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Post by Savannah Taylor on May 26, 2016 19:45:41 GMT -5
Tuesday, May 24th, 2016 Las Vegas, Nevada OFF CAMERA
The sun was beginning to set in the Nevada sky, the once crystal blue sky now turning vibrant shades of red and orange. A mild breeze was blowing, chilling the air slightly which was an improvement over the typical heat during the day. The breeze coupled with the setting sun made for a picturesque reflection on the surface of the pool below. A well cared for backyard surrounds the in-ground pool, with a half dozen lounge chairs placed sporadically along the area surrounding the pool. A bit further away from the pool was an impressive sized patio with a patio table and chairs off to one side and a decent sized chrome colored barbecue grill on the other side. The blue and white striped umbrella planted in the center of the table was closed up and secured for the evening. Sitting in one of the chairs just in front of the doors leading from the house out onto the patio is the figure of one Savannah Taylor. Savannah sits with one leg tucked underneath her and the other dangling towards the ground. In front of her was a glass of iced tea. She takes a sip and places the glass back down onto the table with a thud. She runs a hand through her hair and leans back in her chair.
She was tired, both physically and mentally. Not more than a couple of days ago, she was in St. Louis competing against what many would call a poor man’s Savannah. It gave Savannah a sense of enjoyment when she made the other girl tap the hell out. Considering she rarely used her submission finisher, it was icing on the cake. Now she had a couple of days at home before she was back on a plane, this time her destination would be Fayetteville, North Carolina and a rematch with one Salem Cartier. In all honesty, Savannah was looking forward to a rematch with Salem. Unlike last time, there would be no questionable officiating by people who have no business wearing referee stripes. This would just be two women with a second chance at one another, the way it SHOULD have been before. It was pretty much a week of second chance matches, and Savannah wanted to do everything that she could to go two and two in one week. Another complete day of training and workouts tomorrow followed by travelling on Thursday was what she had to look forward to before Vertigo, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
It wasn’t just the demands in the ring that was causing her to be as tired as she was this week. She was a perfectionist who wasn’t happy unless she put forth her maximum effort. When she felt that she wasn’t performing up to her lofty standards, she was in a mood. She had been told time and time again that she put entirely too much pressure on herself. She had been told that she just needs to relax and to calm down a bit. In her mind though, calming down was simply not an option. The more she threw herself into work, the more she could distract herself from what was going on in her life, specifically with her mother’s deteriorating health.
The sliding glass door opened and Savannah turned her head and saw her father stepping outside, a glass of water in his hand. He walks over to the table and sits down in the chair next to his daughter.
Martin Taylor: What are you still doing out here?
Savannah Taylor: I’m just enjoying a gorgeous evening before I head home and head out to the East Coast.
Martin Taylor: First one we’ve had where it wasn’t so hot it would kill you.
Savannah Taylor: And thanks for dinner by the way, Dad. That was absolutely delicious.
The barbecue grill played host to the cooking of grilled turkey burgers which were topped with mushrooms and sliced avocado. Paired with brown rice and a tossed salad, it was both healthy and delicious. It was also the perfect excuse for a family dinner.
Martin Taylor: You’re more than welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Savannah Taylor: It’s one of the last times we’ll all have together before Harper goes off to college in the fall.
Her sister had recently been accepted to the University of Maine and was planning on majoring in child development and family relations. Savannah couldn’t have been prouder of her sister, and she knew her parents were beaming.
Savannah Taylor: How is she handling everything? I mean, graduation is next week and there's all kinds of things to get ready for college…
Martin Taylor: She’s handling as gracefully as she can. But between her honors and advanced placement classes AND softball, along with everything else, I’m amazed at how well she’s handling the pressure. If I were in her shoes, I don’t think I could do it.
Savannah Taylor: I don’t think I could either, to tell you the truth.
Martin Taylor: So says the one traveling the world and wrestling in front of thousands.
He says with a chuckle which causes Savannah to smile. Sure she was wrestling in front of thousands each episode of Vertigo or at the various FFW shows. Performing at an extremely high level week in and week out was pressure enough. But being in the public eye like Savannah was and going through the whole transition from high school to college like her sister was were two totally different things.
Savannah Taylor: Two totally different things, Dad.
Martin Taylor: Yes and no. At the end of the day, you both put pressure on yourselves to be the best, whether it is in wrestling or the classroom. I couldn’t be prouder of you both. I know I haven’t been much of a factor in your life up until recently, but I’m proud nonetheless.
Savannah Taylor: Thanks, Dad. That seriously means a lot to me. It’s just a weird feeling to have things begin to fall back into place for me, personally and professionally. I’m sort of not used to it.
Martin Taylor: You’re doing fine, from what I’ve seen. Your sister and I watched you on Saturday and I couldn’t believe how good you were. Your mother wasn’t able to see you, but she knew you’d do amazing. We’ll be watching again this Saturday as well, assuming your sister isn’t too worn out from the senior class trip.
Savannah Taylor: It’s not a big deal, really.
She says as she takes another sip from her iced tea. Something that her father just said stuck with her. In talks with both her sister and her mother, whenever Savannah asked about how her mother was doing, something told her that she wasn’t getting quite the detailed response that she had hoped for. It was a topic that was always on her mind, even as she arrived at whatever arena she was competing at. Sure she managed to turn that off when she stepped into the ring, but when she walked back behind the curtain and retreated the the solitude of her locker room, it hit her like a ton of bricks. She runs a hand through her hair as she looks over at her father, somewhat unsure of how to proceed.
Savannah Taylor: Hey Dad?
Martin Taylor: What is it?
Savannah Taylor: I’m just…...well what I’m trying to say is….
Martin Taylor: First day with your new tongue?
Savannah Taylor: Hardy har. Can you be upfront with me? Because the past couple of times I’ve talked to Mom and Harper I’ve felt like I’m not being given a clear answer.
Martin Taylor: I’ll be as upfront as you want me to be. What’s up?
Savannah Taylor: How bad are things with Mom, health wise?
Martin sighs as he sits back in his own chair. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to delve into his wife’s current condition, which wasn’t as great as everyone had thought, despite the cancer diagnosis. But the look on Savannah’s face made him push aside his reservations. She deserved to know the truth.
Martin Taylor: Honestly, things aren’t as great as they were originally made out to be. When she started the chemotherapy, she responded fairly well. Obviously she not only lost weight but her hair as well. Those were things that were to be expected, which is what the doctors told us. But within the past couple of months, something has happened and she’s not been responding to treatment as well. She’s been more tired than usual and her appetite is virtually nonexistent. Whatever she DOES manage to eat, it comes back up.
Savannah bit the inside of her lip as her father talked. This wasn’t the best news to hear a couple of days before her flight to North Carolina, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to hear from SOMEONE how her mother was really doing, and she was glad her father was telling her. There was one question forming in her mind, one question that she didn’t want to ask but if she didn’t then she would never know.
Savannah Taylor: How long do the doctors say she has?
Martin Taylor: At best? She has another year.
The news hit her like a baseball bat to the head. Her mother, while she hadn’t always been in Savannah’s life, had always been a solid force. She had always managed to do right by the people she had wronged as a result of her mistakes, the biggest one being Savannah. Last year when she ran into the sister she never knew she had, Savannah was given a second chance with her family. She gave her mother a second chance at being a mother to her, despite her being twenty seven years of age. Now she only has maybe a year left with her mother. It was selfish a little on her part, but Savannah wanted her mother to see her wrestle at her best. She would even like it if she could be there live, but that wasn’t feasible. The only chance she might have was the Vertigo that would take place from the Orleans Arena right here in Las Vegas in August. Savannah swallowed the lump in her throat as she coughed.
Savannah Taylor: Thank you Dad. I appreciate you being as open and upfront with me as you were.
Martin Taylor: It's never a problem, Savannah. We’re family and we’ll find a way to get through this.
Savannah played with her glass as she nods at her father. She wanted answers and she got answers. The answers that she got cut her down to the soul, but she would rather know the truth now than go about her business living in a fantasy where everything with her mom was fine and dandy. She would have plenty to think about when she returned to her own house later this evening as well as the flight to North Carolina. Add that to the growing list of things that occupied her mind. But she knew that when push comes to shove, she would block this latest bombshell out and focus on only Salem Cartier. The question that still remained in Savannah’s mind though was how long could she keep this up? How long could she continue to be as strong as she could before she just completely broke down?
Second chances.
Think about that for just a second. How many times in our lives have we done something to someone that resulted in the cessation of communication between us and them? For some, it’s more than most would care to think about. But then you have the rare occasion where bridges are crossed and fences are mended. It is unclear what brings about this occasion, but as soon as a second chance is given, things seem to be amazing for the most part. Second chances can go one of two ways. The first is the person who has been on the receiving end of such a chance will go out of their way to make sure nothing happens for the chance to be blown. The second is is that same person not only does or says something that not only destroys the chance they have been given, but damages the relationship and sense of trust they had once upon a time.
I’m going to be completely honest with you, I fall into the first grouping. For one reason or another in my personal life, I’ve been given not one but two second chances, each one means the absolute world to me. I’ve often sat and wondered just what I’ve done to deserve this. You can bet your ass that I would rather swan dive from the top of the Stratosphere Tower in Las Vegas than mess things up. The same can easily be said for my professional life as well.
We meet again, Salem.
First off, let me just say that I am actually looking forward to our match this Saturday. We finally have a chance, a legitimate chance to see who the better wrestler is between us. No outside interference, no cheap tactics, and especially no shady officiating by people who should seriously stick to wrestling. The chance to see who the better wrestler is makes me very happy.
I want you to think back to that first match. That had all the makings of an instant classic. The familiar face versus the unfamiliar newcomer. For only my second match since I signed with FGA, I got a good one. I was, and still am, looking to prove myself here. I’ve got all the talent and credentials to back up everything that comes out of my mouth. But this is a whole different ballgame. This is the ultimate proving grounds here in the wrestling world. I know chances like this come few and far between. That is why I’m not taking any unnecessary risks. It’s why I’ve been in the gym training like a mad woman. Its why I’ve been watching that match over and over again, looking at ways that I could improve myself.
I knew I’d get another shot to beat you.
Oh sure, you got the better of me the first time. I tip my hat to you there. But answer me this, Salem. How does it feel knowing that you only beat me by the mere skin of your teeth? How does it feel knowing that if it wasn’t for, ahem, dubious circumstances, I would have walked away with the win? It doesn’t sit well with you, does it? It eats you alive knowing that I was mere INCHES away from pinning your shoulders clean to the mat. How the hell do you think it makes me feel?
How do you think I feel spending all that time wondering “What if?” If you think nearly losing to you ate you up a bit, imagine what it has done to me. Do you understand what a blow to my pride that was? It pissed me off to watch your hand raised in victory and smug little smiles shared everywhere. I could have easily gone to the front office and demanded a rematch right then and there. Instead I held my tongue and waited as patiently as I could until the day finally arrived. Now that my second chance has arrived, things are going to go the way that they SHOULD have gone. Now we will find out just how much you have improved since last time. If you compare what we have done during the time since our last meeting, then I’m afraid I have less than favorable news to share. Oh sure, you’ve racked up wins here and there, but there is absolutely nothing that screams amazing to me. As a matter of fact, I can think of only one victory you’ve had in recent weeks that made a blip on my radar. You managed to beat a ginger over in RISE. Wow Salem, just….wow. You really must have given it your all against her. But here is the thing that you are probably overlooking. She may only be in developmental right now and not have the experience that we have, but she’ll get better...MUCH better. Watch yourself. But while you were off fighting the gingers of the world, I was off across the globe, putting boots to asses. I’ve fought against women that if they had to face you, they would waste you within ten seconds. I didn’t come out on top, but I made people stand up and take notice. I pushed Annie Zellor….whoops, I mean...Dupree to her absolute limit. Hell, I even beat a future first ballot Hall of Famer in the middle of the ring in a sure to be Match of the Year contender. Can you claim anything of the like? I think not.
Saturday night is going to be the perfect night for fighting. Excuse me for paraphrasing Sir Elton John, but I had to. The line fit perfectly. I want you to bring the fight to me. I WANT you to push me to the limit. I WANT you at your best. I want all of these things so that WHEN I beat you, and yes that is WHEN and not IF, I can finally begin to wipe away the stain behind our last match. Best of luck, Salem. Some may need it more than others.
Auf Wiedersehen.
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Post by Savannah Taylor on May 19, 2016 14:51:34 GMT -5
Favorite Match(es): LPDI vs. Justice Riot, SSTC vs. Molly Reid, Zero McHannon vs. Annie Zellor.
Favorite Segment(s): Jimmy/Chandler. 'Nuff said.
Most Memorable Moment(s): See above response.
Wrestler(s) Of The Show: Le Pacte de Immortels, Zero McHannon, SSTC.
What Do You Think Happens Next: Hype Dynamic Duos semi final action. More Jimmy Page shenanigans.
Closing Thoughts: When we do get the inevitable Jimmy/Chandler match, that is going to make The Red Wedding look OH SO TAME.
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Post by Savannah Taylor on May 12, 2016 19:35:10 GMT -5
Friday, April 15th, 2016 Hershey, Pennsylvania OFF CAMERA
Before every major sporting event, most athletes like to take some time to themselves and stay within the comfort and confines of their hotel rooms. Most like to use the quiet time to focus on what they have been working towards the next night. Many believe that time spent by themselves, especially the night before an important contest, is a vital element for future success. Professional wrestlers are no different than baseball, football or basketball players. Most seeked out and even craved the alone time rather than lose focus going out and getting absolutely wasted the night before a show.
The Hilton Garden Inn was the hotel of choice of many of the FGA stars in town for the annual Gold Rush Rumble event. However, most of the roster wasn’t at the hotel. Hell, most of them weren’t even in Pennsylvania. They were in New York celebrating a birthday of one of their own. It was supposed to be the kind of event that those who were in attendance would remember for a while to come. In the case of one FGA wrestler in particular, she wanted next to nothing to do with the birthday girl. Not when she was set to face her tomorrow night.
