Post by jdfranchise on Aug 19, 2014 23:24:37 GMT -5
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that SuperBrawl reminded me of the good things in this business. The crowd, as much as I’ve spoken about them being fickle over the years, bring an atmosphere that’s just crazy. Even after twelve years in this business, it’s still impossible to describe the feeling that you get, but I think now I can finally put it into words. Petrifying. It’s the dream that you’ve had all of your life coming true, and sitting there preparing you wonder if you’re truly prepared for it all. Anyone that says they don’t get that feeling should just go home and stay there.
I’ve performed on big stages all over the world, 100,000 in Cowboy’s Stadium, 75,000 in the Tokyo Dome, Madison Square Garden hell Sun Devil Stadium holds close to 90,000. I believe the only time I’ve ever been more nervous is when my son was born, because all you can think about is giving it everything you have and not ing it up.
I’ve missed that petrified feeling.
So what I can’t understand is how one can come into the biggest show of the calendar year and not leave it all in the ring? Pre-Show, opening match or main event, that’s what you get paid to do. And if one can’t handle that simple responsibility then they seriously need to reconsider their career path, don’t they? Maybe it’s because deep down, they want to save face. They want to believe that they are as good as they think they are.
Such delusional minds.
Weak.
Soft.
The very reason that a respected company like WFWF is struggling right now, because of bottom feeders with entitlement issues. Afraid to embrace the struggle, or better yet afraid to get their asses whipped in front of a worldwide audience. I’m probably the most honest wrestler on this roster, because I am willing to admit when I’ve been beat. I’m also willing to call crap out when I see it. So when I saw some people phone in their matches at SuperBrawl or acting like a sore loser after a great match, I had one question for myself.
Is this really what I came out of retirement for?
To sit and bear witness as people get gift wrapped opportunities only to piss them away, leaving the ones that actually care enough to give it their best effort holding the bag?
Hell no I didn’t. I came out of retirement for the matches with the David Brennan’s of the world. The matches to where I know that I’m going to take an ass kicking, but my opponent knows that’s what’s coming back their way. I came back because titles that used to mean the world to wrestlers are nothing more than a prop, a damn power play to hold those down who actually care enough to learn this craft and make a name for themselves much like I did a decade prior. And if the higher ups become complacent, it creates a trickledown effect. And I refuse to let another company that has meant so much to my career end up this way.
Here’s looking at you, Philip Schneider.
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My pleasure.
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July 4, 2014
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****
"So, this is what comes down to, huh?"
*****
*****
You will.
******
I’ve performed on big stages all over the world, 100,000 in Cowboy’s Stadium, 75,000 in the Tokyo Dome, Madison Square Garden hell Sun Devil Stadium holds close to 90,000. I believe the only time I’ve ever been more nervous is when my son was born, because all you can think about is giving it everything you have and not ing it up.
I’ve missed that petrified feeling.
So what I can’t understand is how one can come into the biggest show of the calendar year and not leave it all in the ring? Pre-Show, opening match or main event, that’s what you get paid to do. And if one can’t handle that simple responsibility then they seriously need to reconsider their career path, don’t they? Maybe it’s because deep down, they want to save face. They want to believe that they are as good as they think they are.
Such delusional minds.
Weak.
Soft.
The very reason that a respected company like WFWF is struggling right now, because of bottom feeders with entitlement issues. Afraid to embrace the struggle, or better yet afraid to get their asses whipped in front of a worldwide audience. I’m probably the most honest wrestler on this roster, because I am willing to admit when I’ve been beat. I’m also willing to call crap out when I see it. So when I saw some people phone in their matches at SuperBrawl or acting like a sore loser after a great match, I had one question for myself.
Is this really what I came out of retirement for?
To sit and bear witness as people get gift wrapped opportunities only to piss them away, leaving the ones that actually care enough to give it their best effort holding the bag?
Hell no I didn’t. I came out of retirement for the matches with the David Brennan’s of the world. The matches to where I know that I’m going to take an ass kicking, but my opponent knows that’s what’s coming back their way. I came back because titles that used to mean the world to wrestlers are nothing more than a prop, a damn power play to hold those down who actually care enough to learn this craft and make a name for themselves much like I did a decade prior. And if the higher ups become complacent, it creates a trickledown effect. And I refuse to let another company that has meant so much to my career end up this way.
Here’s looking at you, Philip Schneider.
*
Welcome to another edition of Sports Talk New York! I'm your host, Jack Michaels, and here today with me is former WFWF International Champion Josh Dean. Josh thanks for being on the show tonight.
My pleasure.
Okay so first off, what made you decide to return to the WFWF following your long absence?"
You know it was a combination of factors that lead me to come back, but let me first explain a couple things. I started wrestling in December 2000, so that put me at 14 years old. I wouldn't recommend this path for anyone. I had to make a lot of mistakes because I simply wasn't mature enough to handle what came with this life. Case in point is the way I left WFWF in the first place.
"What happened there."
I came to WFWF in January 2007, and in the amount of time I worked here, I had about the same amount of success as I did for BQWA, which was the other place I was working at the time. But both promotions were starting to really turn a corner and make some noise in the wrestling world and because of that, my name became more valuable because of all this new exposure, and essesntially both brands wanted to sign me to an exclusive contract. They knew about each other and it became a bidding war for me. Keep in mind I'm 21 years old at the time, and even with the success I had at that point, I didn't have a World Championship from either promtion to help in the negotiations, but the term being used a lot was 'can't miss prospect', which is just as valuable to a brand building its reputation. I often times look at the dilemma I had as a major reason I got into sports management after I initially retired. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.
Well we're going to take a quick commercial break. We'll be right back with Josh Dean. Stay tuned to Sports Talk New York.
*
May 20, 2014
Cincinnati, Ohio
"You know, I think you did a really good thing for that kid out there tonight." WFWF massage therapist Jada Rainey says as she began my doctor mandated session of therapy. "He had no idea what happened when they brought him back."
"I didn't do anything for him that I wouldn't do for another person in that situation." I say, attempting to relax the muscles in my neck. "Any word on him?"
"Well," Jada says as she initiates her deep tissue massage into the base of my neck, "I don't want to speculate on how badly Mason's hurt, but that arm looked gruesome and there was some pretty heavy bleeding coming from his mouth."
"Sounds pretty bad."
"Would've been worse if you didn't stop it." Jada says as she pulls on my deltoid muscle. "Schneider would've killed that kid in the ring if he could get away with it."
I knew his propensity for ultraviolence, and it honestly surprised me that he hasn't tried to cross that barrier after so many years of flirting with it. His next opponent may not be so fortunate.
Inhale, exhale, though its difficult to completely wind down after the adrenaline rush takes over. As I lay there on the table, I replay what I said to Phillip tonight over in my head.
Why don't you try that sh*t on me, someone who fights back!
Jada continues her work, but now every pull on my muscle causes me to tense up. She stops for a moment.
"Josh," she says to me as I turn my head to acknowledge her speaking, "you have to relax for the massage to be effective. If not, the muscles will work against the structure of your neck and you won't be able to function without severe pain."
"Sorry", I say as I turn my head forward, letting out a deep exhale. "I just hope that the kid's ok. He didn't deserve to be decimated like that. I remember when vets used to take young guys to the side and teach them how to conduct themselves professionally."
"Things have changed since you were last here."
Damn right they have. It wasn't that long ago, I was that kid who didn't know anything about professional conduct. The lessons I learned from those experiences weren't like the lessons that I learned in wrestling school. Luckily for me, I had a veteran take me to the side, jerk a knot in my ass and set me straight. I never got the chance to thank Wayne for that.
Seems like only yesterday.
"I suppose you're looking for me?"
Wayne lit a cigarette and turned his head over to find me coming into his office after our match on Felo de Se. "Glad you're still in the building."
