Post by Jeremiah Gail on Apr 11, 2021 22:50:52 GMT -5
A familiar, blue truck pulls up in front of a squat, red brick building in Phoenix, Arizona. The door opens, and out steps McGrady, Jeremiah Gail’s long time coach and friend. The old-timer stares at the building for a few seconds, his brow furrowed and his gaze far off. He’s disrupted from his stupor by a coughing fit. McGrady doubles over, almost falling to the ground as he hacks away. Grabbing the side of the truck he pulls himself to his feet, gasping for air. He takes a minute, breathing deeply and leaning against the truck. He stares at the desert sky above. Shaking his head, McGrady walks into the building.
Inside, we see Jeremiah Gail practicing in a ring, with a man in a green and yellow luchador mask. Above the ring is a banner reading “TRW”. Trash is strewn about from a show the previous night. Gail hits the luchador with a number of fierce kicks, then puts him down with the Quick Draw. On one knee, he looks towards the door, at McGrady. Then, he gets up and helps the luchador to his feet. The two converse for a minute, then shake hands. Gail rolls out of the ring and walks over to McGrady.
“So… you ready, champ?”
Gail grimaces.
“Fucking hell, McGrady. Save it for later. I haven’t even had a match yet, and you’re already playing to my ego.”
“I’m not playing. Boy, I’ve seen you in this ring for the last 3 months, preparing, training, boiling with anticipation. If you aren’t ready to be a champion by now, then you better walk out that door right now.”
“...”
“That’s what I thought. Now, who are you?”
“I’m Jeremiah Gail.”
“Right. And when you get between those ropes, they might be stronger than you. They might be faster than you. They might be smarter than you. But you still win. Why?”
“Because I don’t give a shit about anyone.”
“No. None of that edgy shit right now. If you’re gonna be a champ, you have to face up to the facts. We’re on the main roster now, and all these guys are out to tear you limb from limb, doesn’t matter if you care about them or not. Now. Why do you win?”
“Because… I have to. I have to provide for my family. I have to prove myself to them. I have to show my son that his father isn’t some dickwad who gets put down with one bad fall. I come back, and I prove myself. And yeah, they have reasons to win of their own, everyone’s got some sob story. But when I have to choose between your wellbeing, and my family’s, then I’m gonna kick your head in every chance I can.”
“...Now that’s what I wanted to hear. Let’s get back home. Annie’s waiting.”
The two walk out of the building together.
Jayson Price. What a way to start my main roster career. A WCF legend. 18 title reigns, a hall of famer, and a double grand slam champ.
Yet, also… a drunken, self pitying failure. How it’s happened, I can’t tell you. Price, I don’t know what happened that made things like this. I probably couldn’t even comprehend what your life’s like. Still, I can’t quite tell. Am I looking at my past… or my future?
See, allow me to introduce myself, seeing as this is my debut. Until, say, 10 months ago, I was a hateful, selfish man who was far too obsessed with his own hunger for success to realize he was digging his own grave. And it almost cost me my life. But, lucky for me, I had a friend who helped me realize what I should really prioritize. And I was able to turn things around, even got a title shot. Now yes, that didn’t end too well either. But, while I was recuperating, I had people there to support me. Life was normal. Good, even.
The thing is, though, I couldn’t completely bury that part of me that fought for himself, that wants to prove himself to the world. And that’s why I’m here now. To satiate that drive. And yes, I’m excited. But I’m also just a bit scared. Scared that part of me will never stop being hungry. Scared that I’ll give up the things I’ve regained, my second chance as it were, just to claim some golden glory at the top of Action. And from there, it’s a long ride down… Something I think you know all too well, Jayson.
The point is. I’m risking a lot by coming back into the ring. But unlike you, I’m ready to try. To see if I can make it work, to write a new story, see if fate isn’t a one way street. And I’m not gonna let some guy falling down the elevator shaft immediately knock me down.
So, Jayson? Whether you can even stand up come Monday, that’s none of my concern. I won’t care. If it takes kicking some drunk’s ass to show people I’m back…
Then so be it.