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As We Lay Dying
Topic Started: Aug 26 2015, 12:21 AM (101 Views)
SaviourSelf
Seasoned Professional
-There he is, sitting at a table, far away from the California wares that have become second nature to him and instead back where it started, back where the roots were formed and the foundation for what a remarkable career was laid and built up. Alex LeBlanc sits at the Cafe Polonez in Toronto; a not-so-short distance from the Owen Sound home of his grandfather, an even shorter distance from the Pembroke Rec Center he trained, played hockey and spent his formative years in. If California is "The Compound", and Montreal is where he was born, then Ontario, specifically the Greater Toronto Area, is "home".-

-The platter for 2, Pork Pierogis and Cabbage Rolls sitting before him, two glasses of mineral water accompanying them, LeBlanc finds himself beside the same leggy blonde that has dominated his personal moments not-so-politely recorded by PRW cameras. Smiling at her and noticing the all-encompassing and knowing red light of the camera, Alex starts to speak, slowly, with a measured timber. He's done it before and it's become second-nature after a decade on the scene, but it never gets any easier or less awkward.-

Alex: You know, this place has been here for about 40 years. It's the place where the Polish President would come on his visits to Toronto. Roncesvalles, for all its warts, is a hard-scrabble little town just outside of downtown Toronto. It's filled with Ukrainian and Poles, and in a way, this place is the meeting post for all the immigrants and second or third generation patrons of the town.

Alex: In a way, it's an institution. Forged in sweat, in dreams and aspirations. Forged in the dark by men who prayed their lives away and toiled, unrelentingly, hoping and wishing that some day their sons would see the benefit of all their hard-work, their passion and their dedication to their craft.

-Alex looks at the blonde and smirks a bit, holding her hand as a 7 year old comes back from the bathroom with a 4 year old little boy, looking quite annoyed. The 7 year old girl sits quietly, noticing the camera, and tells the 4 year old to stay quiet because "daddy is working". It's poignant and it's subtle, but the message is clear. The last word Alex's said hang in the air like a 12-6 curveball from a pitcher who has his best stuff, but he continues and goes on.-

Alex: I feel at home here, comfortable here. It's a place where like minded individuals gather and talk, break bread and talk about the way things used to be. The old countries, the 60s and 70s when you struggled to even know when you were going to eat, much less how you were going to pay rent. The days when you didn't have free thought or reign, but you hoped one day you could achieve just enough so that...

-Alex stops and points to his children, softly, tenderly.-

Alex: So that these two...could have a chance going forward.

-LeBlanc sighs a bit and shakes his head, the blonde patting his hand a bit.-

Alex: An institution. Fitting really, when you think about it. Finding me here.

-Alex looks around and takes it in. The red walls, the white tablecloths, the red napkins and even the white plates stained with food and sauces. He breathes it all in and embraces it. You never know when it'll be your last.-

Alex: For damn near a decade, I've made it a point, a spiritual mission and obligation to be the very best at what I do, to dominate this profession of ours and to be a "throwback", devoid of any of the bullshit and pageantry that the new age of business and "Wrestling" have had to offer us.

Alex: While others have toiled and made their names through social media or with buzzwords and fancy catchphrases, I've stayed the course and let my actions, my success and my professionalism carry me through. I've been the beacon of a forgotten time and a forgotten era where men were men and you fought, not talked. Where you battled and toiled, not cried and whined.

I made it a point to be about Professionalism. I made it a point to uphold honor and virtue. I made it a point to be your mother and father's favorite wrestler. Not because it was a funny tagline, but because I strictly wrestled, because I performed, because I was a man who pushed aside the bullshit and was strictly about this art. I was the "Last of the Mohicans". More than a moniker, I WAS an Outlaw.

-LeBlanc smiles, as if taking pride in finally verbally acknowledging the fact.-

Alex: I've had more success than just about anybody to wear the flag for this company. I can honestly say that I've built something here. And yet here we are, days away with a clash with a man who is my kindred spirit, days away from fighting Razer for yet another title, and something inside is gnawing away, because for the first time in a long time, I don't feel the need to be abrasive or full of braggadocio. I don't feel the need to tell Razer that I'm going to rip him limb for limb or shit on the corpse of his Merseyside brethren and ancestors...

Alex: In the past, I would spend the next ten minutes going into an epic rant of glory won and lost, paint a picture of what was to come at the PPV and make promises that I would ensure I kept. I would promise blood spilled and heads concussed, often times my own. I would lay out a blueprint for the demise of myself and my opponent. I would send a verbal telegraph to my opponent declaring why I would win because in my heart, Wrestling and being a throwback and "carrying the torch" for a forgotten era was most important to me...

-Alex stops and bites his lip.-

Alex: Until last Sunday happened.

-Lip quivering, LeBlanc continues, his deeply intimate and personal dinner with his family taking on a much darker and sinister tone.-

Alex: Last Sunday, I got word that Rosa Giselle Delgadillo, family friend, mother of two, wife of 32 years and beautiful soul in a world full of them, passed due to an aneurysm. She was 50.

Alex: Over the course of that week, I paid my respects, went to two private viewings, drove to a funeral, placed a rose on a casket and put a lady who was more of a mother to me than most anybody could claim, into the earth. I spent the better part of a week returning her to God, all powerful.

-Shaking his finger at the camera a bit, LeBlanc continues, shaken but stoic.-

Alex: We often lose sight, of why we do this. Of why we fight. We lose sight of the fact that beneath the warrior heart and the primal bloodlust lie the hearts of men, good men, fostered by people who have cared and nurtured us. Sometimes, we're lucky to take those hearts and open them up to sons and daughters, to girlfriends and wives, boyfriends or husbands. We lose sight and prioritize winning and being the best over the real reason we all decided to do this in the first place:

To make our families proud.

-LeBlanc nods a bit.-

Alex: I'm not going to end this with any over-glorification of blood-lust, any descriptions of war or battle. We're past that point, now and it's ill-suited for the situation.

Alex: We're here now, Raz, brother. We're here and we'll meet in an arena full of people and we'll do what we've always wanted to do, and try to make our family, our loved ones...proud.

It's what has driven us and motivated us both for a decade. From towns like this in Ontario, to cities like yours in England.

-Alex smirks and holds up one finger, then a second.-

Alex: The "Last King of England" ...versus the "Fighting Pride of Roncesvalles".

-LeBlanc clicks his tongue.-

Alex: Bring your "A" game, I got a 50 year old lady that I cannot and will not disappoint.

-LeBlanc chuckles.-

Alex: I have a promise made at a burial site that I have to keep.

- 4x PRW Undisputed Champion
- 2x World Tag Team Champion
- 8x Cyanide Champion
- PRW Intercontinental Champion
- PRW Triple Crown Champion
- PRW Grand Slam Champion
- PRW Hall of Famer
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