Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2021 22:10:05 GMT -5
“Do you know what it feels like to be a first born and feel like a middle child?”
The voice of Chris Sanderson filled the video as he was in a dark home gym. He was barely visible as he continued talking.
“Do you know what it feels like to be part of a wrestling family, hate what they’ve become and yet feel trapped within this cycle of substance abuse, bad decisions, kids that come out of nowhere and being considered a joke?
It’s a weird feeling, and yet, is it something that can be escaped? For years I’ve been trying to run from it. Run away from people making jokes. People who look down on me, on the family because of who we are. And yet?”
He paused for a brief moment.
“No one ever really takes the time to look at themselves. Anyone who cracks jokes, tries to be a wise ass never really thinks about it. Everyone wants to be a tough guy in this sport. Everyone wants to be the baddest person walking into that ring. Yet, when push comes to shove, how many of you can really claim it?
How many of you can look deep down at yourself and know you’re the best wrestler in that ring? We know I’ve had my moments of doubt, but when I got Devin’s shoulders to the mat a few days ago, some of that doubt crept away.”
Chris rubbed his face and grabbed a nearby towel and put it over his head.
“Of course someone will claim that Thespian making that count shouldn’t have counted and all sorts of nonsense, but you know what? Management never said a single word about it. Never heard anyone say a thing about it after it happened.
I hate to say it was a break, but I beat Devin Mitchell regardless of who had the stripes on to punch my ticket to Homecoming II. I did that. I dumped him on his head. Me.”
He kept his head lowered with not much emotion coming out of his voice.
“It angers me just a little bit, ladies and gentlemen, that some people on the internet don’t think I can beat Thespian. It annoys me to think there are some who believe that they are a better wrestler than I am.
Admittedly, you won that championship in a four way contest after it was vacated. You beat three good talents in Felix, Sparks and Jabroni. No one will deny that Thespian was able to win that night and be the Southern States Champion.
But…”
His voice trailed off for a moment.
“Was it really impressive? You took advantage of a situation. Thespian was able to win that championship in due part to someone else’s work. You, Thespian, while showing the ability to be a champion and beat some damn fine wrestlers, haven’t faced a guy who has been around the world the last nine years like me.
That’s not being cocky. That’s just me being real, Thespian. That’s me letting you know that I’m not nervous, that I don’t need good luck like you wished me on Saturday night after it felt like you were going to smack me upside the head with that title belt.
Do you know how patronizing that is? To hear someone like you tell me good luck?”
Chris shook his head in anger and his voice raised in tone.
“You failed in your only singles match with the Southern State Title on the line. Couldn’t get it done. And you’re telling me good luck?”
Chris yelled his words now, more and more upset with each passing one.
“Do you know why I’ve called myself the middle child of professional wrestling in the past? Because of people like you, Thespian. People like you can’t be assed to know what I’ve done in the past.
You saw me first hand in Cruiserfest this year. You saw what I did in that match. Coming within the top three to take the XHF Junior Heavyweight Championship.
And you want to fucking tell me good luck?!”
Spit flew out of his mouth, his eyes turned red with anger.
“Since the moment I started in this sport, my third match in, someone took liberties with me. Beat the ever livin’ crap out of me. I came back for more. And more. Since that day I have fought to get where I am, Thespian and someone like you…
I don’t need luck.
I don’t need you patronizing me.
I don’t need some fucking actor in my sport.
You want to think this is all a play, all some sort of act? This is professional wrestling.
You wanna keep playing around? You want to face me, the middle child of professional wrestling on November 27th at the Smoothie King Center? You want me to be impressed that you said something yourself?
Beat me in the middle of that ring and I’ll be impressed. Retain that championship against me, and I’ll shake your hand like a man. I’ll give you that respect because you gotta earn it.”
Chris stood and kept the towel on his head and the lights low.
“I need that Southern States Championship, Thespian. I won’t bend any rules. I won’t play dirty. I’ll just out wrestle you and drop you on your head.”
