwest? The snow was brutal and a southern boy from the tropics like myself was not used to this at all.
“You’re not geeked about the snow?? Most people who don’t see it regularly love it,” Hopkins said surprisingly.
“I enjoy it from afar but when you have to shovel it and drive in it, it doesn’t seem so cool anymore.”
{{Hopkins laughed.}}
“You’ll get used to it, it just takes awhile.”
{{Reaching our gate, we find two empty seats nearby. A few people notice who we are and wave, so we smile and wave back. Being polite even when you are tired and frustrated can go a long way, especially you’re your fans.}}
“You ready for PURE TV tomorrow? Not to boast or anything, but it wasn’t the same without us last week,” I mentioned.
“Can’t argue with that because I agree,” Hopkins stated.
“What do you think about Martinez? You think I have a chance?”
{{Hopkins tilts his head back and slouches in his seat trying to get comfortable.}}
“Is that a trick question? Of course you have a chance! I mean you don’t want to underestimate him because a three hundred and seventeen pound man should not be underestimated. He can do some serious damage out there but I think you got this one in the bag,” said Hopkins.
“Yeah, I just have to remember to compete smarter not harder.”
“Stick to the gameplan and you’re home free.”
Martinez…that name to The Promise is like quoting Christopher Columbus to Cherokee Indians or Hernán Cortés around the Aztecs. And nothing against you specifically Joe, but Callahan, yes our own boss, the one who signs our paychecks is the very reason that I associate disgust with that last name of yours. But I assume that you might not be following me so let me catch you up to speed a little. When I refer to “Martinez” in the context of Director Callahan, I’m talking about his contemptible autographed Edgar Martinez baseball bat. The same bat that he did a number on me with around this time over one year ago. Let’s take a minor stroll down memory lane shall we?
Edgar Martinez is a Hall of Famer and former Major League Baseball third baseman who played for the Seattle Mariners for eighteen years.
{{He [Callahan] weaves out the way and smashes the bat into Bailey's gut sending him staggering back into the corner. Callahan goes to town on Bailey in a sickly flurry of strikes, smashing the bat across his chest and head with Bailey resultantly crumpling into a heap in the corner. A referee tries to stop him away but gets a shot to the dome from the bat for his troubles and then goes back to Bailey. Crash, crash, crash, again with the bat over and over as Bailey is turned into a fine pasty mush. It doesn't take long for him to go unconscious as Bailey is now a pulped mess, soaked in his own bloody coming out from every angle of his smashed in face.*}}
The same bat that AJP ferociously used on my good friend Sally Talfourd ironically at this year’s One Night In Hell, but I won’t go there…
Too late because I technically just did.
So please forgive me if I seem harsh because as the cliché remark of a boyfriend hoping to find relational freedom might say, “It’s not you, it’s me.” Because in reality, it’s not you Joe. You had no say in what your last name would be when you came out of the womb. You inherited it from your parents just like the rest of us. And because you aren’t to blame, you aren’t the enemy. Heck, even Callahan is no longer the enemy. We patched things up and our relationship couldn’t be better. But the viewpoint of “Doing whatever it takes to destroy Anthony Bailey” is the enemy. Callahan once had that view and apparently, you have adopted it as well for the time being. I understand that you desire to keep your undefeated streak intact but dignity is far better to retain than a win loss record.
I’m not deeply hankering to destroy your dignity or even tarnish your record, but I am trying to keep you from getting ahead of yourself. Being undefeated in a pool of talent like PURE Wrestling is something to be proud of. This company isn’t for the lighthearted and the roster reaffirms this. You had an impressive win over Alessandra Nayara, Jordan Caliban, and Xianlong on the week before last. You’ve earned your spot in the co-main event tomorrow but the real question is what will you do to keep that “spot” of yours? Everyone extols the climb to the top of the mountain but no one is in a rush to discuss the toil it takes to remain there, and speaking from experience, it’s troublesome to remain there. I applaud your three consecutive wins but I’ll hold the applause until you are able prove longevity.
In a culture like ours Joe, everything is so fast paced. Technology and the surrounding development is rapidly growing and evolving, and as much as the marketing industry tries to fill the minds of consumers with the deceit that we have to keep purchasing things to “keep up,” I don’t think that’s how it works. Consumerism is big in today’s age but I don’t necessarily think that’s what everyone wants. Because things are the way that they are, individuals yearn for stability…they yearn for consistency. Not only in their own lives, they yearn for it in the lives of others as well. Are a few odd weeks of victorious successes enough to project regularity? In my mind, it’s not. And because I don’t think it is, I also don’t think Joe Martinez is who he’s portraying himself to be.
