Josh #7: Orange
Jun 13, 2016 19:34:16 GMT -5
Post by pete on Jun 13, 2016 19:34:16 GMT -5
You know what I realised, this past week?
Josh Mitchell looks up into the lens of the camera as it comes into focus. He’s wearing his ring gear, complete with entrance hoodie. He has a wistful, far away look in his eyes.
It’s been… what, 5 months now? Five months since I started this journey. That’s… it doesn’t feel that long.
He kicks at the floor a little with his prosthetic, the carbon fibre echoing oddly.
I was told I wouldn’t last a week, and it’s been what now? 20? At least. Heh, I can still remember the looks I got walking into the facility for my interview… Students and staff alike…
Hand goes the the back of his neck, rubbing it.
I get it, I do. The people doing this, the training, they know how hard it is. Some of them… they were threatened. The idea that someone… like me… could walk into this… and not only get by, but actually do alright? Yeah… so I get it. I do.
A wave of the hand, as if dismissing the thought.
Sorry, I’ve gone off topic a bit...The point is… there were very few people who thought I’d get anywhere. My Mom, bless her heart, certainly didn’t want me to, just wanted it to be a phase, I guess. I… I guess I didn’t think I could really do it.
A shrug. A half-smile.
Now look at me. Intermediate class… I know to some, that’s like nothing, a formality. To me though? That’s huge. Because if nothing else… it means I’m not the new guy, not any more.
He looks almost… embarrassed.
People like Mariza, like Rab… It’s hard to get my head around… but I’ve actually been doing this longer than them. Mariza actually asked me to help her get her head around a hold last week. Me.
A shake of the head, as he chuckles to himself.
I’m not the new guy any more. Last Pride… I let myself get too wrapped up in how “big” my opponent was. I’m not saying I could have beat Hana if I was more confident… but I should have been, regardless. Hana. Keegan. Yes, these people have been here longer than me… yes they’ve had their own successes… but that doesn’t detract from my own. That doesn’t detract from the fact I need to be here… that I’ve earned my place here. That’s right, I’ve earned it.
Assertive. Assured. His face is the definition of confident.
Regardless of what people like Butcher may think… I wasn’t handed a place at this school. I took the physical, the same as everyone else. I did the tryout, the same as everyone else. They say I’ve had it easier? I’ve had it harder. Because not only have I had to prove just as much as anyone else I have what it takes to be here to the people who run the place, but I seem to have to prove it daily to my classmates. To the other guys who use the gym. To everyone who tunes in to Pride and just says “they’ve got a cripple now? That’s a cheap gimmick.” Guess what. It’s not a gimmick.
Josh reaches down. Pressing a release catch on his leg, he then pulls it free of the socket. He wobbles slightly, as he adjusts his balance to the one leg, presenting the prosthesis to the camera.
This is my life. This doesn’t make my life easier, regardless of whatever delusions about it some people have. This didn’t earn me my slot. This isn’t going to beat Keegan Hightower.
Reaching down once more, he locks the prosthetic back on it’s pin, the click audible to the camera, as he leans heavily on the leg to place it firmly.
Keegan… I never expected you to go easy on me. Regardless of my own… issues with the Baroness, I have never asked for an easy ride. I’ve put myself through the exact same challenges as everyone else, and never once asked for clemency.
A crack of the knuckles. A roll of the shoulders.
The story’s the same. You might want to win… but I need it. You lose, that means nothing to no-one. Keegan had a bad night. Josh got lucky. Whatever. If I lose?
A sneer, like a foul smell has drifted in.
They all get proved right. That I’m just a novelty. That I’m just here as some affirmative action. That I’ve not earned this.
A subtle shake of the head.
Be ready, Keegan. No attempts at quips. No funny puns. No “may the better man win” smiles. I need to win.
A deep sigh.
Time to actually start doing it.
Josh Mitchell looks up into the lens of the camera as it comes into focus. He’s wearing his ring gear, complete with entrance hoodie. He has a wistful, far away look in his eyes.
It’s been… what, 5 months now? Five months since I started this journey. That’s… it doesn’t feel that long.
He kicks at the floor a little with his prosthetic, the carbon fibre echoing oddly.
I was told I wouldn’t last a week, and it’s been what now? 20? At least. Heh, I can still remember the looks I got walking into the facility for my interview… Students and staff alike…
Hand goes the the back of his neck, rubbing it.
I get it, I do. The people doing this, the training, they know how hard it is. Some of them… they were threatened. The idea that someone… like me… could walk into this… and not only get by, but actually do alright? Yeah… so I get it. I do.
A wave of the hand, as if dismissing the thought.
Sorry, I’ve gone off topic a bit...The point is… there were very few people who thought I’d get anywhere. My Mom, bless her heart, certainly didn’t want me to, just wanted it to be a phase, I guess. I… I guess I didn’t think I could really do it.
A shrug. A half-smile.
Now look at me. Intermediate class… I know to some, that’s like nothing, a formality. To me though? That’s huge. Because if nothing else… it means I’m not the new guy, not any more.
He looks almost… embarrassed.
People like Mariza, like Rab… It’s hard to get my head around… but I’ve actually been doing this longer than them. Mariza actually asked me to help her get her head around a hold last week. Me.
A shake of the head, as he chuckles to himself.
I’m not the new guy any more. Last Pride… I let myself get too wrapped up in how “big” my opponent was. I’m not saying I could have beat Hana if I was more confident… but I should have been, regardless. Hana. Keegan. Yes, these people have been here longer than me… yes they’ve had their own successes… but that doesn’t detract from my own. That doesn’t detract from the fact I need to be here… that I’ve earned my place here. That’s right, I’ve earned it.
Assertive. Assured. His face is the definition of confident.
Regardless of what people like Butcher may think… I wasn’t handed a place at this school. I took the physical, the same as everyone else. I did the tryout, the same as everyone else. They say I’ve had it easier? I’ve had it harder. Because not only have I had to prove just as much as anyone else I have what it takes to be here to the people who run the place, but I seem to have to prove it daily to my classmates. To the other guys who use the gym. To everyone who tunes in to Pride and just says “they’ve got a cripple now? That’s a cheap gimmick.” Guess what. It’s not a gimmick.
Josh reaches down. Pressing a release catch on his leg, he then pulls it free of the socket. He wobbles slightly, as he adjusts his balance to the one leg, presenting the prosthesis to the camera.
This is my life. This doesn’t make my life easier, regardless of whatever delusions about it some people have. This didn’t earn me my slot. This isn’t going to beat Keegan Hightower.
Reaching down once more, he locks the prosthetic back on it’s pin, the click audible to the camera, as he leans heavily on the leg to place it firmly.
Keegan… I never expected you to go easy on me. Regardless of my own… issues with the Baroness, I have never asked for an easy ride. I’ve put myself through the exact same challenges as everyone else, and never once asked for clemency.
A crack of the knuckles. A roll of the shoulders.
The story’s the same. You might want to win… but I need it. You lose, that means nothing to no-one. Keegan had a bad night. Josh got lucky. Whatever. If I lose?
A sneer, like a foul smell has drifted in.
They all get proved right. That I’m just a novelty. That I’m just here as some affirmative action. That I’ve not earned this.
A subtle shake of the head.
Be ready, Keegan. No attempts at quips. No funny puns. No “may the better man win” smiles. I need to win.
A deep sigh.
Time to actually start doing it.