Relentless

Three years, and man it's been a very long road back. Three years of healing my body and soul, all so I could do what I've always known I'm good at. Wrestle. Despite my contract situation and my feelings on how this company runs, wrestling is still something I love at its core. I love the competition aspect, and that doesn't go away just because a decision was made to take a step back. The choice wasn't made overnight, either. I had to choose between vindication and preservation.

I chose preservation. Vindication could wait until I was in the right place for it. But there's another word getting tossed around aimlessly when it doesn't need to be. Validation.

Validation was coming back after being gone from this company for seven years, beating everyone that was put in front of me and winning the World Heavyweight Title by defeating a man recognized as the standard bearer.

Then it was stolen from me by the same sore loser, plus a b*tch owner who's salty that it wasn't him. What's worse is blantant politics kept my vindication just out of reach until the scariest words an athlete can hear were told to me following my unfortunate series of concussions,

"Career ending."

I had to think about my family's needs first and foremost. But you can't keep a good man down, so the cliche goes.

This isn't any different than what I've done before, defying odds and expectations. I reckon I need to fill in the remaining blanks with context.

A lot of people have followed the story of my injury and comeback with a vested interest. They've been watching my every move, waiting for the chance to spark the hot take debates. So flying under the radar was never going to be easy. That's why I had my PR team start the rumor so many people put stock into about a year ago. My critics are going to say I cherry picked my first opponent back. They're also the same people who'll claim I exaggerated my injuries so I could disappear to give my career a restart. And really the question comes down to... why do you care all of sudden, if that were in fact the case? Is it because I demand the kind of attention and respect you lust for? Nah, it has be because I know how much clout I have in this company and finally decided to throw it around a little. And that makes people mad, especially because I have been away. I suppose that's what happens when you get overshadowed despite your hard work, you look for any way to diminish that person's greatness. And I'll get to him later, he who likes to squak the most about what I deserve. I get it because I've been there. But it feels like two lifetimes ago since the last time I allowed that to happen to me. Key word kids, ALLOWED.

Now how much effort can you sincerely say you put in, when all I had to do was show my face again to make you obsolete?

Point is, don't b*tch about something you don't like. Grow a spine and do something about it.

I knew I would come back because of unfinished business. I also came back because a twenty year career at the top of professional wrestling isn't enough. A match against a hungry up and comer after a three year layoff would be a nice way to end my career, but it won't satisfy me. In fact, there were several offers that came across my desk I briefly considered. The truth is, there's always been one person I wanted to face and I made sure he knew it. It didn't happen at the last SuperBrawl because too many people would've seen it coming. And I had make sure his schedule was clear. I didn't want anything else standing in my way because my injury prolonged this enough.

Make no mistake, folks, I am a main event star. And while I can definitely use that status to help said up and comer... I can't help but feel even more disrespected than I've already been. Where's the incentive, hmm?

But let's talk for a minute about moments, the very thing careers are defined by.

The interesting part about creating a moment is that aspects of it are learned, but there's an innate quality involved. You can always learn when the product needs freshened up, especially when the time away allows you to gain distance. I could always sense when sh*t needed stirred, however, and that's why it caught everyone by surprise. I wasn't about to let anyone spoil it for me either, and why should the latest suit have the satisfaction of knowing? Since Survival of the Fittest, moments are exactly what I've created. I'm indifferent to it really because for me this is strictly about having one goal in mind. And with that, the questions started about who I could be targeting upon my return. Who would be the marquee matchup we could all expect?

I could've had anyone.

Kyzer.

Destroyer.

Thunder.

Lynn.

Mesh.

Mason?

That last one doesn't sound quite right. Let's try it again.

"The Architect" Josh Dean makes his in ring return versus WFWF Vanguard Champion Johnny Mason. Hell, even after adding in his lone accomplishment, it still doesn't sound right because of all the established names that would've made more sense. But that's what we got for my in ring return. A truly momentous occasion three years in the making, with months of careful preparation... and somehow Johnny Mason found his way into the distinction.

So how'd we get here?

And why you?

