...But You've Got A Good Ankle Lock [Card DAF #2]
Feb 18, 2019 9:31:00 GMT -5
Jack Diamond likes this
Post by Technical Perfection on Feb 18, 2019 9:31:00 GMT -5
Chris Card: Let me state one thing. Anthony Caffrey, you’ve got a good ankle lock.
Chris Card sits on the deck of a yacht, whisky in one hand in one hand and a lit Cuban cigar in the other. He takes a couple of long draws on the cigar and smiles for the camera. Not the smile of superiority, merely the calm look of a man at peace. Card’s tailored Italian suit is at the cutting edge of fashion and the little flashes of purple in the outfit, his handkerchief, his tie match perfectly with the flashes of purple on the boat.
Chris Card: Ah, this is the life. A man’s drink in one hand, a good smoke in the other and the sound of the ocean as my backing. Now, I know all you good viewers will be expecting one of my finely written promotional videos, so who am I to disappoint? Let’s get on with this before I have to send my staff below decks for more libation.
Anthony Caffrey?
I note that you’ve decided to attempt to psychoanalyse me, trying to gain a little leg up for our future battle. I heartily applaud that strategy because, as you noted, it is a tactic that I have used to great effect in the recent past. You never know, with enough practise you might be good enough, at some point in the future, for that tactic to work on a lesser opponent. Against my good self, you’ve had to expose more of your own weaknesses in the process than you might ideally have liked. You’ve decided to play my game, knowing how good I am at it and it’s not going to go all that well for you.
But you’ve got a good ankle lock.
Card blows a thick, heavy smoke ring that drifts out into the warm Atlantic air, lazily floating on the breeze.
Chris Card: Walking into the arena of psychology against myself? You’re braver than most men Anthony. Some would say foolhardy. I mean, you took a shot at my flamboyant vocabulary and accused it of being ostentatious. Ostentatious? Hardly. I’m not trying to impress. This is just the way I speak. I understand that you, “The Best,” would have a problem with someone being better than themselves at anything so my naturally superior verbal dexterity must be agonizing for you. The sad truth for you, Anthony, is that I’m actually limiting myself so you can keep up.
But you’ve got a good ankle lock.
A sip of whisky. An unsettlingly pleasant look forms across Card’s face.
Chris Card: Let’s talk about the little F bomb you dropped in your spiel. Freudian. In one word you summed up your ignorance on the topic. I do not hold much stock in Sigmund’s rather narrow interpretation of psychoanalysis. His work tends to boil every problem down to sexual frustration or parental misguidance. A Freudian would have a field day about a man who spent an agonizingly long time attacking his opponent by discussing their sexual habits.
But I am not Freudian. I understand that there are many different motivations for success and many different paths that lead to failure. I work people. I play on fears. Weaknesses. Insecurities. And aren’t you a little bundle of the latter of these things. Never have I heard a more insecure little man, screaming “I’m the best,” over and over, time and time again into the void as if anyone cares or ever will care of your own self opinion. That’s not a good look, Anthony. You’ve not got the greatest grasp of psychology. Heck, you don’t even understand your own psychological make up. That you come across as an emotionally immature toddler, running round the lounge floor, screaming and declaring himself king while his doting parents validate him.
But you’ve got a good ankle lock.
An accusative thrust of the lit end of the cigar towards the camera punctuates Card’s next series of points.
Chris Card: So you claim to be a student of the game, Anthony? You watch footage of other wrestlers to learn their styles. You have a notebook full of ideas and strategies of how to beat them? Yet you haven’t ever bothered to learn your own! Well, that’s just slacking off. You see I am more than just a master of psychology out of the ring. I’m a master of in ring psychology too. Now, I’m sure you are so well versed in the terminology of wrestling and thoroughly understand the concept. But I feel you may need a little refresher course.
You use a range of submission holds that is truly staggering. Far more than I use. And yet you seem to think that because I am not limber enough, I cannot apply a lot of what you have placed in your arsenal. Did you look at my deliciously tortuous finishing manoeuvrer, the Chris Card Clutch Beta? My own personal take on the Neto Spine Lock? I assure you, you need to be fairly flexible to apply that hold. So you have either massively misread my abilities, which I doubt as you don’t seem like the incompetent sort, or you’re openly lying to the public to prove your own point.
