Post by Rick Majors on Oct 7, 2019 21:18:21 GMT -5
Deadly Intentions has always been a meaningful event for me. It was where I made my PCW debut back in 2012 where I came within a foot of eliminating Grimm and winning the Deadly Rumble in my first match in the company. Unfortunately, from that high came many, many lows. To say that I was lost in the wilderness would be disrespectful to the wilderness. It doesn’t deserve to be called as dark and hopeless as my life was at that point.
However, things got better. They got much better, in fact. By the time 2016 rolled around I was the winner of the Deadly Rumble. Unfortunately, my own crisis of confidence got in my way. I didn’t believe that I could compete for the PCW World Championship. I didn’t have faith in myself. I put my number one contendership on the line and lost it.
In 2017, faith was an issue again, but instead of not having faith in myself, I put too much faith into someone else. The final two participants in the 2017 Deadly Rumble were Seromine and Gabriel. At the time I truly believed that it was my duty to leave the ring and let “My Lord” win the match. He stopped me, but only so he could throw me out himself. He needed the glory. He needed to be seen as a conqueror. Seromine needed to humiliate Gabriel one more time, and I went along with it.
Both of those men are dead now. Gabriel claimed that he was Rick Majors “reborn,” but he was nothing but a mask I wore to hide from the world. I believed that if I changed my name, if I followed a different “god,” if I gave myself for a cause, I would be rewarded. I was desperate. I was looking for something – anything – that I could use as protection from a world that I believed had hurt me. Gabriel never really existed. He was Rick Majors all along.
By the 2018 Deadly Rumble, I was a shell of a man. I was still wearing that Gabriel mask and I was still going through the motions, but there was a part of me that knew it was all a lie at that point.
And Jason Willard knew it too. Our time as “holy rollers” was at its end. His downfall was coming. He was defeated by Kyle Shane and he lost his hair. He was defeated by Grimm and he lost his face. Then he lost his sanity. Sure, now he might claim that it’s all a ruse to trick people into underestimating him, but if that’s what it is, why can’t he give it up?
He’s broken.
I killed Seromine when I defeated him at Living a Legacy, but Jason Willard remained. I nearly killed him too, but this time he was the one desperately clutching at anything he could find to help him. He tried to bring back The Anarchist. He tried to bring back Destiny. And, for one night, it worked. He beat me. He humiliated me again.
But I see through it this time. The Anarchist would be a worthy foe. He was a devastatingly successful competitor who once struck fear into everyone in PCW. Jason Willard is no longer the Anarchist. He might try, he might put on the costume and use the name, but it’s the same as me pretending to be Gabriel. It’s a security blanket that hides the real issues inside. He hopes that the chaos and confusion he causes directs the attention away from reality. He hopes that no one really sees him. He hopes that no one looks in his eyes. Because, unlike the rest of him, his eyes don’t lie.
I’ve looked into those eyes many, many times. They were what made me truly believe he was my Lord. And, yes, at the time I truly believed it. But I don’t see fire in those eyes anymore. I don’t see defiance. I don’t even see the grandiose lust for glory that I once did. In his eyes I only see fear.
Because he’s losing. He’s losing just like I am. Both of us are growing older. Both of us have only so much time left on this earth and even less time left in this business. And we’re leaving wrestling much, much worse than we came into it. Most do. And that scares him, just like it scares me. One day the screen will be dark. One day a PCW event will happen and not only will Rick Majors and Jason Willard not be featured, but we won’t even be remembered. This business is a cruel one. If you aren’t on screen, if you aren’t “The Man,” you’re nobody. And we’re about to become nobodies.
That’s why he was so desperate to become a god. He wanted to be remembered. But he won’t be. And that’s not even all that worries him. He has the life he has because of wrestling. His wife, his children, his fortune, it all exists because he wrestles. Sure, maybe not directly, but indirectly at least. Wrestling has made him who he is and who he is has built that life. And I know he’s worried that he can’t sustain it all on his own once he’s no longer a wrestler. I know that because I have that same fear. This is what we do. For most of our adult lives we have been wrestlers, but what happens when one day we’re not? It terrifies us. We’re not that different in this respect.
Jason Willard has more to lose than I do. Once my career ends, I’m faced with darkness and uncertainty, but I don’t have a family. I don’t have to worry about what the end of my wrestling career will mean for my wife or my children because I don’t have any. Jason Willard does and it terrifies him to his very core because he doesn’t know what their life will be like once all of this is over. Wrestling changes you. I makes everything else different. You can’t just walk in the door one day, after spending so many years on the road, and just be “dad.” What are you going to do with your life, Jason? What are you going to do with your mind? How will you adapt? There’s a reason the two of us are still doing this and it’s because we don’t know what else to do.