Well for starters, I've been watching you for a while. Now is it possible that maybe I see a little bit of myself in you, a completely ignorant kid who has undergone great personal trauma? Listen, I applaud trying to make a name for yourself in this business by any means necessary, especially when your life outside the ring is in shambles. It's easy to look at you and see a guy who passes the eye test. You've got a good look with a solid build, which provides a very strong foundation to succeed. I can refer back to my business model and think:

"Sh*t, I could do a lot of favors for this dude's career if I give him the rub. I might just do that because I can relate to his story. Let's see if he has the intangibles to go along with it."

Now usually, I'm all about giving back to the business because it takes a special kind of person to enter into this profession. You gotta be little messed up in the head to wanna do what we do willingly. For nearly twenty years, I've used this line of work as an avenue to build a life for myself that seemed impossible growing up in the Atlanta ghetto, putting my body at risk every step of the way. But perhaps more importantly, this business was built off the back of those willing to teach and those willing to learn.

Those reasons are certainly within one realm of thought. But I'm pretty
sure we're stretching comparisons just a touch at this juncture. After you and I are finished in that ring, however, we'll both have a better understanding of your upside.

Here's the bad news, I ain't feeling very charitable. You getting this opportunity is the extent of my kindness.

That means what's coming to you at Fright Night is as close to legal assault as it gets.

See I'm done giving back to this business, because every year the returns keep diminishing. So no, you won't be receiving a goodwill lesson in the levels of professionalism from a veteran trying to leave professional wrestling in better shape. Instead, you're going to be the vehicle I use to serve notice to one person in that locker room.

Isaac Cray, but you may know him better as Drakz.

He needs to learn that he can't run forever.

And Kris Kash is going to deliver his a** to me.

But not right now. He knows when.

There's not enough money to be made smashing anyone, let alone you, on a throwaway show. I'm looking for significant pay per view cuts and that's exactly what I will get. When you build a brand that has worldwide reach, you too will be able to demand more and obtain it. But you're going to have to do better than interrupting me and flashing your title to be taken seriously if you're content having a never was leeching off you, hoping you'll be his ticket to relevance.

So please, don't take it personal that you're being served up to the best wrestler in the world. I've been gone for long enough that you probably didn't have a clue as to who I actually am. That's why you interjected yourself in what turned out to be a futile negotiation, although I don't think it was you who suggested it. That's on me nevertheless, because clearly Lila's plan to just act like I never existed seemed to work better than I anticipated. Typical of this company, even though she's gone now. You'll learn soon enough you gotta go to bat for yourself to get anything around here. I have to admire the balls to interrupt me though, but quite frankly your timing sucks. See if there's one pet peeve I have, it's having my time wasted. You apparently weren't listening when I explained my actions to the entire world a couple months back. So, let me break this down in simple terms for you. I have three obligated appearances left on my existing WFWF contract and our 'esteemed' Kris Kash has been desperately trying to re-sign me to a lucrative long term contract despite playing hard ball with me on certain etiquette, since Lila Sleater couldn't get the one job she had done. That means my limited time is very valuable, and I need to make the most of it to get what I want at the negotiating table. You sticking your nose where it doesn't belong took money out of my pocket.

I don't appreciate my money being f*cked with. Kris Kash is learning not to f*ck with my money, and he runs day to day operations for the company. So where do you and Watts get off exhibiting such reckless behavior?

Now you've went and got yourself on the wrong guy's radar.

Stupid kids gotta learn.

It's not my fault you chose the hard way.

Josh Dean Presents
Relentless

Rattled

Kindred Hospital
St. Louis, Missouri
February 9, 2017

"Well...you do have a concussion." Dr. James Salmons says while placing a darken picture on the light board in front of my bed before stepping to the side. He points at the back of the skull. "You see this red highlighted area here?"

"Yeah."

"I am officially diagnosing this as a grade three because those highlights indicate a considerable amount of swelling in the meninges that surround your brain."

"Translation?"

"That highlighted area keeps your brain from slamming against your skull every time you move or take impact." He explains, expanding the image for a closer view. "These dark indentions are wear and tear from continuous blunt force trauma."

"So let's cut to the chase." I say, squirming around to find a comfortable spot. "When can I go back to the ring?"