Indeed, it was safe to say that Savannah Taylor was no major fan of Annie Zellor. The Las Vegas native had made her feelings known on more than one occasion, so all that was left was to back up her words. Savannah slowly paced the multicolored carpet in front of the king sized bed in her room, looking deep in thought. Wearing a pair of semi loose fitting black yoga pants with a hot pink cheetah print waistband and a plain white oversized t-shirt, she is the picture of Friday night comfort as opposed to going out and partying until dawn. The flat screen television was on, playing the eleven o’clock broadcast of SportsCenter, but to Savannah this was merely background noise. She walked over to the window and looked out at the night sky. A sigh escapes her lips as she runs a hand through her hair, shaking the loose waves over her shoulders. Her mind was a jumble of several random thoughts and feelings, most of which kept her from getting a fairly decent night’s sleep. She was obviously thinking about her in ring game and how she had personally been feeling like she was letting down those around her that believed in her and were quick to show support. Ever since she first climbed into a ring, she wanted to be the best that she could be. She wanted to do right by the people who had faith in her and felt that she could do anything. If that meant adding more time in the gym or even more film study, she was going to do it.
Perhaps even more pressing than wrestling was her family, more specifically her mother. Her once fractured relationship with her mother and her father was being mended fairly well. She got them back into her life, as well as the sister she never knew she had, almost a year ago, and she couldn’t be happier. Her mother was also approaching one year since she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was keeping up a brave front and telling people just what was going on, but Savannah could tell that the bad days were ever so slowly starting to outnumber the good. Her mother told Savannah not to worry too much and to keep her eyes on her wrestling, but deep down Savannah was having a hard time coping that she could lose her mother at any time down the road. Probably the biggest thing on her mind, second only to her mother, was the one thing always on her mind and in her heart. No matter where she was or what she was doing, Chandler Scott was always at the front of her mind. More than anyone, his opinion matter the most to her. He was the one she wanted to do right by the most. With what he was currently going through thanks to Jimmy Page, Savannah wanted to not only be there for him, but wanted to see karma dished out as well. If she could help in any way during the Gold Rush Rumble, then she was going to do it, no questions asked.
Savannah is snapped out of her reverie by the sounds of ‘The Rains of Castamere’ coming from her iPhone 6S on the nightstand. Smiling a bit, she flops onto the bed and reaches over, answering the phone and activating the speaker function as well.
Savannah Taylor: Hello little sister.
She says as her sister Harper chuckles on the other end of the line.
Harper Taylor: Someone is in a good mood despite it being…….whatever time of night it is over there.
Savannah Taylor: Just after eleven.
Harper Taylor: Exactly.
Savannah Taylor: So what’s up?
Harper Taylor: I was just calling to say hey to my sister. I know you’re going to be busy as all get up tomorrow, so I figured I’d catch you now.
Savannah Taylor: I’m glad you did.
She clears her throat as she sets the phone down on the pillow.
Savannah Taylor: Listen, I want you to know how sorry I am that I’m missing your birthday tomorrow.. I really wanted to be there for at least part of it.
Harper Taylor: I know. I’m not the least bit upset though.
Savannah Taylor: You only turn eighteen once though.
Harper Taylor: I know, but you have more important things to worry about tomorrow, like winning the Mid Atlantic Legacy title and kicking butt in the Rumble.
Savannah can’t help but smile as she hears the enthusiasm in her sister’s voice.
Savannah Taylor: Well I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that happens. So, what are the big plans for tomorrow? Doing anything special?
Harper Taylor: Well I just got back from dinner with a bunch of friends. As for tomorrow, I’m having a bunch of people over tomorrow for a pay per view party.
Savannah Taylor: A what now?
Harper Taylor: A pay per view party. A bunch of friends are coming over for food, fun and more importantly, watching the Gold Rush Rumble pay per view tomorrow.
Savannah was silent for a second as she gulped.
Savannah Taylor: Really? You could do anything you wanted for your birthday, and you are choosing to spend it watching a show I’m on?
Harper Taylor: You got it.
Savannah Taylor: Knowing a large group of high school seniors are watching? No pressure there.
Harper Taylor: You underestimate the size of the fansbase you have.
Savannah Taylor: Woah woah, let’s not be too hasty. I’m not the most popular wrestler around.
Harper Taylor: I meant here in Las Vegas.
Savannah Taylor: Well that makes more sense.
Harper Taylor: You’ll have an entire city in your corner. You need to stop putting so much pressure on yourself.
Savannah Taylor: You’re starting to sound like Mom.
She says with a smile. What her sister just told her was pretty much exactly what her mother has told her, as well as a host of other people.
Harper Taylor: I’ll take that as a compliment.
Savannah Taylor: How is she doing?
Harper Taylor: She’s doing…….okay. She had her chemo treatment today, and that just seemed to wipe out her energy more than normal. She’s actually been asleep for about an hour and a half now, which is weird and a little disconcerting.
Savannah Taylor: It’s hard on all of us, and this is another reason why I can’t wait to get back and see everyone. Will you tell her I’ll call her sometime tomorrow?
Harper Taylor: Absolutely.
The two sisters share a moment of silence before their conversation continues. Savannah had a monumental task ahead of her tomorrow night, one that she would risk everything to achieve. She had to survive what many would call a brutal triple threat match earlier in the evening, and then go on to compete in the Gold Rush Rumble. Wrestling two matches in one night? People would look at that and call her crazy. But the last time Savannah wrestled twice in one night, she won both times and walked away with a priceless championship. Maybe lighting would strike twice for her. She’d find out tomorrow night. She knew that with an event of this magnitude, one hundred percent of her focus needed to be on both matches. Some would call this a case of easier said than done, but Savannah would make it work. Either that or she’d die trying.
It’s been a few weeks and I’m still thinking about the Gold Rush Rumble. It was supposed to be a coming out party of sorts. That night was supposed to be my chance to show everyone that I did indeed belong with the big dogs here in the FGA. I put my heart and soul into that night. I pour my sweat, tears, and obviously blood in the hopes of walking away as Mid Atlantic Legacy champion. But did I win? Nope. Did Izzy Anders win? Nope.
Annie Zellor won. Whoopie freaking doo.
Instead of celebrating MY title win or congratulating Izzy on cementing her legacy here in FGA, we had to sit back and watch as Annie was hoisting the title high above her head. I have seen a lot of things in wrestling that make me mad. I have seen a lot of things that annoy me. Watching the FGA’s own Mary Sue winning her first singles title ever pretty much takes the cake. I know people have been accusing me of being jealous of Annie. I know people say that I outright hate Annie. Neither of these statements are true. Annie has absolutely nothing that I would be jealous about. I would say I am more ambivalent towards her rather than outright hating her. I am rather confident that our paths will cross again. When they do, she had better be ready because I intend on taking that precious little title she hold dearly around her waist. But until then, I am comfortable just sitting back and biding my time.
As tempting as it is to focus on Annie, I’ve got something that takes precedence this week. I am tasked with opening the show against one Asa Constant. I am tasked with trying to unravel the mystery of someone that few know anything about. Listen, I am not the least bit slighted or offended by being put in the show opener spot. I’m comfortable with just about any place on the card and with anyone they decide to throw at me. I’m actually quite thrilled that they are giving me someone who has yet to wrestle here in FGA. With the way things have been going for me as of late, I could use all the ego boosting I can get. I’m going to quite enjoy being the litmus test for the rookie. I just hope he’ll be ready. Lord knows I will be ready come Saturday night.
Let me see a show of hands. How many people, after watching the Gold Rush Rumble, would think that I would be absolutely livid at losing my chance at the Mid Atlantic Legacy championship? How many people would think I am disgusted at my performance in the Gold Rush Rumble? Do you want to know the answer to these two questions? I am neither livid nor disgusted. I hold no intense hatred or anything else towards Annie Zellor or the co Rumble winners. Instead I am merely disappointed. I am disappointed in myself because I know i am better than what I have shown. I know that I am good. I know how to get the job done inside of the ring. I do believe that it is high time that I start reminding people just who the hell I am. It’s time that these people get to know the woman looking to leaving a tarnished past out in California behind her.
Enter the rookie.
Asa, let me be the first to officially welcome you aboard. I know, I know. A positive greeting coming from me of all people. It sounds silly and borderline outrageous, doesn’t it? Maybe this is a sign that times are changing and I’m actually willing to welcome the new competition to the fold with open arms.
Or maybe I’m simply trying to lull you into a false sense of security before pouncing on you like a lion pounces on a helpless gazelle before devouring it like it will never have another meal as long as it lives. You decide.
Let me make one thing clear, Asa. This right here, this entire atmosphere surrounding the FGA as a whole, it is different than anything you have experienced in your fledgling career. Let me put it in terms that even a rookie can understand. You are Nemo and you are about to dive straight into an ocean full of Great White sharks, with your bad fin and all. You had better learn to swim and swim well, because the predators can sense when you off. They can sense weakness and won’t hesitate to tear you apart. How fortunate for you that your debut match here in FGA is against someone who, let’s face it, hasn’t exactly had the greatest of times so far. Hey, I’m woman enough to admit that. I am woman enough to admit when things haven’t always gone as planned. But I am also woman enough to realize that certain aspects of my game have to change if I am going to live up to everyone’s expectations of me. I’m going to have to become stronger. I’m going to have to become faster. I’m going to have to become more aggressive than I’ve been. In short, i am going to have to revert back, in ring wise, to the woman that I was before I came to FGA. The woman that I was before, the wrestler side, she didn’t care what she had to do in order to won. She didn’t care what she put her body through as long as she not only won but left the fans speechless and wanting more.
How very unfortunate for you, Asa. How unfortunate that you, a wet behind the ears rookie who has all the potential in the world to make a name for yourself in this industry, has to come face to face with a woman who has her back against the wall and a whole lot to prove to people. I know you have a lot to prove to people as well, what with this being your debut match and all. But let us not kid ourselves. This isn’t about you at all, Asa. This is about me. This is about me shaking off whatever it is that has been keeping me from reaching my full potential. This is about me showing off the in ring skills and abilities that brought me to this particular dance in the first place. I guess I should be thanking you though. I should be thanking you for volunteering to be my sparring dummy. I really should thank you because when you get right down to it, this isn’t going to be much of a match. This is going to be a warm up for things to come later on down the road. But if you are feeling froggy enough and decide that you want to take the ultimate leap of faith and actually want to challenge me, then please, by all means do your worst. Saturday marks the beginning of a new chapter in my career. It also marks the date where a rookie learned first hand that when you come face to face with someone who doesn’t really have a lot to professionally lose, it is sometimes best just to stay the hell home.
The more I keep thinking about this match, the more I am drawn to something. No, it isn’t the fact that most would assume I’m upset at the fact I am facing a relatively unknown wrestler. I could care less about that. But the more I keep thinking about the match on Saturday and the more I see this as a career rebirth, the more I am drawn to the words from a popular science fiction television show. It is one of my eighteen year old sister’s favorite programs, one that whenever I visit her at my parents house, she forces me to watch. Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men ti light the flame. Whatever the cost. Asa, I am not asking you nor am i begging you. I am giving you permission to grab a match and light the fire. Light the fire so that the old and disappointing can wither away in the flames and a new and improved Siren can emerge from the ashes and smoke. When the new Siren emerges from the flames, you can rest assured that I am bringing hell with me. Saturday Night in Johnson City, Tennessee, you and everyone else are going to sit back and watch as I begin to fight, scratch and claw my way to the place that allows me to stand among the elite of this company. Consider this match a hard lesson learned, Asa. You can prepare both mentally and physically until you reach the breaking point and want to give up. All the preparation won’t be enough, not when I am through. See you Saturday.
Auf Wiedersehen.
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Post by Savannah Taylor on May 2, 2016 14:51:50 GMT -5
Favorite Match(es): Justice Riot vs. Project Continuum, Status Quo vs. Team Nox
Favorite Segment(s): Zero/SSTC/Johnny Cannon
Most Memorable Moment(s): That.....Main......Event....Ending.......YAS!
Wrestler(s) Of The Show: Justice Riot, Status Quo, Silk & Cyanide
What Do You Think Happens Next: More hijinks that will lead to pain
Closing Thoughts: I've said this before, but I am SO glad I'm here. I'm honestly having fun in this game again. Keep up the fantabulous work!
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Apr 14, 2016 19:52:06 GMT -5
Have you ever watched a major sporting event, like the Superbowl for example, and watch how the players on the field perform under pressure? It is the biggest game of the year, and millions of people are watching twenty two men, eleven in each team, slugging it out on the field for just about an hour. The best teams from each conference playing for ultimate supremacy. But the closer you look at each team, it all boils down to how well the quarterback performs when all eyes are on him. When the pressure is on and the game is on the line, it is up to the quarterback to carry the burden for his team. There is no better example of coolness under pressure than Tom Brady. He is the type of guy that when the game is tied with under two minutes to play, you know he is going to do everything within his capabilities to drive down the field and win the game. How else do you explain Superbowl thirty six in his rookie year?
I’m no Tom Brady. I don’t claim to be God tier in my chosen craft. But I’d like to think I share at least a little bit of his cool-as-a-cucumber-under-pressure characteristics. I’ve been in matches before where the stakes have been pretty high. More often than not, I’ve come out on top, even when the detractors and naysayers have counted me out. It gives me a great ing as far as winning sense of pride and is a boost to my ego when I imagine them wiping the shocked expression from their faces. But this match Saturday, the Gold Rush Rumble, this is a completely different ballgame.
I’ve heard stories and seen past Rumbles to know that this match doesn’t mess around. If you fail to bring your A+ game, then you are done before you begin. To me, there is no greater pressure cooker situation to be in than that. Its why I have been a constant presence in the the gym and Crossfit centers. Its why I have been (fairly) quiet on social media. I am taking this entire event as seriously as the next person. I know that to do well in the Rumble, even going so far as winning the entire thing, that would be the best way to create a legacy here in FGA.
But I’m also something of a realist. I know that the chances of someone like me, a relative newcomer to FGA, winning the Gold Rush Rumble are fairly slim. Trust me, I want to win just as much as the next wrestler. I want to prove to these people that yes, I do indeed belong here. If I’m being honest with myself, then I would say that my efforts thus far in FGA have been adequate at best. I’ve got to double my efforts from here on out if I am going to do good by the people who have invested so much in my and who have supported me thus far.
I’m trying to stay calm under pressure, but my life outside of the ring isn’t really making things easier. The whole being paid to endorse a product bit is entirely new, and a little bit hectic. But it's the good kind of hectic. I’m finally in a place where I can actually start to have fun in this business and I can start to see just what else is out there for me. But that isn’t even the biggest thing going on in my outside life. I’m constantly worrying about how my mother is doing while I’m on the road. It’s been almost a year, this summer to be exact, since I found out about her cancer diagnosis. It’s been an emotionally draining ride thus far. She has her good days and her bad days, but recently the bad days seem to be growing in number. Not by much, but they are growing. I only JUST got my family back and am living under the threat that it could all be ripped right apart. It is a reason why I don’t seem to be getting much sleep at night. This situation coupled with the enormous amount of pressure I put on myself is driving me insane at times. But if I’m going to make my mark on the Gold Rush Rumble pay per view, I need to push everything to the side and focus on the task at hand. Sometimes, that is easier said than done.
