Alone With My Thoughts
Feb 9, 2012 20:33:49 GMT -5
Post by Stephen on Feb 9, 2012 20:33:49 GMT -5
Jacques Mercier emerges through the curtain that leads into the backstage losing his match to FGA Heavyweight Champion, Mike Tompkins. He grabs the back of his neck and begins to rub it, the soreness causing him to wince slightly. The fans are still applauding his valiant attempt at victory, but their applause is suddenly silenced by Michael Tompkins' voice echoing throughout the arena.
Jacques looks at the ground as the crowd cheers Tompkins on. He still couldn't believe he'd lost. Even more so, he couldn't believe that he was officially on a losing streak. A career that once looked promising is slowly spiraling out of control. He began to play back the match in his head. The Showstoppa Elbow attempt was the beginning of the end. He could hear his uncle, Antoine Hurst, now: "Taking unnecessary risks is a surefire way to leave a match with your hand not raised. I've told you that so many damn times now, yet you still insist on pandering to the meaningless fans. You've still got a lot to learn, and if you want to be successful in this business then you need to learn it quick." Jacques sucks his teeth as he looks up from the ground. He could argue with his uncle that he'd kept up with Tompkins until the very end, but he knew that it would be pointless. Winning was all that mattered to Antoine, and he always said that keeping up with your opponent doesn't prove anything. Dominating your opponent, controlling the match, and forcing the opponent to keep up with your pace were the keys to victory. Jacques knew that his uncle was right, but Jacques was stubborn and figured that since it was his style then he could do it his way. His uncle’s methods sounded really good right now.
Jacques walked over to the nearest wall and softly slammed his back against it before sliding to the floor. He sat with his knees in the air and his hands locked around them, his left hand holding the right. He then lowered his head to make it seem as if he were sulking or resting. He didn't want to be disturbed, but he doubted that anyone was paying him any attention now that Tompkins and O'Reilly were exchanging words. What was up with that guy anyway? Jacques wasn't above cheating to win, but to attack someone after a match was something that he just didn't like seeing. His uncle thought differently on the matter of course. He'd probably praise O'Reilly for making a statement before even debuting. Jacques' grip his right hand tightened. Antoine would probably say that Jacques should have done something like that. Probably go out and attack Jared James or Blaine Harrison, viciously beating one of them until his message to the FGA universe was received. Earning respect wasn't nearly as rewarding as commanding it. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to stop being flashy and stick to the basics. Who cared what the fans think so long as Jacques was satisfied with himself? What was a mutual respect between Tompkins or anyone else on the roster once you've proven that you're the best?
The booing from the fans makes Jacques look up. Apparently O'Reilly was adamant about sending that message to Tompkins. And why should he be booed for that? He was just trying to make a name for himself just like Jacques. The difference was that O'Reilly's method was working for him. Although Jacques had won over the fans, he was nowhere near where he wanted, and expected, to be right now. His only victory came from a man whose final match in FGA saw him looking pathetic. Why would that mean anything? Beating the people you're supposed to beat is just that, something you're supposed to do. If you fail at it, you look weak. What mattered was placing yourself among the top dogs, and the only to do that was to beat the top dogs. So far, Jacques was 0-2 in that regard.
He lowered his head once more. Both losses could very well been victories. Rookie mistakes, pandering to the fans, and thinking that this job was going to be easy kept him from winning. He could hear his uncle again: "I told you. I told you that this wasn't what you thought is going to be, but you never fucking listen. You've done a lot of dumb shit in your life, but this has to be the worst. It's pathetic and it reflects badly on me, and I'll be damned if I let your as makes me look weak. Changes must be made, now. The mistakes were forgivable the first match, but after that they should have been either gone or miniscule. How many times were your attacks countered? Too many. Even you're dodging was terrible. If you're going to leapfrog over someone then you better be trying to fly. Letting your opponent grab you in midair and bring you back to Earth with a Spinebuster is downright embarrassing. Secondly, I don't know where you got the impression that you could just walk into a promotion and just ascend to the top without effort, but that stupid impression has to go. You're beginning to look like you are shit rather than the shit and that shit isn't going to get you anywhere. Until you've begun to dominate your opponent, it is the only time that you are equals. If you're the one being dominated though, it shows that you probably weren't their equal to begin with." Jacques grip tightens again.
Jacques Mercier (whisper): I get it unc.
His voice persists: "No, you don't. You can't possibly fucking get it this quickly or that would have meant that you would have understood it to begin with and chose to ignore it, which I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. You clearly aren't focused on winning when you're in that ring. Actually, I take that back. You're focused... Focused on signing autographs and hearing the crowd chant your name. Let me let you in on a little secret... Signing those autographs expends too much energy that should be applied towards preparing for your next match, and the fans can't help you in a match, especially not by chanting your name. If you want to have a bright future in this business, you need to denounce those bastards and be your own damn fan. Thinking that the chants give you motivation is a foolish rookie mistake that you can avoid before your career comes to an abrupt end. Actually, you probably won't have to be released. Knowing you, you'd just quit once the going gets tough. You've always done that, even when you were a kid. Why don't you save us all some time and embarrassment and just do the one thing you're good at, quit."