"I'm afraid you won't be wrestling any time soon." He says with a long face before pushing back his thin rimmed glasses. "Your CT scan is a mess to put it lightly, and that's coming from a trained eye." 

"Ok." 

Well no sh*t, Doc. Tell me something I don't know.

"How long did it take you to come to that conclusion?" I ask snarkily, unaware that I'm actually thinking out loud. "Was it the trash can full of vomit beside my bed? No wait, it has to be because I can't even look at someone without seeing three of them!"

He's looking at me funny. Do I still have puke on my mouth?

"I bet it's partially due to my ability to self diagnose, because I believe I outright said I had a concussion when I arrived last night."

"Excuse me?"

Whoops. Did I just say that whole rant out loud? Maybe you should hear what else goes on in my head.

"Sorry, Doc." I mumble. "My bad."

"You'll have to forgive Josh." Penny says, running her fingers through my hair. I guess she's learned that has a way of calming me down. "His adrenaline is still running pretty high."

"Irritability is a common symptom with head injuries." He says while walking around the front of my bed. "I'm just assuming here Josh, but this isn't your first concussion."

His blank stare leads me to ask, "Wait, you mean you don't have my medical records? What the hell kinda ship are you running here?" 

"I'll take that as a no." He retorts. "Ok then, how many have you suffered? Just a roundabout number will suffice."

"Penny can you do me a favor?" I ask while turning over with a grimace. "Can you text Roger on the medical team and have him email you the PDF of my last physical?"

Penny nods as I glance back at the doctor's amazed gaze before saying, "I like to keep archives of my medical records. This'll just take a second."

"How thorough of you."

"I'm not your typical patient, I guess you could say."

"Ok according to your last physical, you've suffered twelve confirmed concussions." Penny says, squinting with her good eye to read the document on her tiny screen. "And that report was dated December 17, 2015. Who do I need to forward this to?"

"I'll get that to you here momentarily."

"Good, now can we get back to my interrogation, please?" I demand. "I'd like to sleep at some point."

"Sorry, go on."

"Let's see, so you'd add one a month later, maybe two if that's possible." I say, counting my fingers. "Yeah, I was completely out of it for a stretch. Then there was another one in November last year. Oh, and don't forget about when Mike Jette and I took that nasty spill off the apron back in July. So that would make..."

"Sixteen."

That sounded much better in my head than when he said it.

"Right." I add while sitting up, only for a rush of dizziness to overtake me and force me back down into a lying position. Penny offers me a trash can, which I beckon away. "But those are the ones I can actually count. I mean I have been wrestling professionally since 2001."

"Ok." Dr. Salmons says as he jobs my dates on his clipboard. "Now these questions are so I can gather a baseline for testing. Are there any other neurological injuries I should note?"

"Does a broken neck count?"

"While it is a structural issue, it does matter as the neck keeps your spinal cord secure. The more movement you have in that area, the more susceptible your brain is for excess movements inside your skull." He explains while jotting this in his notes. He then asks, "Is there a fusion?"

"My C4 and C5 were fused in 2012." I respond. "Seems to be holding up pretty well.

"Really? And you really don't seem too concerned with the sheer volume of violent blows you've taken at thirty years old?" He inquires, placing his pen back in his jacket pocket. "What worries me is that we're too late."

"Look, I knew what I signed up for."

"Even the most physical contact sports don't have that many instances over the same stretch." He says, turning to look at the CT scan placed on the light board. "These last three or four are coming on average of one every three months, which is consistent with these dark patches I've found throughout your scan. Simply put, you're barely recovering from one concussion before getting another shortly after. I have my doubts you're even making a full recovery each time."

No wonder the last year has been a daze.

"And I'm merely speculating, but you haven't lightened your workload, either."

"No."

"But as a top draw, he can't afford to." Penny explains.

"That may be true and I certainly understand." Dr. Salmons quickly rebutts, turning his gaze to Penny. "I can also see that the bracket in his neck is showing signs of deterioration where it's been in for five years and undergone excessive stress. It won't hold up."

