Post by Thunder on Oct 7, 2006 22:30:56 GMT -5
Baseball, America’s pastime. But the sport is so beloved that it stretches far beyond the United States. Even as far away as Japan baseball is popular. But no matter where in the world it is played, one team is synonymous with the sport: the New York Yankees. The team has held some of the greatest players to ever step on a baseball diamond: Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, more recently Derek Jeter and Randy Johnson. There may not be a more beloved team in baseball, and with good reason. Rarely has there been a time when the Yankees not been in the playoffs competing to win the World Series. And every year their millions of fans cheer them on in the playoffs, hoping for yet another championship. But today, October 7th, is a somber day for those fans. The New York Yankees were knocked out of the playoffs by Jim Leyland’s Detroit Tigers. The hopes and dreams of all of those fans were crushed as they watched throughout bars in the city of New York.
The scene opens in one of those bars. The bar is packed just about as tightly as possible, people filling up the round tables and bar stools. They show their Yankee pride by wearing shirts and hats donning their favorite team’s logo. All of the televisions are all playing the post game show, but very few are watching. For the most part their heads are, sulking it their loss. And every one of them is downing their sorrow in the only way they now how: alcohol. Most of them order another round for the group. They drink to try to calm them, they drink to ease the agony of defeat. Amidst the sound of the announcers and patrons talking, the door opens. In walks a man who is quickly recognizable, Thunder. He is wearing a suit as always, but is also wearing a Detroit Tigers hat. With a huge grin on his face he sits down at the bar stool on the end, the only one empty. He sits down and signals to the bartender that he wants a beer. The man next to him is a portly man in his thirties. His beer sits in front of him half empty, but instead of drinking his head is down. A few seconds later, the bartender returns with the beer and sets it down in front of Thunder.
Here’s your beer.
Thanks.
Thunder reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out some money. While it is unclear how much it is, the large number of bills suggests that it is much more than the cost of the beer. The exchange between the two caught the attention of the man, who now raises his head and looks at Thunder.
Disappointed?
Yeah, I thought the Yankees could take ‘em.
You know, I’m disappointed too.
Why would you be disappointed? You’re wearing a Tigers hat, so you must be a fan.
Oh, it’s not about the game. I came here because I was told Bronx Bomber frequents this bar.
Yeah, he’s here often, especially during the playoff games.
I figured he would be pretty distraught over the loss, so I thought I’d buy him a drink to console him.
Why would you that?
You think I would do that to be nice? It’s a concept you obviously can’t grasp: mind games. I mess with people’s heads. He’s an emotional wreck right just like all of these pathetic people in this bar. It’s got to be an even worse time for him knowing he’s got to defend his Internet Title against me at Odium.
He’ll kick your ass in that match.
Oh really? Just like the Yankees did to the Tigers, right? Let me tell you something. I’ve got more drive and determination Bronx Bomber ever has. I’ve fought harder than I ever have in my career to get the Internet Title. At Superbrawl IV I left my blood and pieces of me in that ring, but Bomber stole the victory. I had to beat three other men to get this title shot. What has Bomber done? He’s gotten some cheap wins like the one at Superbrawl IV, but he hasn’t had a real challenge until now. I’m in a class above everyone he’s defended the title against. I’m light years away from him in the ring, something that everyone will know after Odium. His brawling techniques may have worked before, but now that he’s facing someone as good as me he will crumble just like his beloved team. In the end, it’s quite simple. The result will be just like today’s baseball game. The seemingly mighty Yankees fell to the unstoppable Tigers. I am the one that can’t be stopped, and Bomber is the one that appears to be great. There is where we are different. I am what I say I am, Bomber just pretends to be. Got it?
What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about the game.
God, I can’t be in this hellhole much longer. Bartender, get over here.
The bartender hears this and immediately rushes over, knowing that he may be in for more money. Sure enough, Thunder takes more money out of his pocket. He hands it to the bartender.
Bomber’s going to have a rough week, so use that money to give him some beer on me. One for the Yankee’s losing, and one for him losing the Internet Title to me.
