Post by Spencer Adams on Jan 25, 2021 22:48:12 GMT -5
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be in this match. Hell, I shouldn’t be breathing. When I first found myself in your crosshairs, that was supposed to be it. You were supposed to run through me and end me in one singular motion, not just Spencer Adams taking a nasty spill through a barricade, but snapping his neck in a crooked landing for that little bit of extra oomph in the champ’s statement. It would’ve been harmless to your career prospects, probably even beneficial. In a company where one man can blatantly murder another and brag about doing so for months on end, is there really any downside to being the one that direct the sequel?
You probably should be ragdolling Jaice Wilds around instead, but ya know, it’s funny how things work out sometimes. While you spent all that time and energy focused on taking me out, you ignored a crucial detail that was right in front of your face and because of that, you’re the one who is royally fucked in this situation. If you read any deeper into who I am than the sparknotes, if you took the time to understand what makes a Chicagoan, maybe you would’ve approached things a bit differently or went after another target altogether.
I get it though. You went after Spencer Adams, because Spencer Adams was somebody worth going after...and you probably knew that sooner or later, I would’ve come for you regardless. Next time, try a little harder and dive a little deeper. If you did, you’d understand what makes the people where I grew up special. Chicago doesn’t quit. We get hit with bullshit obstacles our entire lives. Roadblock after roadblock rear their ugly heads and we move forward. From the time we’re born up until our hearts beat for the final time, we are conditioned to grind. We bust our asses until we make it in whatever we find ourselves going after.
I’m talking about real Chicago, not the David Sanchez version that only serves to prove that you actually can be both a minority and really fucking racist against minorities at the same time. We are who we are, even if the successor to Lori Lightfoot turns out to be a Columbian Donald Trump, we fight the good fucking fight. People like yourself and the company that you keep are about to learn real fucking quick what real looks like. For now, you stand there..cocky and blissfully ignorant, but you’re only days away from a Curb Your Enthusiasm-type moment of clarity.
You are used to fighting knee benders, people who can easily be pushed to the point of saying uncle. I don’t have it in my vocabulary, Mintz. You find yourself at a predictable advantage against those who are burnt out, lesser, used to a life of underachieving..or all of the above. Knocking around the Corey Bulls of the world, that’s your bread and butter shit. Going after me and seemingly lumping me in the category was stupid and fatal. Did you just not pay close enough attention to the list of names I stormed through this past year?
I don’t go through with a comb and pick battles I think I’ll win, I do it all. Give me prospects, vets, those on the way up, the best in the business. That’s what being the franchise player is all about. I want smoke with every single tier of the locker room hierarchy. Keeps me fresh, keeps me sharp. When all you do is strategize to target people you see as vulnerable, you end up being the one who is vulnerable. You don’t get better, you just stay the same. Unless, of course...you choose to start a war WITH that franchise player.
You may think you’re brand building and making a case for yourself as a unanimous breakout, but you’ve gone after someone who can define you as they see fit. Before me, you could’ve gotten on just fine as a value star fulfilling a particular niche within this business. Now, your trajectory is in my hands. I can make you or I can break you and given that you’ve spent the past few weeks trying to end my career, I’m going to do the same in return. I’m sure you weighed the on-paper physical advantage you have, but now you feel that turning point.
It scares you, doesn’t it? Playing cuck to a shit politician and a sadomasochist forever on the outside of success looking in didn’t prepare you for this. They let you believe that everyone you manage to put down is going to stay down. They didn’t tell you that the hundred and seventy pound guy from the Southside was going to find his way back to you, that he’d work through a battered rib cage just to teach you a lesson. So..now you find yourself caught in the headlights. You toss and turn at night and struggle to get a decent amount of sleep, because the welts that I left on your body at Clash make it impossible to get comfortable.