I know where he's directing this conversation, as it's pretty much the same speech I get after every one of these. He'll drone on about focusing more on something else away from the ring, which I have to great success. It's not the same as competing, however, and he can't possibly wrap his head around being at the top of my game and my given profession in my athletic prime.

Meanwhile, my head's still throbbing several hours after my initial intake, and the lights don't make it any better. Plus, I can feel myself nodding off mid conversation. Whether through ignorance or pride, I believed it wasn't happening to me until hospital trips like this became more frequent. Before, I'd be in and out and back on the road in after a quick triage. But these last couple have been at least overnight stays. I've been noticing the effects of my most recent concussions sticking around longer too, even after WFWF's doctors clear me. There's an old saying in boxing that it's easier to knock a fighter out after the first time, but realizing my punch card may be reaching its limit is difficult to come to terms with. Yet it rings true, and maybe I'm just the latest one.

The doctor is standing in front of me with an expectant look on his face. The problem is, I'm struggling to remember what he just said.

I can't recall ever experiencing that.

"Look, it's too soon to say he's not mindful of the amount of damage he's had in the past year." Penny says in an obvious cover for my complete mental lapse. "Besides, how often do people say questionable things when they're disoriented?" 

"We have to talk about the..."

"Be careful what you say next." Penny quickly interjects, glancing over at me. "He's still awake." 

"Penny, stop." I say, trying like hell to refocus. "I'm a big boy, and if he's got something to say, let him."

Besides, my shoulder's jacked in addition to this migraine you two are giving me. I hope I didn't say that out loud.

"I know you also came in here with a shoulder injury."

Sh*t, guess I did.

"That's the least of my concerns, Josh. Our orthopedic team will get that fixed in no time flat." He begins, turning off the board and dimming the overhead lights. It's a slight reprieve, but doesn't come close to quelling my growing headache. "We're talking about the real possibility of permanent damage to your brain."

"So I'll take six months off, get my shoulder worked on, and let my body rest."

"In theory that sounds like a good plan."

"I feel a 'but' coming."

"While it may be ideal for you to resume wrestling, the reality is you won't be getting clearence from me or any other neurologist with a valid license for a while, if ever again."

"Maybe you should talk to them in the office since they're just dying to send me back out there."

"Maybe I will." He says as he calmly tucks his clipboard under his arm. "In the mean time, you may want to speak to your attorney about your options before a match turns fatal."

The doctor leaves the room and I ball up my fist. As I slam my fist down onto my bed, Penny reaches over to put her hand on top of mine before saying, "It's ok to be angry."

"How could I let this happen again?!"

"You didn't let anything happen." Penny replies in a reassuring tone. "You can't control these kinds of things. Nobody can."

I sigh, then say, "I had a plan, Penny. And now that's shot all to hell."

"What is it you always say? Everybody has one until they get hit?"

*****

Championship Connections
Atlanta, Georgia
February 23, 2017

"So after reviewing your contract, you'll be glad to know that you have some leeway." Martin says, sliding my contract across his desk. I pick it up as he continues, "WFWF is in a very compromising position with you and they need to handle it carefully."

OK, so I bit. I took the doctor's advice and decided to talk to Martin about the specific terms in my contract. It's always smart to surround yourself with people who have an expertise in their field, as they will give you the information that isn't always readily available. We're off to a good start, knowing that I have a couple things I can use to my advantage for when I eventually see Lila. She's ringing my phone off the hook since the tournament. Thirsty much? I doubt it, as she would be fratenizing with the talent much more than her icy demeanor would allow.

Nikki motions for the contract. I hand it to her as she asks, "Why did you highlight this paragraph in section three?"

"Because this gives Josh all the leverage he needs."

"Whereas, at the date of this agreement, WFWF is liable for any punitive damages..." Nikki reads aloud, but her voice tapers off as she changes thought. "Is that standard?"

"No. Josh is the only wrestler, or agent for that matter, I've seen request it be added." Martin says, as he sips from his water bottle. "So to put it simply, he can't be terminated for being injured without WFWF being responsible for any damages. That includes lost wages or medical expenses."

"I've seen too many of my friends not have that clause added in their deals and get f*cked over in the process." I say as I clutch her hand. "Jason got tied up in court costs several years ago when he tore his triceps. I told him he needed to have it."

