Post by alexhayes on Aug 16, 2020 12:15:46 GMT -5
By now, Alex was used to the eventual sting of losing. In fact that’s exactly what he had done most of his career. He had barely won any matches and when he did it was by some fluke, or the company had fallen for his charm. Not to mention, he had a lack of talent that he once had been so eager to regain when he was younger that he lost sight of what wrestling had really meant to him and he felt ashamed. He felt like he let everyone down who lived in Black Hills. Even his own intelligence had outsmarted him. Travis may have been a big opponent, but even the big buffoon had outsmarted him. He still couldn’t get over that, but now wasn’t the time for that.
Beaten with a slight headache that still rang in his head after days of trying to recoup from, Alex decided to turn his attention to his next opponent, Eli Beazley. He smirked at the thought of facing him in the ring. He knew what he was capable of. Beazley wasn’t one to take so lightly being a former Jr. Heavyweight champion now seeking the North American championship which he won via a sneaky move on Andrew Barnes.
Now, that was his kind of guy. He would do most anything he could do to get the job done and then some. That was the same for Alex, but what held him back was his values and teachings from his culture. He knew about respect, and how it had to be honored. He was pretty sure that if he didn’t have that kind of consciousness and heart, he would have been held the top championship in all the feds he had been in, but alas, that was not meant to be.
In order to shake all the resentment that he had of his past, he had to do something that he had never done in all his life. He had to search deep within himself to find the answer which would take more than just one night.
That wouldn’t stop him though. The stubbornness that was within him wouldn’t let him quit. The thought of victory drove him almost to the edge of insanity...and that’s where we start this story. Alex, lost in his mind, and lost from all connection to the outside world to the point of almost agoraphobia.
He was in his hotel room looking in the mirror with a grin on his face that could curdle milk. He was laughing so obnoxiously that he almost forgot where he was for a moment. His anxiety was through the roof and Alex had seen no way out of it. The poor soul was trapped, lost in his own thoughts. Hell even driving from one arena to the next was a struggle for him. About the only place he felt safe was on the reservation. It was there that he knew nothing was going to get him. Here, outside the reservation in the United States he wasn’t safe. He wasn’t secure, but, he had to come here anyway so that he could do what he loved, professional wrestling.
As he stepped outside his bathroom and into the studio where bed and chairs were, he had heard a knock on his door. He glanced at it wondering if he should open it or not. Hesitating, he made his way across the floor and looked out the peephole and sighed. He forgot that he had ordered pizza.
“Pizza.”
Hayes closed the peephole.
His hand shook as he grasped the doorknob to open it. As he did, his anxiety grew into an almost compulsory fight-or-flight response. He could feel his heart rate rise. His blood began to boil and sweat dripped off of his brow. As his heart rate rose, he thrust the door open in yet an emotion that he had felt was all too familiar, anger. His teeth were clenched, and his fist was closed so tightly that they turned white. The pizza delivery guy on the other side could be seen shaking, although this was not what Alex had wanted.
“I-is this Alexander Hayes? H-here’s your pizza, sir,” the older gentleman had said.
Alex tried to take a deep breath in, but with his agoraphobia and flight-or-flight responses so over the edge right now, he couldn’t calm himself down. He was so anxious in fact that he had almost jumped the poor guy.
“Oh, right,” came his reply through clenched teeth, “Thanks. Next time would you mind calling me? I’m trying so hard right now not to hurt you. I’m in a rough situation and I’m not dealing well with it.”
“No shit. You nearly killed me. Here take your pizza. I’m getting the hell out of here. Oh, and by the looks of it, you won’t be back, sir. You’re in a hotel.”
He thrust the pizza at Hayes and then bolted. The scared looking young teenager was not going to stick around for a conversation with him. This was when Hayes knew he needed to seek counselling. The more he scared people, the more he felt isolated and alone. This was not a life to live. This was killing him.
______________________
Eli Beazley, good show last week my man. You were able to capitalize on a cheap shot. You procured the win through tricking your opponent. You won by tomfoolery and that makes you the number one contender for the North American Championship. Congratulations, great job on cheating. You should be so proud. But, there is one thing that I have noticed and I think all the APW fans have noticed. That little excursion of yours made you slip up. That’s right, slip up. And now, no one knows for sure, but you might be out of action for a time.
Normally, I would say how I’m gonna beat you and how I’m going to massacre you like the natives did to Custer in the Trail of Tears when he invaded the wrong camp at Little Bighorn, but I’m not going to do that this time. What I am going to talk about is how you held the Jr. Heavyweight Championship for one hundred and twenty six days which makes you, I believe APW’s longest Junior championship title holder. You also won wrestler of the year, match and feud of the year, quit and moved onto a bigger fed. This is a misapplication on your part my good sir. I would not have quit. I would have helped build this fed into something more than it is right now. More than just a mere Netflix wrestling TV show.
Now, I’m not bashing APW, no, by any means. I’m saying this to prove a point Eli. There is a lot of talent in you that’s for sure. I’ve seen your matches before I had joined up, before I was given a job.
It is my honor to be in the ring with you, the number one contender for the North American championship. It will also be my pleasure to beat you. You’re good, but not as good as I am. You’re a damn good wrestler, sure, but I know many, many ways to get you to tap. I could put you in an ankle lock, or into a sharpshooter quicker than a blink of your eye. I’m also not prone to noticing you may still be hurt after that stunt you pulled last week on Metal. As I’ve mentioned in an aforementioned statement. I’m gonna look for those weaknesses and use them to my advantage.
