Moving Forward
Apr 10, 2020 0:05:16 GMT -5
Quixote Della Torre, Ned the Intern, and 2 more like this
Post by Carter Shaw on Apr 10, 2020 0:05:16 GMT -5
After Monday Night Clash has come to an end, most of the crew and talent having left the building already, a room in the far part of the arena remains occupied. Carter Shaw sits on a medical table, legs hanging off. He’s still in his ring gear, the ‘Shaw’ fighting shorts bringing an electric green to the otherwise monochrome room.
Shaw’s eyes are trained downwards, locked on his hands as he picks at the tape around his left wrist. Next to him on the table is his cell phone, face up. The name across the screen reads ‘Lance Murdoch’, already live on speaker phone despite the momentary silence.
Lance: Tough loss, Shaw.
Shaw: Yeah…
Another moment of silence occurs, Shaw’s expression remaining almost without emotion. He lets out a sighing exhale as he hops off the table and paces slowly within verbal reach of the phone.
Lance: Look Shaw, I know you’re all about the “you never lose, you only learn” mindset but let’s talk about this one, shall we? And how we use this moving forward.
Carter leans forward, resting his hands on the edge of the table and hanging his head a bit.
Lance: Carnivore can now gloat that he practically beat you twice, Shaw. Not to toss salt in the wound, but he coulda left you outside to lay there for the 10 count, but instead... he picked your ass up, rolled you inside the ring just to be able to pin you. That’s fucking embarrassing.
Carter nods his head from the hanging position. He resumes his pace, his expression growing a bit more angry. A snarl interrupting the calm reflection.
Lance: I saw you ask yourself “Who am I?” in that mirror before the match. So many varieties of that question we could ask right now. That maybe we need to ask, brother. Who are you? Who do you want to be? Who do you need to be? Let me give you my honest two cents, Shaw. Coming from a place of love.
Shaw: Let’s hear it.
Lance: You are a great MMA fighter, man. Fantastic. I got to watch you grow from a badass motherfucker raking in the dough in underground fights to having rockstar potential inside that cage. But we aren’t under the clubs of Boston and you aren’t having fist and foot fights in cages anymore. We chose, you chose, to come to AW. To get back into Pro-wrestling. But I’m watching you in these matches, dude. And the ones like tonight’s? Against Carnivore? You’re leaning on your back foot, and I mean that both literal and metaphorical.
Carter stops his pace, slowly turning towards the phone with intrigue. He leans towards it with an elbow resting.
Lance: What makes you so great in MMA is that little game of mental chess you play. The way you prepare, right? Wanting to know your opponents every natural move, every unnatural move, and everything inbetween. The way you fight too, patient. Nothing is ever reaction with you, it’s always proactive. You learned from every shot you took in a fight. BUT THIS AIN’T MMA.
Murdoch’s sudden increase of volume crackles a bit through the speakerphone.
Lance: This is professional god damn wrestling. Not only that, this is AW. Carnivore took you to the fucking woodshed tonight and it was because you were trying to outsmart him throughout the match, waiting for your spot like you were waiting for a strong hand in poker. And look at what happens in THIS environment when you do that. You don’t just have a punch, kick or leg shoot to worry about here. There are so many more angles, so many more ways to do damage here. You’re going to have to change your mindset a bit here, Shaw, otherwise you’re gonna be stuck in this quicksand.
Shaw: Fuck…
Lance: This is real talk, Carter. I’m sorry I’m not there to be saying this to you in person. And hey, this is my opinion. I’m just like you, man. I’ve been organizing and runnin’ fights for as long as I can remember. I have no stake in this sport, I have no true place in this sport. But my outside perspective on this, my man...knowing the talent and skill you possess. Knowing the kind of impact you could make on this place. We’ve got to change a thing or two in the gameplan.
Carter listens intently, absorbing each word from his respected peer.
Lance: Take it from me, I’m a marketing genius.
Murdoch laughs at his own statement, a smirk almost coming across Shaw’s face.
Lance: I know things are tough right now for you, man. And now Battlefield is coming up, and you blew both chances you had to be a part of this show. Eliminated in the Battlebowl tourney...letting Carnivore go challenge for that TV title. I’ll tell you what you need to do, travel back to Boston. Be with your mother. Be there with her in a time of a true fight.
Growing uneasy immediately, Carter snaps out of his competitive state at the thought of his terminally ill mother.
Lance: You’ve fought for so long. FOR her. To support her and your family. I respect the hell out of everything you’ve done and the man you are, Carter.
Shaw: What do you think I should do to change the gameplan here…
Lance: Talk.
Shaw: What?
Lance: Talk.
Silence followed, ironically. Shaw takes his phone in his hand, holding it out to hear as he appears to slowly be making his way out of the room.
Lance: You’ve got 28 years of anger, frustration, angst, all built up inside of you with only one outlet. ‘The fight’. But there’s other ways to express yourself, Shaw. Talk. Talk shit. Don’t be afraid to hype yourself up. I know it’s everything you want to see die, right? Self indulgence and egos, but you’ve got a lot to fucking say, man. In AW? Start...saying it. I love you, brother. Go be with your mother, call me in a couple days.
Carter leaves the room, letting out a deep exhale.
Shaw: Hey Lance?
Lance: Yeah?
Shaw: Thanks.
Lance: What can I say? I know a star when I see one. Maybe it’s time for this star to shoot.
Shaw nods, hanging up on the call. He stands still briefly, thinking deeply, before heading off towards the parking lot. The scene fades out.