The voice is suddenly silent. Jacques sits there for a few more minutes, expecting the mental and verbal beat down to resume, but the voice doesn't return. Maybe his uncle was right. After all, no one that actually knew Jacques would be surprised. No one believed him when he said that he'd grown up and changed anyway, so why not. The only people he'd actually be letting down were the fans, and it wasn't like he actually knew them. They'd probably forget that he existed two weeks after he quit. But wasn't that why he got into wrestling in the first place? To make a name for himself? To become a legend? To be known and loved for all time? For once in his life, he had a goal that he actually cared about and if he quit, the fans wouldn't be the only people he'd let down. He'd let himself down too. Not only would the fans forget that he existed, Jacques wouldn't be happy with who is. Was he happy with himself right now though? Yeah. He loved this job. No, it wasn't a job. He loved this hobby and he was passionate about what he did. Even as he got pinned, he still was happy with himself. So long as he put on a show, he would slowly climb towards achieving his dream. But winning... Winning made him feel invincible, and now that feeling has diminished. He raised his head just as the show came to a close. He wanted that feeling back, but he would get it back his way. He grinned.
Jacques Mercier: Uncle Antoine, you always know exactly what to say. Thanks for the pep talk.
"Eh, fuck you" the voice says as Jacques gets to his feet. He walks over to the curtain and peeks through. He looks at the ring and the people in it before scanning the stands where the fans are slowly making their exit. His eye then falls on the FGA Heavyweight Championship Belt. For the first time, the realization that it could have been his actually sinks in. A look of determination comes upon his face.
Jacques Mercier: Never again. I've let opportunities slip through my hands all my life, but it won't happen again. I will have that title and soon. Next week, my losing streak will turn into the beginning of a winning streak no matter who my opponent is. Every match is an opportunity at this point. An opportunity to show that I deserve a shot at that title, and an opportunity to show that I'm fit to be champion. I won't let that opportunity slip away again. I won't.
Fade out.
Tomkins: After the Supershow where I won my Title, I just have a few things I need to get off my chest. Jared James, you put up one hell of a fight against me. I will give credit where credit is due. You vowed to shut me up. You vowed to become the first ever Champion. You said that I was green and you would punish any mistakes that I made. Well…
(Tomkins holds his hand making a sign of an inch, pausing for a moment.)
Tomkins: You came this close to keeping your word. You fought hard, made me really give everything I had to gain the victory. But in the end I didn’t make a mistake. I defied the critics, all of them. Everyone that said without Tim in my corner, I would amount to nothing. That’s you, Jared, as well as Blaine, the Harvard Connection, Grace Adams, Timmy, all of the commentators and quite a few of the fans who had something to say via email after I first defeated Jack Flener. I’m the only undefeated guy left on the roster who has competed. I have won six matches without defeat. I won the tournament and I am your Champion!
(Tomkins holds his hand making a sign of an inch, pausing for a moment.)
Tomkins: You came this close to keeping your word. You fought hard, made me really give everything I had to gain the victory. But in the end I didn’t make a mistake. I defied the critics, all of them. Everyone that said without Tim in my corner, I would amount to nothing. That’s you, Jared, as well as Blaine, the Harvard Connection, Grace Adams, Timmy, all of the commentators and quite a few of the fans who had something to say via email after I first defeated Jack Flener. I’m the only undefeated guy left on the roster who has competed. I have won six matches without defeat. I won the tournament and I am your Champion!
Jacques looks at the ground as the crowd cheers Tompkins on. He still couldn't believe he'd lost. Even more so, he couldn't believe that he was officially on a losing streak. A career that once looked promising is slowly spiraling out of control. He began to play back the match in his head. The Showstoppa Elbow attempt was the beginning of the end. He could hear his uncle, Antoine Hurst, now: "Taking unnecessary risks is a surefire way to leave a match with your hand not raised. I've told you that so many damn times now, yet you still insist on pandering to the meaningless fans. You've still got a lot to learn, and if you want to be successful in this business then you need to learn it quick." Jacques sucks his teeth as he looks up from the ground. He could argue with his uncle that he'd kept up with Tompkins until the very end, but he knew that it would be pointless. Winning was all that mattered to Antoine, and he always said that keeping up with your opponent doesn't prove anything. Dominating your opponent, controlling the match, and forcing the opponent to keep up with your pace were the keys to victory. Jacques knew that his uncle was right, but Jacques was stubborn and figured that since it was his style then he could do it his way. His uncle’s methods sounded really good right now.