“I've always made a total effort, even when the odds seemed entirely against me. I never quit trying; I never felt that I didn't have a chance to win.” - Arnold Palmer Being a Las Vegas native, if there is one thing I am familiar with, it is dealing with odds. You walk into any casino or to basically any place on the Strip and chances are you’ll find a place where you can plunk down your hard earned money and bet on anything. Nine times out of ten people chose to bet money on sporting events. Everything from boxing to football to basketball to horse racing sees person after person giving someone their money and then promptly praying that they get the outcome they want.
Wrestling is another sport that seems to have crept onto the betting scene. People have their heavy favorites, those dubbed to be the underdogs, those who are the longshots and those who stand virtually no chance of winning anything anytime soon. Maybe that is why events such as the Gold Rush Rumble are popular. It is here where virtually ANYTHING can happen. It is the type of match that can turn an underdog or a longshot into a superstar with a blink of an eye.
Let me be the first to admit that I am anxious about this match. Not anxious in the traditional “Oh my God my nerves are shot” sense, oh no. I’m talking about looking forward to something so much that it slowly takes over everything you think about. Ever since arriving here in FGA a little over four months ago, people have been telling me to anticipate this event above all others. After watching previous Rumbles, I can see why they would tell me. Second only to wrestling in my hometown, this is something I’ve been looking forward to. Who wouldn’t relish the chance to step in the ring and slug it out against twenty or so of the best wrestlers in the world? Who wouldn’t want to walk away with a shot at the FGA World Championship?
If you answered “No” to anything said there, kindly find the nearest plastic bag, slip it over your head and take the deepest breath possible.
The more I look at the list of participants in the Rumble, the more I realize just how much I have my work cut out for me. People like Molly Reid and Nero Darling? People look at them and think they won’t amount to anything , but they couldn’t be more wrong. They could shock everyone come Saturday. The same could be said for Fujiko Mine, Sara Cochran, and just about everyone else that the mainstream wrestling media deems unworthy of winning the Gold Rush Rumble or dismissing them because they don’t have the notoriety or the pedigree that others in the match do. That doesn’t make them any less of a threat.
Well, except for Izzy and Annie. If everything goes according to how I hope, neither one of those two will be much of a factor. But ladies, if you somehow muster up enough internal fortitude and we all end up in the ring at the same time, then I will not hesitate to unleash everything I have on you two. Again. I get it. We will all be banged up, bruised and potentially bloody. We will all be sore after putting each other through hell mere moments before. But guess what ladies? None of that matters. If you walk down the aisle for the Rumble and aren’t filled with a sudden shot of adrenaline, then there really is no hope for you. Not that there was before, because what I have planned for you two in our Triple Threat may very well warrant a stay in the nearest asylum.
Speaking of people who should be locked away in the crazy house….
Jimmy Page. I’ve been looking forward to this. Oh, what’s that? You don’t know who I am? Well bitch, you are about to find out. You are about to find out that your actions as of late are going to cost you more than you probably realize. Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention, because I have. Are you feeling proud of yourself? Are you filled with a sense of calm and are smiling to yourself because of what you did to Emily? There is nothing to feel happy or proud about. All you did was prove to everyone watching just what a coward you really are. Did it make you feel like a real man, putting your hands on her the way you did? You are no man. A real man wouldn’t resort to such cheap attacks and hollow words just to get the attention of someone else. Your entire demeanor reminds me of the spoiled sixteen year old who didn’t get the Mercedes Benz she wanted for her birthday, so she is on one long and tiring temper tantrum.
Face it, Jimmy. Your chances of winning the Gold Rush Rumble are about as existent as a rainbow colored unicorn who farts glitter. You may as well just quit while you are ahead and save yourself any further embarrassment. Your focus on Chandler is going to eventually be your downfall. What are going to do when he comes back? Are you prepared for that, Jimmy? Methinks you aren’t. That reason and that reason alone is why I’m not going to go in on you like I am Annie and Izzy. I have to leave something for him to come back to. Then we can all sit back and watch you get your LONG OVERDUE comeuppance.Enjoy your moment of peace while you can, because it won’t last long.
Oh hey, look at that. I almost forgot that a couple of people were in this thing. Then again, it’s not exactly to forget the collective wet dream of every writer of fanfiction in the known world.
Ruby Tyler. Dear, sweet Ruby. How are you doing? Feeling good? Settling into school well? Good. I want you to be as comfortable as humanly possible, because I’ve been waiting for another chance at you. I’ve been waiting since we were in THAT place to finally go toe to toe with the “famed” Ruby Tyler. I have a question for you. What is it about you that has everyone going crazy for you? Is it the never say die attitude? Is it the fact that you can take a beating and keep on ticking? I guess I just don’t get the appeal of you. It certainly isn’t the fact that you are part of one of the unofficial/official couples that fanfiction writers touch themselves over. Do us all a favor and just fuck Kevin and get it over with, mmkay? Aside from being in possession of a championship from THAT company, a title that people will always and forever associate with ME instead of YOU, all you are going to be remembered for is being the bedwarmer of Jackie Fowler. You were the launching pad for Jackie before he quickly climbed up the ranks in the wrestling world. Bet that makes you feel pretty good inside….. Slippers.
But as fun as it would be to go another round with you, I am more interested in going toe to toe with your little boyfriend. At long last we meet again, Kevin. You are finally free from the toxic Kool-Aid and familial interferences and you are back to your regular self. Congratulations. Would you like a medal? I’ve been waiting for a long while to get my hands on you, Hardaway. Don’t think that I have forgotten what happened in San Diego. Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to me, and to him. I made it a personal mission that I would go out and get some form of retribution for your actions. Saturday night, I finally get my chance. You can bet your ass I am going to make the most of it.
I could go on and on about certain others in this Rumble, but why bother? Why bother repeating things that have been said by countless others? I’ve made my intentions clear. I’ve marked out my targets, those that I want for one reason or another. Saturday night is the night that I leave my mark on this company. It is a company that I plan on calling my home for a long time to come. May the odds be ever in your favor.
Auf Wiedersehen
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Apr 13, 2016 11:30:03 GMT -5
Wednesday, April 6th, 2016 San Diego, California OFF CAMERA
The vibrant sound of Caribbean music filters through the open doors of one of Southern California’s most popular eateries. The Embargo Grill, located a less than ten minute drive from SeaWorld San Diego, is a popular restaurant that dishes up various Caribbean, Latin American and Cuban cuisine. On any given day, the well sized and inviting dining room was filled to capacity with patrons either going to or coming from SeaWorld. The more spacious outdoor patio offered panoramic views of the city as well as a respite from the inside, a place to enjoy a nice meal and better company. On this particular afternoon, the outdoor patio was fairly empty, with only about five patrons seated around two out of the six tables. Seated at the table that is tucked away in the corner of the patio closest to the door are two women, one with black hair and the other with golden blond hair. To the untrained eye, these women could pass for your average, everyday San Diego residents out for a nice lunch underneath a crystal clear Southern California sky. Upon closer inspection, the blonde is current FGA wrestler Savannah Taylor. Her raven haired companion is the highly decorated and equally respected Hall of Fame wrestler Angela Jameson. The two women appear to be relaxing in the picturesque Southern California weather, complete with bright sunshine and crystal blue skies.
It was a welcome break for Savannah. Her life was starting to become busier and more intense, with her profile in wrestling continuing to rise and her beginning to take outside endorsement deals. Her first major one, with the Viva La Juicy perfume line from Juicy Couture, was keeping her busy in between matches. But she wouldn’t have it any other way, really. She was out in Los Angeles doing promotional engagements for Juicy when she received a phone call from the veteran, inviting her to lunch. So Savannah was more than happy to make the trek to the familiar surroundings of San Diego. It was a city that she hadn’t returned to since the infamous events of that one December night. She shoved whatever feelings she had aside for the sake of a nice lunch with one of the few people in the wrestling business that she not only trusted but considered her to be a friend.
Angela Jameson: Enjoying your lunch?
She motions to the mouth watering Jerk Chicken sandwich on the plate in front of Savannah.
Savannah Taylor: God yes. I forgot how great this place is.
Angela Jameson: It’s why I suggested it. Last time we were here was just about a year ago.
Savannah Taylor: When other….THINGS were going on.
She shook her head slightly, trying her best to forget the reason why she was here one year ago and the circumstances surrounding it.
Savannah Taylor: But that is all in the past now. I’m looking forward to the future.
Angela Jameson: You seem to have a bright one ahead of you, that's for sure. You seem to be pretty in demand as of late.
She said with a smirk, noticing the younger woman’s cheeks starting to flush.
Savannah Taylor: Stop. All i’m doing is taking advantage of opportunities that I never knew were out there.
Angela Jameson: See what happens when you break out of the chains that were holding you back?
Savannah Taylor: Exactly.
She takes a bite of her sandwich, wiping the corners of her mouth with the napkin that was on her lap. Angela takes a sip out of her Cafe Con Leche as she brushes a crumb off of the front of her shirt.
Angela Jameson: So when is your flight to Cincinnati leaving?
Savannah Taylor: Tomorrow morning.
Savannah was flying to Cincinnati to take part in what was being billed as a dream match against her one time coworker, Chris Strike. It was his retirement tour and her name had come up as one of the people he was most eager to face. Now the match was in four days, and the anticipation was growing.
Savannah Taylor: I start the week with Strike, and I end it with two matches where the stakes couldn’t be higher.
Angela Jameson: Which are you most anxious about?
Savannah Taylor: Honestly? The Gold Rush Rumble. At least with Annie and Izzy, I know what I’m getting into. But the Rumble? Completely different ballgame. I guess I just want to take things one match at a time after Sunday is done and in the books.
The older, more experienced veteran nods as she stabs at a piece of marinated steak on her plate and chews it slowly.
Angela Jameson: So are you ready for the triple threat match?
Savannah Taylor: As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose. Although, I do enjoy the no disqualification aspect of things.
She tried to force the words out with as much conviction as she could, but she wasn’t quite feeling it. It was something that wasn’t lost on Angela.
Angela Jameson: Now say it like you mean it.
Savannah Taylor: Pardon?
Angela Jameson: C’mon. You aren’t going to fool me. I can tell when someone isn’t telling me the truth or they aren’t convinced of something. So….spill.
Savannah Taylor: Well I can’t help but wonder in the back of my mind what the reasoning behind me being in this match is.
Angela Jameson: Come again?
Savannah sighs a bit, taking a sip out of her glass of water.
Savannah Taylor: I didn’t exactly do a standout job the first time against Izzy. The fact that there were some dubious circumstances surrounding the outcome of that match, I’m genuinely surprised that I’m getting another shot.
After the match in question, she carried on as if nothing was ever wrong or even in question. But the times where she was by herself and was able to be alone with her thoughts, the more she allowed to let every single bit of negative comments and insults to weigh her down emotionally. She closes her eyes for a second before she clears her throat.
Savannah Taylor: Nobody knows this, but do you want to know what I was feeling after that first title match?
Angela Jameson: What’s that?
Savannah Taylor: I was left feeling like I let everyone down. I let the fans down because they wanted an instant classic match. I let my family down because they had no doubts I’d walk away the winner. Hell, in some weird way I probably even let Chandler…
A coughing sound can be heard coming from Angela as she sticks out one finger, a move meant to cut Savannah off from continuing to speak.
Angela Jameson: Stop, ok? Just….stop. First of all, you didn’t let anyone down, so get that thought out of your head. One of your biggest flaws is that you put entirely too much pressure on yourself. You put the pressure on so when something goes wrong, you’re in this hole. Trust me, I’ve been there entirely too many times to count. The fans will get over it. Your family will support you no matter what goes on. As far as Chandler goes? Honey, I can tell just at a glance that the man loves you like you love him and he wants to see you succeed. You just need to relax a bit, okay?
Savannah Taylor: I guess you’re right.
Angela Jameson: Of course I’m right.
The two women share a laugh as Savannah lets what Angela just said sink in. She was right. Savannah has a habit of placing an incredible amount of pressure on herself to deliver each and every match that when something like this happens, she tends to retreat within herself.
Angela Jameson: Will you do something for me?
Savannah Taylor: Name it.
Angela Jameson: When you step into the ring next Saturday and you are staring at both Annie and Izzy, I want you to show them the side of you that few have seen. I want you to show them the woman that ran roughshod over the San Diego Bay division, and did quite well I might add. I want you so show them the woman who stood toe to toe with a bona fide monster in Justin Brooks and took him to task in one of the greatest rivalries anyone has ever seen. I want you to show them the woman who managed to put me in the hospital. Can you do that for me?
Savannah Taylor: I...yes. Yes I can.
Angela Jameson: Good. Once you do that, carry it onward to the Rumble. If you keep that up, people will be talking about you for months after the show.
Angela says with a firm tone of voice. Savannah sank back in her chair and pondered her words. For her to go back to that side of her, it wouldn't be good for the parties involved. But if she wanted to make a name for herself here in FGA, she was going to have to do whatever it took. That started with Annie and Izzy and the Mid Atlantic Legacy title.
Albert Einstein once said that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. It is somewhat human nature that, no matter how many times we try at something, to keep on going in the hopes that we will reach a different result. Even though more often than not, we are met with certain failure, the never quit attitude is a trait that is a mixture of fatal and admirable.
Wrestling is probably the greatest living example of this. Day in and day out, we see people busting their asses in the hopes of climbing that imaginary ladder of success, only to be brought crashing to the hard ground that is reality. Lets face it. This business isn’t for everyone. If you can’t handle the pressure that comes with being here and if you don’t posses a certain skillset, then you are just going to be toiling away in mediocrity, forever living out Einstein’s comment about insanity.
Let me clear something up right away. It’s something that I have heard rumblings about for the better part of a week. Contrary to what people are saying or may think, I don’t hate Izzy Anders. You hear that Izzy? I don’t hate you. Am I a fan of yours? You have your fleeting moments where you actually show yourself to be a decent human being. But most of the time, I’m indifferent to most of whatever you have to say. Is this arrogant and overconfident of me? Possibly, but have you just met me? Arrogance and confidence go hand in hand with me. Get used to it. I didn’t get to this stage of my career by playing the America’s sweetheart role. Then again neither have you, Izzy.
