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To Whom Much Is Given, Much Is Earned
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Topic Started: Sep 7 2017, 08:25 PM (84 Views)
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MrBiscut
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Sep 7 2017, 08:25 PM
Post #1
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Do Your Worst,I've Heard All The Brokeback Cracks
- Posts:
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Standing outside the SNHU center, Alexander Owens is still sporting the finest traces of a bruise under his left eye. COTT had been a rough night and nearly two weeks after he is still very much recovering; physically at least. Taking a long drag from a plastic shake thermos; he eyes are looking off into the Manchester night.
Owens: You know life has a strange way of coming full circle. I started in this place, the PRW, and honestly not a single person could have cared I was here. Then I disappear for a few months and I come back; a fire in my gut and the whole world ahead of me. I put on a banner year of performance but I came up short. Then I disappeared again for few months. A little R&R for my mind and my aching body. Then I come back to full on fanfare, then suddenly I’m just another guy in hustle and from every angle I get told one thing: What happened? I get questioned about my passion, my conviction. People keep saying where was I, what happened to me. I get asked if I’m really in this for the long haul. Get told that I’m just waste potential. Just like I keep hearing towards the end of my initial run. And you know what?
Owens takes a long swig from his shake, his eyes narrowing a bit.
Owens: I could care less about those people and their empty words. Despite what other think I love this business. I’ve love since first saw. I loved since my first match in a middle of nowhere leaky VFW hall. I loved it in every main event I’ve been part of. I still love it today. But more than that I respect this business and its unspoken by-laws. I’ve played my part in this world and stayed in my lane. And you know what? It served me well and I’ve made an impact regardless of the naysayers. But more than that I garnered respect from some of the best in this business.
Owens puts the thermos to his side and runs his finger through his sweat moistened hair. His face says a thousand things all at once but most of all it says one thing in particular: focus.
Owens: And from all those men I’ve earned one of the most precious things in this business: respect. Cagey vets like Joey Nox, a man I stood across and gave my all in winning effort; has given me praise and respect. Another pillar in this business and the current X-Champ John Bane respects me. He’s one of the meanest scariest bastard around be he live by one principle: real recognizes real. The list goes on and on. Hell that greased up walking ego trip Gates even hold a modicum of respect for me. I earned their respect. Yet somehow I still get grief and hate. Largely from a man that should know better: Alex LeBlanc.
His listless glance is gone, his body is rigid and ready; pumped full of the energy that only comes from speaking the truth.
Owens: Of anyone, he should respect me. I brought him closer to the edge than he’d been brought in years but he done almost nothing since but rain jabs and jeers towards me. But honestly I’m not surprised. During those two months we tangled last year we must have done a thousand press junkie and event together. At everyone he was all smiles and handshakes but that was just a mask. Even then he was slipping the barbs; thinly veiled little remarks. But I played my part; a humble and bright eyed rookie just happy to be in the ring with a man like you, a legend in his own time and the minds of millions; a true main eventer.
Owens is rolling now; not an ounce of rest lying within him. He’s on fire; letting out a lot of emotion and deep seated anger.
Owens: Even back then you believe your own hype. And your back and talking about how people keep talking about you and golden shovel; how your the only real main eventer and attraction in the PRW. That hit took to head at COTT must rattle you pretty hard cause you're obviously hearing things and hallucinating. You’re not the only name that matters around here. And your name recognition might get tickets sold but a free t-shirt and little extra mustard on hot dog could get the same results. And as for your golden shovel? It’s more of golden parachute. Your legacy and story career; just a little bit more cash promised to you when finally give it up and let yourself stay away. But don’t forget this. Your name and accomplishment might shine bright, just like a parachute made of gold but in time and one day it gonna fail you and your gonna drop: just like parachute made of gold.
Reaching a peak, Owens suddenly put on the brakes. He knows where he is going and he know he needs to not go their. He needs control. And that just what he has: control.
Owens: But you know what? I’m not gonna play your game. I’m not gonna let you hook line into the pulse of PRW and leech your way back to the top. I’ve, we’ve got better things to do. I’ve got the chance of lifetime at Bloodletting. I’ve got another shot at X-title against the premier holder of that title: John Bane. Then on top of that there’s gonna be two more guys; each a legend in their own right likely vying for same thing. So in light of that I’ve gotta train. I’ve gotta recover. I’ve gotta get to work. I’ve gotta earn another modicum of respect, another notch on the belt, one more thing to the list of accomplishments.
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