"Don't we have a press conference for the pay per view," I retort back as I place an ice pack on my shoulder, taking the International Championship and resting it on my lap in plain view of Wayne as I sit down. "I am the International Champion, so I'd assume that I'm going to be on the show, you know, defending this."
"We've got people who can cover that for you." Wayne said, pulling the cigarette away from his lips. "I don't know how you guys could stand doing all that press stuff. Waste of time, if you ask me."
"I've never been a press kind of guy." I quip as I look him in the eyes. "But who am I to deny myself the chance to put more money in my pocket by helping sell this show."
"They help." Wayne had to nod in agreement due to having a family to look after. He takes the cigarette in for another drag. "So, our match tonight. How're you feeling?"
"I've been better,"I say, making a motion toward my shoulder. "You had the match well in hand, why continue to beat on me after the bell?"
"I went a little overboard back there, sorry about that." Wayne said, leaning over his desk to pour himself a glass of whiskey. "You thirsty?"
I nod as Wayne poured myself and him a drink.
He took a moment. "I needed a fight out there tonight. The moment I saw you out there, in that ring, I knew exactly what I was getting."
Wayne paused to take a drag off his cigarette. "I knew I was going to beat you- already knew how even before we locked up. I knew what you could do, but you didn't own up to what you promised yourself to be. You have your title and I'm glad you're happy... You shut up that Puerto Rican clown, so I'll give you that. But that title you have right now happens to be the best piece of leather and gold in our industry. Why? Because I made that happen and I want to be sure that the next guy holding that belt is worthy of keeping it."
"Is that a dig at me, Wayne?" I inquire, taking the ice pack off my shoulder. "Because if it is, I'm not in the mood for it. I'm sorry I had an off night, but I got a lot of crap on my mind right now."
"You don't think I've got my own crap to deal with?" Wayne shot back. "At least you've got people watching your back- people who will give to you straight when you need it. I don't have that right now in my life- it's just me and the world and this company. That's it."
Wayne was right and I knew it. I knew I had been fortunate enough to work side by side with some of the best in this industry, but it seemed to come at a price.
"This decision is so easy in my head, until I look at the numbers on the sheet." I hang my head low. "I'm not used to being courted like this. I grew up with nothing, and now I could have more money than I know what to do to do with."
"Don't piss it away." Wayne said, sipping his whiskey. "Save that up, spend it wisely and give yourself something to fall on if everything goes to hell."
Wayne took another drag. "I can't blame you for not wanting to really give it your all tonight. I've been there myself too, never really liked the way I felt in the morning afterwards."
"I know, and I'm pissed because I was trained better than this!" I exclaim as I knock back the whiskey double. "I guess this is what I get for working for two companies and trying to beat both drums."
"You're overworking yourself." Wayne said, leaning over. "You've got a lot going for you right now, but find your limit before someone else comes in and exploits it."
Looking at the International Championship, I mull over what Wayne is saying.
"It's hard to ignore the money and the promises being thrown my way." I say while motioning for another double shot. Wayne happily obliges and pours it. "But how should I handle this situation if in the event I take the money?"
"Save the money. Own up to your commitments and don't stretch yourself too thin." Wayne sipped his whiskey. "I did that and look where it led me now."
"I just...don't know what to do." I force out as I examine the whiskey double in my hand. "What would you do Wayne? You have family to consider."
"If it was me.", Wayne began. "I'd quit everything right now and retire. But for you... Stick to one promotion, find out what makes you happy and do your best but do not stretch yourself thin."
"Well, I have some decisions to make." I say before slamming another double shot. Gently placing the glass on the desk, I rise from the chair before throwing the International Championship over my shoulder. "But I'll do the right thing no matter what I decide."
Shortly after, I decided to let my contract expire. I agreed to drop the International Championship to Thunder as one of my last commitments to the company. It was the right thing to do. In hindsight, I made the wrong choice taking the money and decieved those who believed in my faith to this brand. In my youth money was what I thought would make me happy, and it wasn't until my return seven years later that I realized this was home. This was the right decision to make all along. This is where I was happiest.
A sharp pull on the strenocleidomastoid muscle snaps me back to present day where Jada is still talking as she continues to work.
"....it's nice to see a guy who still believes in paying it forward, even if it means he sticks his own neck out there for people who may not deserve it."
"I only stopped Schneider because it was the right thing to do."
"And in the process you put a hell of a bullseye on your back." She says, patting my back for me sit up. "I've seen what he's capable of doing to people when they pose a threat to him, like Hutton Brown. Ruined that boy's career."
I thought back to when I watched the Double Jeopardy match. Remembering the look of pleasure on Schneider's face gave me just as uneasy of a feeling then as it does now. Knowing that I'm the new target he has his twisted mind obsessing over, I can't let that happen to me.
I won't let that happen to me.
**
And we are back on Sports Talk New York, I'm here with WFWF superstar Josh Dean, and before the break we were talking about his return to the WFWF. So it came down to money?"
Absolutely. A lot of burnt bridges in this business stem from either money or creative direction. In my case, it was both, but at different times. So the money situation looked like this, WFWF offered offered me a cool 1 million per year baseline with 3% of all sales. That included pay per view cuts and merchandising. BQWA offered me 2.5 million per year flat and 6% of all merchandising sales. Now here's where my mistake comes into place. I was promised this, in fact I was promised all kinds of things that would justify the contract I took which never happened. They dragged their feet on an endorsement deal with Under Armour for three years until they were so far in the red that management needed it keep the company open another year. Who the f*ck does that? You know how most wrestlers get a new T-shirt design every 4 months or so? Yeah, try four years. I mean talk about screwing yourself and that guy out of money, but I couldn't do anything because I didn't want to breach my contract. I made the mistake of looking at the base salary instead of the potential money I could've made with WFWF.
I thought I had burnt that bridge is honestly why I stayed away as long as I did. So when BQWA closed its doors, I had matured enough by that point that I wanted compensated for their f*ck up. So I filed a class action suit against Busted Quad Entertainment for defamation of character and their own breach in contract in the amount I believed I was owed. I ended up with roughly 40 million and the full video library which valued at around 7 million. I took that money and invested it in Championship Connections so that other athletes wouldn't go through what I did. When I broke my neck in 2012, it seemed like the timing was right to step away and really focus on helping other athletes. I still followed the product to a degree, but not being involved from a performing standpoint made it easier to seperate myself from it. Lila Sleater started calling me around the beginning of the year and asked me if I'd be interested in coming back. Those negotiations went cold for a little bit because I really enjoyed being at home with my kids and Nikki, just living a normal life. But she was persistent and kept trying until I realized I missed it. So I got medically cleared and we reached an agreement shortly before SuperBrawl.
Fascinating and insightful information. Stay tuned folks, we're going to take another short commercial break. You're listening to Sports Talk New York.
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July 4, 2014
The Residence of David Brown
"Josh, we're going to set fireworks off in a few minutes."
Nikki, the kids, and I can't really celebrate Independence Day like a normal family anymore. Ever since I came out of retirement and Nikki started her career as a wrestler we, no matter how hard we try, don't live a normal life. We're constantly on the job even when we don't have a show, wether it's travel, media commitments, or the hours in the gym. She and I are always in demand, but we've managed to find a couple days to get away to see her dad for the holiday. Given the circumstances, it's honestly the best we can do.
Even with the free time to spend with the family, here I am cooped up in this office, too distracted by work to even enjoy it. It's the plight of being a provider, but at least I know I'm not alone.
"I'll be right there."
Sitting at the desk, I watch over the footage from my World Title match with Schneider in 2007, knowing that we are going to clash at this rate. I see that my phone is vibrating, which makes me believe we didn't go far enough off the grid to have privacy, ing top of the line cell phone service. I pause the film and let out a sigh before putting the phone on speaker, hoping to find out what's so damn important.
