Post by FINN WHELAN on Aug 18, 2021 22:37:14 GMT -5
“Challenges.”
It was a word that set the tone and mood differently dependent on who was saying it entirely. There would always be the laziest of people who complained, fought against challenges. It didn’t matter if they thought they were too good, or better than, or not good enough...they weren’t mentally, physically and emotionally prepared to go up against a challenge. On the opposite end of the spectrum of challenges, though, there were those who relished in the challenge, that bathed in the opportunity and let it wash over them, making it their magnum opus. They took it by the hand, crushed it beneath their fingers, and moved with everything they had in them to meet and prevail and rise to the heavens once more.
Which one did you think Finn Whelan was?
The NLW Heavyweight Championship laid neatly on the table in front of him. He stood, his hands placed firmly upon it, bracing himself upwards, though his frame was hunched over, his shoulder blades arched upwards as he did so, his head down. He did not raise it as he spoke, opting to allow the longer part of his hair at the front of his head to hang down lower.
“I would be a fool if I didn’t think that this reign wouldn’t come with challenges. That I would be able to relax for a show or two before a challenge would be made. After all, that wouldn’t be something that a company would do, right? That doesn’t rake in money, that doesn’t rake in advertisements and promotions, and it certainly doesn’t allow there to be any upper hand when it comes down to the nitty, gritty details, does it? But, that’s the thing that happens with championships. It doesn’t matter who holds the championship, it doesn’t matter the length -- duration, time, whatever you want to call it -- of a reign. You are always, and forever more, the target. No ifs, ands or buts.”
Slowly, he raises his head, staring forward with a determined, almost aggressive expression. The overexposure from the darkened room with the white light trained on him forces his blue eyes to be lighter, and his leather jacket both covers his torso and blackens his body from the lights.
“I am not a fool. I am not a green tadpole from the dredges of a wrestling academy who has a lily-white, pure outlook on the way that companies are run. I don’t sit in the backstage area worrying about what the executives think of me, what the fans are going to say if I go out there and do something they dislike, or if I’m raking in the cash that I’m expected to. I am unapologetically and unabashedly me. I don’t play games, I don’t do the whole backstage political bullshit, and I certainly don’t pander for my opportunities.”
He pushed himself upwards, reaching for the title and swinging it upwards. His jaw clenched slightly, but only for a second.
“I fought for my opportunity. I showed my ability, I pushed for what I got in the correct way with the correct amount of bullshit. I didn’t ask for something to be handed to me, I earned my shit. But the ways that we do that aren’t always the same, right? I minded my own fucking business, got noticed, and the next match I had, I ended up defeating Tommy Kelly for this championship when I was the one that was down and out on the popularity contest. Funny how that goes, right? Whether or not Wellington Dunne’s presence in my match was a benefit to me, I’ll never know, and it will always be the little asterisk in my reign. At least...unless I defeat Dylan Black. Unless I defeat a former XHF X*Crown Champion. Unless…”
He paused.
“Unless I do the unthinkable at Collison Course. Unless I put down the one person whose sales pitch was good enough to sell their soul to be destroyed by me. I may be a Saint, but I’m still The Virulence. I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing, the one that looks innocuous, the one you would look at and see more of a brawler than a champion. But there is venom in my words, my actions...I seep in and I ensure total destruction. I may be a small name, but I grew overnight like an infectious disease and like the pandemic that ravages the world...it’s going to be harder and harder to get rid of me.
I don’t just lay down for others. I don’t give a shit who you are; in the grand scheme of my ring, you are the challenger and nothing more. I once ran the halls of a company, fought for the grandeur of the belts and the status that it claimed, even when it was the least expected option for me. Tommy Kelly, Jason Long, Adam Sanders, Adrian Cochrane...your names are known, just as much as Black’s is to me. I’m not that kid who walks it not knowing what I’m supposed to be doing, or who I’m facing. I’m observant. I take in, I carry, and I make notes.
I know I have a challenge set in front of me. Some crumble under pressure. But me?
I revel in the challenge.
I live for the challenge.
It’s not about just gaining a championship. That’s where so many people fail. It’s about earning it, and keeping it. I gained this championship by the skin of my teeth, and now? Now I’m going to fight like hell to continue to carry it. It doesn’t matter who you put in front of me. I proved that. Friend, mentee, foe...the person across from me will always be a challenge that I need to step up to and face not only as a man, a fighter, a wrestler. But now as a champion for Next Level.