"What happened?" Nikki asks.

"He procrastinated, then wanted to sue when he got released for lost wages." I reply, turning back to Martin. "Weren't you representing him?"

"I did, and he didn't have a leg to stand on." Martin says while slightly shaking his head. "Even told him as much."

"I only ask since I know you still have dates left on your deal. Lila was talking about a new contract even before I retired." Nikki says, brushing loose hair out of my face as she leans back. She crosses her arms and asks. "How does this injury affect that now?"

"As of this current contract, it doesn't."

"But..."

"That's provided he does finish his number of obligations."

"Martin, we're talking about a year or so at minimum before he could even return." Nikki retorts as she faces me. I can feel her squeeze tighten. "And call me selfish, babe, but I don't think it's good for you to go back."

"WFWF could always counter with a buyout settlement." He says before leaning forward. "If they do, Josh, I'd take it. That's my professional opinion, of course."

His professional opinion is the reason I've kept Martin on retainer for the past ten years. I've seen lawyers take uneducated athletes to the cleaners too often, so needless to say I was shocked when I initially met him during Jason's litigation. I had just started dipping my toes into being an advocate around the time Jason and I teamed together, and Martin's no bullsh*t approach resonated with me because the truth is priceless.

I make a concerted effort to take the emotion out of my decision making processes. I am going back, and all Martin did was give me the green light.

"They won't make that offer." I interject. "I became too valuable to lose to another promotion the second I won the title."

"And you're just going to let them sucker you back in?"

Not exactly. Have I really let people believe I'm that gullible, just because I chose to be personable?

Damn.

Can't have that.

"With this contract, there is no expiration date." Martin says. "He could be out one year, five years, ten years, and they still have to honor it. Even if WFWF ceased operations, they would still owe him money."

"Which means I'm not going back until I have a clean bill of health." I say, placing my hand on top of hers. "We have too much at stake for a misstep."

"Does Lila know that?"

"Not yet."

"I've seen how she operates, and she is going to try and guilt you by talking about the company's future to make you feel obligated."

"What's she going to use that I haven't already heard?" I reply as I sit my contract back on Martin's desk. "Lila lost my willingness to cooperate with the way she handled SOS's problems."

Why should I stand up for something I can barely stomach? Some good 'fighting for the cause' actually did me. It stifled me, and SOS was the latest example. I used to say to young guys in the past that if you're going to be a martyr, you better be willing to die for a cause. Over the years I've fought for the belief in fairness because I wanted that challenge, and in each of those fights I've literally lost parts of myself. My C4 and C5 vertebrae were left in Chicago while parts of my brain have been scattered from Pasadena, Minneapolis, Vegas, to most recently St. Louis among the litany of injuries suffered in that vein. WFWF wasn't my first rodeo in a nearly two decade long career, but perhaps they were the most blatant. I'd always come back because I felt the company I wrestled for needed me because I produce results. That's undisputed and how a superstar such as myself should visualize their worth. But then again, what's the point of rushing back to a company who shows you no love?

Simple, because everyone eats better when I'm around.

"I can't see what you have to gain from going back there." Nikki finally says, reaching up to touch my face. "They mishandled everything regarding you, almost out of spite."

"I know they did, and I succeeded despite it. We succeeded for the time SOS was together." I say, reaching over to touch her leg. "But all the leverage I've secured goes out the door if I breach my contract."

"And the buyout isn't an option?"

"It is." Martin interjects.

"But it's not likely, because they won't gain anything out of it." I say, rubbing my fingers together. "Lila may be a lot of things, but stupid about knowing where she gets her money from is not one of them."

"That's why this doesn't feel right." Nikki responds. "Trace has the money to buy you out."

"And you don't think he'd love the opportunity to put me down for good?" I ask, beckoning as a smirk crosses my face. "He can bring his ass on if he has the stones to do it himself."

"You're on the shelf though."

"He'll be around when I come back."

"Nikki's right, it sounds like you made a lot of enemies in high places, Josh." Martin intervenes. "While legally you are entitled to finish up your contract, any long term value would be diminished if you suffer another injury like this one. At that point, you'd become a liability."

