Post by Spencer Adams on Apr 16, 2022 22:22:02 GMT -5
Adilene.
Faith.
Lakia.
I recognize that not everybody has what I have. Among those of us who lose it, not many get the chance to rebuild. The weight of someone’s world collapsing in on itself usually guarantees a downward spiral. I’m a lot of things, blessed being the biggest one.
Spencer: I’m alright.
Adilene: Spence.
Spencer: CJ’s looking good out there lately.
Adilene: For real.
Spencer: What?
She reaches forward and clicks mute, bringing Clash and the room around us to silence.
Spencer: I’m fine. I promise.
Adilene: You can stop feeling guilty about all of this.
Spencer: What are you talking about?
Adilene: About AW.
Spencer: I-...
Adilene: I told you to come home alive and you did. Dune’s gone. I’m not upset about you going back.
Spencer: You’re not?
Adilene: Did I raise a fuss when you started training again post rehab?
Spencer: Well, no..
Adilene: I get it, I do, but you’ve done plenty and I mean..unfinished business and everything.
Spencer: Yeah..
With a quick unmute, she lifts Lakia from my arms and walks towards the other end of the room.
Adilene: No more living vicariously through your friends matches anymore. I can watch the kids. Go win Havoc.
You know, I never knew how impossible it would be to take time off from all of this until I was told I didn’t have a choice and that I had to go home. No working, no training, don’t even bother showing up to the arenas until you’re healthy. “It’s for your own good” they’d say or “You deserve a little time off.” Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed the opportunity to be there for my family, to be there when the life I helped create was brought into this world. I wouldn’t change any of it if given the choice, but that doesn’t mean that part of my mind didn’t maintain residency in this space.
I still remember every little thing about laying in the hospital bed that night, all of the calls and texts from coworkers, staff members, journalists I know on a first name basis. Almost every single one of them was just about the same, a thank you for everything I’d done in my career followed by a “If that was your last match, then congrats on one Hell of a career.” Kind sentiment or perhaps a bit of presumption on their part? Either way, it doesn’t matter. The perception was that I was finished and could ride on out that door with the happy ending, but there’s certain things that stick with you..
Were all of those people right? Absolutely, but I remember the critical words just as much as I do the positive ones. If I decided to just hang them up this year, I’d headline the HOF class and the first two words out of Torture’s mouth would be “Sorry, Bonnie.” Problem is, that I had critics trying to be the ones to write me out long before Dune and I fell off that stage. People who cannot and will not ever be bothered with even trying to match my tenure and commitment to this company and the people who watch it, who huff and puff that I’m still here and that I’ve been in the position I have to compete for what I’ve competed for. Boy, do I have some bad fucking news for them.
I’m back.
I’m back for Rumble, for the weekly matchups, and each and every title opportunity that comes my way, because I’ve earned all of it just by being Spencer Adams. Wade, Mikey, and Walter…nowhere to be seen, but Spencer Adams is the one former Havoc winner still standing. When my “contemporaries” left altogether, I stayed and built an empire and that gets under the skin of those people. People like those who are more than happy to claim the place before the going gets and makes them convince themselves that being a hack yarder is somehow more legitimate, that crowds of tens instead of thousands and trading in bright lights for porch lights is the real deal.
People like the self righteous sophomore who will tell you winning Battlebowl and Havoc in the same year is weak instead of history making. People who claim to be the authority on the ins and outs of this business after flipping from the mark for all to all knowing in their first month of beating up absolutely nobody of note and latching onto their cosign of Vegas magician like they’re doing the most, like they’re the ones elevating the stage that I made big in the first fucking place.
Everybody loves a winner til you’re a winner and a repeating one at that, ya know? “Peers” will give you pats on the back for a single belt, but hate to see a dynasty unfolding. A lot of folks in the back want to be Spencer Adams til it comes time to be Spencer Adams, to stick through tough matchups and mounting losses and head into the next one just as you did every other, determined and never deterred. It’s because of Spencer Adams that the summit is where it is and I’m damn proud of it.
For all the whining from those folks who expect to get what I’ve worked my ass off for over the span course of damn near decade in just a fraction of the time, it should be noted that I won’t be knocked off or pushed out of my home. I don’t roll over out of the kindness of my heart to let others “have a go at it”. At thirty-two, I plan on enjoying my prime in the only place company worth giving it to and if anyone really wants to object to the point of one foot out the door like so many others before them, allow me to help with the other. I’m sure there’s still plenty of room in the Japanese deathmatch alley feds or WHITE NYC!
4/16/22 (Vebbins, you already know.)
Mark it down on your calendars as World Reminder Day, the day that AW gets its soul back, something that’s been largely missing for over four months. No more abysmal main event scene filled with reality TV stars and sidequest enthusiasts, because the main event just got renewed in the form of THE AW original, someone who can and will rip that title away from Empire Business with authority. I know that the “washed” comments are surely coming..claims of Spencer Adams best days being behind him and his presence being a detriment to the state of current and future…and to those comments, I have just one question to ask.