"Yeah?"
"Hey Josh, it's Kevin. You got a minute?"
Kevin Strauss is my business partner at the agency. When I came out of retirement, I left him in charge of day to day operations. He's an alright guy, but I don't trust that he's looking out for the best interests of anyone but himself based on the number of e-mails I've recieved recently from clients leaving for new management. There's something about him now more than ever that screams snake, the kind of agent who gives sports agents a bad name.
"This really isn't the best time Kevin," I say to him, hoping to rush him off the phone. "The family and I are about to set off some fireworks and I'm a little worn down, so unless it's really important, please be brief."
"That's why it's the perfect time for me to get a hold of you," he said to me in the hopes that I'll stay on the line so he could ramble about money and the athletes we missed out on. I knew his spiel. "Listen, I know that your heart isn't into the agency, what with wrestling coming back into your life..."
Well, you certainly didn't take long, did you?
"Whoa, whoa Kevin," I interject, "Let me stop ya before you get on a roll. I hope this isn't another lame ass attempt of convincing me to sell the controlling interest of the agency. I already told you two weeks ago, the last time you made a pitch, I'm not interested."
"Josh will you give me a chance to express my concerns?" Kevin says trying to swing the conversation back to business. "It's just I worry about the agency's image with the leader deciding to wrestle again."
"And how is that any different than the dozens of MMA fighters or Motocross riders we've taken on over the past two years?" I say to him, shutting his point down before he could really get started. "I started this agency with one goal, and one goal only. To get ALL athletes fair representation."
"Oh save the nobility speech, Josh," Kevin hisses to cut me off. "You started the agency because a doctor told you that you shouldn't wrestle because of your neck. And then the second he clears you, here you go running back to the first company willing to negotiate with you."
"First of all, you didn't just interrupt me," I say to him, thus informing this annoying pissant who's still in charge while unpausing the video. "Second, when I started this agency, it was because I was certain my career was over and I was smart enough to save my money back. I wanted to help set athletes up for after they retire because so many of them don't get that chance before they end up broke. These guys and girls work their asses off to live the privilege of being a professional athlete, and as long as they're signed with me and my agents, they won't be taken advantage of."
Here's a little more truth for your trash, dipsh*t.
"But you wouldn't know anything about that because you're not an athlete Kevin, let alone an athlete who competes at the highest caliber of their sport. It's easy for you to sit there behind the comfort of a desk and talk about the image of a company that makes the lifestyle you have possible."
"Ok, I can see we're getting a little heated, so I'm just going to come out and say it," He says to me, trying to change his tone to a softer approach. "I believe we need to think about a different direction in order to land bigger name clients, and I'm not the only one who thinks that."
"Really? I would've never guessed you felt that way." I say to him as I roll my eyes, bored with this back and forth. "Listen, Kevin. This is how it is. This is my agency, my intellectual property, and unless I sense the need for an overhaul we continue business by the initial vision. While you may run day to day operations right now; it is my money that funds this and not yours. That means my money pays your paychecks if you can't gain commission. So, unless you're willing to offer something better than the low ball price you gave last time to get me considering selling I suggest you get brushed up on the mission statement and let me get back to my family."
"We're prepared to offer seventy million for the controlling interest." Kevin says and I can't blame the guy for trying to throw such a large number out there. "Seventy million dollars and you can walk away to salvage what's left of your wrestling career."
I smirk. God I'm really regretting going into business with this guy.
"If you call being a top talent in the biggest promotion in the world salvaging, Kevin, then you keep telling yourself that." I say to him as I take the phone off speaker and prepare to end the call. "We've got a show in Charlotte here in a few days and then we'll be home for about a week. You'll have your chance to make a case, but I would be wise to remember who's career and reputation need salvaged if I were you."
Without another word, I press the end button on the call. Shaking my head, I stand up from the desk just as Ray Mano says in the background "Obo has done it! He has defeated Josh Dean and is still the World Heavyweight Champion!" Walking toward the door I open it, glancing over my shoulder while the announcers from WFWF at the time continue to put ole Philbo over. I walk out of the office, feeling my face turn into a sneer. The sickening feeling boiling in my stomach is like a volcano ready to explode all over Phillip Schneider and leave this so called "Prophet" buried under ash.
"No you didn't, and I'll prove it."
I know that I'll have that opportunity.
"Josh, are you coming?"
I see Nikki approaching me as I make my way into the hallway. I try to put on my most jovial face, but she can see right through it.
"You ok?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." I say as she strokes my hair. My eyes drop. "I just had one of those really annoying phone calls."
"Who was it?"
"F*cking Kevin trying to get me to sell."
"How much did he offer you this time?" Nikki asks me as her hand caresses my face. "You know we talked about keeping the agency for the boys."
"I know and I made that crystal clear to him." I say as we turn to walk outside. "I want the boys to have options with their lives, like you had."
"Honey," she says to me as she takes my hand, "that's what makes you the good man I fell in love with. You put the needs of others before your own. Sure I had options, but honestly Josh, I wouldn't be here having this conversation if it weren't for you."
It always good to know that someone loves you, and even better to understand why.
"Thank you," I say to her, while reflecting on some of the bad choices I've made in life. "I hope you know it means a lot."
"I know you had a rough upbringing," Nikki says as she kisses me on the cheek. "but you turned out pretty well."
Sometimes great things seem too good to be true. I take my free hand and put in on my forehead in frustration.
"This thing with Kevin is the last thing we need as a distraction before we go into very important matches." I say to Nikki, referencing our respective placement in the National Championship tournament. "We need to be on point to be successful and injury free."
"Maybe you need to think about a different direction with the agency, one that doesn't involve Kevin Strauss." She says as turns my attention through the glass door at her dad playing with boys. "And I think we may have just found his replacement."
"Your dad," I inquire as my father in law turns his attention to the grill. "But isn't he an electrician?"
"You forget three things about my dad," she starts, opening the door to the porch. "He's good with numbers, excellent with people, and he knows a thing or two about contracts."
Leaning against the rail, I contemplated the options, weighing the consequences of a decision that could leave a bunch of people without work.
"It would cut down on expenses in the event we need electrical repairs done." I smirk, which draws a giggle from Nikki. "Seriously though, it'll take my mind off worrying about someone trying to undercut the investment that I've made. Plus, it keeps the agency in the family for the kids to do with as they please when they're ready."
"Not to mention, you can focus on getting things done in the ring, like this thing with Phillip Schneider."
"Yeah."
There's a brief moment of silence between the two of us.
"Aren't you worried about Phillip Schneider?"
"I'll get my chance to settle this issue with him in due time," I say while pushing myself up off the rail. "Right now, I'm getting tough matchups every show and I can't be bothered by every little thing he does. When mine or anyone I'm close to's safety is in jeopardy is when I'll handle it."
"Ok," Nikki says before accompanying her dad. "I know that you have a plan."
"Always do." Drake carries his brother over to the table as Nikki starts bring food over. I retrieve my cellphone. "Hey, go ahead and start eating, I gotta make a call."
I walk inside the door and redial the number that called me. I put it on speaker.
"Hello?"
"Hey Kevin, it's Josh."
"Oh hey! Man that was quick. Did you think about the proposal?"
"I did," I say with a smile on my face. "and you're right. A new direction is needed."
"Oh that's great, Josh." Kevin says as his excitement is evident through the tone of his voice. "So, I'll just have my lawyers draw up the papers and..."
"Well actually Kevin," I interject. "Lawyers won't be needed. Because that new direction doesn't include you. My father in law David will be taking over day to day operations effective immediately. So I expect you to have your office cleared out by end of business Monday."
"Josh, please reconsider this." Kevin says as he tries so desperately to keep his job. "We're partners man."
"Well Championship Connections has made its money by being a family oriented company to its clients and employees, and you are not family." I say as I take the phone off speaker and head back toward the porch. "I'll say it again, you're fired."