The more that I get thinking about this match and as the time ticks away, the more I realize that the two of us are more alike than we realize. Think about it. In the eyes of the general wrestling public, we both tend to be overlooked by just about everyone. We’re both similar in size and in wrestling styles. Hell, neither one of us posses the same saccharine characteristic that is bound to give everyone within a five mile radius diabetes. Not like SOME people we know. But while we do share similar traits, everything else is as different as they come. One thing I’ve noticed about you since I arrived here in FGA is how incredibly insecure you appear to be. Honestly. You base your entire professional being on the fact that you are this supposedly indestructible and intimidating champion. Yet when I look at you, all I see is a scared little girl playing dressup to impress her imaginary friends. You cling to your Mid Atlantic Legacy championship like it is a life preserver, something to keep you safe at night. But here is the flaw in this fantasy world that you have created for yourself, Izzy. At the end of the day, you may not be willing to admit this out in the open, but you know your days as champion are numbered. You know that you stand a better chance of getting a death row inmate in Texas exonerated than you do of walking out of Hershey with your title still in tact.
For almost exactly nine months, fans and wrestlers alike have watched as you have taken what many feel is a meaningless and not cared for title and elevated it to a level no one has seen before. You took the Mid Atlantic Legacy championship and gave it a place of prestige here in FGA. I tip my hat to you and offer up this imaginary slow clap. It’s an accomplishment that few in this business can claim, so it’s no wonder that you feel as special as you do. Allow me to bring you back down to Earth. See, your lengthy title reign? The elevation of a “secondary” title into something special? It’s been done before. It’s been done before by yours truly. Now I will be the first to admit, now at least, that how I initially came into possession of a similar championship was under extremely shady circumstances. But no one can deny that what I did with that title was nothing short of amazing. I breathed life into a championship that before was passed around more times than the collection plate at church. No one could do anything to stop me. But you know what happened? Someone came along and put an end to my march into the depths of the history books. Was I mad? I honestly wasn’t because I wasn’t the better wrestler that night. To this day I have absolutely no shame in losing to a superior talent. The same thing that happened to me a smidge over a year ago is fixing to happen to you this Saturday. While I was willing to admit that I was bested, I can only IMAGINE what excuses your excuses will be when you lose your title. I just hope that while you are wallowing in the depths of your own misery and self pity that you remember one thing. I just want you to remember that throughout this whole ordeal, throughout this entire buildup to the match and the match itself…...I am not nor have I been the enemy.
That title is reserved for the OTHER person in this match.
Annie, Annie, Annie. I honestly don’t know where to begin with you this go around. Once again, FGA’s resident annoying superheroine gets her way and is now the third wheel in the match. Congratulations, Annie. Are you happy with yourself? I mean, can you sit back and look at yourself over the past couple of months and be satisfied with any of your actions? If you answered ‘Yes’ to that, do me a favor and find the nearest bridge and jump off of it. You are a goddamn liar if you answered yes. For someone who prides herself on being a bastion of hope and goodness, you sure have a funny way of showing it. If you don’t believe me, then kindly allow me to elaborate. You may want to make yourself comfortable and grab a snack because this will take a while.
Probably your biggest character flaw is that you are entirely too trusting. You automatically assume that just because someone looks at you or smiles at you or is a new face around the locker room that they are going to be your best friend. I tried to warn you when I signed with FGA. Hell, other people tried to warn you as well that I wasn’t to be trusted, yet you just kept on keeping on without a care in the world. People tried to tell you all about what I have done in the past and what I was capable of doing. Instead of heeding their advice and acting like an ADULT for once, you chose to play the part of an ostrich and bury your head in the sand. Don’t you feel foolish now? Are you kicking yourself for not listening to the advice of so many of your peers? Maybe next time that someone comes at you with advice disguised as a warning, you’ll actually take the time to listen and think about it. Probably not but hey, a girl can dream can’t she?
I guess part of my problem with you is that I just don’t get you. You are a mystery wrapped up in a riddle that is tucked inside of an enigma. On the outside, you project this image of cheeriness and hopefulness that gives the FGA faithful something to hope for. You are the consummate good girl. Yet on the inside lurks the girl in high school that would shove those branded to be different into lockers because they looked at her wrong. Inside lurks the spoiled Veruca Salt character who whines and cries until she gets her way. But that isn’t the Annie that you want people to see, is it? Oh no. You’d much rather show people who they THINK you are as opposed to who you REALLY are. You can’t really fool me and you can’t really fool Izzy. Even though we are on opposite sides of the ring, I think we can both agree that the sooner people see you for what you really are, the more interesting things will be. I guess for some people, they are drawn to your optimistic nature. I just don’t count myself among those people. I would rather surround myself with people who I know are projecting their true selves out there for the world to see. I would rather be around people who aren’t afraid to hide who they are to the world for fear that they might be rejected. Why do you think my “inner circle” in wrestling consists of only four people? You on the other hand are the girl who has millions of “friends” and “followers” on social media. I’m not here to win any popularity contests, and that certainly won’t happen against you, but something tells me that you need to take a closer look at those whom you call friends. Because I can tell you right now that people like Tony Carmine are NOT your friends. At the end of the day, the only person that Tony Carmine is really looking out for and only cares about……...is Tony Carmine. You need to wake up and drill this through your thick head. Otherwise you’ll end up brokenhearted, crying into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s while watching ‘Gilmore Girls’ on Netflix.
One of the main things that gets to me about you, and not in a good way, is how when anyone DARES to speak ill of Saint Annie of Starbucks, they are shunned. They are made out to be the bad guys while you get a free pass because everyone finds you to be soooooooo cute and adorable and wouldn’t even harm a fly. People also said the same thing about Norman Bates in ‘Psycho’ but that is a story for another date and time. It borderline sickens me how you are allowed to get away with murder just because you hold some supposed clout here in FGA. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you are allowed to say whatever you want. We all know how well you use your mouth. I have to laugh when someone comes at you and verbally puts you in your place. You honestly have no idea how to react. But just know that everything that anyone has ever said in opposition to you……….every bit of it is true. That is the toughest pill of all to swallow, isn’t it, Annie? But then again you haven’t seemed to have taken issue with swallowing anything before. But hey, what do I know?
Now is the time where you would post that meme of Kermit the Frog sipping his Lipton tea. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
I would like to sit here and tell you that I don’t hold grudges against people and that I believe in letting bygones be bygones. That would be lying though, and my mother always taught me that honesty is the best policy. Yes, I am still very much heated over your amazingly craptastic job as a referee. Who wouldn’t be after the person IN CHARGE of the match couldn’t see the obvious pin under her nose? I am very much heated over your blatant indifference over any shady dealings when it comes to me. I guess if it doesn’t directly involve you,then it really doesn’t matter, does it? Just remember one thing. Everything that happens this Saturday, you brought on yourself.
Auf Wiedersehen.
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Apr 4, 2016 22:35:17 GMT -5
Most Memorable Moment(s): A WILD CORDY STEVENSON APPEARS!! AND DAN TOO!
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Apr 3, 2016 10:45:05 GMT -5
Favorite Match(es): The Main event and Nox/Blood Brothers Favorite Segment(s): Aside from EVIL JIMMY PAGE....not much. Most Memorable Moment(s): A WILD CORDY STEVENSON APPEARS!! Wrestler(s) Of The Show: Blood Brothers, Johnny Karma & SSTC What Do You Think Happens Next: I have a feeling titles will change hands at the PPV, possibly some shockers in the Gold Rush Rumble, and things start to turn out VERY bad for Jimmy. Closing Thoughts: The general feeling (IN CHARACTER) to Jimmy Page....
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Feb 27, 2016 13:08:14 GMT -5
October 1993 Las Vegas, Nevada OFF CAMERA
When one thinks of the fall, images of brilliantly colored leaves, chilled air, hooded sweatshirts and pumpkin spice everything immediately come to mind. While this is true for most of the country, more specifically the New England region, the opposite is usually in play for the West Coast. The chill in the air was not found in Las Vegas, Nevada. Brilliant sunshine, perfect breezes and seventy degree temperatures were the norm. The beige one story house sat in a quiet neighborhood approximately ten minutes away from the hustle and bustle of the famed Las Vegas Strip. A neatly manicured lawn, equally manicured hedges and a well taken care of front flower bed give the appearance that the occupants care greatly about their home’s appearance in the neighborhood. Inside of the kitchen, five year old Savannah Taylor sat at the kitchen table, thoroughly engrossed in consuming the chocolate chip cooking that sat on a plate in front of her. Her golden blonde locks were plated into two braids that hung down just past her shoulders. The cartoon faces of Aladdin, Princess Jasmine and The Genie beam out from the front of her tiny royal blue t shirt. Black leggings and pink socks act as complements to the Disney shirt. Seated on the chair next to her is a brown teddy bear with a red bow around its neck, a bear that Savannah was attempting to feed a cookie to. At the sink, Savannah’s grandmother, Genevieve, turns around to glance at her granddaughter.
Genevieve Taylor: Honey, what are you doing?
Savannah Taylor: Mr. Tuffy was hungry, Grandma.
Genevieve smiles as she takes a glass and fills it halfway with the carton of milk she had taken from the refrigerator. Placing it back in the fridge, she shuts the door and places the glass in front of Savannah.
Genevieve Taylor: I don’t think bears like cookies.
Savannah Taylor: Not like COOKIES?!
To a five year old, the thought of not liking the most delicious of snacks was unheard of. Her grandmother laughed to herself looking at Savannah’s aghast expression.
Genevieve Taylor: Why don’t we look that subject up later, okay? Halloween is next week. Are you excited?
Savannah Taylor: Yes!!
The five year old squeals with excitement at the prospect of a candy filled evening in one week. In reality, who wouldn’t get excited about that?
Savannah Taylor: I need my costume though, Grandma.
Genevieve Taylor: We’re going to have to go shopping after school tomorrow, aren’t we?
Savannah Taylor: Uh huh!
Genevieve Taylor: Do you have any idea what you want to be?
Savannah scrunched up her face as she thought over the question. It didn’t take long for the youngster to come up with an answer.
Savannah Taylor: Cinderella! Nobody in my class is going to be her.
Genevieve Taylor: Well that sounds like a good reason to be her then.
Savannah Taylor: When are we going?
Genevieve Taylor: As soon as Grandma gets you off of the bus.
Savannah Taylor: Yay! Can we get a Happy Meal too?
Genevieve Taylor: We’ll see how you are after school.
Savannah Taylor: Pleeeeeasssseeeeeee?
She folds her hands underneath her chin and flutters her eyelashes at her grandmother, her blue eyes almost pleading to be allowed her favorite chicken nugget Happy Meal.
Genevieve Taylor: Now how can I say no to that face?
Savannah Taylor: YES!
Her little fists pump in the air in victory as her grandmother just sits back and laughs. Even as her guardian and caretaker, someone who was supposed to be an authority in Savannah’s life, Genevieve found it hard to resist her granddaughter’s angelic face and gorgeous blue eyes.
Genevieve Taylor: But you have to be good in school, you hear?
Savannah Taylor: I promise!
Savannah goes back to nibbling on her cookie as she takes a sip of milk, being careful not to spill anything on her favorite Aladdin shirt. She goes to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, then remembers the promise of a Happy Meal tomorrow and reaches for her napkin instead. Even though the prospect of shopping with her grandma was an enjoyable one, there was a feeling within the five year old that something was missing. She takes another bite of her cookie and chews as she looks at her grandmother.
Savannah Taylor: Grandma?
Genevieve is taken slightly aback by the tone in which her normally bubbly and enthusiastic granddaughter went about engaging with others.
Genevieve Taylor: What is it, sweetie?
Savannah Taylor: Where did Mommy go?
Genevieve had to place her hands on the table in front of her to brace herself. She wasn't entirely too surprised that Savannah’s curiosity would lead her to wonder where her mother was. Still, broaching a sensitive subject with an innocent child would prove to be no easy task.
Genevieve Taylor: Well, you see…...let me ask you a question. Do you know what a jail is?
Savannah Taylor: Is that where the policemen take the bad guys and lock them away?
Genevieve Taylor: It is. What happened was your mommy had something that wasn’t hers but the police were confused and thought it was, so they took her with them.
Genevieve hoped that was a delicate enough response for what went on just before Savannah’s birthday last month. No child should have to go through any time away from their mother or father, which is a fact that made this slightly more heartbreaking for Genevieve. How does she give her granddaughter some form of reassurance that her mother would be back soon? How can one give assurances about the unknown? Savannah looks down at the table, then back at her grandmother, her eyes wavering a bit.
Savannah Taylor: Does that mean Mommy is a bad guy? Is that why she isn’t here?
Genevieve Taylor: Oh honey….
Genevieve reaches across the table and places her hand on top of Savannah’s.
Genevieve Taylor: Your mommy loves you very much. Your daddy is working to get mommy back here with you. She isn’t a bad person.
Savannah Taylor: So she didn’t leave because she didn’t want to play with me anymore?
Genevieve Taylor: No sweetie. That isn’t it at all.
Savannah nods slowly as she finishes the last bite of her cookie. Genevieve sits back and watches her granddaughter intently. She couldn’t possibly imagine how an innocent five year old could grasp the fact that her mommy wasn’t coming home for a while. Then again, Savannah had always been a bright child, always curious and always loving to learn as much as she could. Kindergarten this year was proving to be one of the best things to have happened to the youngster. A sharp rap on her front door shakes Genevieve out of her reverie as she stands up and heads to the door. Standing on the opposite side was a middle aged woman with shortly cropped black hair, wire rim glasses and a sharp black suit with a white button down shirt. Standing behind her was a fairly tall, decently built Clark County Sheriff's deputy.
Genevieve Taylor: May I help you?
The woman shifts a black folder in her arms as she clears her throat.
Michaela James: Mrs. Taylor? My name is Michaela James with the Nevada Department of Child Welfare. This is Deputy Sanders with the Clark County Sheriff's Department. May we come in?
Genevieve stands back and allows Michaela and the deputy inside.
Genevieve Taylor: What is this about?
Michaela James: My office has received a couple of anonymous tips about child endangerment and potential abuse of a minor.
Aghast would be the best way to describe Genevieve’s facial expression when she heard Michaela’s words leave her mouth.