"Not a label I'm interested in having again." I say with a sigh. "Took me years to get rid of it."

"Don't you think you've been doing this long enough?" Martin asks in a sober tone. "How much more can you take?"

"Plus, it sounds like you're offering yourself up to be the lamb." Nikki says.

"I wish there was a way to help you understand."

"Why not try talking to me?" Nikki asks in a pleading manner. "Not about business, but about what you want."

What do I want? I want the goddamn injuries to stop kneecapping my career. I want the sonofab*tch who started this chain reaction to burn, and I want it at my hands. I want to stop waking up with a migraine and going to bed with an even worse one. I want closure that's beyond warranted. F*ck being liked anymore. Very few people in this industry can say they've achieved what I have individually whilst raising the level of performance of everyone around me. I still want more, though. I need more.

Nikki knows it, and she can see it in my eyes. The spark that remains is still bright despite being suppressed by the darkness of uncertainty due to situations I've allowed to escalate into problems.

I ponder for moment before looking at her and saying, "I think I've earned the right to end this on my terms."

*****

There comes a point in every athlete's career when they have to accept that there's more road behind them than in front. As a whole in WFWF there's a fair amount of people at those crossroads, and I'm one of them. I know it's hard to imagine a thirty four year old man staring down the prospect of maybe one more good run left, especially since I'm in just as good of shape as I was at twenty five. My reasons aren't because I'm in a physical decline, but rather my decreasing willingness to be in the equivalent of a car accident on a regular basis for someone who refuses to acknowledge my contributions to this sport and my overall worth as an asset to the company. I will change his perceptions, yet that's still the position we find ourselves in. You'd be wise to pay attention to what I'm doing for your own application and come prepared for when your time inevitably comes to negotiate your contract.

I know he isn't here with us now, but think about it like you're investing in his future.

I'm not going to harp on the point about your son. It's tasteless. As a parent myself, I couldn't imagine the pain of having to say goodbye to one of my own. I'm not going to pretend I understand. But what I do know is I cherish being able to pass on the knowledge I've learned the hard way to my sons. I'm able to give them things I didn't have growing up, praying they can become successful men from it. I can only offer my empathy in that regard, Johnny, because it won't happen for you. Even if you failed to give sound advice, I feel sorry you don't get that chance. That's why I expect you come out and give it your absolute best against me. Try to take that win and make me consider asking for a buyout. Anything less is a slap in my face and insulting to your son's memory. I want to believe, at the very least, you have more respect for yourself than that.

So here's a friendly piece of advice. It's the last I'm gonna give you before I systematically take you apart. Capitalize on the fact you've got more eyes watching you right now than at any point you'll have in your career. The internet exploded with our confrontation at the presser. Wouldn't ya know it, almost instantly everyone has a reason to wonder how Johnny Mason will do against his first actual test.

You're welcome for the new exposure.

Now what I hope you'll do is use this opportunity to build your own brand, not the one Tyson Watts wants you to build. He may not think it, but I remember him from his tenure in WFWF. My memory does get fuzzy at times, but what I remember about him was that he couldn't be bothered to listen to the veterans who actually cared. I didn't personally pull him aside and offer advice. I'll admit that. If that makes me a bad guy in your eyes... so be it. But I choose to lead by example and I have the resume to prove it not just for myself, but also the people I've worked with. You have this preconceived notion about me, Johnny. And let me just state candidly for the record that I don't care. People need an image of their competition, even if it's misguided. It's not the first time I've been misunderstood, but I know it helps you get motivated. But if you were really ready for me, desire should already be there. Seriously kid, what'd you think was gonna happen when you got in my face? Getting busted open with a mic to the face should've taught you that if Watts hadn't pulled you off stage, it would've been worse. Too bad he won't acknowledge it because he's preoccupied with blowing smoke up your a** to pump you up. Nah, Tyson would rather paint a picture for you that suggests I snubbed him back then. But I know people who did try to help and got sh*t on in the process. All because he thought he was better than what he actually was and did little to improve.

Now I want you to ask yourself a question. Is that a guy you want in your corner pulling the strings?