Click.
***
Welcome back listeners, I'm Jack Michaels here with Josh Dean. So you have your own agency, Championship Connections. Mind explaining to us how you started it and what exactly you do there?
In 2010, my career was starting to get pretty stagnant, and by that point, I'd been wrestling for about ten years. Injuries started piling up little by little and I started thinking about what I could do with all this money I made, because I knew I wasn't getting any younger. Trust me, it sounds so odd to say that at 24-25 like I was at the time because by normal convention at that age most people are graduating college and have probably 35 years of work ahead of them before they can enjoy retirement. So I decided to invest in a good cause by helping up and coming athletes get the most out of their careers.
So basically we help these guys get paid and set them up for after their playing days are over. Lets face it, most athletes are pretty ing stupid and don't think that far ahead to invest. Then you get these agents who get these guys the multimillion dollar contracts so they can take them for what they're worth at the end of the day. So I was sitting at home one day watching Sportscenter and saw how many NBA teams were trying to get in bed with LeBron James and it dawned on me, what about the little guys? So when I started putting more ideas together for Championship Connection, I wanted to do something that other agencies weren't doing, which is pursuing athletes of all sports and skill levels for our brand to represent. With that model, we get to focus on helping the athlete instead of our wallet.
"So how is business right now?"
Currently, we're undergoing some changes to our management structure as my father in law, David Brown, is taking over daily operations. I could've hired from outside the company or my family to fill the vacancy, but I trust his approach of treating hard working people the right way.
Hear that radio land, take care of your family, including your in laws. We'll be right back after these messages.
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The Johns Hopkins Hospital
Baltimore, Maryland
August 2, 2014
"This is all my fault."
Awaiting word on a friend's condition is always a trying time. And I can't help but feel responsible for what happened to Dave. The powerbomb was my doing. While Dave said it was an accident, it was the domino that started the effects of what followed.
"It wasn't your fault, Josh." Nikki says while adjusting the stiff hallway bench. "You couldn't predict something like that happening."
"I may have not hit Dave with the chair," I say as I begin to pace back and forth. "But Dave would've been able to defend himself had I not dropped him on his head three times. I made him a sitting target."
"You both were out there competing. You've even said before that things happen no matter how careful you are."
I did say that, but this time it's different. I don't go out to the ring with the intentions of injuring an opponent, and I couldn't keep Dave safe from Schneider's attack.
"It's just..." I struggle to find the words to describe my guilt, "I promised to have Dave's back, and I didn't when I should have."
"Listen to yourself." Nikki says, keeping her calm. "I swear, I'm about to take you to the psych ward and get your head checked because you've fallen off your rocker."
"Sometimes it may not be a bad thing."
"Josh, this isn't the way." Nikki says as she gets off the bench, grabbing me and hugging me tightly. "He's trying to bait you into being off your game. You've got him in New York, so calm down."
Calm down, if only it were that easy. Our friend is in that room and we have no idea what his condition is. I can't bear to see him like this because it'll probably trigger my anger even more. Although I don't believe pacing back and forth like a raving lunatic is much more productive. My head hits the palms of my hands as I slide down the wall and slump in the floor.
"Dave took the bullet for me out there, and I feel like I haven't given anything in return."
"You knew what to do when he blacked out at the bar. You picked him up, put him in the car and drove him here." Nikki said before grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet. "If you weren't a friend, you wouldn't have done that."
"What kind of friend am I?" I say while running my fingers through my hair. "The one who picks up the pieces after the damage has been done?"
"You're a better friend than Schneider."
Nikki and I look up simultaneously as the door closes. Penny has joined us in the hallway. She's smiling, which is a positive sign on an otherwise bleak night.
"Penny," I exclaim while walking over to Penny, before she and Nikki bombard me with a group hug. "How is he?"
"Well it's a concussion, pretty good one at that." Penny states as the three of us break our embrace before slapping me playfully on my chest. "Now, why the f*ck are you sitting around moping?"
"This could've been prevented, Penny." I say, shaking my head in disgust of the situation. "Now Dave's opportunity of getting back something that means the world to him is in serious f*cking jeopardy. A friend doesn't do that to another friend."
"At least you're giving him a chance." Penny shot out. "Which is more than I can say for some. You didn't leave him out to dry to get carved like a turkey. You didn't use and abuse him, only to drop him when your needs were satisfied. No, you went to bat for him."
I'm still not sure what to think of everything that went down tonight. But its simple really, I laid down the gauntlet, he answered and I responded. I shouldn't feel bad, but yet I do because Dave is in that room as a result.
"I just want to hurt Schneider so badly."
"And you will at the Garden. All this crap he's put you through, you can give it back to him and then some."
"Listen Josh," Penny begins as she points to my head. "You're in his head because you haven't backed down from him. He's not used to that. He's used to people being afraid of what might happen and beating themselves before getting in the ring."
"I can put an end to this." I say before turning my attention to Nikki. "I'm just afraid of what I'll have to do in order to finish it."
"Afraid of what you'll have to do?"
Call it Nikki's inexperience in the wrestling business, but I'm glad that she doesn't understand what I mean. Penny does, however, which is why she is slowly nods in agreement.
"I'll need to go into a dark part of my mind that I put away a long time ago." I state. My hands are shaking from anger and guilt all rolled into one. "It's been sitting there, dormant, because I didn't like the monster it made me. Everything I've done so far has been for survival."
"Well, you're gonna have to get over that sh*t." Penny says while stroking Nikki's hair. "Because he won't stop coming after you in some way unless you make him."
Penny pauses.
"You two really should go home and spend time with the kids." Penny turns to Nikki and kisses her on the cheek. "Being here is not doing him any good. I'll stay here with Dave and keep you posted."
She turns to me, looking me in the eyes before pulling me down by the head and kissing my forehead.
"You're a good man, Josh. But you know what needs to be done."
"I know." I say while taking Nikki's hand. She turns toward me with a concerned look etched on her face. "I just hope that when this is over, you'll be able to look at me the same way."
.****
You were very adamant on facing Dave Demento at Up The Garden Path. What is your relationship with Dave? Does his concussion worry you at all?
Listen, I don't have a whole lot of friends in the wrestling business because anymore it seems like everyone is out to serve their own devices. That being said, Dave is on the shortlist of people I legitimately consider a friend. He found in his time away that he's a stand up guy and one hell of a competitor. I met Dave at an independent show in 2011 before he signed with WFWF and I knew from the second I met him he was good people, and you know they say like minded people gravitate toward each other. That's what happened here even though we haven't spoken in a while until recently. I think it scared certain people in particular positions that he and I reconnected our friendship, because we were put into a match with each other with suspiciously convenient timing. So Dave and I were at my house, kicking back and having a couple beers when we got the notification via text, because who uses computer paper anymore, to inform us that we had a match against each other. So I call Mike Ratliff, who's in charge of production and Dave calls Lila Sleater to see if this perhaps is a miscue, only to find it wasn't. The funny thing is, there was no justification behind the booking. Smart people know that Dean versus Demento is a matchup worthy of something like SuperBrawl. However Dave and I are professionals, so we agreed to go out and put on a great match for the fans.
Somewhere in the middle of the match I hit him with a sunset flip powerbomb to the outside and I was immediately concerned because of the way he landed. When Dave kept fighting through it, there was some relief because I thought he recovered. Until that chair shot.
So when did you get news of the injury?
Dave wouldn't have found out that he had a concussion if Nikki and I hadn't taken him to the hospital. That's what really worries me about this cage match he's been given the green light to compete in, is simply Dave's too proud to admit that he's hurt. Demon's lapdog hasn't ate in a while and that scares me because cage matches are not something to take lightly when you're healthy, much less being spaced out like he currently is.