“How I ain’t bring nothin’ to the table when I’m the table?”
CJ: I’ve gotta tell you, man..four months feels like a damn good recovery time..all things considered.
I find myself nearly panting, the impression of ropes ran are displayed across my back. The gym is empty other than the two of us, intentionally so. Sat side by side on the edge of mat, we opt for looking down and forward rather than at one another.
CJ: I can only imagine. You look ready though?
Spencer: Yeah, but it’s weird…I’m not sure how to describe it.
CJ: Oh, come on. Isn’t talking kinda like..your thing? You can’t tell me Spencer Adams can’t articulate right now.
Spencer: This is uncharted territory is all.
CJ: So is everything else you’ve had to do for the first time. Don’t say you’re nervous now.
Spencer: No, just butterflies, you know? I like to think that I don’t take the game for granted, but I don’t know. Kinda feels like the first time again, no matter how familiar the situation and the people are.
CJ: Butterflies..right. I get it. After all, stepping in the ring against CJ Phoenix after the last time we went at it is a tall task given I kinda whooped your ass.
Spencer: You got jokes.
CJ: Tell me something.
Spencer: Shoot.
CJ: How many people actually know that you’re here or better yet, why?
Spencer: Adilene, Faith, you, Torture…so four.
CJ: I’m flattered.
Spencer: You and I, we got that same type of soul. It’s what drew me to you when you made that leap to Clash, actually. The fact that I’m able to come back at all means something to me and I want it to be special. I want to try to give the fans something special too, to share that
CJ: ..Right.
Spencer: Why the pause?
CJ: Dandy is champ. You know what I have to do here, right?
Spencer: Yep.
CJ: You aren’t gonna make it easy, are you?
Spencer: Nope.
For more than four months, all I could really be in the grand scheme of Action Wrestling was a consumer of the product itself and that’s exactly what I was. I’d sit on the middle cushion hunched over with eyes glued to that screen and I watched. From Clash to pay per views, I spent so many hours as an observer that I’ve got the play by play ingrained into my memory down to the seconds, because I knew that I had to do SOMETHING and it would fester and eat away at me from the inside out if I didn’t. It’s because of this that I see everything and everyone.
I see you, Max Daemon.
That’s what separates you and I. While I eat, sleep, and breathe professional wrestling and more importantly AW, you manage to fully commit to anything but our ring. If you aren’t wrestling, you’re drinking the equivalent of your own weight and if you aren’t drinking your own body weight, it’s only because you’re out there “training hard” to fight a racist whiskey salesman. I suppose that’s what one does though when they see the writing on the wall and can tell that they’re working with a treehouse ceiling. You pay blood to an alternate career path, because you can’t read the fucking road map.
I’m glad you’re here though, because for me, you’re an example to be made and a lesson to be taught. It’s people like you whose lack of actual drive for what we do requires action. Once a contender of multiple divisions, now reduced to a formality. You are, by definition, a sacrifice. I shove a boot through your nasal cavity in one breath and point a forewarning finger at the rest of the field with the next. When I play pothole and hurl from the wagon once more, feel free to crack open up the case of Proper Twelve McGregor left outside your door at the Marriott and treat yourself. You deserve nothing less or more.
I see you, Vanguard.
Inside Vanguard, there are roughly one and a half wolves. Downfall, the leathered journeyman with all of the physical ability to get it done at the highest level as well as all of the personal struggles to let it all slip away in the blink of an eye and Dionysus, the still optimistic and high aiming number two burdened with a constant feeling of little brother syndrome that will never be overcome unless he somehow manages to get a win on par with his tag partner. Together, you’re formidable, but with powder keg morale and a match about personal interests on the horizon..this could get Gallagher messy.
Dion’s willingness to make it even harder on himself in a match like this is admirable, but it’s a step up and a dive to the bottom sort of thing. Iron men are iron men and people who seek self improvement by falling to glorified cosplayers on the indies with a “world title” on the line are exactly that, a man with a little ambition who pushes just enough buttons to stretch his Downfall’s patience paper thin. The liabilities you both pose for one another are damning and Havoc has come to tear the fabric in half.
I see you, Teo Blaze.
In a situation where hesitation is the biggest killer, I sense a worrying amount of it rolling in from your direction, but that’s nothing new. Believe me, I get it. Fighting uphill battles is taxing and most people hit the breaking point. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s almost as if once in a blue moon is all you can handle of the restrictions being removed. Did Teo go to CruiserClash and become its all time biggest star because he thought it was a better route or was it about the certainty that weight would be capped and you wouldn’t be subject to people like Dune, Walter, Odin Balfore, and every other literal giant who requires you leave a piece of yourself in the ring to do away with them. Havoc, you may be able to enjoy the reunion for a bit and fly under the radar, but I’m going to command that same radar.
I see you, Lissie Hope.