Maybe...it didn’t have to be this way. I could’ve gone out there and given my little positivity speech to my fanbase and ended up in a more natural and friendly pursuit of someone or something else. You chose to go out there and press pause, now I’ve just pressed play. When I go out there and make what you’ve done to me look grade school, you’ll only have yourself to blame. By going after me the way you did, you didn’t get yourself a match against the same Spencer Adams everyone in 2020 did...you let in the Spencer Adams who drove Adam Young head first into the bottom of an empty dumpster. You want extra? You want your Kodak moment? You’ve got it.
You probably should be ragdolling Jaice Wilds around instead, but ya know, it’s funny how things work out sometimes. While you spent all that time and energy focused on taking me out, you ignored a crucial detail that was right in front of your face and because of that, you’re the one who is royally fucked in this situation. If you read any deeper into who I am than the sparknotes, if you took the time to understand what makes a Chicagoan, maybe you would’ve approached things a bit differently or went after another target altogether.
I get it though. You went after Spencer Adams, because Spencer Adams was somebody worth going after...and you probably knew that sooner or later, I would’ve come for you regardless. Next time, try a little harder and dive a little deeper. If you did, you’d understand what makes the people where I grew up special. Chicago doesn’t quit. We get hit with bullshit obstacles our entire lives. Roadblock after roadblock rear their ugly heads and we move forward. From the time we’re born up until our hearts beat for the final time, we are conditioned to grind. We bust our asses until we make it in whatever we find ourselves going after.
I’m talking about real Chicago, not the David Sanchez version that only serves to prove that you actually can be both a minority and really fucking racist against minorities at the same time. We are who we are, even if the successor to Lori Lightfoot turns out to be a Columbian Donald Trump, we fight the good fucking fight. People like yourself and the company that you keep are about to learn real fucking quick what real looks like. For now, you stand there..cocky and blissfully ignorant, but you’re only days away from a Curb Your Enthusiasm-type moment of clarity.
You are used to fighting knee benders, people who can easily be pushed to the point of saying uncle. I don’t have it in my vocabulary, Mintz. You find yourself at a predictable advantage against those who are burnt out, lesser, used to a life of underachieving..or all of the above. Knocking around the Corey Bulls of the world, that’s your bread and butter shit. Going after me and seemingly lumping me in the category was stupid and fatal. Did you just not pay close enough attention to the list of names I stormed through this past year?
Odin.
Kemp.
Hope.
Ainsworth.
FemDom.
Wright.
Adlers.
Slane.
Baker.
COREY FUCKING BLACK.
You may think you’re brand building and making a case for yourself as a unanimous breakout, but you’ve gone after someone who can define you as they see fit. Before me, you could’ve gotten on just fine as a value star fulfilling a particular niche within this business. Now, your trajectory is in my hands. I can make you or I can break you and given that you’ve spent the past few weeks trying to end my career, I’m going to do the same in return. I’m sure you weighed the on-paper physical advantage you have, but now you feel that turning point.
It scares you, doesn’t it? Playing cuck to a shit politician and a sadomasochist forever on the outside of success looking in didn’t prepare you for this. They let you believe that everyone you manage to put down is going to stay down. They didn’t tell you that the hundred and seventy pound guy from the Southside was going to find his way back to you, that he’d work through a battered rib cage just to teach you a lesson. So..now you find yourself caught in the headlights. You toss and turn at night and struggle to get a decent amount of sleep, because the welts that I left on your body at Clash make it impossible to get comfortable.
Maybe...it didn’t have to be this way. I could’ve gone out there and given my little positivity speech to my fanbase and ended up in a more natural and friendly pursuit of someone or something else. You chose to go out there and press pause, now I’ve just pressed play. When I go out there and make what you’ve done to me look grade school, you’ll only have yourself to blame. By going after me the way you did, you didn’t get yourself a match against the same Spencer Adams everyone in 2020 did...you let in the Spencer Adams who drove Adam Young head first into the bottom of an empty dumpster. You want extra? You want your Kodak moment? You’ve got it.