You mentioned the match, who do you believe ordered the match?
Demon man. He's the only one with the authority to influence that call. But despite having that kind of authority, I really don't believe he's smart enough to think this one up all by himself. And who stood the most to gain from this beside the Demon parade? None other than Phillip Schneider. In fact, let me give you the synopsis of how that conversation probably went:
Hey Trace, its Phil.
What the f*ck do you want Phil?
How bout you put Demento and Dean in a match against each other at the next show?
I don't know Phil, they could end up stealing the show over Dex and my hand picked lapdog.
Well, they could beat the sh*t out of each other and it eliminates all our threats uhuhuhuh.
Then the lightbulb kicks in because it isn't that hard to identify with any villain's motives in TV, movies, or in business. These mother*ckers will use whatever means they can to give themselves the path of least resistance, only to take all the credit for their triumphs. They though Dave and I would be petty children and stop being friends because we're both proud individuals who desire to be the best. I guess that blew up in their faces when I flew over the ropes onto ole Philbo, then gave him a little taste of what's going to happen at the Garden.
Who else would find themselves on your shortlist of friends?
Penny Shannon is someone that has really developed a good relationship with Nikki since she started wrestling, so that earns her points in my book. She's made her fair share of mistakes, but who hasn't. The important thing is she's owned it and is working hard to improve herself as a person. My old tag team partner Jason Storm is about the only other person I consider in that circle. You get very close to someone when you spend every day together and that's what happened. When Nikki and I got married he was my best man, and it's a good thing we had a small, private ceremony because I didn't have a lot of choices. Everyone else ended up being either an acquaintance or someone who did something to make me stop my association with them. People are too fake anymore.
And the hits keep on coming. We'll be right back talking Battle at the Garden with WFWF superstar Josh Dean after a word from our broadcast partners at NBC.
****
August 8, 2014
Dean Residence
Atlanta, Georgia
The kids don't seem to mind being on the road, and by my estimation they're adjusting pretty well. I don't worry so much about Hunter, being as young as he is, he'll grow to expect this as normalcy.
Drake seems to be having the time of his life being out on the road with us, and is adjusting far better than I expected. The life on the road doesn't warrant a lot of time for friends, which he needs at this point in his life. Sure he gets to say to the friends he has back home that his parents are celebrities and the boys in the back treat him well, but it isn't the same as being around kids his own age. Nikki and I try the best we can to keep him in contact with his friends at home, so we bought all the kids phones and put them on our plan. We promised to show our boys the world, and we've held true to that. However, its nice to go home every once in a while. That's why he was stoked when I promised to take him fishing today.
Up before the sun, I already packed everything we'd need for the day last night. Sitting down with a cup of coffee and my laptop, I review the Twisted match. He felt so weak and really had nothing to offer me as he ran for cover under the safety of the ring. I feel a tap on my shoulder.
"Hey Dad, you ready to go?"
I didn't notice him come into the room. The sound of tackle rattling around in its box should've been my hint, much like a white light that formed before the fireball came whizzing by my face was my hint at Twisted. I hope that he didn't see anymore of the confrontation before I had a chance to shut the program off.
"Yeah buddy." I say with a cool tone. "I'm just going to fill up a mug and then we'll hit the road. Did you kiss Mom and bubby?"
"They're still asleep," Drake mumbles, glancing down at the laptop. He saw what I wanted to protect him from, "and I didn't want to wake them."
"Ok."
I get up from the sofa and walk into the kitchen, thinking of hundreds even thousands of questions he's going to ask me about what he saw.
"Can we go to McDonald's on the way to Lake Allatoona?" Drake says as he follows me in the kitchen. "I'm hungry."
"Sure buddy," I say is a put the cap on my coffee mug. "Now all we need is just to put the stuff in the truck and we're all set."
"Finally!" Drake said as he sprinted into the den, "I got my stuff, let's go!"
I can assume that he's mature enough to understand that the world is filled with shades of grey, but this is appropriately painted black and white and it will be washed in blood at the Garden.
We loaded up the truck and took off towards the lake. Drake slept the whole way there, which left me alone in my thoughts. The different weapons Philbo and I will use to batter each other with for the sole purpose of forcing a verbal submission out of one another in the most unforgiving ways. I need this fishing trip as much as Drake to maintain my humanity. Despite having a boat, fishing on the bank is a kind of pure I desire in lieu of what looms on the horizon. The sun peaks over the rolling hills as we cast our first lines in the lake.
"Thanks for breakfast, dad." Drake says as he takes a bite out of his biscuit, "I'm glad that we're doing this."
"I am too."
"Did you know I'm writing a story?"
"No I didn't buddy," I say as I set my line. "but please, tell me about it."
"It's about a boy who finds out that he's next to be king." Drake starts as he examines his line by watching the bobbing float on the water's surface. "He's been given all these cool powers, but he has to go on this big journey so he can become king. Pretty cool huh?"
More like ironic. It was almost as if he were writing the story of my life. Blessed with immense talent, work ethic, and heart, ruling the wrestling landscape was simply a coronation. However in the pursuit of my crown I've been on one f*cking trippy journey in preparation for what being king would throw at me. In turn, it has made me grow much wiser than the twenty eight years I've been on this Earth. The fact that my son can capture something this complex without realizing it is a prime example of his perceptive nature.
"Yeah buddy, that's pretty cool."
"I'll let you read it when I'm finished with it." Drake says as he sees his bobbing float go under the water's surface. "I got one!"
"Alright!" I exclaim, rushing over to him. "Now, reel it in at a steady pace. We don't want him getting away."
"Come on fishy." Drake says as he reels the fish to the surface. As its head pops out of the water, his eyes light up. "Holy crap! It's huge!"
"Ok, pull him to the bank and I'll help you get him off the line."
Drake pulls the fish to the bank. It flops around on the ground aimlessly as I grab a hold of it by the body.
"The hook is stuck pretty deep Drake." I say as I motion him over. "Hold onto his body and I'll work the hook free."
Drake grabs hold of the fish's body and I move upward to where the line meets the hook. Gently, I move the hook out from the side of the mouth. The fish writes around, causing Drake to lose control as I pull the hook out. The hook slices across the palm of my hand, taking a large portion of skin and covering my hand in blood. Drake looks at my hand and immediately starts to panic.
"Are you ok, dad?"
"Yeah buddy, it's just a little blood." I say as I walk over to the first aid kit and grab the medical tape. "I'll be fine."
"Just like you'll be ok when you fight that guy with the knife?"
There is the question I was afraid he would ask. They say ignorance is bliss, but Drake is too observant to passify with just a simple response. Makes me wonder how Wayne explained it to Scarlett.
"So big match tonight, Wayne?" I say as soon as see him upon entering the locker room. Wayne is taping up his knee in preparation for his upcoming title match. "Ready for it."
"Last shot at the title.", Wayne said, nodding as he gestured at me to come over. Vanessa sat on the other end of the locker room, locking her arms together as she watched her husband- a nervous look across her face.
"So, this is what comes down to, huh?"
"Pretty much." I say before sitting my bag down. "Looks like it's a last for both of us tonight."
Wayne nods now as he tugs the legs of his jeans back down, nudging at his leg to make sure his knees felt as secure as he needed them. "I've been saying that for a long time." Wayne lights a cigarette.
"I just can't believe that this is my last night under contract." I say while opening the duffle. "Kinda bittersweet."
"It could be worse.", Wayne said, standing up now as he offered the pack to me. "Honestly, I don't see this night ending well for myself. I'd rather just skip ahead to waking up in agony tomorrow."
"Jesus, Wayne." Vanessa scoffed. "Don't talk like that."
"Whoa whoa big man," I say as I stand up from the chair. "You sound like Custer before his last stand. I nearly beat Obo months ago and I'm not nearly as savvy as you out there."