Genevieve Taylor: Excuse me? I would never harm my granddaughter or let anyone hurt her in any way, shape, or form.
Michaela James: My office has reports from a couple of witnesses who have seen you be verbally abusive in public places as well as grabbing her arm and legs on more than one occasion.
Genevieve Taylor: I never laid a finger on Savannah.
For her part, Savannah had remained quiet while the two unfamiliar people talked with her grandmother. She could see that her grandmother was not looking very happy.
Savannah Taylor: Grandma?
Genevieve looks at her granddaughter with a pained expression on her face.
Genevieve Taylor: Grandma is okay, sweetheart.
Michaela James: Mrs. Taylor, we have enough evidence to believe that Savannah is not safe to remain in your care.
Genevieve Taylor: What?!?
Michaela James: We will discuss this downtown. Deputy Sanders will escort you there himself.
The deputy steps out of the shadows and places his hands on Genevieve’s shoulders.
Deputy Sanders: Mrs. Taylor, would you turn around please?
Genevieve Taylor: Am i being arrested? I didn’t do anything!
Pained tears began to glisten in her eyes as the deputy turned her around, reaching for the shiny silver handcuffs. Deputy Sanders guides her arms behind her back as he begins to place the cool metal “bracelets” on her wrists.
Deputy Sanders: Genevieve Taylor, you are being placed under arrest for endangering the welfare of a child and abuse of a minor. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, the court will provide one for you. Do you understand these rights?
Genevieve can only nod her head slightly as Deputy Sanders begins to escort her from the house.
Michaela James: Given the fact that her parents are not viable options at this time, we will be ensuring that Savannah is placed in a safe environment until a more stable, potentially permanent option is available.
Michaela turns her attention to Savannah, who has witnessed the entire ordeal. Clutching her beloved Mr. Tuffy to her chest, her eyes threaten to brim over with tears.
Savannah Taylor: Where is Grandma going?
Michaela James: Your Grandma is going with the nice deputy for a ride downtown.
Savannah Taylor: NO! I want Grandma!!
The tears were now spilling down her cheeks as she buried her face into the soft fur of her bear. Michaela stoops down to Savannah’s level and places a hand on her knee, a maneuver that is supposed to be a reassuring gesture. Not for the now shell-shocked five year old.
Michaela James: Hey, will you do me a favor? Help me get some of your clothes, books, toys, anything together.
Savannah Taylor: Why?
Michaela James: Because you, little one, are going to go on a trip.
Savannah Taylor: To see Grandma?
Michaela James: I’m afraid not.
Savannah Taylor: Then I don’t wanna go! I WANT GRANDMA!
The tot slides off of the chair, still clutching her bear, and runs past Michaela and down the hall to the room that had been made up for her. It didn’t make sense for Savannah. Just minutes ago, her grandmother was telling her that only the bad people were taken away by the policemen and that her mother wasn’t a bad person because she was sitting in jail. Now what was she to believe? She didn’t know it yet, but this would be the last time that she would set foot inside her grandmother’s house. There would be no trip to the store to pick out her Cinderella costume. There would be no McDonald’s Happy Meal with the precious toy inside. There wouldn’t even be a Halloween for her this year. All that would be certain was that her life would never be the same again. Her life was forever changed this day. But at five years old, Savannah didn’t realize this. She had been through a traumatic event and would need time to adjust to this Earth shattering change in her life. The only problem is, she might never fully adjust. That was a fact that would remain to be seen.
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Feb 21, 2016 8:50:02 GMT -5
Favorite Match(es): Cyncity and Zero. 'nuff said.
Favorite Segment(s): Aries Reed
Most Memorable Moment(s): Cyncity winning
Wrestler(s) Of The Show: Cyncity and Fujiko.
What Do You Think Happens Next: I'm not quite sure, but I can't wait to find out.
Closing Thoughts: Such an good show from beginning to end. I can't remember the last time I was actually excited to read results when they came out. So happy to be part of this place!
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Feb 18, 2016 19:21:08 GMT -5
Wednesday, February 17th, 2016 Hard Rock Cafe Las Vegas, Nevada OFF CAMERA
Known the world over as a place for casual dining in an upbeat atmosphere, the popular Las Vegas branch of the Hard Rock Cafe was fairly busy for a Wednesday afternoon. The usual lunch crowd was still trickling in, hoping to get a taste of the casual fare the Cafe was famous for. As the waitstaff bustled about between the rapidly filling up tables and booths, a pair of patrons are already sitting back in a corner booth enjoying their appetizer. The older of the two diners is one of the city’s favorite daughters, Savannah taylor. Seated across from her is her seventeen year old sister Harper. Savannah carefully takes a tortilla chip from the mountainous plate of nachos in the center of the table and takes a bite, trying not to drop any of the toppings on the table or on her. Harper takes a sip of her soda and wipes the corner of her mouth with her napkin.
Harper Taylor: Thanks for taking me to lunch, Savannah.
Savannah Taylor: You’re more than welcome. I figure, given everything that is going on, you could use a day just to do whatever.
Harper Taylor: You can say that again.
She says with a wistful sigh. Their mother’s illness was hard on both of them, but for the younger Harper, she was taking this harder than one could imagine. Going through her senior year of high school, a year that is stressful enough, with the thought that her mother could take a turn for the worse and end up passing away, it was a miracle the younger of the two sisters was keeping it together as well as she was. Savannah glanced at her sister, her blue eyes focused on her facial expression and overall body language. She could see that the facade was beginning to crack.
Savannah Taylor: Is everything okay?
Harper Taylor: Why do you say that?
Savannah Taylor: Because your eyes are telling a different story.
Harper sighs.
Harper Taylor: Dammit.
Savannah Taylor: So, out with it. What is on your mind?
Harper Taylor: Well, you see, there is this guy in one of my classes. We;ve been friends since grade school. The thing is, I’ve kind of grown to like him.
Savannah Taylor: What level of “like” are you talking about?
Harper Taylor: Like like.
Savannah Taylor: Gotcha. And does he feel the same way?
Harper Taylor: I don’t know. I haven’t really told him.
Savannah sighs slightly as she leans back in the booth.
Savannah Taylor: You need to tell him as soon as possible.
Harper Taylor: I’m kind of nervous though.
Savannah Taylor: That is typical. It means that you really like-like this guy. But trust me when I say you need to tell him as soon as you can. Because the longer you take, the more likely it becomes that things could go South and you are left wondering just what happened that caused to drift away from each other. It’s better to be honest with both him and yourself than to have to walk around with the regret of not telling him.
Harper ponders her sister’s words as Savannah takes a long sip of her water. To say that she had some experience in this subject matter would be a vast understatement. Things have worked themselves out in that aspect of her life, but it took Savannah a while to come to grips with her lack of action.
Harper Taylor: Has that ever happened to you?
Savannah Taylor: It has.
Harper Taylor: What happened? I mean, did you eventually come to terms with your choice?
Savannah Taylor: Somehow by the grace of God, a second chance came my way. I did end up getting everything out in the open and I have never felt better about it.
Harper Taylor: You do seem happier than I remember, happier than when I first ran into you over the summer.
Savannah Taylor: Oh trust me, I am.
She says with a genuine smile, feeling her cheeks start to flush with crimson. For the first time, her personal and professional lives were meshing well together. She still wants to know just what she did to deserve such a bright spot in her life, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Harper Taylor: He sounds like quite the guy.
Savannah Taylor: He’s the best thing that has happened to me in a long while.
Harper Taylor: I think…...I think I’m going to tell him tomorrow. A bunch of friends and I are going to hang out tomorrow and he’s going to be there.
Savannah Taylor: Just do me a favor. If it end up happening, send me a text. I’m heading out of the country early tomorrow morning.
Harper Taylor: That's right, you’ve got the pay per view Saturday. I can’t wait to see your match with Annie.
Savannah Taylor: She’s a good kid and her heart is often in the right place. She just has a habit of speaking before thinking is all. I’ve seen her get into it with people on social media because of her overly curious nature. But honestly, she’s good people. She reminds me a lot of you.
Harper Taylor: Really?
Savannah Taylor: You both have a positive outlook on things. You both are genuine and good people whom others love.
Harper can only smile as she hears her sister’s assessment. She doesn’t get a chance to respond as the waitress comes back to their table to take their meal orders. The waitress scribbles down the orders on her notepad and scurries off towards the kitchen. Harper takes another sip of her drink as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
Harper Taylor: I never knew that. She seems like someone I’d get along with if we were to ever meet up.
Savannah Taylor: If the FGA ever comes back to Las Vegas or the surrounding areas, we can arrange that.
Harper Taylor: Really? that would be amazing! I knew there was a reason I looked up to you.
Savannah was in the middle of a drink of her water when she heard her sister say that. She places the glass down on the coaster with a slight thud as she swallows the water in her mouth, trying to hide her obvious shock and surprise.
Savannah Taylor: Come again?
Harper Taylor: What? Did I say something wrong?
Savannah Taylor: No no, it’s just………..you really look up to me?
Harper Taylor: Well, yeah. You’re a confident, beautiful and driven woman. You’ve got all the qualities that someone should hope to reach one day. Not to mention you’re my sister. Why wouldn’t people look up to you?
Savannah Taylor: Why? Because I am not that good of a person. I’m just a partially broken person who has done some pretty deplorable things in my life and career. No matter how much I can try otherwise, people are always going to judge me based on what I’ve done in the past. People don’t care that I’ve tried or am trying to move past everything. They just have this one ideal in their head and they sink their teeth into it like a dog biting a bone. Besides, outside of you, Mom and Dad, I only care about what three, possibly four other people think.
Harper Taylor: I still think you are a good person.
Savannah Taylor: Well, thank you. That means a lot to me to hear someone say that.
Harper Taylor: Anytime. I still can’t wait to see you kick some butt Saturday night.
Savannah Taylor: Annie is tough and has hung with the best of them. But…..she’s never faced me before.
Savannah says with a grin as she reaches for another nacho. The time spent bonding with her sister was special to Savannah. She wanted to make sure that her sister had as relatively normal a time as possible. Going out to lunch, shopping and just bonding seemed like simple things, but for someone like Savannah, it was time well spent. It was time she could use to escape the world for a while and to have to worry about her impending match in Toronto with Annie Zellor. She knew facing Annie was going to be a tough task. But like the old saying went, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. With everything that Savannah has gone through thus far, people had better watch their backs because she was about as strong as they came. That would eventually spell trouble for those that stood against her.
“You cheated.”
“How could you be happy with winning that way?”
“Cheating in a tag team match isn’t right, you know.”
Do you honestly have any idea how many times I have heard that and variations on those themes in the past two weeks? Here is a hint……...a lot. People are irritated with me. People are upset with me. People aren’t happy with me. Guess what? People haven’t been happy with me in one way or another in this business for the past two or so years. That isn’t a trend that is going to stop anytime soon. For whatever reason, people seem to want to make me the scapegoat. They are unhappy with whatever problem they have or whatever is going wrong in their current company, and they find a reason to pin it on me. That is one thing about this business that has jaded me a bit. No matter what I do or no matter what i say, it is never good enough for people. It is never going to be good enough or is going to matter because people are going to believe whatever they want and to hell with differing opinions.
Thank you for being different, Annie.
Thank you for being one of the people who actually made me feel welcome me when I first joined FGA. You knew what I’ve done in the past and yet you went out of your way to be nice to me. For having ever really met me outside of spending time on the beach in Miami last year, you proved to be a genuine and good person. Those are a rare commodity nowadays. I honestly don’t know what I did to earn the title of your friend, but I’m taking it and running with it.
I just hope you don’t expect me to be as cordial to you on Saturday night as I am being right now.
You should know by now that when I step into the ring, I have no friends. I have no acquaintances. I am there to do my job and do it exceedingly well. Will we be friends before the bell rings? Of course we will. Will we remain friends after the match is all over? I don’t see why we can’t. Just know that as soon as my feet enter the arena to begin getting ready for our match, you are no friend of mine. Don’t expect me to come find you backstage for one last pre-match pep talk. Don’t expect me to text or tweet you. I want nothing to distract me from getting ready for a match of this level of importance. I know to the untrained eye or the people who write for the wrestling dirt sheets that this is a throwaway match. They say this match shouldn’t get the hype that is it. Do you want to know what I say to that? Bullshit. They don’t know that EVERY match, regardless of it’s place on the card, is important. They don’t know the kind of pressure people put on themselves to make sure the people don’t go away disappointed or not having received their money's worth.
They also don’t know what kind of pressure out match presents, Annie. We have probably the most under-pressure match not named Zero McHannon and Cindy Parker. Oh, you don’t believe me? Allow me to elaborate. The fact that our match is opening the show is something of a confidence booster. It shows that FGA management has enough faith in it’s former two time tag team champion and a relative newcomer to put on a one of a kind match. Think about it. The first ever meeting between Annie and Savannah. The former two time FGA World Tag Team champion and the last ever EXODUS World Heavyweight champion. The hype and the headlines just seem to write themselves. But the fact that we are tasked with opening the show and the fact that it is up to US to set the tone for the rest of the evening……...it is a lot of pressure to put on two people. I’ve seen how you perform under pressure, Annie, and I must say you do an admirable job.
You just aren’t on my level yet.
You want pressure? Pressure is going into a match against someone who is twice your size in both height and weight and being tasked with taking his championship from him. It is putting on a clinic with said person in front of my hometown fans, my Las Vegas crew, and delivering on my promise. Pressure is heading into the biggest event of the calendar year for my former company and wrestling a true class act and should-have-been first ballot Hall of Famer in a thirty five minute classic. Pressure is finding out just minutes after that match that you are going to be thrown into the main event for the World title. Not only did that happen, but I now have the title belt back home to prove it. I know this isn’t the kind of pressure that Cindy and Zero, or even Noelle and Tony are under, but it is pressure just the same. It is said that with the right amount of pressure, a lump of coal is transformed into a dazzling diamond. From the looks of it, there is going to be more than one diamond emerging from the fire Saturday night in Toronto.
I’ve seen tapes of you you have fared against other former World champions and I have to say that there is some definite room for improvement. You’ve won some, but it looks like you’ve lost more of those than you’ve won. That is something of a damn shame. I mean, if you are looking to make a name for yourself in any company, you target the top dog. You target the guy or girl at the top. Unfortunately for you Annie, the big downfall in all of this for you has been your mouth. You have talked your way into some pretty hairy situations. You can talk the best game of your life all you want to someone. You can hype yourself up to being the one that everyone should look out for. But if you can’t back it up, like I have seen you do time and time again, you are just going to be left standing in the middle of the ring with egg on your face. Can’t wait to see which Annie Zellor shows up Saturday night.