I don’t believe you fabricated your history Joe, because you seem like an upright law abiding citizen of the working class, I just feel that time will reveal the true “you.” The you behind the scruffy beard and the five foot eleven inch frame. The “you” that even you won’t allow people get too close because you have a fear of being known. Not on a surface level but deeply known, so you hide behind the false security of short-lived achievement because that’s all there is to cling to. But as you have probably heard it said before, everything in the dark will eventually come to the light because the truth can’t ever be hidden. Tomorrow is a literal match, Joe. This isn’t just some winos and hobos that you are blindsiding with sucker punches here and there in the back alley…this is the real deal.
And the real deal is something that I have labored for. Week after week, I go out there in front of thousands of fans and put my neck on the line to show that I’m not playing games. When I say that my heart and soul lies within this sport, I prove it by giving it my all physically, emotionally, mentally. Hopkins has the same philosophy because he does the same thing that I do. I risked being at peace with my family for this. I risked a guaranteed lucrative career for this when there were no guarantees that APW would even pick up my contract. You resorted to brawling because you had to Joe. I respect any man doing what he has to do to survive, but if this is a begrudging obligation for you, then why even bother?
If you are doing this because you have to, then I have already won. There’s a major difference between commitment and passion and your track record shows that this might not be your passion Mr. Martinez. But hey, you have the proper build for it, and you happen to be good at it, AND it’s bringing some notoriety your way, so why not run it? Strike while the iron is blazing hot right? Get all you can because nothing in this profession is for certain, correct? While I wasn’t brawling in the streets of Tampa with a Darwinian worldview to see if I was in that elite class of fit survivors, I was in an old rusty gym for hours upon hours honing my craft. Not looking to join a company and be undefeated to appease my issues of approval from others, I was travailing to leave a legacy. A few weeks of prosperity is great, but it pales in comparison to a lifetime of adherence. A life that was lived selflessly to please others and to make the sport better. That’s the difference between you and I. Not our backgrounds or our upbringings, but where the affections of our hearts lie. You’re more concerned with being recognized and I’m more concerned with the enduring…
Martinez, this attitude that I possess is something I like calling “humble confidence.” My nearly two year career in this sport hasn’t been characterized by multiple lucky streaks and the cards I’ve been dealt didn’t happen to just fall in line, my career has been distinguished by hard work and dedication. Work that I was willing to put in against tough competitors like yourself, and I have lasted this long for one reason and one reason alone...I am Anthony Bailey…PURE’s only Promise…the only Promise that can't be broken. Until the next edition of PURE TV…
{{The scene slowly fades to black.}}
*Taken from APW’s One Night In Hell 2012
Taking some brief time off for the holidays and traveling to my hometown allowed me to not only take a much needed breather, it allowed me the opportunity to remind myself of what’s important. I told myself that it was okay to be thankful for everything three hundred and sixty five days of the year and not only one. In this business you are constantly on the go and if you aren’t careful, you can get caught up…caught up in the frivolous things that contain no long term value. I was so consumed with trying to make a “name” for myself here in PURE but I was falling short. And I’ll be honest…this place still doesn’t feel like home to me. I highly respect Callahan for being the wind beneath my wings so to speak when I was without employment. And Rebel? Well Rebel….let’s just say that I’ve learned to tolerate him…to a certain extent. But as great as those guys are for doing what they did for Jair Hopkins and I, I still feel like an alien to this foreign land.
The holidays weren’t just a time for me to kick back, relax my mind, and catch up with family and friends. It was the time I needed to reflect on where I truly fit in around here. Would I actually go on to reach my full potential or would I play second fiddle to AJP for the rest of my days here? She has been trying to be the “face” of PURE since its inception and she’s pretty much the kryptonite of The Promise, so I had to face the facts and just play my position right? Maybe I was intended to only be the sixth man and never be a starter. Or MAYBE the GMO’s in the smoked turkey on Thanksgiving are to blame for sending me on this emotional rollercoaster…
Who knows? All I know is that any encounter referring to the name “Martinez” sent chills down my spine. And speaking of my spine, my subconscious still replayed the events at last year’s One Night In Hell from time to time. The scars on my back from the more infamous Martinez were fully healed, thank God. Callahan’s Martinez was ruthless and Joe Martinez….Joe seemed just as dangerous. Man…I was so looking forward to remaining on cruise control after returning to Seattle from Tampa for a few days longer and slowly easing back into the mix. I’ll try my best to pretend that Callahan booking this match was a mere coincidence and that he and Mr. Tiddles weren’t somewhere mocking me behind closed doors. But…the joke would certainly be on me for thinking that a feline has the ability to ridicule a human being…
---------------
“I'm goin' to Seattle, Seattle here I come!,” I belted my own rendition of the late Wilbert Harrison’s 1959 tune off key at the top of my lungs.