You can bet your ass it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
It was a word that set the tone and mood differently dependent on who was saying it entirely. There would always be the laziest of people who complained, fought against challenges. It didn’t matter if they thought they were too good, or better than, or not good enough...they weren’t mentally, physically and emotionally prepared to go up against a challenge. On the opposite end of the spectrum of challenges, though, there were those who relished in the challenge, that bathed in the opportunity and let it wash over them, making it their magnum opus. They took it by the hand, crushed it beneath their fingers, and moved with everything they had in them to meet and prevail and rise to the heavens once more.
Which one did you think Finn Whelan was?
The NLW Heavyweight Championship laid neatly on the table in front of him. He stood, his hands placed firmly upon it, bracing himself upwards, though his frame was hunched over, his shoulder blades arched upwards as he did so, his head down. He did not raise it as he spoke, opting to allow the longer part of his hair at the front of his head to hang down lower.
“I would be a fool if I didn’t think that this reign wouldn’t come with challenges. That I would be able to relax for a show or two before a challenge would be made. After all, that wouldn’t be something that a company would do, right? That doesn’t rake in money, that doesn’t rake in advertisements and promotions, and it certainly doesn’t allow there to be any upper hand when it comes down to the nitty, gritty details, does it? But, that’s the thing that happens with championships. It doesn’t matter who holds the championship, it doesn’t matter the length -- duration, time, whatever you want to call it -- of a reign. You are always, and forever more, the target. No ifs, ands or buts.”
Slowly, he raises his head, staring forward with a determined, almost aggressive expression. The overexposure from the darkened room with the white light trained on him forces his blue eyes to be lighter, and his leather jacket both covers his torso and blackens his body from the lights.
“I am not a fool. I am not a green tadpole from the dredges of a wrestling academy who has a lily-white, pure outlook on the way that companies are run. I don’t sit in the backstage area worrying about what the executives think of me, what the fans are going to say if I go out there and do something they dislike, or if I’m raking in the cash that I’m expected to. I am unapologetically and unabashedly me. I don’t play games, I don’t do the whole backstage political bullshit, and I certainly don’t pander for my opportunities.”
He pushed himself upwards, reaching for the title and swinging it upwards. His jaw clenched slightly, but only for a second.
“I fought for my opportunity. I showed my ability, I pushed for what I got in the correct way with the correct amount of bullshit. I didn’t ask for something to be handed to me, I earned my shit. But the ways that we do that aren’t always the same, right? I minded my own fucking business, got noticed, and the next match I had, I ended up defeating Tommy Kelly for this championship when I was the one that was down and out on the popularity contest. Funny how that goes, right? Whether or not Wellington Dunne’s presence in my match was a benefit to me, I’ll never know, and it will always be the little asterisk in my reign. At least...unless I defeat Dylan Black. Unless I defeat a former XHF X*Crown Champion. Unless…”
He paused.
“Unless I do the unthinkable at Collison Course. Unless I put down the one person whose sales pitch was good enough to sell their soul to be destroyed by me. I may be a Saint, but I’m still The Virulence. I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing, the one that looks innocuous, the one you would look at and see more of a brawler than a champion. But there is venom in my words, my actions...I seep in and I ensure total destruction. I may be a small name, but I grew overnight like an infectious disease and like the pandemic that ravages the world...it’s going to be harder and harder to get rid of me.
I don’t just lay down for others. I don’t give a shit who you are; in the grand scheme of my ring, you are the challenger and nothing more. I once ran the halls of a company, fought for the grandeur of the belts and the status that it claimed, even when it was the least expected option for me. Tommy Kelly, Jason Long, Adam Sanders, Adrian Cochrane...your names are known, just as much as Black’s is to me. I’m not that kid who walks it not knowing what I’m supposed to be doing, or who I’m facing. I’m observant. I take in, I carry, and I make notes.
I know I have a challenge set in front of me. Some crumble under pressure. But me?
I revel in the challenge.
I live for the challenge.
It’s not about just gaining a championship. That’s where so many people fail. It’s about earning it, and keeping it. I gained this championship by the skin of my teeth, and now? Now I’m going to fight like hell to continue to carry it. It doesn’t matter who you put in front of me. I proved that. Friend, mentee, foe...the person across from me will always be a challenge that I need to step up to and face not only as a man, a fighter, a wrestler. But now as a champion for Next Level.
You can bet your ass it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