"I can the same thing about you." Wayne smiles, titling his head as he lets a cloud of smoke escape his lips. "I can feel it now, I'm on my last stand. This is the beginning of my end."
"I've made peace with my decision to go back." I retort as I reach down to pull my boots out. "It is just a better situation for me financially. I don't plan on being a single kid forever."
"You don't seem like the top." Wayne said, bringing the cigarette close to his lips. "I guess for the both of us, this is it. I'm beat up, I'm tired... I don't know anymore."
Vanessa came close and held her husband tight.
"I like being the top guy." I say, slightly offended by Wayne's insinuation. "I just want to put back a nest egg for when I do have a family. I want to do this and be the best, but I don't want it to define me. I don't want to end up like Obo."
"But that's the thing right there.", Wayne said, pulling the cigarette away from his lips. "You get into a ring with a guy like Obo and there ain't no way you're walking away the same. This is fifth time I am meeting him in a match, you'd think we'd know better."
"So how do you explain that to Scarlett?"
Wayne stopped where he was and chuckled. "I don't know, I'll tell her about it when the time is right I guess. Her future is going to be spent here, might as well give her an idea of what to expect."
I would go on to fulfill my required booking that night, losing to Calvin Lee in the Survival of the Fittest opening round. It would be almost seven years before I stepped foot in a WFWF ring again.
"Dad?"
I blink, bringing me back to the here and now, with Drake staring at me with a cross look.
"Sorry buddy, kinda zoned out there for a minute."
"I asked you if you were going to be ok when you fight against that guy with the knife."
"Yeah," I say, pulling him close to me for a hug. "I'll be alright."
"Are you scared?"
"A little bit."
"I would be." Drake says, grabbing his pole and casting his line back out into the lake. "He looked like he wanted to hurt you."
"He does," I say to him as I briefly examine my bloody wrapped hand. "There's no reason for me to lie about it."
"Are you going to hurt him too?"
I worry about is some of the actions that I'll have to carry out in the ring for victory or defend the things I believe in. It's my responsibility to teach him how to be a man since his sperm donor deceives him into believing he's been kept away or that he's infinitely busy, when in reality he couldn't be bothered to adhere to something he knows crap about.
He reminds me ole Philbo, which is all the more reason to detest him. As if I didn't already have sufficient motivation.
"If I have to." I say to him while pulling my line from the water. "There are some things that are worth protecting, and I'm willing to risk my health to do it."
I just don't know if he can understand why I'll have to do these things when Phillip Schneider and I inevitably clash. Back when I first faced Schneider, I didn't have to worry about how another person would see me because I had no one else to worry about except myself and protecting my own best interests to make sure my hard work would stand the test of time. I started thinking about Samantha, and her witnessing the disgusting things her father did to strike fear into the locker room. As a parent, I feel that I am the example of how my kids should carry themselves in this world. What kind of example does he set for her? Or an even worse scenario, has she become so accustomed to seeing it that she believes its acceptable behavior?
Has she become just another person that drinks the Kool Aid?
The fireball and exacto knife incident has me reflecting about the kind of man I'm going to be fighting at the Garden. As I sit here watching this film over and over again in my head, I feel unsatisfied for what I did to him after he interfered in mine and Dave's match. Normally, chucking a guy off the stage would satisfy that animalistic instinct of survival. But I still fill malnourished, like these brief skirmishes are just an appetizer designed to whet the appetite before the juicy T-Bone steak.
I'm hungry, and it's time I ate.
*****
Alright, this Sports Talk New York. I'm Jack Michaels, he's Josh Dean and we're talking about Battle of the Garden with a huge card, headlined by a four way World Title match and Josh's I Respect You showdown against Phillip Schneider. But first, what do you think of current WFWF World Champion Dex?
I don't think of him. In fact if it wasn't for the title he holds right now, I'd probably ask you to repeat his name because it wouldn't register. Which is sad because I'm sure that I'm not the only one that feels that way in the locker room. But I've been in the ring with Dex fairly recently and I can say that the guy has some talent, although not enough to justify the decision to put the belt on him at this moment. Beating an over the hill legend and winning a handicap match against me when my partners fought like they barely had a pulse is not a fair assessment of his long term ability to stick around and improve. Now addressing that situation, its unfortunate that Shawn Malakai's health is declining at the rate that it is. I like Shawn, but I think he wasn't in his right mind to pick a successor. Promotions all over the world get shut down all the time because they let talent pick spots for their buddies and that choice isn't up to snuff. WFWF is fortunate enough to have a fairly deep roster to hide the glaring weakness in our championship scene. They've also been smart enough to realize the mistake by booking him winnable situations to keep him looking strong until the appropriate time to send the whole thing crashing down on his head.
The kicker is that none of this is really Dex's fault aside from the ego he could gain by having the whole world shoved in your face. He just happens to be the rare victim in a right place, right time scenario.
Your wife, Nikki Dean, is competing in a three way match for the vacant National Championship. Does she have it in her to win it? What do you think of her opponents?
One thing that people tend to overlook about Nikki where she is a beautiful woman is that she can fight. She is a legitimate and well respected black belt in Tae Kwon Do and anyone that has ever trained in any martial arts discipline knows that black belts aren't just handed out like candy. But because wrestling has always possessed a boy's club mentality, she gets passed off as arm candy. In reality, I'd like to see any of the guys in the locker room push out an eight pound baby without epidural and tell me how they feel. They wouldn't handle it with a tenth of the grace she handled giving birth to our son Hunter. So she has more than enough capabilities to win this match because she's more than beauty, she's just as tough and has the intelligence to do her homework on Shapiro and Justin Tyger. As far as my thoughts on her opponents, I think that Shapiro showed a lot of potential when he faced Nikki the first time and I'm glad to see he didn't give up after that loss. Tyger, I respect the hell out of his service for this country. It's a cliche in this industry to use the word war when describing a competitive contest, but it pales in comparison to what Tyger has seen defending our colors. But if I can be frank, a guy with his experience should be positioned much higher on the card than what he is and it confuses me about the guy. I don't know if it's a mental block he's got going on, but he needs to get it in check before he falters to the expectations others have set for him.
The situation with the National Title is very similar to the World Title situation, because it could've been handled much differently in my opinion. Drakz and Schneider didn't need the belt to still have a billed dream match. In fact, how a Hall of Famer and forner World Champion such as Reverend Shadow was reduced to competing for this title is still beyond me. I hate saying that because if it were handled differently, Nikki wouldn't have this great opportunity to showcase her skill set, Tyger probably wouldn't be here as we speak, and it would be another year or so of dark matches and preshows for Shapiro before he'd be ready. So I guess there is some silver lining there.
Heading into Battle at the Garden, in each of the matches, who do you see being victorious?
You know, Battle at the Garden is shaping up to be as exciting of a card as this company's ever put on. It's got a great mix of young and old talent, but there are some matches that I have some vested interest in. Like the four way for the World Title. There's so many factors there...is Dex for real? How is Garrett going to factor into a match where his butt buddy has something that he covets, or will he be too busy neutralizing Drakz? Can Demon rebound after SuperBrawl? So many questions that need answers, but if pressed to pick a winner, I think Drakz has the upper hand. He's on the hottest streak and the least distracted.
Looking at the rest of the card, I think my friend Dave Demento will win the cage match. He and I have talked many of times since the match was officially made and one thing that hasn't been affected by his concussion is his focus on the objective. He's convinced the International Title is still his, and I think a wounded animal is the most dangerous. Yukio...
Josh, the International Champion is Joe Bishop.
Really? I thought he killed himself. My mistake, but it just goes to show how little I like his chances. Its hard to take a guy seriously when he's content on being a lackey. Dave may be hurt, but nevertheless, I stand by my pick because he wants it more.