{{Hopkins just shakes his head and laughs as we make our way through the Tampa International Airport and to our terminal, gaining some glares from various onlookers.}}
Hopkins joined me in Florida after Thanksgiving for a few days to hang out with my family. Since he was like family already, it was only appropriate to have him there with the rest of them.
“Ant, you are a fool bro,” said Hopkins revealing a fact that was already evident. “Singing is not your forte my dude.”
“They got a crazy way of loving there and I'm gonna get me some,” I continued in hopes of redeeming my “forte” in Hopkins’ eyes.
“In the last month or so, I don’t ever remember you being so amped about going back to Seattle. You must be anxious to get back into that ring huh?”
This was the proof that Hopkins knew me better than anyone else in this business. Better than Frank Cavalli, better than WDW, better than anybody. Seattle was tolerable because of the opportunities it provided but it still wasn’t home. Being home sick was starting to weigh on me and this whole part time transition was still so fresh to me. How would I feel in three months? Six months? A year?! I was trying to make the most of it, but it was difficult.
I stopped singing, or better yet my attempt at singing, immediately as I confessed, “I’m not amped at all bro. If it seems that way then I might look at pursuing a part time gig in Hollywood.”
What was it about Seattle that held me back from being all in? Hopkins missed home just as much as I did but he seemed to be adjusting far better than I was. In St. Augustine and Tampa, I knew every major highway, every shortcut, every restaurant worth your time and money, but Seattle? I didn’t know anything. I guess that’s just the part of my male ego that doesn’t like not being apprehensive of his surroundings. What’s a brother like me supposed to do?
“It’ll be alright bro, I got your back. We’ll do something exciting when we get back. Ya know, to get your mind off everything,” asserted my brother from another mother.
I perked up. “For real? What did you have in mind? Because it sounds fun already.”
“Nothing concrete yet but I’ve been playing around with a few ideas.”
“That’s cool. I just want to get there safely, go to the Key Arena and do my thing, and get back here to the sunshine as soon as possible.”
Being home sick was only a part of my issue with Seattle. This time of the year in Florida, I could still walk around outside in short sleeves and break a sweat. But this time of the year in the Northwest? The snow was brutal and a southern boy from the tropics like myself was not used to this at all.
“You’re not geeked about the snow?? Most people who don’t see it regularly love it,” Hopkins said surprisingly.
“I enjoy it from afar but when you have to shovel it and drive in it, it doesn’t seem so cool anymore.”
{{Hopkins laughed.}}
“You’ll get used to it, it just takes awhile.”
{{Reaching our gate, we find two empty seats nearby. A few people notice who we are and wave, so we smile and wave back. Being polite even when you are tired and frustrated can go a long way, especially you’re your fans.}}
“You ready for PURE TV tomorrow? Not to boast or anything, but it wasn’t the same without us last week,” I mentioned.
“Can’t argue with that because I agree,” Hopkins stated.
“What do you think about Martinez? You think I have a chance?”
{{Hopkins tilts his head back and slouches in his seat trying to get comfortable.}}
“Is that a trick question? Of course you have a chance! I mean you don’t want to underestimate him because a three hundred and seventeen pound man should not be underestimated. He can do some serious damage out there but I think you got this one in the bag,” said Hopkins.
“Yeah, I just have to remember to compete smarter not harder.”
“Stick to the gameplan and you’re home free.”
---------------
Martinez…that name to The Promise is like quoting Christopher Columbus to Cherokee Indians or Hernán Cortés around the Aztecs. And nothing against you specifically Joe, but Callahan, yes our own boss, the one who signs our paychecks is the very reason that I associate disgust with that last name of yours. But I assume that you might not be following me so let me catch you up to speed a little. When I refer to “Martinez” in the context of Director Callahan, I’m talking about his contemptible autographed Edgar Martinez baseball bat. The same bat that he did a number on me with around this time over one year ago. Let’s take a minor stroll down memory lane shall we?
Edgar Martinez is a Hall of Famer and former Major League Baseball third baseman who played for the Seattle Mariners for eighteen years.
{{He [Callahan] weaves out the way and smashes the bat into Bailey's gut sending him staggering back into the corner. Callahan goes to town on Bailey in a sickly flurry of strikes, smashing the bat across his chest and head with Bailey resultantly crumpling into a heap in the corner. A referee tries to stop him away but gets a shot to the dome from the bat for his troubles and then goes back to Bailey. Crash, crash, crash, again with the bat over and over as Bailey is turned into a fine pasty mush. It doesn't take long for him to go unconscious as Bailey is now a pulped mess, soaked in his own bloody coming out from every angle of his smashed in face.*}}
The same bat that AJP ferociously used on my good friend Sally Talfourd ironically at this year’s One Night In Hell, but I won’t go there…
Too late because I technically just did.
