Post by AJ Knight on Feb 19, 2023 2:15:32 GMT
AJ sits on the ring apron in Bastian Krull’s Dojo, the camera is on him. He is sweaty and exhausted. He looks at it with something of a sad smirk.
“Why the hell am I here? Why did I come back?”
AJ leans back into the ropes sighing.
“I’ve been asking myself that for a while. Did I do my legacy a disservice by coming back here? Really it hasn’t gone too well for me. Out in the first round of the Hijo Memorial, lost in a Captains Fall Match, and my weird best frenemies tag team with David Troy got off to a pretty rocky start. I haven’t actually won one match since I came back. I’m not complaining. A lot of that’s on me. But I’m wondering if I’ve become what I’ve hated: The vet who’s just taking up space.”
Self loathing is evident here. In a rarity you can almost see AJ measuring his words. Taking stock of what he needs to say next.
“See, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I’m one of the best paid guys on the roster. The only one making more than me is Pollo Dorado II, which I’m sure is no surprise given that he is both the champion and named Pollo. And sure I’ve added name value, my name on posters has certainly sold tickets. But I don’t know if I’ve really held up my end of the bargain. It feels like I’m just going through the motions. Like I’m just here to be here. And that scares me shitless.”
AJ puts his head in his hands. You can hear him audibly shudder at what he fears he’s becoming.
“I remember being a young up and comer in Lion’s Road, when I was pretty much still just a kid, I remember walking through the locker room. I would watch the vets, the guys who had forgotten more about the business than I’d ever known. And I thought to myself: how much do these guys have to still love this sport to be here after all these years? All the sacrifice, all the pain and sacrifice they’ve gone through. But they’re still here, still grinding, still scratching, still clawing, still sacrificing everything for this sport. How dedicated are they to still be here?”
Now a wistful, nostalgic smile crosses his face, slowly transforming into a frown.
“Then I saw them for what really was happening. Never meet your heroes so they say. There wasn’t passion left for the sport, that wasn’t why they were here. It was a paycheck, it was because they just had no idea what else to do with themselves. Nothing outside the ring, nothing left besides this sport, and I swore to myself. I vowed and I promised that I would never be like them. I’d either wrestle my whole career with my whole heart in it or I wouldn’t wrestle at all, I’d hang it up and I would NEVER just be here for a paycheck. I would be here because I wanted to be, not just because I had nowhere else to go…”
Now he’s just disgusted with himself. A facial expression that seems to indicate he’s trying not to throw up in his mouth takes center stage. He looks at the camera nearly in tears.
“And now I’ve broken my promise. I’ve become what I hate. I’ve become Alexander Irvine. And this rumble might be my last chance to prove I’m not. That I’m here because I still have something left to give to this sport, that I’m still contributing something to this company. That I am worth EVERY GODDAMN PENNY THEY SHELL OUT FOR MY CONTRACT!”
AJ jumps off the apron and grabs ahold of the camera, almost rabidly yelling into it.
“I was the fucking face of this brand! And I am going to be again! I will not be a has been! I will not be a relic! I will not be the past! I WILL NOT BREAK MY GOD DAMN PROMISE!”
AJ calms down a touch, and with an almost eerily calm voice stares through the camera as though he is looking into the eye of one man on the other side of the camera.
“Keep that belt warm for me Dorado, it’s mine. You just don’t know it yet.”
“Why the hell am I here? Why did I come back?”
AJ leans back into the ropes sighing.
“I’ve been asking myself that for a while. Did I do my legacy a disservice by coming back here? Really it hasn’t gone too well for me. Out in the first round of the Hijo Memorial, lost in a Captains Fall Match, and my weird best frenemies tag team with David Troy got off to a pretty rocky start. I haven’t actually won one match since I came back. I’m not complaining. A lot of that’s on me. But I’m wondering if I’ve become what I’ve hated: The vet who’s just taking up space.”
Self loathing is evident here. In a rarity you can almost see AJ measuring his words. Taking stock of what he needs to say next.
“See, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I’m one of the best paid guys on the roster. The only one making more than me is Pollo Dorado II, which I’m sure is no surprise given that he is both the champion and named Pollo. And sure I’ve added name value, my name on posters has certainly sold tickets. But I don’t know if I’ve really held up my end of the bargain. It feels like I’m just going through the motions. Like I’m just here to be here. And that scares me shitless.”
AJ puts his head in his hands. You can hear him audibly shudder at what he fears he’s becoming.
“I remember being a young up and comer in Lion’s Road, when I was pretty much still just a kid, I remember walking through the locker room. I would watch the vets, the guys who had forgotten more about the business than I’d ever known. And I thought to myself: how much do these guys have to still love this sport to be here after all these years? All the sacrifice, all the pain and sacrifice they’ve gone through. But they’re still here, still grinding, still scratching, still clawing, still sacrificing everything for this sport. How dedicated are they to still be here?”
Now a wistful, nostalgic smile crosses his face, slowly transforming into a frown.
“Then I saw them for what really was happening. Never meet your heroes so they say. There wasn’t passion left for the sport, that wasn’t why they were here. It was a paycheck, it was because they just had no idea what else to do with themselves. Nothing outside the ring, nothing left besides this sport, and I swore to myself. I vowed and I promised that I would never be like them. I’d either wrestle my whole career with my whole heart in it or I wouldn’t wrestle at all, I’d hang it up and I would NEVER just be here for a paycheck. I would be here because I wanted to be, not just because I had nowhere else to go…”
Now he’s just disgusted with himself. A facial expression that seems to indicate he’s trying not to throw up in his mouth takes center stage. He looks at the camera nearly in tears.
“And now I’ve broken my promise. I’ve become what I hate. I’ve become Alexander Irvine. And this rumble might be my last chance to prove I’m not. That I’m here because I still have something left to give to this sport, that I’m still contributing something to this company. That I am worth EVERY GODDAMN PENNY THEY SHELL OUT FOR MY CONTRACT!”
AJ jumps off the apron and grabs ahold of the camera, almost rabidly yelling into it.
“I was the fucking face of this brand! And I am going to be again! I will not be a has been! I will not be a relic! I will not be the past! I WILL NOT BREAK MY GOD DAMN PROMISE!”
AJ calms down a touch, and with an almost eerily calm voice stares through the camera as though he is looking into the eye of one man on the other side of the camera.
“Keep that belt warm for me Dorado, it’s mine. You just don’t know it yet.”