What you might not have figured out is that there is an end game to every move I use within those ropes. Everything flows, move into move, strike into strike. Everything is setting up the next thing. There is an internal logic to everything I do within the ropes. And your offense? I don’t see the same flow. Why would you use a manji-gatame, a double wrist lock, a bow and arrow hold, all moves that you are fully capable of carrying out, if your choice of dispatching opponents is a hold the grasps at a lower extremity?
Yes you have talent. But you’re not refined. You call yourself an artist? Well, yes. You’re scattergun with your move selection, nothing makes any coherent sense. This leads to you just throwing out holds in a random, patternless mess and praying that eventually you will get something to stick. That may suit some tastes, that’s for sure. But I will stick to my limited selection of paints and still produce better results. I’m Claude Monet to your Jackson Pollock. And hey, there’s room for both in the art world. But I know which one is more aesthetically pleasing and it’s not the one that looks like an explosion in a multicoloured spaghetti factory.
But at least you’ve got a good ankle lock.
Card restates his one point of compliment for Caffrey with such over the top glorification in his voice that you would have to be completely lacking in any intellect to miss the backhandedness.
Chris Card: Of course you have quite frankly amazing stamina. What do they call you? “The Sixty Minute Man.” That’s… less than a quarter of Dylan Viper, yes? What was it, two hundred fifty two minutes in last year’s Rumble? And what are you implying by that “Sixty Minute Man” moniker? That you lack the talent to put an opponent away sooner? It only takes three seconds to win a wrestling match. Maybe it’s that you know you can’t beat me and want to wrestle defensively and take a time limit draw.
Now I know my history makes you feel like much the lesser man, you wouldn’t be hammering the whole “Your history doesn’t matter” message home so very hard. Here’s the secret, Anthony. I know my history matters to you. I know it eats you up inside that someone with a recent history of success can also have a past as equally littered with title victories. Every time, every single time you try and point out that my record means nothing to you, you are showing that it does. If my history truly didn’t matter to you, in your position I would have kept my mouth closed.
Chris Card: You’re exposing your vulnerabilities again, Anthony. You envy my legacy. Just like you envy my house, my money, my cars, my yacht, my hot wife. That green eyed monster is taking hold of you and shaking you around the neck and it shows. You’re “The Best,” you’re AXW champion, you’re unbeaten since October and yet you don’t have what others have. And you’re worried, deep down, that you never will.
You haven’t got Bobby’s belt. And so you take casual swipes at him “stealing your move,” like you’re the first man to use an ankle lock in wrestling. You haven’t been called upon to represent AXW in a cross federation match. Because you didn’t grease the right wheels, right? You’ve got this great in ring talent and no one gives you the time of day. Bobby Barratt doesn’t want to face you because Bobby Barratt vs Jack Diamond has been building for over a year, is a Pay Per View main event for a better belt than you or I hold and either of the men in that match would beat you.
But, yeah, you’ve got a good ankle lock.
Card’s knowing look to the camera is almost overwhelming in it’s self assuredness.
Chris Card: Are you seriously trying to frame this match as legacy defining? For me? For you, maybe. It could mark a major turning point for your career. There’s a few people out there who claim victories over Chris Card as their finest moment in wrestling. But even if you try your hardest, your very, very hardest to frame this match as some great achievement for me… to me it’s a little thing I like to call, “Sunday.” See my legacy is set in stone already. Making a legacy takes time and effort and no small amount of skill. In time, with that effort and your undeniable level of ability some day you might have one yourself.
I have all those things you desire. There is a reason why I own a luxury yacht and you can only afford to rent a green screen. I worked and fought and scratched and clawed to get to where I am today. A point where I could walk away from professional wrestling tomorrow and still be living the high life until I shuffle off this mortal coil. I don’t need validation for my every action, and this is what separates us Anthony, because I already have that validation. I wrestle professionally because I enjoy it. I have fun out there. I walk out to the adulation of my fans and I soak up every second of it. I love this great sport of ours.
Card’s passion shows through. No lies need to be told. Not that Card has a policy of lying.
Chris Card: I don’t need to beat you, Caffrey. I don’t need to do any of this. What time would have been the right time to step away from wrestling and leave a lasting impression on the industry? Probably around 2013. And yet I turn up, lace my boots up and give my opponents the matches of their lives and the fans what they want to see. Me. And I perform for my audience. Because I want to and because I can.
Anyone who calls themselves “The Best” with such frequency has deep seated emotional inadequacies in need of either unquestioning validation or serious therapy. I remember when I used to need that level of validation. I don’t any more. I’m comfortable in my own skin. I don’t lust after titles. I am not desperate to prove myself at every turn. And yet… I’m finding winning them easier than ever. Funny that.