I have the Dragon over Kyle Matthews. Anytime you have a cracked out Mini Me and a seven foot wrecking machine as your opponent, bad things will happen. Now Kyle Matthews has a lot of heart standing up to the biggest dog in the yard, but Dragon has tunnel vision and that will be what gets it done for him.
A guy that I'm keeping my eye on is Daniel Kirkbride. The kid is young, fast, and has a win over Nikki, which is no easy feat. Ten years ago, this match with Gabriel Black is much different than how it will be at the Garden. As it stands, Kirkbride has a lot of momentum beating who I believe will be the new National Champion. He's too young, too explosive and has too much to prove, although I wouldn't count out the veteran. But from where I sit, he just looks complacent, like his life's goal was just to make it here. No offense to a fellow veteran but if you aren't still hungry to be Heavyweight Champion, then it's time to go. That's part of the reason I came back, that's the reason Drakz got healthy. That's why we all should be here.
I have Penny beating DevilKiller, and no that isn't biased. That's simply off the fact Penny is a much more complete wrestler and athlete than DevilKiller, and just as mean. Penny has one glaring strength that DevilKiller lacks, and that's polish. He's a big, raw kid that has upside, but he hasn't faced the same level of competition Penny has and that's the X-factor here.
Finally, Ante Witner is a guy that I think has the potential to be a long term player in this business. He has that intensity about him that I love seeing young guys come in with. I don't know anything about either opponent short of both guys looking like a couple of brooding fellas. I think the guy that has the most to prove here is Thornstowe after that abomination of a performance he had in Baltimore. It's a pick 'em, but I'm going with the most proven in Witner.
I noticed you left your match out of the predictions.
That's because I have a lot more to say on the topic.
And we'll hear those thoughts when we return after word from Jimmy Johns.
*****
Outside Madison Square Garden
New York, New York
August 22, 2014
Having just landed in the Big Apple yesterday, I haven't had much of a chance to get settled. My nerves are something completely different than the last time I competed in this arena. It isn't the fact that I'm in a featured match because I've done that. It isn't due to my opponent being a psychopathic piece of garbage that wants to attempt some Buffalo Bill crap, because it will not put the lotion on the skin. I've been there and done that. I feel calm in spite of these factors and that's what's unsettling; how easy it's been to become the person I've grown to despise. This match is going to be violent, and I have no choice in the matter but to embrace it. I called for this match, so I need to sleep in the bed that I've made.
I can't help but think about what's going to go down during the match, and what it might take to get him to see that he's been wrong this entire time. It's said that the first step to fixing a problem is admitting it exists, and my problem is Phillip Schneider's existence causes me to revert back to a time when I wasn't so evolved. It's become a big f*cking nuisance in the life that I'm living now, the life of honor, class, and dignity.
I haven't slept very well ever since the match was made. Every time I try to sleep, all I can think about is him. I find myself obsessing over possible ways to inflict lasting damage upon Philip's carcass. I had a dream last night where I made him bite the curb. The sounds of his facial bones crunching under the force of my boot made me wake up with a smile on my face.
"This isn't me."
No matter how many times I try to tell myself otherwise, these sordid images keep littering my mind over and over again.
I can hear faint screams becoming louder as Schneider crawls for cover up the ramp a bloody mess as I stalk behind him weilding his favorite toy, a razor blade steel chair covered in blood. A stomp on his heel and Schneider shrieks with a blood curling cry of agony as the smile becomes wider on my face.
Alecia Matthews: Josh Dean has snapped! Keep in mind this match is over, but I think he's dead set on finishing it now once and for all!
Cameron Stone: The look in his eyes makes me uncomfortable, and that's saying something!
Schneider turns around and scoots on his ass and I stomp the other ankle. He grabs his ankle as he continues to get away. Finally he's at the top of the stage, right where I want him. A kick to the knees and I feel a sense of joy in methodically watching this false prophet squirm.
"This is for what you did to Dave!" I shout before driving the chair into his knee, effectively stopping Schneider's movement as the razors grate across his exposed skin. "You f*cked with the wrong person's friend."
Schneider begs me to stop, although I can't hear his words through the ruckus crowd. If I let him go now, it will eat at me. My anger has forced me to see tunnel vision with one objective, burning the visage of Phillip Schneider to the ground and leaving scorched earth in my wake. One shot with the chair across the back as he turns and I have him prone on the steel face down ass up, just as a bitch like him should be before getting their fate. I get close to his ear, grabbing his hair so that he can understand clearly what awaits him.
"Your tainted victory over me." I say as I sit the chair down, opening it with just enough space to fit his head. "Making me wait seven years while you deceive and destroy good people's careers. It's time you learn who the better man has always been. Put your mouth on the blade."
The blood loss is causing him to slip in and out of consciousness. I stand up and stomp his lacerated back, causing him to jolt up in pain.
"I said put it on the f*cking blade!" I howl at Schneider before shoving his head into the chair's opening. "Don't worry, it'll be all over in a second."
Alecia Matthews: I hope Josh isn't going to do what I think he's planning guys, because I can't watch!
"Now say bye bye."
The crowd's roar begins sounding similar to honking horns as I stand and prepare to deliver that fatal blow. Flashing lights from thousands of cameras blind me temporarily but effectively. Closing my eyes, I shake my head to clear the painful distraction. When I reopen them, I find myself in the street, staring down hundreds of parked cars.
"You know, it's not wise to daydream while standing in the middle of 8th Avenue at midnight on a Friday night."
I look around at the multitudes of people passing by, but they are all in their own little existence. The voice sounds eerily familiar to me.
"You might want to move." The mysterious voice says to me as I continue looking for him. "Now."
Confused and slightly freaked out, I move from the road to the sidewalk. I still scour the sidewalk, looking for the one person that was standing by and watching me during this ordeal. Out of the darkness surrounding a streetlight, I see a person emerge.
"Robbie?"
"How ya doing, Superstar?" He says to me before letting out a chuckle. "Because judging by how pale your face is right now, it looks like you've seen a ghost."
"Ok, now I know I'm going nuts."
"I assure you," Robbie says as he walks over and places a hand on my shoulder. "It's really me."
"So, lifelike." I quip. "Now I need to know where you've been hiding out for the past dozen years?"
"In the cemetery where I was buried." Robbie shot out. "Only you know that I'm here."
"Robbie, don't play with me like that." I banter back. "I've been a little on edge lately with this match coming up in a couple days. Now people are gonna think I'm nuts talking to a streetlight. "
"I know," he begins. "Listen, do you think it's going to be a breeze? That these dreams you've been having lately are just muses. You have to be smart enough to know that it won't be."
"I'm aware of that. But I also know that I have the power of being right about this on my side."
"Oh and everything will turn out like a movie, where Schneider is gonna realize the error of his ways and join up with good." Robbie retorts before slapping me in the back of the head. "If you believe that, then I see plenty of Norman Bates showers in your future."
The sad part is, I know that he's right. The match is going to be harder than what these dreams indicate. In just a few short days, I'm going to take more punishment than any match I've been in. But what I know to be true above all else is that I have more than just intangibles, I possess more of the immeasurable qualities over Philbo.
Heart.
"Robbie, I don't understand." I say trying to purge some clarity out of him. "I figured you of all people would understand what I'm fighting for."
"I do, better than anyone." Robbie says, looking into my eyes in an attempt to see my soul. "But this sunshine and farts that people have been feeding you for the past few months is gonna get you hurt."
"It's my wife and two of the only friends I have left in this business Robbie." I snap back. "What's wrong with them trying to support me in this cause?"
"It does no good to have smoke blown up your ass," Robbie states as he leans in close to me. "Because, when it's you out there, you're the only one that can control the outcome. Nikki, Dave, and Penny can't help you against this lunatic."
"I'm not doing this just for me..."
"Oh no, you're doing this for the Hutton Browns and Mason Dixons of the world, right?" Robbie says as he cuts me off. "Give me a f*cking break, Josh."