Oh wait, you didn't know you're a glorified puppet?

Man, this is going to be easier than I thought because you can't be that naive. How is it even possible?

Here's a newsflash. Most of us get into this business because we want to be famous. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, because you need to hear the truth at some point. Tyson isn't gonna give it to you because the truth isn't kind. Sure, it's nice if we don't mind the work, but getting famous is the end result. People are just now starting to know your name, and with that comes a bigger spotlight than you can conceive. And it's bright, Johnny. Those lights are scorching when you get too close and haven't prepared for the heat. Being in the ring with the Anna Ahrimans and Destroyers of the world is a nice start to showing that maybe you have a dark side. And I'm not talking about whether the fans cheer or boo you, I'm talking about taking those opportunities and cashing in. Anna has taken a page out of her father's playbook, letting her mouth garner opportunites she hasn't earned and it shows. Destroyer on the other hand, while the majority of our fan base doesn't actually know about his career, is a name from yesteryear that someone in the office thought they could market.

Guess what? It shows.

Now people will want to lump me into that category by my recent actions. But by conveniently omitting that I still have a contracted one on one rematch with Isaac Cray as part of my existing deal, those people failed to exercise simple due diligence.

Once again, it shows.

What's even more troubling is that Tyson wants you to do those same things I just mentioned for him, since he doesn't have the talent or backbone to do it himself. But what he did was talk you into a fight with the real deal. There's an old adage that sums up what all promising young talent goes through to prove their worth. It's called the deep end of the pool, where many have drown because they couldn't handle that weight and pressure for very long. Now we find out how well you can swim, especially when performing at a high level becomes the expectation instead of a serendipitous moment. That's the level you're trying to reach, the level I live at. See my focus is on leaving no doubts ever again, and how that cements my legacy in this business means much more than facing you. People are responding to that drive by putting down their hard earned money for SuperBrawl, even though my match isn't officially in writing. Kris Kash can thank me for the sold out arena later, but I don't expect it. I left him no other option than to give me the match I want though because I'm also the only person on this roster who has a legitimate claim to call himself the WFWF World Heavyweight Champion, and not just because I have possession of the physical belt. You and everyone else may take issue with my jumping the line and going straight at Isaac Cray, and honestly I'd be more worried if you didn't. But whose fault is it, Johnny, that I don't have another challenge I'm interested in? You as a champion have a responsibility to elevate your position. I'm not sure you realized that your job, this early in your career, is to take that Vanguard Title and show the suits you deserve more!

You do want more, don't you?

Who am I kidding? You don't know what you want and lack the common sense to see you've been getting bad advice this whole time. You aren't willing to bet on yourself, Johnny. I know that because Tyson Watts is still hanging around and dragging you down. Then when you stumble, he's got that Jackson kid waiting in the wings to take your place.

You should've avoided getting into business with him to begin with, but even I have a couple instances in my career where I would've loved a do-over. We'll just call it 'on the job training', because the embarrassment you're about to feel you won't soon forget. These are the lessons that stick with you and make you better, which at the end of the day is the best outcome for both of us. You need this match to see how much work you need to do. I need this match to ensure my body and mind are completely aligned before I make that trek down to Wembley Stadium and put two in the back of an old, mangled, mutt's head. I know there's still work that needs to be done in the wrestling world, and whether I decide to do it in WFWF or not is irrelevant. But I'm looking forward to seeing if you can become better after taking this ass whipping and not end up as another in the long line of people like Carter Contra and Daniel Kirkbride.

Don't recognize those names?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

They were once in a position just like you're in, just like I was in nearly two decades ago. They had some early success. There was a lot of hype and boisterous claims being made about them being the future, until they got hit in the mouth that first time and never recovered. I'm one of the fortunate ones to take those early lumps and keep moving forward, and it laid a vital groundwork for the career I've had. Not everyone can say that. Which one are you, Johnny?

We'll find out soon enough.

In the meantime, you oughta contemplate dropping the dead weight if you want to do more than take up space. Because if you can't keep up with me at Fright Night, I have no problem running through you.

Maybe after this match, you'll also learn to stay in your lane.