I wrestle each match like it’s my last one. I wrestle as if I’m going to get hurt and never be in that ring again. That's all I have. That’s all my motivation. I have no family. Both my mother and father had passed away. When I left the reservation, I left with purpose, and that’s to become the best damn wrestler the world has ever seen. Let’s put on a good show, Eli. Let’s show the fans what we’re made of, and bring down that house!
Beaten with a slight headache that still rang in his head after days of trying to recoup from, Alex decided to turn his attention to his next opponent, Eli Beazley. He smirked at the thought of facing him in the ring. He knew what he was capable of. Beazley wasn’t one to take so lightly being a former Jr. Heavyweight champion now seeking the North American championship which he won via a sneaky move on Andrew Barnes.
Now, that was his kind of guy. He would do most anything he could do to get the job done and then some. That was the same for Alex, but what held him back was his values and teachings from his culture. He knew about respect, and how it had to be honored. He was pretty sure that if he didn’t have that kind of consciousness and heart, he would have been held the top championship in all the feds he had been in, but alas, that was not meant to be.
In order to shake all the resentment that he had of his past, he had to do something that he had never done in all his life. He had to search deep within himself to find the answer which would take more than just one night.
That wouldn’t stop him though. The stubbornness that was within him wouldn’t let him quit. The thought of victory drove him almost to the edge of insanity...and that’s where we start this story. Alex, lost in his mind, and lost from all connection to the outside world to the point of almost agoraphobia.
He was in his hotel room looking in the mirror with a grin on his face that could curdle milk. He was laughing so obnoxiously that he almost forgot where he was for a moment. His anxiety was through the roof and Alex had seen no way out of it. The poor soul was trapped, lost in his own thoughts. Hell even driving from one arena to the next was a struggle for him. About the only place he felt safe was on the reservation. It was there that he knew nothing was going to get him. Here, outside the reservation in the United States he wasn’t safe. He wasn’t secure, but, he had to come here anyway so that he could do what he loved, professional wrestling.
As he stepped outside his bathroom and into the studio where bed and chairs were, he had heard a knock on his door. He glanced at it wondering if he should open it or not. Hesitating, he made his way across the floor and looked out the peephole and sighed. He forgot that he had ordered pizza.
“Pizza.”
Hayes closed the peephole.
His hand shook as he grasped the doorknob to open it. As he did, his anxiety grew into an almost compulsory fight-or-flight response. He could feel his heart rate rise. His blood began to boil and sweat dripped off of his brow. As his heart rate rose, he thrust the door open in yet an emotion that he had felt was all too familiar, anger. His teeth were clenched, and his fist was closed so tightly that they turned white. The pizza delivery guy on the other side could be seen shaking, although this was not what Alex had wanted.
“I-is this Alexander Hayes? H-here’s your pizza, sir,” the older gentleman had said.
Alex tried to take a deep breath in, but with his agoraphobia and flight-or-flight responses so over the edge right now, he couldn’t calm himself down. He was so anxious in fact that he had almost jumped the poor guy.
“Oh, right,” came his reply through clenched teeth, “Thanks. Next time would you mind calling me? I’m trying so hard right now not to hurt you. I’m in a rough situation and I’m not dealing well with it.”
“No shit. You nearly killed me. Here take your pizza. I’m getting the hell out of here. Oh, and by the looks of it, you won’t be back, sir. You’re in a hotel.”
He thrust the pizza at Hayes and then bolted. The scared looking young teenager was not going to stick around for a conversation with him. This was when Hayes knew he needed to seek counselling. The more he scared people, the more he felt isolated and alone. This was not a life to live. This was killing him.
______________________
Eli Beazley, good show last week my man. You were able to capitalize on a cheap shot. You procured the win through tricking your opponent. You won by tomfoolery and that makes you the number one contender for the North American Championship. Congratulations, great job on cheating. You should be so proud. But, there is one thing that I have noticed and I think all the APW fans have noticed. That little excursion of yours made you slip up. That’s right, slip up. And now, no one knows for sure, but you might be out of action for a time.
Normally, I would say how I’m gonna beat you and how I’m going to massacre you like the natives did to Custer in the Trail of Tears when he invaded the wrong camp at Little Bighorn, but I’m not going to do that this time. What I am going to talk about is how you held the Jr. Heavyweight Championship for one hundred and twenty six days which makes you, I believe APW’s longest Junior championship title holder. You also won wrestler of the year, match and feud of the year, quit and moved onto a bigger fed. This is a misapplication on your part my good sir. I would not have quit. I would have helped build this fed into something more than it is right now. More than just a mere Netflix wrestling TV show.
Now, I’m not bashing APW, no, by any means. I’m saying this to prove a point Eli. There is a lot of talent in you that’s for sure. I’ve seen your matches before I had joined up, before I was given a job.
It is my honor to be in the ring with you, the number one contender for the North American championship. It will also be my pleasure to beat you. You’re good, but not as good as I am. You’re a damn good wrestler, sure, but I know many, many ways to get you to tap. I could put you in an ankle lock, or into a sharpshooter quicker than a blink of your eye. I’m also not prone to noticing you may still be hurt after that stunt you pulled last week on Metal. As I’ve mentioned in an aforementioned statement. I’m gonna look for those weaknesses and use them to my advantage.
I wrestle each match like it’s my last one. I wrestle as if I’m going to get hurt and never be in that ring again. That's all I have. That’s all my motivation. I have no family. Both my mother and father had passed away. When I left the reservation, I left with purpose, and that’s to become the best damn wrestler the world has ever seen. Let’s put on a good show, Eli. Let’s show the fans what we’re made of, and bring down that house!
