Post by Tatiana on Mar 20, 2022 10:58:25 GMT -5
The most dangerous combatant is one that has nothing left to lose…
Or so it’s said…
For me, this cliché is more of a sparse reality
I admit that there are few in this era who are still interested in traditional mat wrestling. They don’t always appreciate the fine art of working a limb and wearing your opponent down with grinding doggedness. But I’m no flier, I’m no powerhouse, and I’m certainly no hardcore purist. I’ve made a career in this business with this style, and I’m not going to change that just because there’s a group of fans that think my skill set is to blame.
In honesty, nobody was to blame except for myself.
So stop claiming it’s distraction
My age
My style
My size
My expectations
Or even The Heritage
I’m the person to blame for this. I’m the one responsible for my freefall and I’m the only one who can stop the downward spiral. I need to grapple with control of this mess before it crashes into the ground and ends with a squandered opportunity to come here and make a name for myself.
-exhale-
Ok, so last week sucked.
I expected better of myself. To get back on track by winning what was a big time fatal-4-way on a big event. But once again, as in almost every match I’ve had involving three or more people… I found nothing but defeat and disarray.
Worse yet… Is the fact that shithead Cass Adler won the match
Oops… Bad language.
But here we are once again. This time in the Main Event of Monday Night Clash against all but one of my previous opponents in a match that has been dubbed “Pasternaks Promise For A Better Spot In Havoc Match”
Cool…
I don’t really care about hype or circumstance at this point. In former times, I’d be over the moon to be featuring in a CLASH Main Event, and yet all I feel today is apathy and emptiness. It’s as if I’m waiting for the next blow to come. Like I’m anticipating a loss and more ridicule as I continue to disappoint myself and those still behind me. And though I know it sounds like I’m being a cry baby, or a defeatist, by expressing these views. I assure you that they are as true to my feelings as I can orate.
I’m frustrated and defeated. Emotionally drained, and nearly broken. But that doesn’t mean I’m going out there against Kidsgrove and Adler to eat a pin fall and put one of them over. It just means that after all these weeks, after all this failure. That I’m finally liberated.
I’m FREE of the pressure
I’m free of the anxiety
I’m free from the shackles of expectation
I’m a woman who has nothing left to lose.
You can’t kick me further down the ladder than I already am, and you can’t break the spirit of an already broken woman. I’m tired of towing the company line, I’m sick of playing nice with all the kids in the sandbox. And now it’s time to free myself of all these trivial pursuits; to let myself out of this cage.
It’s time to take the gloves off and get dirty…
GOOOOOOAAAAL!!!
Or…
Maybe I’ll do none of that shit, and just attack like a cornered animal determined to take its predator out along with it?
Who knows?
What I will do is apologize to Sam Kidsgrove ahead of this fight for anything untoward that I may do to him. I actually like, and respect Sam. He’s a class act, a real stand up guy. And you’d be hard pressed to find many people backstage who would say a bad thing about him… For good reason too. His lady, Zooey is a sweetheart and a brightly burning ball of sunshine so I’d hate to put her through the trauma of watching me annihilate his knees, or pull his shoulder out of socket
But that doesn’t mean I won’t hesitate to do it
I’m already broken and beaten, remember?
As far as Cassidy Adler goes… All I will say is this
F U C K Y O U
F U C K Y O U
You snot-nosed little shit. You got lucky at BattleBowl when you stole the victory away from the rest of us, and there is nobody in this place aside from Johnny Bacchus that deserves to get his ass kicked more than you. And as where I offered a possibility that I might hurt Sam in my discourse - I can tell you with complete honesty that if given the opportunity to snap your ACL like an old rubber band, I’ll eagerly take it
As well as the consequences of such afterwards
What are they gonna do?
Fire me?
Fine me?
Send me to the bottom of the ladder?
I’m already beaten
You’ve already written me off
And I’m already at the bottom of the ladder
Yes, I'm bitter. Absolutely 100% bitter, jaded, jilted, and pissed off. And perhaps you all wanted To knock the cheery Canadian girl on her ass in the first place? Well congrats, folks. Mission accomplished. You got me dead to rights, and despite finally reaching the levels of Main Event, I’ve already been written off for the ascension of Kidsgrove or Adler.
Pffft… Whatever, man.
Focus on your dim-witted champion DiVito. Hype Chris Page, who is way older than I am yet somehow has avoided the accompanying ageism that I receive. Keep putting that manic prick Balfore over like he’s somehow got anything going for him other the fact that he happens to be tall.
I D O N T C A R E A N Y M O R E
I’m going out there on Clash to fight, not wrestle. I’m going out there as a beaten, battered and wounded animal who has nothing left to lose and probably very little to gain. Off go the shackles of kindness and civility, and on comes the fires of redemption… Not of my cause, but rather that of vengeance.
Go ahead and make your stupid vermin lists
Talk shit behind my back
Assume I’m part of some conspiracy
Again, I don’t fucking care
And it seems I was a fool to care in the first place
Sam, Cass… I’ll see you both on Monday Night. And though you have some idea of what I’ve been capable of in the past, neither of you have a clue as to what I’m capable of now that I’ve lost every bit of dignity I had when I came here in December. You may write it off as idle talk, or maybe you’ll take me seriously?… It doesn’t change anything… Just like a win or a loss changes nothing for me.