Card points to the title belt he has positioned neatly in shot of the camera.
Chris Card: In wrestling you never want to be playing directly to your opponent’s strengths. You don’t want to go hold for hold with a superior grappler. You don’t want to match power moves with a bigger, more physical opponent. You don’t want to take to the skies against an accomplished aerial artist. You play to your own advantages, dictate your own tempo as it were. That is the key to winning a wrestling match.
Anthony Caffrey, you’ve got a good ankle lock. So does Bobby Barratt. So does Scott Fargo and he’s batting 1000 on actually breaking ankles rather than just talking about it, so his is statistically better than yours. I learned the ankle lock as part of my professional wrestling training, then learned how to counter it, then learned why I don’t need it in my own move selection, then I learned a whole heap of additional interesting counters to it as part of my BJJ training. You’re very much at stage one of that process. Maybe two, I’ll have to check the scouting report again.
Sure you’ve got a title. Good for you. And you’ve put so much stake in that title and that winning streak that you are going to look like the biggest goose in the industry when you lose it. Because I know that your fragile little ego won’t be able to handle the loss. You place your entire image on being this undefeatable big deal? Oh, newsflash. No one is undefeatable and titles change hands. Fact of life. You’re going to end up crying into your cornflakes for weeks after that little belt you wear gets ripped from your clutches.
You’ll be so sad that you won’t even be able to do that trademark sinister smile of yours. You’ll have to use a… gasp with me audience… SECOND facial expression!
Card puts on a mock sinister smile. Then changes to a wide, beaming grin. Followed by a long draw on his expensive cigar and a polite sip of whisky.
Chris Card: And meanwhile, you have to face me. Wrestler against wrestler. Ankle lock against, how shall I put this? Considerably more than that. I’m still a bad match up for you, Anthony. Because I can bring all of my skills against you in the ring, match anything you can…
The background of the shot cuts to green as the image of a ship that was being cast upon in cuts out. The camera pans backwards revealing the carefully set up boom microphone and lighting rig. Card carefully stubs put his cigar and then precisely snips the end off using a cigar cutter, placing the remaining Cuban goodness in a conveniently positioned ash tray. Taking a final sip of his whisky, Card nods to one of his staff members to go get him a refill and smiles for the camera before wrapping up.
Chris Card: ...and then go one step further.
The camera pans backwards again, revealing this time that the entire set was positioned on board the actual, real life aft deck of Card’s massive yacht. Card stifles a laugh as we fade out.
Chris Card sits on the deck of a yacht, whisky in one hand in one hand and a lit Cuban cigar in the other. He takes a couple of long draws on the cigar and smiles for the camera. Not the smile of superiority, merely the calm look of a man at peace. Card’s tailored Italian suit is at the cutting edge of fashion and the little flashes of purple in the outfit, his handkerchief, his tie match perfectly with the flashes of purple on the boat.
Chris Card: Ah, this is the life. A man’s drink in one hand, a good smoke in the other and the sound of the ocean as my backing. Now, I know all you good viewers will be expecting one of my finely written promotional videos, so who am I to disappoint? Let’s get on with this before I have to send my staff below decks for more libation.
Anthony Caffrey?
I note that you’ve decided to attempt to psychoanalyse me, trying to gain a little leg up for our future battle. I heartily applaud that strategy because, as you noted, it is a tactic that I have used to great effect in the recent past. You never know, with enough practise you might be good enough, at some point in the future, for that tactic to work on a lesser opponent. Against my good self, you’ve had to expose more of your own weaknesses in the process than you might ideally have liked. You’ve decided to play my game, knowing how good I am at it and it’s not going to go all that well for you.
But you’ve got a good ankle lock.
Card blows a thick, heavy smoke ring that drifts out into the warm Atlantic air, lazily floating on the breeze.
Chris Card: Walking into the arena of psychology against myself? You’re braver than most men Anthony. Some would say foolhardy. I mean, you took a shot at my flamboyant vocabulary and accused it of being ostentatious. Ostentatious? Hardly. I’m not trying to impress. This is just the way I speak. I understand that you, “The Best,” would have a problem with someone being better than themselves at anything so my naturally superior verbal dexterity must be agonizing for you. The sad truth for you, Anthony, is that I’m actually limiting myself so you can keep up.
But you’ve got a good ankle lock.
A sip of whisky. An unsettlingly pleasant look forms across Card’s face.