And after all that the camera cuts.
The voice of Chris Sanderson filled the video as he was in a dark home gym. He was barely visible as he continued talking.
“Do you know what it feels like to be part of a wrestling family, hate what they’ve become and yet feel trapped within this cycle of substance abuse, bad decisions, kids that come out of nowhere and being considered a joke?
It’s a weird feeling, and yet, is it something that can be escaped? For years I’ve been trying to run from it. Run away from people making jokes. People who look down on me, on the family because of who we are. And yet?”
He paused for a brief moment.
“No one ever really takes the time to look at themselves. Anyone who cracks jokes, tries to be a wise ass never really thinks about it. Everyone wants to be a tough guy in this sport. Everyone wants to be the baddest person walking into that ring. Yet, when push comes to shove, how many of you can really claim it?
How many of you can look deep down at yourself and know you’re the best wrestler in that ring? We know I’ve had my moments of doubt, but when I got Devin’s shoulders to the mat a few days ago, some of that doubt crept away.”
Chris rubbed his face and grabbed a nearby towel and put it over his head.
“Of course someone will claim that Thespian making that count shouldn’t have counted and all sorts of nonsense, but you know what? Management never said a single word about it. Never heard anyone say a thing about it after it happened.
I hate to say it was a break, but I beat Devin Mitchell regardless of who had the stripes on to punch my ticket to Homecoming II. I did that. I dumped him on his head. Me.”
He kept his head lowered with not much emotion coming out of his voice.
“It angers me just a little bit, ladies and gentlemen, that some people on the internet don’t think I can beat Thespian. It annoys me to think there are some who believe that they are a better wrestler than I am.
Admittedly, you won that championship in a four way contest after it was vacated. You beat three good talents in Felix, Sparks and Jabroni. No one will deny that Thespian was able to win that night and be the Southern States Champion.
But…”
His voice trailed off for a moment.
“Was it really impressive? You took advantage of a situation. Thespian was able to win that championship in due part to someone else’s work. You, Thespian, while showing the ability to be a champion and beat some damn fine wrestlers, haven’t faced a guy who has been around the world the last nine years like me.
That’s not being cocky. That’s just me being real, Thespian. That’s me letting you know that I’m not nervous, that I don’t need good luck like you wished me on Saturday night after it felt like you were going to smack me upside the head with that title belt.
Do you know how patronizing that is? To hear someone like you tell me good luck?”
Chris shook his head in anger and his voice raised in tone.
“You failed in your only singles match with the Southern State Title on the line. Couldn’t get it done. And you’re telling me good luck?”
Chris yelled his words now, more and more upset with each passing one.
“Do you know why I’ve called myself the middle child of professional wrestling in the past? Because of people like you, Thespian. People like you can’t be assed to know what I’ve done in the past.
You saw me first hand in Cruiserfest this year. You saw what I did in that match. Coming within the top three to take the XHF Junior Heavyweight Championship.
And you want to fucking tell me good luck?!”
Spit flew out of his mouth, his eyes turned red with anger.
“Since the moment I started in this sport, my third match in, someone took liberties with me. Beat the ever livin’ crap out of me. I came back for more. And more. Since that day I have fought to get where I am, Thespian and someone like you…
I don’t need luck.
I don’t need you patronizing me.
I don’t need some fucking actor in my sport.
You want to think this is all a play, all some sort of act? This is professional wrestling.
You wanna keep playing around? You want to face me, the middle child of professional wrestling on November 27th at the Smoothie King Center? You want me to be impressed that you said something yourself?
Beat me in the middle of that ring and I’ll be impressed. Retain that championship against me, and I’ll shake your hand like a man. I’ll give you that respect because you gotta earn it.”
Chris stood and kept the towel on his head and the lights low.
“I need that Southern States Championship, Thespian. I won’t bend any rules. I won’t play dirty. I’ll just out wrestle you and drop you on your head.”
And after all that the camera cuts.