Adieu au passé, bonjour au rien que je suis devenu
—- —- —-
The question was a loaded one, and left me in a moment of quiet reflection. What was the deal? What had gone so horribly wrong for me in Action Wrestling? How did I go from rising star to international despot? All these things were vexing me… Eating me inside out like some kind of virus, first infecting my morale before finally consuming my pride.
What’s the deal?
I sighed… The simple answer to most would probably be The Heritage. This whole mess began when they started to interject themselves into my matches. They cost me the Television Title and provided a few unintentional distractions that cost me dearly.
But maybe more than everything else…
They’ve caused a great many fans to turn on me.
But this whole mess wasn’t their fault, even if it would be easy to blame James or Harper for all of it, it wouldn’t be fair. They were my friends, hell they were probably my biggest fans and they’d walk through the gates of hell if I asked them to… No, this was a perception -/- reality thing… The fans, my peers, hell even some of my friends thought that I’d changed. That I wasn’t allowed to be frustrated or jaded after having my promo pulled from TV, or for being mocked by most of the influencers in the federation.
And THAT… More than anything else was the deal
“The deal is that I have a main event match against two fellows that I just wrestled a week ago”
My answer was pretty frank, and it got a bit of a snarky chuckle as well as a roll of the eyes out of my sister. Sarah knew how to read me better than anyone else, and bluffing her was next to impossible… Still, I felt like my opportunity to ‘make it’ in the big leagues had been lost
Or stolen..
“You’re so full of it, yanno?”
That Calgary accent showed itself in her far more than it did with me. I had traveled the country for 22 years, seen places, experienced culture in ways her job as a CPA would never allow for. In many ways, I was happy she never got into the business like I did. She got to have a regular life, put down roots and even have a family while I took bumps and tried to be as famous as possible.
The jury was still out on that one…
“I saw that promo. It was nasty; even a bit frightening. You’re mad, TJ. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes like you can mom”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I gazed out the bay window of my Vancouver home. One forgets how much she misses that skyline until she’s been gone for so long. In many ways, I needed this trip back home, even if it were only for a few days.
“I’m frustrated, not mad… Some of that promo was real, sure. But some of it was pure bluff. I intend to make Sam and Cass wonder what I might do out there”
“And if it backfires?”
“Then I’m already in last place… I can’t fall down off the floor”
This much I was being honest about. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be in the Main Event, or maybe even booked at all. I was so frustrated and distracted by all of this bullshit. My self-worth had become almost nil, and the fact that my challenge to Dandy DiVito wasn’t even aired didn’t help…
All of this shit was in my head
Like… Deep in my head.
So yeah, I said some things. I made some threats. But at least with Sam, I was bluffing… I didn’t want to hurt him because I like the guy
Adler on the other hand…
“What if they try to hurt you because they think you’re going to try to hurt them?”
“Then I’ll get a vacation”
I replied with a shrug, this danger was something that I had weighed with the pros and cons. Maybe they’ll try to kill me out there? Or maybe the fear will rattle them and give me an advantage?
“Sam isn’t the type to headhunt, and Cass was always going to try and put my career up on his mantle. So the threats will likely do nothing but make the fans understand that I’m not going to lay down and give up like some bitch”
“But you have though”
My gaze turned to Sarah…I could tell by the look on her face that my annoyance was present, and that the unholy glare of death that I was giving her had the desired effect. How dare she say something like that to me? How DARE she take their side!? HOW DA- -
“Otherwise you wouldn’t have thrown your dignity away for the sake of your battered ego”
“.........”
I sat in a moment of stunned silence, all of that anger I had almost unloaded on her was snuffed out with a few words… Fuck, I hate when she’s right about this shit… I let out a quiet sigh of resignation, my eyes turned back towards the city skyline as her words swirled around in my mind like a swarm of angry bees.
“I feel like I’m out of options… That I’m going to be remembered for the failure to make it in the states…” I admitted with a quiet tone… “That my legacy will be written with the final few years of my career, rather than the sum of the whole thing”
The age thing… Despite my best efforts to deny it… Was a factor in my mind.
And at 39, I knew that I had far fewer years ahead than I did behind.
“I took a risk leaving VPW to come to AW… And that risk is blowing up in my face”
“You’re defined by today, not tomorrow”... She added… “Today you’re in a slump, but tomorrow you may be on the way back up”
“If tomorrow comes…”
“It won’t with that attitude”
UGH… She was right
Again…
“Lean on what you know, trust yourself, and don’t be ashamed to depend on your friends down there. Those guys in the Heritage, Holden, Lissie… They all believe in you, and so doesn’t everyone here at home”
Yeah…
“And don’t make enemies with Bryan Blaze either. You guys have been professional rivals for years. I’m betting he will be eager to have a friend like you, just as much as you will him”
“That’s fair…” I mused… “Hey Sarah”
I turned my attention back to her
“Thanks… I needed that”
“I know”
She knows… She always does…