It may seem like I’ve got a lot on my mind. It may seem like I am just sitting here and lashing out at you for no apparent reason. Maybe it's because there are certain things that are going on in my family life that have left me a bit frazzled. Maybe it’s because I’m going to be on regular pay-per-view instead of internet pay per views, so I have to perform at a higher standard. Or maybe it's because I have yet to really get much of an apology for your blatant inadequacies as a referee. Oh don’t think I have forgotten about that match, Annie. I never forget people who, intentionally or not, do wrong by me. That was a big wrong, Annie. Like I’ve said before, you are a great person and I have no issues with you outside of that one. You just need to prepare yourself because what is about to come at you is something much different than you have faced before. I knew what I was getting into when I signed my FGA contract. I knew I was going to be thrown to the wolves when it came to the best competition on the planet. It is something I’m not only ready for, but am looking forward to. It all starts with you, Annie. It all starts with you and me opening Canadian Stampede in front of a sure-to-be ravenous Toronto crowd. Just please do me one favor though, just one simple favor. Before the bell rings and we are staring at each other across the ring, take a good look into these blue eyes. I want you to remember the look on my face and the glint in my eyes because as God as my witness, that will be the last thing you will remember seeing before all hell breaks loose. But good luck all the same, Annie. Some may need it more than others.
Auf Wiedersehen.
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Feb 18, 2016 16:36:26 GMT -5
My pick? Our glorious overlord Katsuyori Shibata
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Feb 4, 2016 11:19:40 GMT -5
Wednesday, Feburary 3rd, 2016 Las Vegas, Nevada OFF CAMERA
Drip…. Drip…. Drip….
The steady drip of the clear liquid coming from the sturdy plastic IV bag can be faintly heard in the small, yet oddly welcoming room. The Central Valley location of the Comprehensive Cancer Centers of Nevada prided itself on the various procedures and treatments it offers to patients all over the Southern Nevada region. From radiation to chemotherapy to nutritional services, the Center is designed to make the patient’s road to recovery a little easier, and to provide the family members of said patients a wide variety of support as they travel an often difficult road with their family members. One such patient was currently seated in a well cushioned chair, her right arm elevated with the plastic tube of the IV attached to the needle that was currently inserted into her arm. Pulled up next to her chair is another chair. Perched upon this chair, clad in dark blue fitted denim jeans, a red and black three quarter sleeve t-shirt, the woman is none other than wrestling star Savannah Taylor. Cocking her head ever so slightly to one side, she regards the woman in the other chair, her mother Carla.
To say that things had been anything less than tumultuous would be an understatement. It wasn’t too long ago that Savannah was reunited with her family and learned of her mother’s diagnosis. She has made every effort to not just get to know her family again but to be there for her mother as she goes through treatment. Even at a time when Savannah felt that nothing was going right within her life, both professionally and personally, she could always try and be there for the woman who brought her into this world. Towards the end of October, right around the time when things began to spiral out of control out West, Savannah’s mother had learned through more testing that the Stage Two cancer she had initially been diagnosed with was actually Stage Three. This wasn’t something that Savannah was taking very well, but she stuffed down her feelings of fright and anxiety to continue to be however much of a support to her mother as she could be. But deep down, she was about as scared as one could imagine. Shaking her head at the memories, Savannah clears her throat.
Savannah Taylor: How much longer do you have?
Carla Taylor: The doctor said about another hour or so.
She glances down at the IV in her arm, then back at her daughter.
Carla Taylor: You know, you didn’t have to come here with me. Your father could have easily come instead.
The look Savannah threw her mother was one of near disbelief.
Savannah Taylor: Really Mom? Why wouldn’t I be here?
Carla Taylor: I know you’ve got your commitments out East and all….
Savannah holds her hand up to cut her mother off.
Savannah Taylor: But nothing, Mom. I told you over the summer that things were going to change and that this was going to be a fresh start for all of us. That includes being there through the good and the bad.
Savannah looks at her mother with a fierce determination, which almost seemed like a disguise. The rigid treatments of chemotherapy and radiation therapy had left her mother looking like a shell of her former self. Her golden locks, a trademark that Savannah most definitely inherited from her, had begun to fall out. Her blue eyes, the same shade of brilliant cerulean that her daughter proudly displays, had begun to lose their sparkle and luster. The amount of weight she had lost as a result of treatments wasn’t particularly alarming, but it was noticeable. The often proud and cocky wrestler, the woman people just seemed to love to despise, was left feeling helpless. She wanted to do more for her mother, but she couldn’t. This was the second person that she loves that she was unable to be more of a help to, and that stung a bit. She would give any and everything to do more. But right now, the best she could give was her love and support.
Carla Taylor: Well, I thank you. It means more than you possibly realize. So tell me, how does it feel being back on the road full time?
Savannah Taylor: You mean actually getting to be in more places than just out in California? It is amazing. Not only just the United States, but other places in the world too. I think for the first time in God only knows how long, I’m finally starting to enjoy my chosen profession.
Carla Taylor: That is excellent, honey.
Savannah Taylor: Thanks.
She replies, mustering up as much excitement as she can manage. It is something that doesn’t go completely unnoticed by her mother.
Carla Taylor: What’s wrong?
Savannah Taylor: It’s nothing, really.
Carla Taylor: Savannah Julianne….
No matter how old a person may be, hearing one of your parents call you by both your first and middle names was enough to freeze you and make you backtrack a bit, anything to avoid both names being dropped again.
Savannah Taylor: It’s just that, I’m frustrated. Not with the fact that I’m working in two completely new companies, but I’m just frustrated with myself. I honestly had these hopes, however foolish they may seem, that I was going to start over in a new place and pick up right where I left off, on the winning side of things. A lot of good I did there.
Carla Taylor: I know your first two matches in FGA haven’t gone the way you wanted, but you can’t beat yourself up over it.
Savannah Taylor: The first match, I lose because my opponent felt the need to grab my tights to get the win. Then two weeks ago, I had the match won. I had it pretty much on lock. What happened? Annie Zellor, who I might add was a guest referee, was distracted by the fans at ringside. Why was she? I have no idea. All I know is she dropped the ball on the officiating end and here I sit with another loss on my record.
Carla Taylor: Have you tried talking to Annie about what happened? Maybe there is a legitimate reason for what happened. It could be an honest mistake.
Savannah Taylor: She’s tried to reach out, but I haven’t really said too much to her since the match.
Carla Taylor: Don’t you think it would be a good idea if you tried to see if you could have a face to face with her? Maybe try to get her side of things.
Savannah Taylor: When I get to New York and when she gets to New York, I’ll see what I can arrange. I will give her credit though. She’s about as persistent and stubborn as my sister is.
Savannah says with a soft laugh. She could see almost right away the comparisons between Annie Zellor and Savannah’s seventeen year old sister Harper, and it was almost uncanny. Their eternally optimistic streak was both their biggest attribute and, to an extent, their biggest flaw. Savannah sinks back in her chair and lets out an audible sigh.
Carla Taylor: What’s wrong?
Savannah Taylor: Sometimes I just wish I could be more to people. I wish I could be more than what they think I am. I can’t change how the majority of people perceive me to be, and that is something I’ve long since accepted, albeit begrudgingly. But almost every time something positive happens, my inner doubt creeps in and messes with my head. The biggest thought going through my head is….what if? What if I’m not nearly as good as people make me out to be? What if I’m proving people right when they call me no good?
The tone of voice in which Savannah was speaking would come as a complete shock to those that she worked with in the wrestling business. She felt her mother clasp her free hand over hers and look up at her with the kind of look that only a mother can give. The kind of look that tells people that she means whatever it is she is about to say, so it would be wise to pay close attention.
Carla Taylor: Savannah, listen to me. You need to realize something, and forgive me because my knowledge of the business you are in isn’t the greatest. But you need to realize that you wouldn’t be at the level that you are if you weren’t talented. You wouldn’t have accomplished all that you have if it wasn’t for the fact that you are one of the most talented people out there. If you weren’t as good as those that believe in you say you are, you wouldn’t have walked out of San Diego with the World Heavyweight championship. You wouldn’t have two of the top promotions wanting you within your ranks. Yes I know it sounds like I have to say this because I’m your mother and I love you. But I’m surely not the only one who sees it like this. You have to believe me.
It was solid as hell advice that resonated with Savannah as she listens to her mother’s impassioned speech. She was right though. Savannah knew deep within that she was good, damn good in fact. Losses, even those under dubious circumstances, were all part of the game; they were all facts of this crazy wrestling life.
Savannah Taylor: Thank you, Mom. I needed to hear that. You’re the second person who has told me that they believe in me. It’s kind of nice to know that I have people who believe in me and are supportive of me. I only wish I could do more for you guys.
Carla Taylor: Honey, trust me. The fact that you are here with me means more than you think. Sometimes just giving your time to someone makes all the difference in the world. I know this and I am more than willing to bet he does as well.
She says as she laughs at Savannah’s cocked eyebrow.
Carla Taylor: I’m not unaware of certain things, Savannah. I can tell just where your heart truly is.
Savannah Taylor: Well, yeah you’re right.
Carla Taylor: My original statement still stands. Just giving someone your time and showing that you care makes all the difference in the world.
Savannah Taylor: Just like someone saying that I’m better than I probably realize.
Carla Taylor: Exactly.
The mother and daughter both shared a smile as their conversation continued. It was the type of pep talk that Savannah didn’t know she needed to hear, but was extremely glad that she did. While she wasn’t too thrilled about what happened during her match with Salem on the last Vertigo, she knew that Annie would hopefully give her an explanation that made sense. She wanted an answer, an honest answer from Annie, and she knew she was going to get it. Annie wasn’t the type of person who would beat around the bush about this kind of stuff. She took her job seriously and seemed to take what people said about her to heart, despite the fact that she tried to hide it. Maybe Annie and Savannah weren’t as opposite as people would be led to believe. Maybe this would prove to work to their advantage when it came time for their all-important tag team match. Maybe Savannah’s luck would finally begin to turn around. One could only hope.
I will be the first to admit that humility has never been one of my strongest attributes. Whenever I’m dealt with a setback or come off of a loss, showing humility is the last thing I want to do. That being said please allow me to show a little bit of this humility that people talk about.
Congratulations, Salem. Congratulations on what I’m sure will be looked upon as a hard fought and well-earned victory for you. You are every bit as talented as the woman I saw in the Young Guns Cup. You are every bit as talented as what people were telling me and what I saw from watching tapes of you. It must warn your witchy little heart to know you were able to actually earn a win against a former World champion. But the question remains, did you REALLY earn that or did you have some form of help?
Something, something questionable officiating.
Speaking of said questionable officiating, I do have a question, and it is one that has been bugging me for nearly two weeks now. What were you thinking, Annie? What in the world was going through your mind during my match two weeks ago? What could have possibly been more important than actually doing your job to the fullest extent of the description? Was the local Starbucks about to close for the night and you were contemplating how long it would take you to run there and grab your favorite drink? Did one of the fans in the front row say something derogatory about Crystal Palace? You’ve had damn near two weeks to give me an answer. Have I received one? Nope. Am I still upset about what happened? What do you think? But any lingering anger or feelings of ill will is my cross to bear, not yours. In short? It is water under the bridge.
I’m actually looking forward to being able to team with you this Saturday. Who WOULDN’T be excited about the prospect of teaming with a former two time tag team champion? I know it may not seem like it, but I am looking forward to this match with you as my partner. I know you are aware of the fact that the exact number of people within this industry that I can actually trust is counted on one hand. People look at you and want to protect you like the precious cinnamon roll that they feel you are. People look at me and basically tell me to fend for myself. You are the Hufflepuff and I am the Slytherin, two very unique and different entities all working together under the same umbrella and the same company. I could give you every single reason known to man not to trust me. I could tell you that I am a bad person and that you would be better off turning around and finding someone else. But I’m not going to do that. What I am going to do is tell you that you can trust me. Together, we’ll show everyone what teamwork can accomplish.
Fancy meeting you here again, Salem. While I appreciate the fact that you said I am owed a rematch against you, I highly doubt this was what either of us had in mind. But we might as well make the best of things, right? Unfortunately the best isn’t going to be enough for you, not this go around. You see, while I could sit here and harp on the fact that the only reason you were able to beat me two weeks ago was due to some dubious officiating, I’m not going to do that. Nor am I going to harp on the fact that we both find ourselves teaming up with our respective Canadian Stampede opponents. Teaming with opponents is absolutely nothing new to me, so strike that one off of the list. In the days since our singles match, I’ve gone back and studied that at least a dozen or so times. Each time I watch it, I look for that one thing, that one particular flaw that spelled my downfall. Aside from the glaringly obvious, do you want to know what I saw?
Nothing. I saw nothing.
While it may seem hard for you to imagine that there was nothing that I could find wrong with my strategy, believe me when I say I found nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Goose egg. Is this an arrogant thought process on my part? Perhaps. But then again, when have I been called anything BUT arrogant? Wait, let me rephrase that. When have I been called anything but arrogant by someone who DOESN’T have an axe to grind with me? I don’t care what you call me, Salem. I don’t care if you call me every name in the book or threaten me with bodily harm. I’m a grown woman who can take it. But what I do care about, probably more than anything heading into this match, is proving two things. Number one is the fact that my no-flaws theory was correct. Number two is proving that you are incapable of beating me without some form of outside help. You want to beat me again. You want to look at me across the ring and punch me square in my gorgeous face. Do yourself a favor and get in line behind everyone else that seems to have an issue with me. Hell, I will even personally sell you a ticket to wait in line. It isn’t changing a thing about this match, Salem. It isn’t changing the fact that you and Izzy won’t stand a chance against me and Annie. Not a bloody chance in hell.
