Post by Noah Walsh on Nov 7, 2013 20:47:13 GMT -5
"It's amazing, isn't it, that even still, this is how we prepare for each wrestling match every week. We sit down, stare into this square camera lens in front of us, and pour our hearts out like it's some kind of twisted mix between The Hunger Games and MTV's Real World. Sure, in today's wrestling, different people are trying different kinds of modes to get their point across. I look around the league, and Ash Scion runs her mouth off on Twitter, people prerecord videos for YouTube, and everything else. But it's really just the same. Just a way to say 'I'm better than you'. It's been the same way since I started wrestling, and it hasn't changed since I last wrestled."
"Before I go any further, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Noah Walsh, and I'm a fucking loser. Pretty brutal opening, isn't it? Well, if you know my history, then you already know that it's the truth. If you don't know my history, indulge me for a minute by lending me your ear. I started wrestling in the early 1990s. I was promised the world during wrestling's golden age. Money, women, but most of fall, my name up in those lights. Maybe it was the lights that blinded me, staring deep into them to see my name on them. Maybe it was I came around at the wrong time. A submission expert, a boring by-product of this sport we all so love. Yet, when I was coming up, a submission game was considered a selling point... Something companies would fawn over. Then, this small, upstart company popped up in Pennsylvania, and wrestling was forever changed."
"Somewhere between then and now, I fell off the wagon. I searched how to become a relevant wrestling, but I only searched in the bottom of a scotch bottle. Since then, what have I been? I was a husk, a shell, a piece of my former self. Since then, I've gone through more wrestling companies than I can count, failed more wellness policies than I know, and tattooed my body with monuments to my sins. All to lead to this point."
"There's a term, spoken in latin, that means 'blank slate'. Tabula rasa. The idea is that when we are born, we are born into this world with a clean slate, upon which the information of our lifetime can be written. Everything from being able to crawl, walk, speak, drive a car, and function in society. The sad thing about this theory, is that it only applies to your birth. There is no tabula rasa for someone late in life, your life is what you've made of it, good or bad, and you have to deal with it. Suck it up. Take it on the chin. At least, that's what I thought before I put my name at the bottom of that PURE Wrestling contract."
"When that contract was set before me, that was my tabula rasa. My one shot at redeeming myself from whatever it is that I've done before in my life. The dotted line at the very bottom, an escape from my current reality into one where I can actually live up to what I was supposed to be. Johnny Rebel and Director Callahan gave me this opportunity. And starting this week, I'm going to fulfill my end of the bargain."
"Coming this Monday, in the first ever event of PURE Wrestling, I get to enter into a four-man match. I was asked, hey Noah, judging by all reports, you were the first contract signed in PURE Wrestling... Don't you think you should be in the main event, not scrapping your way through three other opponents in the first match on the card? Sure, I could be pissed. But why would I be? This is my first real chance to enter the ring. The fact that Director Callahan and Mister Rebel have enough faith in me to even allow me into the ring, much less as the first match ever, is a huge honor to me. It's something that I will never forget."
"As far as my opponents go, Stallion, Jordan, and The Emerald Assassin... Well, I hope they realize how much this means, as well. These guys have an entire career ahead of them. The youth of wrestling. The faces of the future. I hope they relish this chance to showcase to the world what they can do. I hope that nowhere along the way, the promise of bright lights blind them because of their arrogance."
"I hope that these guys understand that right now, they are tabula rasa. They are the clean slate. What they do from now on will define them both as wrestlers, and as men, from this point forward. And while I'll try my best to win, as long as I put on one hell of a show, show these fans that submission wrestling isn't dead, and show them the shadow of a promise of what once was... And as long as these other competitors, Stallion, Jordan, and Emerald, all understand that this is their shot..."
"...Then I'll consider this a success."
"Good luck, men. Prepare to build your history from here. Make sure that this isn't the match that defines your career."
"Make sure that you have no sins to build a monument to."
"Before I go any further, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Noah Walsh, and I'm a fucking loser. Pretty brutal opening, isn't it? Well, if you know my history, then you already know that it's the truth. If you don't know my history, indulge me for a minute by lending me your ear. I started wrestling in the early 1990s. I was promised the world during wrestling's golden age. Money, women, but most of fall, my name up in those lights. Maybe it was the lights that blinded me, staring deep into them to see my name on them. Maybe it was I came around at the wrong time. A submission expert, a boring by-product of this sport we all so love. Yet, when I was coming up, a submission game was considered a selling point... Something companies would fawn over. Then, this small, upstart company popped up in Pennsylvania, and wrestling was forever changed."
"Somewhere between then and now, I fell off the wagon. I searched how to become a relevant wrestling, but I only searched in the bottom of a scotch bottle. Since then, what have I been? I was a husk, a shell, a piece of my former self. Since then, I've gone through more wrestling companies than I can count, failed more wellness policies than I know, and tattooed my body with monuments to my sins. All to lead to this point."
"There's a term, spoken in latin, that means 'blank slate'. Tabula rasa. The idea is that when we are born, we are born into this world with a clean slate, upon which the information of our lifetime can be written. Everything from being able to crawl, walk, speak, drive a car, and function in society. The sad thing about this theory, is that it only applies to your birth. There is no tabula rasa for someone late in life, your life is what you've made of it, good or bad, and you have to deal with it. Suck it up. Take it on the chin. At least, that's what I thought before I put my name at the bottom of that PURE Wrestling contract."
"When that contract was set before me, that was my tabula rasa. My one shot at redeeming myself from whatever it is that I've done before in my life. The dotted line at the very bottom, an escape from my current reality into one where I can actually live up to what I was supposed to be. Johnny Rebel and Director Callahan gave me this opportunity. And starting this week, I'm going to fulfill my end of the bargain."
"Coming this Monday, in the first ever event of PURE Wrestling, I get to enter into a four-man match. I was asked, hey Noah, judging by all reports, you were the first contract signed in PURE Wrestling... Don't you think you should be in the main event, not scrapping your way through three other opponents in the first match on the card? Sure, I could be pissed. But why would I be? This is my first real chance to enter the ring. The fact that Director Callahan and Mister Rebel have enough faith in me to even allow me into the ring, much less as the first match ever, is a huge honor to me. It's something that I will never forget."
"As far as my opponents go, Stallion, Jordan, and The Emerald Assassin... Well, I hope they realize how much this means, as well. These guys have an entire career ahead of them. The youth of wrestling. The faces of the future. I hope they relish this chance to showcase to the world what they can do. I hope that nowhere along the way, the promise of bright lights blind them because of their arrogance."
"I hope that these guys understand that right now, they are tabula rasa. They are the clean slate. What they do from now on will define them both as wrestlers, and as men, from this point forward. And while I'll try my best to win, as long as I put on one hell of a show, show these fans that submission wrestling isn't dead, and show them the shadow of a promise of what once was... And as long as these other competitors, Stallion, Jordan, and Emerald, all understand that this is their shot..."
"...Then I'll consider this a success."
"Good luck, men. Prepare to build your history from here. Make sure that this isn't the match that defines your career."
"Make sure that you have no sins to build a monument to."