"Well what would you rather me say, Robbie?" I huff as I start to pace. "That I felt insulted that he couldn't honor the tradition of a simple handshake two men share after a match like he and Drakz had? Because I still believe that sh*t still exists and is a virtue worth fighting for."
"You say it with such conviction, but I know better than that." Robbie says, pushing me back a step. "Rip yourself open, what's the real reason you need to do this?"
"Because he can't beat me!"
"I'm sorry, come again?"
"He won't beat me because I am better than him." I say as I sit down on the ground. "I've had seven years to think about that night. One little instance of showmanship cost me the last legitimate shot at a World Championship I've had in my career. That's why I have to go into his territory, to prove without a doubt that he can not hold a candle to me."
Robbie folds his arms and a smile crosses his face. He got the desired outcome from me, truth.
I turn to look at him, and suddenly he was gone. Had I really been talking to myself this whole entire time? Maybe I have went off the deep end with this obsession. The ground starts shaking with no effect on the bystanders walking past. Fuzziness starts to fill my head while the shaking becomes more violent, forcing me to close my eyes.
"Josh."
I open my eyes to see Nikki standing over me. She smiles that warm loving smile.
"You've got an interview with Sports Talk New York in an hour. I've got your clothes laid out."
Rising out of bed, I shake my head to make sure this is reality. My eyes turn to the mirror in front of me. Seeing the banner I placed in that mirror, his smug face holding the gun up to his mouth like he does in all of his promotional photos grates my nerves because it is so pretentious. I just wish that one time, the trigger slipped and maybe this damn charade he's been playing with people over the past ten years would end.
But I know it won't unless someone ends it for him.
I'm your huckleberry, bitch, and I've got the gun in my hands now.
He's yearned for someone to come into his circus for a long time. The fact that I did it willingly is something new to him. But I beg to differ, sir. We started something we have yet to finish. Fight for our ideals on respect, correct?
More like a fight for our lives. But I'm not going to be the one in survival mode.
You will.
******
Welcome back folks to this candid edition of Sports Talk New York. I'm here with WFWF Superstar Josh Dean. He's taking on Phillip Schneider in an I Respect You match at Battle at the Garden. Before leaving the WFWF the first time, you came close to beating Phillip Schneider. Do you feel you have what it takes to beat him now? What's changed?
Of course I believe that I can beat Phillip Schneider. If I didn't believe I could beat him, I wouldn't have called him out. I believe that I was better than him back then, and I think I'm in a completely different atmosphere now, so much so that he's gonna need a rocket ship strapped on his ass in order to sniff my level. The biggest difference between then and now is I have a more personal reason to kick his ass. This upcoming match with ole Philbo the recycling bin is little more than a clash in philosophy. For those who follow this business, I don't need to bore you with an explanation of the specifics as every one of our encounters over the past few months make that abundantly clear.
As much as it pains me to admit it, Philbo and I have one similar characteristic in that we've always done things on our terms. We should be pretty good buddies due to that, but we're not and I don't ever see us being. Why we have the problem with each other that we do is simply based on the way actions are carried out. It hasn't been enough for him to beat people lately since the day he squeaked by me, oh no, Phillip Schneider's not satisfied til they're eliminated.
You're referring of course to Hutton Brown?
Then there's Drakz. Those names still sting a bit to him, I'm sure. Two matches in his career that still haunt him to this day. Hutton haunts Philbo because he never got that chance to settle the score one on one. I watched the Double Jeopardy match from home and I saw Philbo drive him through a smorgasbord of weapons just so he could exorcise that demon.
And Drakz, well he passed Phillip by and is moving onto the title he held for so long while he hopes to seek solace in what can be perceived as a consolation prize. I looked in his beady little eyes when he hit Dave with that chair and its evident to me that Phil sees Hutton and Drakz when he sees me, that guy who just won't go away. And that same look in his eyes when I flew over those ropes towards him like a heat seeking missile told me all I needed to know going into this match. His eyes told me that he's in way over his head because for once someone is willing to bring the fight to The King of Gore's ing doorstep!
Does this have to do with his snubbed handshake at the conclusion of the match with Drakz at SuperBrawl?
People think this problem started at SuperBrawl, but in reality it started much sooner than that. This problem I have with with Phillip Schneider started May 10, 2007 when I BEAT ME for the World Heavyweight Title. To referrence a great literary classic, I pulled an Odessyus and got too cocky. Since then, our paths have went down seperate roads that started with that one fateful rope break and now we've come full circle as evolved versions of the same people we were back then. But the handshake just gave me another reason to go after him.
With such an impressive resume to his credit, he has referred to himself as God...
I hate to cut you off, but I have one question? How ing delusional is this guy to claim himself as some form of deity? And what's worse is the people who buy into it. He'd honestly have a better chance of baking a crap pie and trying to pass it off as chocolate before convincing me that he's anything other than a mediocre talent who found his niche in gorefests. That's why when we finally face off at Madison Square Garden, I'm gonna waltz my ass into his wheelhouse and break him. The world needs to see that he's made his bones off deception.
You are very confident going into his environment, when he has beaten you in what could be considered your environment. Your response?
It's funny that you mention that title match, because that night Philip Schneider didn't beat me. I beat me because I made a tactical error, and he just so happened to be fortunate enough to take advantage of it. But you can bet the bank that he won't be so fortunate this time. His reign that is so highly regarded only occurred because I wasn't an active wrestler at the time among other reasons. But you wanna talk about the match, here it is. Phillip Schneider plays on people's fear of pain and uses it to his advantage. That's why nobody wants to go into a gimmick match stipulation with him, because he gives them a wide eyed look, he puts a gun up to his mouth in promotional shoots. It's all smoke and mirrors with this guy and karma's coming to the Garden to bite him in the ass.
He blatantly disrespects this business because I don't know if it's ever been said, but Phillip takes his ball and goes home whenever something doesn't go his way. Its always one foot out the damn door with him and frankly, I'm going to make this decision really f*cking easy on him come the pay per view, because when he leaves again, he's leaving on a stretcher. He wants to use me as a springboard to get a title shot, but I hate to tell Sisyphus this, the boulder is not coming back up the mountain because I'll still be here to make sure he gets blocked at every turn.
Respect. You give it to receive it.
You're adding fuel to the fire for this highly anticipated grudge match. Are you worried about what Schneider will do to defend what he considers his turf?
I know that Phillip will answer the challenge and bring every sick and twisted trick in his arsenal to get me uttering those three words, but I won't because I don't. I've doing this half my life and I'll be damned if some fair weather dude from the suburbs takes a company I love and plays games with it any longer. I wonder if Samantha will be watching, because to her I'm truly sorry she has to witness this.
See what I did there Jack, I lied to you. And it doesn't feel good, does it?
I'm not sorry that she has to witness this because maybe she'll finally get some vindication for the years of being scared being Phillip Schneider's daughter. Did you know that Samantha once shoplifted makeup from Wal-Mart? Well rumor has it that Phillip verbally berates her to this day for a simple teenage mistake. Some parent. I myself am worried about how my kids will see me after this because I will be changed due to this match, but here I am, unafraid and defiantly standing up against this coward. And how poetic that we are in New York because I'm paying homage to Babe Ruth and calling my shot. I will force Phillip Schneider to say that he respects me. If that means that I have to seriously hurt him, I'm sorry that it has to be that way. But he is the one who made it that way.
And I think we've just about ran out of time, actually correction, we've ran over our time frame for this afternoon. I want to thank former WFWF International Champion Josh Dean for stopping by to chat with us today. Stay tuned for Olbermann on Sports Talk New York. Remember Battle at the Garden comes to you live on pay per view, check your cable or satellite provider for more information on show times and listings. I'm Jack Michaels signing off!