Speaking of your partner, I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance yet. I’ve heard an awful lot about you, Izzy. Some of it good, some of it bad and most of it has left me scratching my head. I’m wondering just how someone who seems to have her entire career ahead of her can turn into such a whining, spiteful and jealous little girl. Oh don’t think I haven’t noticed, Izzy. See, before I signed with FGA full time, I paid attention while I was still employed elsewhere. I kept up with the product because it allowed me to be a fan for once. I kept up with it for other reasons, but that is a story for another date and time. What I saw when I was watching you was I saw what it looks like for someone to be in the throes of a breakdown and not even realize it. So what happened exactly? Did you wake up one morning and decide “Hey, I’m tired of being looked at as a goody goody. I’m going to go completely off the deep end.” Or was it your endless pursuit of ending the career of Dom Harter that finally drove you off the deep end? While it genuinely seems like a noble cause, Dom Harter isn’t worth the time spent on a therapist’s couch or in a padded cell. Another thing that I’ve noticed about you Izzy is that you seem to have become bitten and bitten quite hard by the little bug known as jealousy. You seem to be EXTREMELY jealous of anyone who has ever had a better career here in FGA than you. This honestly is about ninety percent of the roster. It must drive you up the wall to the point of insomnia to see wrestler after wrestler come through the doors and seemingly blow right past you in terms of talent and success. Let’s not get into your internal temper tantrum when it came to how the awards went down. I loved watching you turn into a petulant child after you lost Newcomer of the Year to Zero McHannon. I’ve known and worked with Zero longer than you have. While I am FAR from his biggest fan, not in the slightest, he does know how to make an impact. So it looks like all of your little tirades and all of your campaigning was a lost cause after all, wasn’t it? Hell, I could even talk about awards that I’ve won and the recognition that I’ve received, but I don’t want to force you further down the rabbit hole. Or maybe I do, I’m not quite sure.
By the way, from one woman to another, I have something important to tell you. Green really isn’t your color. Not only does it do nothing for your skin tone, but it makes you look fat as well. Just some food for thought.
You probably think you have me figured out, don’t you Izzy? You view me as nothing more than a newcomer to FGA who is looking to make a name for her at your expense. That is only partially true. I AM looking to make a name for myself in this business once again. If you were half the champion, hell, half the WRESTLER that you make yourself out to be, then you would have done all the homework that you possibly could about me. You would have found out that I am no pushover. You would have discovered that underneath this amazing exterior that has graced the cover of Maxim Magazine twice and graced even more fantasies of both men and women alike, there lies a hidden talent that few have seen unleashed. I’ve put on clinics with the best of them. When people told me I couldn’t do it, I made one of wrestling’s best kept secrets tap out in the middle of the ring. Don’t believe me? Look up the name Sally Talfourd on Google and look at her match history. When you get to the section of noted names who have faced off, I guarantee you that you will find my name there. I could go on and on about my borderline blood feud with Justin Brooks that defined much of last year, but all I will tell you is to look up what you can on Google. My whole point is Izzy, anything you can throw at me not only will I dodge it, but I will come back at you with twice as much and with twice as much force. I dare you to try me on Saturday.
Ladies, I don’t care what both of you do to each other before or after the match. All I really care about is whether or not you two will be able to shove aside whatever feelings you may have towards each other or towards myself and Annie long enough to show up and put on an instant classic. Just let me give you a little warning. Everything you do to get ready for this match will wind up being for nothing. Regardless of whatever is going on with Annie and myself, we are both professional enough to put that aside and combine our forces to walk out of White Plains the victors. But good luck all the same ladies. God knows you’ll need it more than I will.
Auf Wiedersehen.
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Jan 30, 2016 12:04:36 GMT -5
(OOC- This is providing some backgound on not only the idea I have for my upcoming RP this week, but also on Savannah as well. I wrote this RP fora match back in September. For those who want to read the entire thing, promo included, just hit me up on Twitter!)
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Saturday, July 25th, 2015 University Medical Center Las Vegas, Nevada OFF CAMERA
The early afternoon sunlight cast a brilliant glow upon the impressive cement building, rising up like a monolith in the desert. The highly acclaimed University Medical Center stood head and shoulders above the rest in terms of quality patient care and excellence in service. The doctors and nurses who are lucky enough to work here have made it their personal commitment to be there at all levels of care, and that includes taking care of the friends and family who come by to visit with their relatives.
Standing just outside the main entrance is one such visitor. Clad in light blue jeans, a blue and white horizontal striped tank top and black ballet flats, the woman runs a hand through her softly curled blonde hair as she stares up at the hospital. The woman, who is actually Las Vegas native Savannah Taylor, stands with her hands in her back pockets and looks up at the hospital with a look of apprehension. Considering her luck, or lack thereof with hospitals, one would naturally assume that stepping inside the doors would bring up memories of almost one year ago. If only it were that simple. Savannah was standing outside the hospital as a result of a completely by chance encounter she had the night before. She was set to watch the Lip Sync battle as part of the EXODUS Fan Experience leading up to the iPPV, but that all changed. It changed when she ran into a young woman by the name of Harper. It was in talking with her that Savannah discovered that Harper wasn’t just some normal seventeen year old, but she was her sister. Finding out she had a sister, a fact that was later confirmed to be true, threw her for a loop. But what really took Savannah by surprise was finding out that her oft-estranged mother was currently in the hospital, recovering from a motor vehicle accident. Hearing that bit of news stirred something inside of Savannah that compelled her to show up at the hospital. Drawing in a sharp breath, Savannah adjusts her smallish purse over her arm and forces herself to walk towards the door. The automatic doors open with a woosh as she steps inside the lobby. The smell of disinfectant hits her nostrils as she makes her way over to the elevators. Pressing the up button, she waits as she fishes out a small slip of paper from her jeans pocket. That paper contained the floor number and room number where her mother was currently staying. Clutching it in her fingers, the doors open with a slight ping as Savannah steps inside. She presses the four button and leans back against the cool metal railing as the doors close.
So many thoughts were going through Savannah’s head as the elevator made its way up to the fourth floor. The last time that she saw or even spoke to her mother was well over a year ago. That conversation went about as poorly as one could imagine. For Savannah, it was a one sided argument that was mainly her yelling and venting twenty plus years of frustrations. Looking back on that last encounter, she was left wondering if that would be the last time she would see her mother. Back then, she was a woman who was filled with an undeniable amount of rage, rage directed at her mother and her father. But as time went on, she found herself feeling the rage inside lessening. All she ever wanted were some answers. There was no time like the present.
The elevator came to a lurching stop and the doors opened up onto the fourth floor. Savannah stepped out into the brightly lit hallway, her heart beating a thousand beats per second. She looks down at the crumpled paper in her hand and looks down the hallway to the right of where she came out of the elevator. Heaving a sigh, she starts off down the hall in what she viewed as the longest walk of her entire life. If this were a movie, then the tile floor would be painted a bright green and her final destination wouldn’t be her mother’s hospital room, but the electric chair. It doesn’t take long before she is standing just outside her mother’s room. Shoving the paper back into her pocket, she wipes her palms on her jeans and tentatively knocks on the doorframe. The achingly familiar voice from her childhood calls out from the inside. Savannah takes a few small steps inside and finds herself face to face with not only her mother, but her father and her sister as well. Her parents look on in somewhat shock.
Carla Taylor: S….Savannah?
Savannah Taylor: Hi mom.
Martin Taylor: I’m kind of surprised to see you, considering what happened last time…
Savannah looks at her father with the slightest hint of a smile as she takes a seat in the chair by the foot of her mother’s bed. Her father was on the side closest to the door and her sister was next to the large picture window.
Savannah Taylor: Let’s just say I was convinced to come here when I found out what happened last night.
She glances over at her sister, who looks down with a sheepish smile.
Savannah Taylor: So, uhh, how are you feeling?
Carla Taylor: The injuries aren’t as bad as they initially thought. I should be able to go home as early as tomorrow.
Savannah Taylor: That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. And that, you know you’re alive.
Carla Taylor: Thank you. It means a lot to hear that.
A few somewhat awkward seconds pass before Martin clears his throat slightly.
Martin Taylor: I’m guessing that there is a much bigger reason why you’re here. I’m glad you are here, though. Don’t get me wrong.
Savannah can only nod her head in her father’s direction. Carla senses this and turns her attention to her younger daughter.
Carla Taylor: Harper, honey, maybe you should wait outside or even go to the cafete…..
Savannah looks at her mother and cuts her off.
Savannah Taylor: She stays. She’s family, so she stays.
Harper Taylor: Are….are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to make anything more awkward.
Savannah Taylor: You are part of this family. You deserve to hear whatever happens.
The youngest person in the room can only nod as she sinks back into her chair and watches as her sister turns to her parents. Savannah rests her purse on her lap as she weighs how she wants to proceed.
Savannah Taylor: You know it’s funny. I’ve spent the better part of a year thinking about what would happen if I ever was face to face with you guys again. I’ve thought of so many situations in my head, so many things I wanted to say. I know what happened the last time we saw each other; I said some horrible things and did some horrible things. But as time has ticked by, I’ve felt a lot of that anger start to subside.
She laughs softly to herself as tucks a strand of flaxen hair behind her head, the same color hair that both her mother and her sister share. Her father’s hair was a slightly darker shade of blond, but blond nonetheless.
Savannah Taylor: I guess what I want more than anything right now is the truth. Mom, why did you let yourself get caught up in all of that mess that caused you to end up in prison?
The look on Savannah’s face was not one of malice, but of real and genuine curiosity. Carla adjusts herself in her bed as best she can so she is better able to address her oldest daughter.
Carla Taylor: It isn’t as complex or even as deep rooted as you might think. Before I met your father, I came across these people whom I ended up befriending. We would hang out on the weekends; go to clubs and casinos and whatnot, the typical Las Vegas lifestyle. It was maybe a few months into this friendship that they started divulging some more secretive aspects of their life to me. That is when the various baggies and bottles came into play. I didn’t take anything in the bottles, but the different colored powders I saw in the baggies were intriguing. Pretty soon they were not only introducing me to this dangerous game, but they were encouraging me to take part in it. After all, they were friends and I wanted to be viewed as an equal. My stupid self was out one night and I pulled out one of the baggies that they had given me. Only I didn’t realize but a police officer was standing right near me when I flashed it out.
Carla pauses as she reaches for the plastic tumbler sitting on the bedside table and takes a long sip of water. She sets the glass down with a slight thud as she continues.
Carla Taylor: That is how I ended up in jail for about a year. After I got out, I made a vow to keep myself out of trouble. I got a job at the local library. I met your father. Everything seemed to be looking up and everything looked like it would be perfect for the rest of time. After I gave birth to you, we were facing some slight financial issues. Your father took on more hours with the trucking company and I took a second job at the Tropicana. Looking back now, I wish I never had taken that second job. I was in a good position in my life. I had a wonderful husband. We had a beautiful baby girl. What could possibly happen that would screw that up?
She says with a sardonic smile on her face as she shakes her head slightly.
Carla Taylor: It turns out one simple, somewhat unknowing gesture cost me more than anyone could fathom. One day, your grandmother brought you home after a day in the park and had accidentally bumped into the table where I always kept my purse. It tipped over and stuff had spilled out onto the floor. She was picking up the contents and started putting stuff back when she found the plastic baggie. I didn’t know it at the time and neither did she, but someone else who worked at the Tropicana had the same exact purse that I had at the time and thought she was putting it into her purse, but it ended up in mine instead. Your grandmother did what any loving parent would do in a situation like this. She called the police and it wasn’t long before I wasn’t in jail. Because this was a second offense, they sent me right off to prison. They didn’t even care that I was innocent for a change. So that, in a nutshell, it what happened all those years ago.
Savannah looks at her mother, having listened to her explanation of things for the first time in, well, ever. Maybe it was because she was older and slightly wiser, but she could hear regret and remorse in her mother’s voice. She clears her throat and turns from her mother to her father.
Savannah Taylor: What happened with Grandma?
Martin Taylor: That was my doing, I’m regrettably admitting.
Savannah Taylor: What did you do, dad?
Savannah’s voice was slowly starting to drift to the emotional side as she waits for her father to explain what happened.
Martin Taylor: I was blinded by anger. I was angry at having my wife, the love of my life taken away from me for something that wasn’t even her fault that I took it out on the one person who was only acting like an actual adult. I took it out on your grandmother. I made up a story that was a complete lie and that resulted in Child Protective Services being called and you being removed from her home. With your mother in prison and with me on the road for weeks at a time, the decision was made to put you into the foster care system.
The revelation hit Savannah like a sack full of bricks. She remembered that fateful day when she was five. She remembers the people from the State coming in and the chaos that ensued. She remembered being an innocent little girl and having her entire world not just turned upside down, but ripped to shreds. Her grandmother’s house was the last place that ever truly felt like home to her. It was the last place she remembered, up until a year ago, feeling at peace. Her eyes began to glisten as she forces down the slight feeling of nausea.
Savannah Taylor: So you were blinded by a misplaced feeling of anger. You destroyed your own mother’s life because she actually did the right thing. Yet you didn’t even stop to think how this would affect the real victim here…..me. You didn’t think how this would shape MY life. Why did you allow this to happen? Why did you let your little girl be subjected to the kind of hell that you can’t really emotionally recover from?
The tears have begun to fall from her crystal blue eyes as she continues speaking.
Savannah Taylor: After Mom got released from prison, how come you two never fought for me? How come you never wanted me back in your lives?
The normally confident and collected professional wrestler was instead replaced by a scared and unsure little girl. She was replaced by a little girl who simply wanted to know why her family abandoned her and set her on a course that would make her the woman that graced the EXODUS ring.
Savannah Taylor: Because from the age of five right up until I turned eighteen, I went from place to place, searching for a sense of home. I wanted nothing more than to find a family, who would love me, protect me and most of all, fight for me. For one reason or another, no one wanted to take that risk. No one wanted to risk having the daughter of a convict living in their midst. Do you know the kind of psychological trauma I went through because of everything you just told me?
This time, it is Carla’s turn to have the tears fall down from her face.
Carla Taylor: Oh honey, you don’t know how hard we fought to get you out of there. When I was released, I wanted nothing more than to have my daughter back in my arms. I wanted to make up for everything. We fought and we fought, but we were told that there was no way you would be returned to us. There were people within the Department of Child Welfare who felt that no matter how much I proved myself, a convicted felon would never win against them. Despite that, we kept on fighting what was proving to be a losing battle. Then I became pregnant with and gave birth to your sister. Even though I had been given a second chance at being a mother, I still wanted nothing more than to have you back in my life.
Martin Taylor: We both screwed up, Savannah. We also know that no amount of apologies can ever take away what you went through. We thought that if we ever were able to see you again, we would get everything out in the open and hopefully begin the healing process. But the last time we saw you, we froze. I saw the hurt on your face. It’s something we both carry in our minds to this day.