When you look back at your previous year in AW and struggle to hold steady with your confidence in light of those mounting losses, your own current becomes difficult. The early returns from The Swallowing reunion may help, but you’re still just as responsible for balancing the individual and it’s worth asking, who is helping who between the two of you? Who is whose person to lean on? You have Addy..and you have Emma. That’s fine and dandy, but what is it all building to?
Is it the story of Lissie Hope returning to the level she was once at as a competitor in this company or is it Lissie Hope primed and eager to cash out elsewhere? Bumps taken, a heart broken again and again, the woman fooled a thousand times. Are you set for a long Havoc run or better yet, are you even set for much longer here? Is AW something you still hold dear or is it your vehicle to being cast on the next season of The Life or even being handpicked by another network to transition the world of reality TV away from its dependence on Jill Park? If it really is an out you’re looking for, allow me to lend a hand.
I see you, Affluenza.
I don’t fear either of you, I just loathe your existence and I speak for every pair of eyeballs on the other side of the barricade when I say that. The reason your union went from garnering the eyes emoji to a cricket symphony is, because you’re incredibly transparent. There’s no tricks up your sleeve and I don’t feel there ever was. Every bit of the shtick was done better by bigger baddies and that’s how you kneecap yourselves. When the rumble starts, the field will be preparing for curveballs and you’ll come to serve up a tee-ball pitch. I expect the expected.
I see you, Ash Blake.
I see you, Johnny Bacchus..
I hesitate to give Lissie a pass, but for you Ash, no fucking chance. The only thing your recent dealings show is that when money and power are stripped away, the rich become common beggars and in your case, you deserve every second of it. You helped orchestrate an attempted teardown of this company and this business at large and as a result, your downfall was our victory lap. It’s the exact thing that should leave Johnny Bacchus rejoicing, but the turn taken is more curious than that.
The reason THEY haven’t taken to you quite the same as they did prior, Johnny, is because this is a slap in the fucking face. You may think you have their patience and that you have time to explain yourself, but you don’t. You’ve lost ground as one of their heroes, because they have to question why they would have ever considered you one in the first place. The SECOND you decided that standing beside Ash Blake was in any way justifiable, you went from punk rock revival to “Mainstream Sellout” and that’s pretty lame.
In short, you do not, in fact, have to hand it to them. Some images aren't for anyone to rehabilitate. The evil in question can’t even do that themselves which makes it more wasted effort and self burial more than anything. Johnny, this was not a better alternative to trying to make it as a gentrified Spencer Adams. Ash, I want you to cry me a river with your Martin Shkreli tears just so that when it’s time for the final entrant in the match, I can fucking drown you in it.
I see you, Corey Black.
When people think about the bar, they often think of you. When I think about my own legacy and my own drive to be the best to ever do it in this industry, I look at you as the only real challenge in my quest to retire as the best to ever lace up a pair of boots. That’s why I look forward to any chance I get to share a ring with you and why every time I do, I come with that much bigger of a chip on my shoulder. You are the final boss to most and your longevity makes you a mostly unbeatable one at that. Nobody can really BEAT Corey Black, except Corey Black…so you did just that.
Call it complacency or pressure to maintain that rep, but in exploring “other options” outside of the biggest wrestling promotion and one of the biggest contracts on the books, you fucked up. You fucked up, because with father time trying to knock on your door, you should be spending whatever time is left on your career where it matters most. You have the opportunity, no..the privilege of competing in front of tens of thousands of die-hards week in and week out and Instead, you’re doing cruises for hundreds and “super shows” like YOU have something to prove to the small timers.
Use your fucking head, bud. You going ANYWHERE else is a joke. Brady never jumped ship to go play in the XFL just like Lebron doesn’t run it in the G League. They’re above it and so are you and every minute you spend “out there” discredits and diminishes everything that you built and more important, what I’VE built. That’s where I have a problem. You want to play representative for the house I built to get the nod from people who can’t actually hack it here? Fuck out of here.
You know who I see?
I see you, Spencer Adams.
I see someone who is constantly discredited by the envious and comes back better each time they step foot in the ring. I see a three time winner of significant battle royals in AW. I see the one guy who didn’t take his ball and fuck off to the high school gyms when he got roughed up and Action Wrestling got hard. You ARE AW, because just like AW, no matter how badly the hack ass indie workers want to talk down on what you do..you are the one standing tall while they’ve had more places of employment than matches wrestled. Spencer Adams, you are a winner, because you worked your ASS off to get back to this stage and the second you decided to resign with AW, you had already won.
They snuck me in hours ago. Before most of the staff showed up and before the fans started lining up, they snuck me in through the back with a towel over my head. Not my idea, but Torture insisted that if we wanted this to be a surprise, we better do it right. No dirt sheet leaks. This would be one that would make sure those who paid for tickets feel like they got their money’s worth.
For hours, I’ve sat in complete darkness..waiting..nbody in my dressing room and a sole guard standing just outside. Fitting, isn’t it? It’s only fair that if they’re kept in the dark, I immerse myself in the same As far as the ten second countdown to my return is concerned, that started at Turmoil…in the back of an ambulance.
