Borrowed Time
May 26, 2016 19:45:41 GMT -5
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.
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.