Post by Kyle Shane on Jun 4, 2018 21:21:11 GMT -5
As an interesting experiment, I wonder what would happen if I gave up.
Pulled a complete and total Tyler Scott of the whole deal. Blew off my responsibility and squandered my good faith that people had placed in me. Just walked in to Living a Legacy, laid down on the ground. Handed the title over to him. What would happen if I gave the World title as much respect as was going to be afforded it in considering that, even for an instant. If I gave the belt over willingly to Tyler Scott, and thrust the burden of this company onto his sloping shoulders, how he would deal with the weight of carrying such a thing on his back. Because it takes a lot to do this. And if my control is anything to gauge by, given the exact same opportunity as I have, Tyler Scott would blow it as soon as it was off the ground. Tyler Scott would never be able to deal with it. The low effort, lackadaisical, hanging fruit that defines a man such as a Transgressor. He'd botch it just the way he did his chance at the North American title.
Which bears out the question of why this experiment is even taking place. How does it send a message. I realize that the more fit competitors on merit are wrapped up in the finals of the Icemann Tournament, but you're telling me that a man fails twice to capture the North American Title, fails in the first round of the tournament, fails to requalify in the Last Chance Battle Royale, and only gets a title shot because at the last second, he decides to debut a new look, say that he's tired of being overlooked, and attacks someone? I thought that Dominator and I proved, last pay-per-view around, to Johnny Matthews and everyone that you don't inherit the worthiness of fighting for a title just by hitting the champion from behind and posing with a fucking belt.
I take the utmost offense at that because of who and what I am. Kyle Shane, Game Changer, Catalyst, having been performing at my highest level since December of 2016 for Pure Class Wrestling fans, giving effort that never strays to the level of "I just phoned this in, I'm sorry" or "squandered, wasted arrow." I have fought for every single ounce of credibility I have, and I have paid off by beating the best that this company has going. Grimm, Seromine, Non Compos Mentis, Nathan Saniti, Whitey Ford, Gabriel, Justin Michaels, Eira, my CV reads like a damn PCW Hall of Fame. And yet Tyler Scott reads off as someone who "could be great", "is underrated", "Has potential", "Could be a pretty fine Underground or North American champ if he tried". I'm sorry to be blunt, but if this belt that I put time and work in is going to mean anything, it deserves the effort that I put in to innovate and push myself should be matched. And it's not. Which in turn devalues the results of The Icemann Invitational, and everything below it.
I mean if we're talking off pure effort, and how much work we'd gotten to be here, then the challenges laid down on Trauma should be reversed, because Stacy Jones put in a masterful performance against Dominator, she's been working hard at getting recognized and it would be an honor to face her. Whereas Tyler, he didn't even care about his Last Chance, coulda taken it or left it, and we're gonna buy that he's really, really gonna try hard this time, guys.
Defective, broken, wasted.
My high school English teacher once told me you can't write "Fuck" on a piece of paper and hand it in as an essay. And in the final analysis, that's what we have here. If I had my druthers I'd do that, but it doesn't serve my message. And as I said, I'm not a hack like Tyler.
So when you talk about Living A Legacy, and the main event, doesn't it make sense that only one of us even has a legacy here to speak of? And the other one only has a string of excuses, embarassing defeats and failures?
I am watching the 2018 TIIT finals with a sharp eye because moments before I run through Tyler like shit through a canebreak I'm coming right down to that ring, marching up to look the winner in the eye, and sealing our one moment in time. A frozen slice of spacetime, the hands of the clock pointing five minutes until the midnight of their shattered title aspirations. Theirs, Tyler's, anyone and everyone's.
I wanted to end this keeping with the clock theme, so I'll just close it off thiswise- there is still time to get out of my way. And, out, bitches.
Pulled a complete and total Tyler Scott of the whole deal. Blew off my responsibility and squandered my good faith that people had placed in me. Just walked in to Living a Legacy, laid down on the ground. Handed the title over to him. What would happen if I gave the World title as much respect as was going to be afforded it in considering that, even for an instant. If I gave the belt over willingly to Tyler Scott, and thrust the burden of this company onto his sloping shoulders, how he would deal with the weight of carrying such a thing on his back. Because it takes a lot to do this. And if my control is anything to gauge by, given the exact same opportunity as I have, Tyler Scott would blow it as soon as it was off the ground. Tyler Scott would never be able to deal with it. The low effort, lackadaisical, hanging fruit that defines a man such as a Transgressor. He'd botch it just the way he did his chance at the North American title.
Which bears out the question of why this experiment is even taking place. How does it send a message. I realize that the more fit competitors on merit are wrapped up in the finals of the Icemann Tournament, but you're telling me that a man fails twice to capture the North American Title, fails in the first round of the tournament, fails to requalify in the Last Chance Battle Royale, and only gets a title shot because at the last second, he decides to debut a new look, say that he's tired of being overlooked, and attacks someone? I thought that Dominator and I proved, last pay-per-view around, to Johnny Matthews and everyone that you don't inherit the worthiness of fighting for a title just by hitting the champion from behind and posing with a fucking belt.
I take the utmost offense at that because of who and what I am. Kyle Shane, Game Changer, Catalyst, having been performing at my highest level since December of 2016 for Pure Class Wrestling fans, giving effort that never strays to the level of "I just phoned this in, I'm sorry" or "squandered, wasted arrow." I have fought for every single ounce of credibility I have, and I have paid off by beating the best that this company has going. Grimm, Seromine, Non Compos Mentis, Nathan Saniti, Whitey Ford, Gabriel, Justin Michaels, Eira, my CV reads like a damn PCW Hall of Fame. And yet Tyler Scott reads off as someone who "could be great", "is underrated", "Has potential", "Could be a pretty fine Underground or North American champ if he tried". I'm sorry to be blunt, but if this belt that I put time and work in is going to mean anything, it deserves the effort that I put in to innovate and push myself should be matched. And it's not. Which in turn devalues the results of The Icemann Invitational, and everything below it.
I mean if we're talking off pure effort, and how much work we'd gotten to be here, then the challenges laid down on Trauma should be reversed, because Stacy Jones put in a masterful performance against Dominator, she's been working hard at getting recognized and it would be an honor to face her. Whereas Tyler, he didn't even care about his Last Chance, coulda taken it or left it, and we're gonna buy that he's really, really gonna try hard this time, guys.
Defective, broken, wasted.
My high school English teacher once told me you can't write "Fuck" on a piece of paper and hand it in as an essay. And in the final analysis, that's what we have here. If I had my druthers I'd do that, but it doesn't serve my message. And as I said, I'm not a hack like Tyler.
So when you talk about Living A Legacy, and the main event, doesn't it make sense that only one of us even has a legacy here to speak of? And the other one only has a string of excuses, embarassing defeats and failures?
I am watching the 2018 TIIT finals with a sharp eye because moments before I run through Tyler like shit through a canebreak I'm coming right down to that ring, marching up to look the winner in the eye, and sealing our one moment in time. A frozen slice of spacetime, the hands of the clock pointing five minutes until the midnight of their shattered title aspirations. Theirs, Tyler's, anyone and everyone's.
I wanted to end this keeping with the clock theme, so I'll just close it off thiswise- there is still time to get out of my way. And, out, bitches.