Savannah closes her eyes and rests her forehead on her fist. So many things were going through her mind right now, the least of which was her match on Monday against Justin Brooks. It took several years, but she was finally getting some much needed and much anticipated answers. Picking her head up, she opens her eyes and wipes away some of the tears with the back of her hand.
Savannah Taylor: I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for God knows how long. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind last year or even the year before that to have this much dialogue with you guys. I think……I think I’d like to start communicating like this, with all of you again. I want to get to know my parents again, and I’d like to get to know the sister I never knew I had until yesterday.
The look on her parent’s faces was priceless. It didn’t show much shock or trepidation, but rather hope. However, the hopeful mood was quickly replaced by a more somber feeling as Carla cleared her throat.
Carla Taylor: You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to hear that. But there is something that you should know, something that I need to tell you.
Savannah Taylor: Ok……I’m listening.
Carla looks at her husband and then at her youngest daughter, their expressions matching hers, before she turns her attention back to Savannah.
Carla Taylor: About a month and a half ago, I was getting my annual checkup at the doctor’s office. She decided to run some tests to make sure everything was running smoothly. About a week later, her office calls me in to discuss these results. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but was nervous going in there. One of the tests that were run was a mammogram, which was no big deal because I was coming up on my yearly one anyway.
She stops briefly and watches as Savannah bites her lip, almost afraid of what was next.
Carla Taylor: To make a long story short, I was diagnosed with Stage II Breast Cancer.
Time stopped right then and there. All Savannah heard was a wall of static in her mind when she heard the word cancer come from her mother’s mouth. It seemed like it wasn’t real, like this was all part of a sick and twisted prank that everyone knew about but her. Savannah sat back in her chair and blinked a few times, feeling a fresh bout of tears coming on. She sniffed a couple of times before reaching into her purse for a tissue. As she is fumbling around, her fingers graze against her iPhone. They remained there for a second before she lets go. Her world was slowly becoming more chaotic as the minutes ticked by. Yet the first thing in her mind was calling someone. She wanted nothing more right now than to pick up her phone and call someone, someone who would listen to her and tell her that things were going to eventually be alright. Unfortunately the one person Savannah wanted to talk to above everyone was also the one person who wanted nothing to do with her. She tried to push that thought out of her head as she finds the tissue and dabs at her eyes. That feeling of regret when she touched her phone would have to wait. Hell, even her final match preparations for Justin Brooks would have to wait. Right now, her family needed her as much as she needed them. This visit was proving to be a step in the right direction of slowly repairing not only a broken family unit, but a broken spirit as well.
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Post by Savannah Taylor on Jan 21, 2016 13:11:43 GMT -5
“We all change, when you think about it. We’re all different people through our lives. And that’s okay, that’s good, you’ve got to keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be.” - The Eleventh Doctor in “The Time of the Doctor.” Saturday, January 9th, 2016 Boston, Massachusetts OFF CAMERA
The Matthews Arena was just beginning to empty out after the main event had wrapped up. Another Saturday had seen yet another solid episode of Vertigo go down in the record books. For the superstars of the FGA, the time used after the show would more than likely be used to celebrate their victories and plan for the next show. However, celebration was the farthest thing from the mind of one particular person. Walking down the stretch of backstage hallway that leads to the exit was the normally striking figure of one Savannah Taylor. She walked with her normally confident gait, but her blue eyes told a far different tale. She had made her debut earlier this evening and despite her best effort, she came up short. But it wasn’t the loss itself that had Savannah in a less than favorable mood. The fact that her opponent felt the only way he could win was by grabbing a handful of her tights was something that didn’t sit well with her. But she would get to him in due time. Right now, all she wanted to do was go back to the comfort of her hotel room and just shut everything out for the night. As she came about halfway towards the door, a voice calling out to her from behind stops her walking. “As I live and breathe!”
Behind her stood the former Exodus standout in Aries Reed with stands in the middle of the hallway with his arms outstretched and a large smile on his face. Aries Reed: If ain't the last Exodus Pro World Champion herself, Savannah -GODDAMN- Taylor. And might I add the sexiest thing to wear that title since...well...anyone for that matter. And now she's brought her talents to the FGA. I'm not going to lie; it's good to see you here. I thought I was going to be the only person here after all that bullshit in San Diego. Savannah turned around slowly and saw the grin on the often punchable face of Aries Reed. Internally she was sighing, having had not the best of nights. But she mustered up something close to a smile as she faces her former-now-current coworker. Savannah Taylor: In the flesh. You know you wouldn’t be the only former person from San Diego to be here for long. It would only be a matter of time before others followed suit. Lucky for everyone….it's me. Aries Reed: Well that depends on who you're talking to. I find it unlucky for everyone else that it’s you and I mean that with all due respect. I know you got a rough draw out there against Diamond, so I'll make this quick. But despite all the bullshit that went down in San Diego and all the bullshit that we both had to wade through...you were always Aces in my book. You're a helluva talent and if I couldn't be World Champ, there ain't anyone else I would rather it be than you. In short, in this place new faces...I got your back. Savannah can’t help but cock an eyebrow slightly. Savannah Taylor: Ok who are you and what have you done with Aries Reed? She says with a smirk. Savannah Taylor: But seriously…..thank you. I appreciate the compliment. It was a rough two years but it worked out pretty well for me in the end. Now I’m just very much looking forward to a fresh start in a new company where I don’t have to worry about the previously mentioned bullshit. Aries can't help but laugh at her earlier comment as he placed his hands on his waist and shake his head. Aries Reed: Oh don't you worry that pretty lil’ head about a thing. I'm the same brash, arrogant, and obnoxious lil’ shit you remember, I just know when give respect when respect is due. But I'm counting down the days where we stand across from one another in that ring. This is a fresh start, like you said, and we both looking to make our way to the top. With a smile, Aries slowly extends his hand out towards her. Aries Reed: See you at the top? Savannah Taylor: I honestly don’t think the FGA is ready for that. But its a long way to the top, one that won’t be easy. She looks down at his hand and tentatively shakes it. Savannah Taylor: We’ll see who gets there first. She replies with a casual grin. Aries Reed: Indeed we will, indeed we will. Savannah Taylor: Just if/when we do end up meeting each other in the ring, don’t expect what I did to Justin Brooks…….yet. She laughs to herself, thinking about the hell they put each other through. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she grabs her iPhone and checks the clock, sliding it back in her pocket. Savannah Taylor: As much as I would love to stand here and talk, all I really want right now is to just go back to my room and crawl into bed. I’ve got a busy few days coming up and I need all the downtime I can get. With those parting words, Savannah gives a polite nod of her head to Aries as she continues to make her way to the exit. Even though the two had never so much as spoken a word to each other while employed out in San Diego, outside of social media that is, Savannah always had it in her mind that Aries was the most egocentric and full of himself person on the face of the Earth. Maybe being in a completely different setting would see a different side to the oft-polarizing member of the Reed family. That would be something that only time would be able to tell. Grasping the cool metal door handle underneath her bare hand, she pushes it open and steps out into the alcove leading to the parking lot, where her rental car was in sight. A night away from the events that transpired hours earlier was just what the Las Vegas native needed. Tomorrow morning she could focus on preparing herself physically and mentally for the next match. The next match she had, she would be more than ready. People could count on that. Well who would have ever imagined that? Who can honestly sit here and tell me with a straight face that Aries Reed would approach another human being and not be his “normal” self? Anyone that has seen him so far in FGA is only catching a glimpse of the man who managed to get under the skin of just about everyone out in San Diego. I’m still trying to wrap my head around what he was after. I’m trying to figure out if he is indeed genuine about what he said to me, about believing in a fresh start in a new place. Or if he is just using this as a ruse to try and get inside my head early should we ever meet up inside of the ring. I’ll have to keep an eye on that one.
That little face to face with Aries was just the cap on what can only be described as an interesting night. My FGA debut didn’t go the way I had hoped it would. I was close; I was THIS CLOSE to securing the win and what happens? Danny Diamond happened. He apparently couldn’t accept the fact that someone was actually outwrestling him, so he resorted to the cheap trick of grabbing a handful of tights to get the win. I guess I can’t fault him for doing what he did. If I were in his shoes, I’d grab my tights too. I actually have to tip my imaginary cap to him. For the second consecutive Vertigo, he managed to become the wrestling equivalent of the dreaded blue shell in Mario Kart. Think about it. You’re on Rainbow Road. You have a pretty good lead heading into the final stretch. The finish line is so close you can almost taste it. Then all of a sudden, disaster strikes. The person behind you throws the blue shell, knocking you out of contention for the win and relegating you to second place. That is exactly what happened with Noelle Smith and me. We were SO CLOSE to beating Danny that he freaked and went right for the dirty tactics. Don’t worry though. Sooner or later, Danny is going to get his.
As tempting as it is to stew over what happened, I need to move forward. I need to look to the future and right now, Salem Cartier is next up. I’ll be the first to admit that she is good. Anyone who can stand toe to toe with the likes of Tony Carmine and, despite a loss, come away looking like a million bucks is not one to be taken lightly. However, and here is the important part, neither should I be taken lightly. Not only is this going to be a matchup between two people looking to gain some solid footing, there is a wildcard thrown into the mix. That wildcard comes in the form of special guest referee Annie Zellor. Wrestling is a business where you have to expect the unexpected. For me, Annie Zellor is the unexpected.
I still don’t know why she is being as nice to me as she is. Surely she has seen what I’ve done in the past. But there she is, Starbucks cup in hand and a smile on her face, ready to be the best friend to everyone she meets. In some ways she somewhat reminds me of my sister. They both are known for their joie de vivre, which is something I wish I had at times. Annie was the second person to welcome me to FGA with open arms. Her upbeat attitude, at times is a little much to take in, is like a little breath of fresh air. But I can’t let that friendship get in the way of the task at hand. I have a witch to hunt in Queens. Annie as the guest referee or not, Vertigo is going to be the place where this Siren causes the witch to melt away.
Panic. Delirium. Excitement. Madness.
All of these words are synonyms for hysteria. The dictionary defines hysteria as exaggerated or uncontrollable emotion or excitement, especially among a group of people. Every so often in our history there comes an event, an event so grand in scale, that causes everyday average Joes and Janes to become stark raving lunatics. Late last year it was the hotly anticipated release of the new Star Wars movie. In the nineteen sixties, Beatlemania swept the country, a movement that would forever change the landscape of popular music. But there is one moment in history that, probably above all others, that gives the best example of mass hysteria. It happened between February in sixteen ninety two and May in sixteen ninety three. It was a time in American history where even the slightest hint that you were different than the rest of the population resulted in imprisonment, judgement and, in most cases, execution. During this period of time, twenty people were executed all because there was enough “evidence” against them that swayed the local magistrates, who felt that these people deserved the fate that was handed down to them. What is this event that I’m talking about? If you had any sort of deductive reasoning, you’d know I’m referring to the Salem Witch Trials. Why am I talking about this and how does this relate to wrestling, you ask?
Enter Salem Cartier.
Let me just state for the record that I don’t have any real issues with you, Salem. I find you to be someone who has a bright future ahead of you. I’m just not going to let it come at my expense. I saw how you handled yourself against Tony Carmine and I have to say, I was impressed. Anyone who can do what you did against the likes of Tony and walk away looking as good as you did deserve a round of applause. But your moment of glory that you are still basking in from that match, rightfully so I might add, is about to come to a screeching halt this week. To think I’m just going to be the icing on the cake that is sure to be your horrible week. I’m just the final act, Salem. The main course happens to be your match in the Young Guns cup.
Oh yes, I’ve been paying attention to that, and not just because of you Salem. I’ve been paying attention because you never know who is going to rise up and find themselves in the same company where you work. You never know who is going to find themselves knocking at your door, looking to take you out without so much as a second glance. It would appear that, despite all of your best efforts thus far in the Young Guns cup, you have found the one person that you would rather tear your own arm off and run screaming into the night than have to face them. I know it isn’t easy to face your wife, Salem. But guess what? Nothing in life, whether it is wrestling or otherwise, is easy. I know having to stand on the opposite side of the ring from your wife isn’t an enviable position to be in. Believe it or not, I’ve been in the position that you find yourself in. I’ve had the daunting task of standing across the ring from the person that I love more than anything. Yeah it was an uncomfortable position to be in and yeah I lost that match. Did I let it bother me? No I didn’t. I lost to someone who is one of the best wrestlers alive today. That match forced me to become a better wrestler. That match taught me that I still have stuff I need to learn not only about this business, but about myself as well. For the record, I still love that person more than anything else to this very day. The point I am trying to make Salem is that you are going to be just fine after this match. Yes it will be awkward, but you’ll walk away from it a better person. However, that doesn’t mean you’ll be advancing past your wife. Never once did I say that about you. Looking at who is left in the Young Guns Cup, I see about, oh let’s say four people, who stand the best chances of winning the entire thing. Not one of them is named Artemis. They ESPECIALLY are not named Salem.
I’m not like most people you’ve faced, and I think that is a damn good thing. I’d like to think that I’m the type of person that no one expects to be able to do much against pretty much anyone. For whatever reason, people take one look at me and automatically assume that any match against me is going to be a summer stroll through Central Park. Now whether that has to do with the fact that I’m not the biggest person in the world or my obvious good looks, the world may never know. Saturday night in Queens, you are going to find out first hand that these stellar good looks are only the outside layer. Underneath lies a quiet storm, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash hell. Oh, what’s the matter Salem? Are you having a hard time believing me? Ask anyone who has seen more than one match I’ve been in just what a headache I can be for people. There is a reason why, in my previous place of employment, no one else came close to being near me when it came to being in the running for Match of the Year. No match could match what my Last Man Standing match had. I put my opponent through the worst fight that he has ever had. I may have lost that match, by the very skin of my teeth I may add, but I won more than I lost. That one match elevated me to a completely different level. It just so happens to be a level that people, yourself included, can only dream of reaching. But go ahead and keep thinking this is going to be easy for you. Don’t come crying to me when I prove you otherwise.
Saturday night in Queens, people are going to see just what happens when a witch comes face to face with a Siren. The Salem Witch Trials may be long gone and written about in history text books. But this Saturday, a whole new version of the Trials is set to take place. While they may not hang witches or burn them at the stake anymore, the more modern way of dealing with them is basically beating them into bloody oblivion. An antiquated method yes, but it is damn sure effective. A wise person said that the cream always rises to the top. Expect my rise to take place when we meet up in the ring, Salem. See you Saturday, witch.
Auf Wiedersehen
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