Chris Card: Let’s talk about the little F bomb you dropped in your spiel. Freudian. In one word you summed up your ignorance on the topic. I do not hold much stock in Sigmund’s rather narrow interpretation of psychoanalysis. His work tends to boil every problem down to sexual frustration or parental misguidance. A Freudian would have a field day about a man who spent an agonizingly long time attacking his opponent by discussing their sexual habits.
But I am not Freudian. I understand that there are many different motivations for success and many different paths that lead to failure. I work people. I play on fears. Weaknesses. Insecurities. And aren’t you a little bundle of the latter of these things. Never have I heard a more insecure little man, screaming “I’m the best,” over and over, time and time again into the void as if anyone cares or ever will care of your own self opinion. That’s not a good look, Anthony. You’ve not got the greatest grasp of psychology. Heck, you don’t even understand your own psychological make up. That you come across as an emotionally immature toddler, running round the lounge floor, screaming and declaring himself king while his doting parents validate him.
But you’ve got a good ankle lock.
An accusative thrust of the lit end of the cigar towards the camera punctuates Card’s next series of points.
Chris Card: So you claim to be a student of the game, Anthony? You watch footage of other wrestlers to learn their styles. You have a notebook full of ideas and strategies of how to beat them? Yet you haven’t ever bothered to learn your own! Well, that’s just slacking off. You see I am more than just a master of psychology out of the ring. I’m a master of in ring psychology too. Now, I’m sure you are so well versed in the terminology of wrestling and thoroughly understand the concept. But I feel you may need a little refresher course.
You use a range of submission holds that is truly staggering. Far more than I use. And yet you seem to think that because I am not limber enough, I cannot apply a lot of what you have placed in your arsenal. Did you look at my deliciously tortuous finishing manoeuvrer, the Chris Card Clutch Beta? My own personal take on the Neto Spine Lock? I assure you, you need to be fairly flexible to apply that hold. So you have either massively misread my abilities, which I doubt as you don’t seem like the incompetent sort, or you’re openly lying to the public to prove your own point.
What you might not have figured out is that there is an end game to every move I use within those ropes. Everything flows, move into move, strike into strike. Everything is setting up the next thing. There is an internal logic to everything I do within the ropes. And your offense? I don’t see the same flow. Why would you use a manji-gatame, a double wrist lock, a bow and arrow hold, all moves that you are fully capable of carrying out, if your choice of dispatching opponents is a hold the grasps at a lower extremity?
Yes you have talent. But you’re not refined. You call yourself an artist? Well, yes. You’re scattergun with your move selection, nothing makes any coherent sense. This leads to you just throwing out holds in a random, patternless mess and praying that eventually you will get something to stick. That may suit some tastes, that’s for sure. But I will stick to my limited selection of paints and still produce better results. I’m Claude Monet to your Jackson Pollock. And hey, there’s room for both in the art world. But I know which one is more aesthetically pleasing and it’s not the one that looks like an explosion in a multicoloured spaghetti factory.
But at least you’ve got a good ankle lock.
Card restates his one point of compliment for Caffrey with such over the top glorification in his voice that you would have to be completely lacking in any intellect to miss the backhandedness.
Chris Card: Of course you have quite frankly amazing stamina. What do they call you? “The Sixty Minute Man.” That’s… less than a quarter of Dylan Viper, yes? What was it, two hundred fifty two minutes in last year’s Rumble? And what are you implying by that “Sixty Minute Man” moniker? That you lack the talent to put an opponent away sooner? It only takes three seconds to win a wrestling match. Maybe it’s that you know you can’t beat me and want to wrestle defensively and take a time limit draw.
Now I know my history makes you feel like much the lesser man, you wouldn’t be hammering the whole “Your history doesn’t matter” message home so very hard. Here’s the secret, Anthony. I know my history matters to you. I know it eats you up inside that someone with a recent history of success can also have a past as equally littered with title victories. Every time, every single time you try and point out that my record means nothing to you, you are showing that it does. If my history truly didn’t matter to you, in your position I would have kept my mouth closed.
Card cocks his head to a side and purses his lips briefly.
You haven’t got Bobby’s belt. And so you take casual swipes at him “stealing your move,” like you’re the first man to use an ankle lock in wrestling. You haven’t been called upon to represent AXW in a cross federation match. Because you didn’t grease the right wheels, right? You’ve got this great in ring talent and no one gives you the time of day. Bobby Barratt doesn’t want to face you because Bobby Barratt vs Jack Diamond has been building for over a year, is a Pay Per View main event for a better belt than you or I hold and either of the men in that match would beat you.