So please forgive me if I seem harsh because as the cliché remark of a boyfriend hoping to find relational freedom might say, “It’s not you, it’s me.” Because in reality, it’s not you Joe. You had no say in what your last name would be when you came out of the womb. You inherited it from your parents just like the rest of us. And because you aren’t to blame, you aren’t the enemy. Heck, even Callahan is no longer the enemy. We patched things up and our relationship couldn’t be better. But the viewpoint of “Doing whatever it takes to destroy Anthony Bailey” is the enemy. Callahan once had that view and apparently, you have adopted it as well for the time being. I understand that you desire to keep your undefeated streak intact but dignity is far better to retain than a win loss record.
I’m not deeply hankering to destroy your dignity or even tarnish your record, but I am trying to keep you from getting ahead of yourself. Being undefeated in a pool of talent like PURE Wrestling is something to be proud of. This company isn’t for the lighthearted and the roster reaffirms this. You had an impressive win over Alessandra Nayara, Jordan Caliban, and Xianlong on the week before last. You’ve earned your spot in the co-main event tomorrow but the real question is what will you do to keep that “spot” of yours? Everyone extols the climb to the top of the mountain but no one is in a rush to discuss the toil it takes to remain there, and speaking from experience, it’s troublesome to remain there. I applaud your three consecutive wins but I’ll hold the applause until you are able prove longevity.
In a culture like ours Joe, everything is so fast paced. Technology and the surrounding development is rapidly growing and evolving, and as much as the marketing industry tries to fill the minds of consumers with the deceit that we have to keep purchasing things to “keep up,” I don’t think that’s how it works. Consumerism is big in today’s age but I don’t necessarily think that’s what everyone wants. Because things are the way that they are, individuals yearn for stability…they yearn for consistency. Not only in their own lives, they yearn for it in the lives of others as well. Are a few odd weeks of victorious successes enough to project regularity? In my mind, it’s not. And because I don’t think it is, I also don’t think Joe Martinez is who he’s portraying himself to be.
I don’t believe you fabricated your history Joe, because you seem like an upright law abiding citizen of the working class, I just feel that time will reveal the true “you.” The you behind the scruffy beard and the five foot eleven inch frame. The “you” that even you won’t allow people get too close because you have a fear of being known. Not on a surface level but deeply known, so you hide behind the false security of short-lived achievement because that’s all there is to cling to. But as you have probably heard it said before, everything in the dark will eventually come to the light because the truth can’t ever be hidden. Tomorrow is a literal match, Joe. This isn’t just some winos and hobos that you are blindsiding with sucker punches here and there in the back alley…this is the real deal.
And the real deal is something that I have labored for. Week after week, I go out there in front of thousands of fans and put my neck on the line to show that I’m not playing games. When I say that my heart and soul lies within this sport, I prove it by giving it my all physically, emotionally, mentally. Hopkins has the same philosophy because he does the same thing that I do. I risked being at peace with my family for this. I risked a guaranteed lucrative career for this when there were no guarantees that APW would even pick up my contract. You resorted to brawling because you had to Joe. I respect any man doing what he has to do to survive, but if this is a begrudging obligation for you, then why even bother?
If you are doing this because you have to, then I have already won. There’s a major difference between commitment and passion and your track record shows that this might not be your passion Mr. Martinez. But hey, you have the proper build for it, and you happen to be good at it, AND it’s bringing some notoriety your way, so why not run it? Strike while the iron is blazing hot right? Get all you can because nothing in this profession is for certain, correct? While I wasn’t brawling in the streets of Tampa with a Darwinian worldview to see if I was in that elite class of fit survivors, I was in an old rusty gym for hours upon hours honing my craft. Not looking to join a company and be undefeated to appease my issues of approval from others, I was travailing to leave a legacy. A few weeks of prosperity is great, but it pales in comparison to a lifetime of adherence. A life that was lived selflessly to please others and to make the sport better. That’s the difference between you and I. Not our backgrounds or our upbringings, but where the affections of our hearts lie. You’re more concerned with being recognized and I’m more concerned with the enduring…
Martinez, this attitude that I possess is something I like calling “humble confidence.” My nearly two year career in this sport hasn’t been characterized by multiple lucky streaks and the cards I’ve been dealt didn’t happen to just fall in line, my career has been distinguished by hard work and dedication. Work that I was willing to put in against tough competitors like yourself, and I have lasted this long for one reason and one reason alone...I am Anthony Bailey…PURE’s only Promise…the only Promise that can't be broken. Until the next edition of PURE TV…
{{The scene slowly fades to black.}}
*Taken from APW’s One Night In Hell 2012