I’ll be sure to do that.
I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t stand to be with these drunks any longer.
Thunder takes one more look at the man next to him. He’s back to his earlier position: head down, sulking. As he looks around the bar, he sees much of the same. There is no doubt other fans are doing the same, and Bronx Bomber is one of them. Thunder opens the door and walks out. A limo is waiting for him. The door to the bar closes as the scene fades.
The scene opens in one of those bars. The bar is packed just about as tightly as possible, people filling up the round tables and bar stools. They show their Yankee pride by wearing shirts and hats donning their favorite team’s logo. All of the televisions are all playing the post game show, but very few are watching. For the most part their heads are, sulking it their loss. And every one of them is downing their sorrow in the only way they now how: alcohol. Most of them order another round for the group. They drink to try to calm them, they drink to ease the agony of defeat. Amidst the sound of the announcers and patrons talking, the door opens. In walks a man who is quickly recognizable, Thunder. He is wearing a suit as always, but is also wearing a Detroit Tigers hat. With a huge grin on his face he sits down at the bar stool on the end, the only one empty. He sits down and signals to the bartender that he wants a beer. The man next to him is a portly man in his thirties. His beer sits in front of him half empty, but instead of drinking his head is down. A few seconds later, the bartender returns with the beer and sets it down in front of Thunder.
Here’s your beer.
Thanks.
Thunder reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out some money. While it is unclear how much it is, the large number of bills suggests that it is much more than the cost of the beer. The exchange between the two caught the attention of the man, who now raises his head and looks at Thunder.
Disappointed?
Yeah, I thought the Yankees could take ‘em.
You know, I’m disappointed too.
Why would you be disappointed? You’re wearing a Tigers hat, so you must be a fan.
Oh, it’s not about the game. I came here because I was told Bronx Bomber frequents this bar.
Yeah, he’s here often, especially during the playoff games.
I figured he would be pretty distraught over the loss, so I thought I’d buy him a drink to console him.
Why would you that?
You think I would do that to be nice? It’s a concept you obviously can’t grasp: mind games. I mess with people’s heads. He’s an emotional wreck right just like all of these pathetic people in this bar. It’s got to be an even worse time for him knowing he’s got to defend his Internet Title against me at Odium.
He’ll kick your ass in that match.
Oh really? Just like the Yankees did to the Tigers, right? Let me tell you something. I’ve got more drive and determination Bronx Bomber ever has. I’ve fought harder than I ever have in my career to get the Internet Title. At Superbrawl IV I left my blood and pieces of me in that ring, but Bomber stole the victory. I had to beat three other men to get this title shot. What has Bomber done? He’s gotten some cheap wins like the one at Superbrawl IV, but he hasn’t had a real challenge until now. I’m in a class above everyone he’s defended the title against. I’m light years away from him in the ring, something that everyone will know after Odium. His brawling techniques may have worked before, but now that he’s facing someone as good as me he will crumble just like his beloved team. In the end, it’s quite simple. The result will be just like today’s baseball game. The seemingly mighty Yankees fell to the unstoppable Tigers. I am the one that can’t be stopped, and Bomber is the one that appears to be great. There is where we are different. I am what I say I am, Bomber just pretends to be. Got it?
What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about the game.
God, I can’t be in this hellhole much longer. Bartender, get over here.
The bartender hears this and immediately rushes over, knowing that he may be in for more money. Sure enough, Thunder takes more money out of his pocket. He hands it to the bartender.
Bomber’s going to have a rough week, so use that money to give him some beer on me. One for the Yankee’s losing, and one for him losing the Internet Title to me.
I’ll be sure to do that.
I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t stand to be with these drunks any longer.
Thunder takes one more look at the man next to him. He’s back to his earlier position: head down, sulking. As he looks around the bar, he sees much of the same. There is no doubt other fans are doing the same, and Bronx Bomber is one of them. Thunder opens the door and walks out. A limo is waiting for him. The door to the bar closes as the scene fades.