But, yeah, you’ve got a good ankle lock.
Card’s knowing look to the camera is almost overwhelming in it’s self assuredness.
Chris Card: Are you seriously trying to frame this match as legacy defining? For me? For you, maybe. It could mark a major turning point for your career. There’s a few people out there who claim victories over Chris Card as their finest moment in wrestling. But even if you try your hardest, your very, very hardest to frame this match as some great achievement for me… to me it’s a little thing I like to call, “Sunday.” See my legacy is set in stone already. Making a legacy takes time and effort and no small amount of skill. In time, with that effort and your undeniable level of ability some day you might have one yourself.
I have all those things you desire. There is a reason why I own a luxury yacht and you can only afford to rent a green screen. I worked and fought and scratched and clawed to get to where I am today. A point where I could walk away from professional wrestling tomorrow and still be living the high life until I shuffle off this mortal coil. I don’t need validation for my every action, and this is what separates us Anthony, because I already have that validation. I wrestle professionally because I enjoy it. I have fun out there. I walk out to the adulation of my fans and I soak up every second of it. I love this great sport of ours.
Card’s passion shows through. No lies need to be told. Not that Card has a policy of lying.
Chris Card: I don’t need to beat you, Caffrey. I don’t need to do any of this. What time would have been the right time to step away from wrestling and leave a lasting impression on the industry? Probably around 2013. And yet I turn up, lace my boots up and give my opponents the matches of their lives and the fans what they want to see. Me. And I perform for my audience. Because I want to and because I can.
Anyone who calls themselves “The Best” with such frequency has deep seated emotional inadequacies in need of either unquestioning validation or serious therapy. I remember when I used to need that level of validation. I don’t any more. I’m comfortable in my own skin. I don’t lust after titles. I am not desperate to prove myself at every turn. And yet… I’m finding winning them easier than ever. Funny that.
Card points to the title belt he has positioned neatly in shot of the camera.
Chris Card: In wrestling you never want to be playing directly to your opponent’s strengths. You don’t want to go hold for hold with a superior grappler. You don’t want to match power moves with a bigger, more physical opponent. You don’t want to take to the skies against an accomplished aerial artist. You play to your own advantages, dictate your own tempo as it were. That is the key to winning a wrestling match.
Anthony Caffrey, you’ve got a good ankle lock. So does Bobby Barratt. So does Scott Fargo and he’s batting 1000 on actually breaking ankles rather than just talking about it, so his is statistically better than yours. I learned the ankle lock as part of my professional wrestling training, then learned how to counter it, then learned why I don’t need it in my own move selection, then I learned a whole heap of additional interesting counters to it as part of my BJJ training. You’re very much at stage one of that process. Maybe two, I’ll have to check the scouting report again.
Sure you’ve got a title. Good for you. And you’ve put so much stake in that title and that winning streak that you are going to look like the biggest goose in the industry when you lose it. Because I know that your fragile little ego won’t be able to handle the loss. You place your entire image on being this undefeatable big deal? Oh, newsflash. No one is undefeatable and titles change hands. Fact of life. You’re going to end up crying into your cornflakes for weeks after that little belt you wear gets ripped from your clutches.
You’ll be so sad that you won’t even be able to do that trademark sinister smile of yours. You’ll have to use a… gasp with me audience… SECOND facial expression!
Card puts on a mock sinister smile. Then changes to a wide, beaming grin. Followed by a long draw on his expensive cigar and a polite sip of whisky.
Chris Card: And meanwhile, you have to face me. Wrestler against wrestler. Ankle lock against, how shall I put this? Considerably more than that. I’m still a bad match up for you, Anthony. Because I can bring all of my skills against you in the ring, match anything you can…
The background of the shot cuts to green as the image of a ship that was being cast upon in cuts out. The camera pans backwards revealing the carefully set up boom microphone and lighting rig. Card carefully stubs put his cigar and then precisely snips the end off using a cigar cutter, placing the remaining Cuban goodness in a conveniently positioned ash tray. Taking a final sip of his whisky, Card nods to one of his staff members to go get him a refill and smiles for the camera before wrapping up.
Chris Card: ...and then go one step further.
The camera pans backwards again, revealing this time that the entire set was positioned on board the actual, real life aft deck of Card’s massive yacht. Card stifles a laugh as we fade out.