Jacques walked over to the nearest wall and softly slammed his back against it before sliding to the floor. He sat with his knees in the air and his hands locked around them, his left hand holding the right. He then lowered his head to make it seem as if he were sulking or resting. He didn't want to be disturbed, but he doubted that anyone was paying him any attention now that Tompkins and O'Reilly were exchanging words. What was up with that guy anyway? Jacques wasn't above cheating to win, but to attack someone after a match was something that he just didn't like seeing. His uncle thought differently on the matter of course. He'd probably praise O'Reilly for making a statement before even debuting. Jacques' grip his right hand tightened. Antoine would probably say that Jacques should have done something like that. Probably go out and attack Jared James or Blaine Harrison, viciously beating one of them until his message to the FGA universe was received. Earning respect wasn't nearly as rewarding as commanding it. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to stop being flashy and stick to the basics. Who cared what the fans think so long as Jacques was satisfied with himself? What was a mutual respect between Tompkins or anyone else on the roster once you've proven that you're the best?
The booing from the fans makes Jacques look up. Apparently O'Reilly was adamant about sending that message to Tompkins. And why should he be booed for that? He was just trying to make a name for himself just like Jacques. The difference was that O'Reilly's method was working for him. Although Jacques had won over the fans, he was nowhere near where he wanted, and expected, to be right now. His only victory came from a man whose final match in FGA saw him looking pathetic. Why would that mean anything? Beating the people you're supposed to beat is just that, something you're supposed to do. If you fail at it, you look weak. What mattered was placing yourself among the top dogs, and the only to do that was to beat the top dogs. So far, Jacques was 0-2 in that regard.
He lowered his head once more. Both losses could very well been victories. Rookie mistakes, pandering to the fans, and thinking that this job was going to be easy kept him from winning. He could hear his uncle again: "I told you. I told you that this wasn't what you thought is going to be, but you never fucking listen. You've done a lot of dumb shit in your life, but this has to be the worst. It's pathetic and it reflects badly on me, and I'll be damned if I let your as makes me look weak. Changes must be made, now. The mistakes were forgivable the first match, but after that they should have been either gone or miniscule. How many times were your attacks countered? Too many. Even you're dodging was terrible. If you're going to leapfrog over someone then you better be trying to fly. Letting your opponent grab you in midair and bring you back to Earth with a Spinebuster is downright embarrassing. Secondly, I don't know where you got the impression that you could just walk into a promotion and just ascend to the top without effort, but that stupid impression has to go. You're beginning to look like you are shit rather than the shit and that shit isn't going to get you anywhere. Until you've begun to dominate your opponent, it is the only time that you are equals. If you're the one being dominated though, it shows that you probably weren't their equal to begin with." Jacques grip tightens again.
Jacques Mercier (whisper): I get it unc.
His voice persists: "No, you don't. You can't possibly fucking get it this quickly or that would have meant that you would have understood it to begin with and chose to ignore it, which I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. You clearly aren't focused on winning when you're in that ring. Actually, I take that back. You're focused... Focused on signing autographs and hearing the crowd chant your name. Let me let you in on a little secret... Signing those autographs expends too much energy that should be applied towards preparing for your next match, and the fans can't help you in a match, especially not by chanting your name. If you want to have a bright future in this business, you need to denounce those bastards and be your own damn fan. Thinking that the chants give you motivation is a foolish rookie mistake that you can avoid before your career comes to an abrupt end. Actually, you probably won't have to be released. Knowing you, you'd just quit once the going gets tough. You've always done that, even when you were a kid. Why don't you save us all some time and embarrassment and just do the one thing you're good at, quit."
The voice is suddenly silent. Jacques sits there for a few more minutes, expecting the mental and verbal beat down to resume, but the voice doesn't return. Maybe his uncle was right. After all, no one that actually knew Jacques would be surprised. No one believed him when he said that he'd grown up and changed anyway, so why not. The only people he'd actually be letting down were the fans, and it wasn't like he actually knew them. They'd probably forget that he existed two weeks after he quit. But wasn't that why he got into wrestling in the first place? To make a name for himself? To become a legend? To be known and loved for all time? For once in his life, he had a goal that he actually cared about and if he quit, the fans wouldn't be the only people he'd let down. He'd let himself down too. Not only would the fans forget that he existed, Jacques wouldn't be happy with who is. Was he happy with himself right now though? Yeah. He loved this job. No, it wasn't a job. He loved this hobby and he was passionate about what he did. Even as he got pinned, he still was happy with himself. So long as he put on a show, he would slowly climb towards achieving his dream. But winning... Winning made him feel invincible, and now that feeling has diminished. He raised his head just as the show came to a close. He wanted that feeling back, but he would get it back his way. He grinned.
Jacques Mercier: Uncle Antoine, you always know exactly what to say. Thanks for the pep talk.
"Eh, fuck you" the voice says as Jacques gets to his feet. He walks over to the curtain and peeks through. He looks at the ring and the people in it before scanning the stands where the fans are slowly making their exit. His eye then falls on the FGA Heavyweight Championship Belt. For the first time, the realization that it could have been his actually sinks in. A look of determination comes upon his face.
Jacques Mercier: Never again. I've let opportunities slip through my hands all my life, but it won't happen again. I will have that title and soon. Next week, my losing streak will turn into the beginning of a winning streak no matter who my opponent is. Every match is an opportunity at this point. An opportunity to show that I deserve a shot at that title, and an opportunity to show that I'm fit to be champion. I won't let that opportunity slip away again. I won't.
Fade out.