So I’m going to make it easy for Jason Willard. He won’t have to worry about his life after wrestling. He won’t have to worry at all. Because he will have no life. I’m not just planning on defeating him, I’m not just planning on making him submit… I’m planning on ending it all for him. Even if it kills me to do it, Jason Willard is not walking out of this match. He’s going to scream. He’s going to beg. He’s going to look at me with those eyes, filled with fear and uncertainty, and he’s going to plead with me to spare him.
I won’t.
Jason Willard doesn’t deserve to walk back home, sit down beside his wife, and play with his kids. Even if he could, he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t fucking deserve it. He doesn’t get to have a life because he tried to take mine.
So I’ll have to take his.
Deadly Intentions has always been a meaningful event for me. And there will be no more meaningful moment than when I feel Jason Willard take his last breath.
This ends now. Au Revoir.
However, things got better. They got much better, in fact. By the time 2016 rolled around I was the winner of the Deadly Rumble. Unfortunately, my own crisis of confidence got in my way. I didn’t believe that I could compete for the PCW World Championship. I didn’t have faith in myself. I put my number one contendership on the line and lost it.
In 2017, faith was an issue again, but instead of not having faith in myself, I put too much faith into someone else. The final two participants in the 2017 Deadly Rumble were Seromine and Gabriel. At the time I truly believed that it was my duty to leave the ring and let “My Lord” win the match. He stopped me, but only so he could throw me out himself. He needed the glory. He needed to be seen as a conqueror. Seromine needed to humiliate Gabriel one more time, and I went along with it.
Both of those men are dead now. Gabriel claimed that he was Rick Majors “reborn,” but he was nothing but a mask I wore to hide from the world. I believed that if I changed my name, if I followed a different “god,” if I gave myself for a cause, I would be rewarded. I was desperate. I was looking for something – anything – that I could use as protection from a world that I believed had hurt me. Gabriel never really existed. He was Rick Majors all along.
By the 2018 Deadly Rumble, I was a shell of a man. I was still wearing that Gabriel mask and I was still going through the motions, but there was a part of me that knew it was all a lie at that point.
And Jason Willard knew it too. Our time as “holy rollers” was at its end. His downfall was coming. He was defeated by Kyle Shane and he lost his hair. He was defeated by Grimm and he lost his face. Then he lost his sanity. Sure, now he might claim that it’s all a ruse to trick people into underestimating him, but if that’s what it is, why can’t he give it up?
He’s broken.
I killed Seromine when I defeated him at Living a Legacy, but Jason Willard remained. I nearly killed him too, but this time he was the one desperately clutching at anything he could find to help him. He tried to bring back The Anarchist. He tried to bring back Destiny. And, for one night, it worked. He beat me. He humiliated me again.
But I see through it this time. The Anarchist would be a worthy foe. He was a devastatingly successful competitor who once struck fear into everyone in PCW. Jason Willard is no longer the Anarchist. He might try, he might put on the costume and use the name, but it’s the same as me pretending to be Gabriel. It’s a security blanket that hides the real issues inside. He hopes that the chaos and confusion he causes directs the attention away from reality. He hopes that no one really sees him. He hopes that no one looks in his eyes. Because, unlike the rest of him, his eyes don’t lie.
I’ve looked into those eyes many, many times. They were what made me truly believe he was my Lord. And, yes, at the time I truly believed it. But I don’t see fire in those eyes anymore. I don’t see defiance. I don’t even see the grandiose lust for glory that I once did. In his eyes I only see fear.
Because he’s losing. He’s losing just like I am. Both of us are growing older. Both of us have only so much time left on this earth and even less time left in this business. And we’re leaving wrestling much, much worse than we came into it. Most do. And that scares him, just like it scares me. One day the screen will be dark. One day a PCW event will happen and not only will Rick Majors and Jason Willard not be featured, but we won’t even be remembered. This business is a cruel one. If you aren’t on screen, if you aren’t “The Man,” you’re nobody. And we’re about to become nobodies.
That’s why he was so desperate to become a god. He wanted to be remembered. But he won’t be. And that’s not even all that worries him. He has the life he has because of wrestling. His wife, his children, his fortune, it all exists because he wrestles. Sure, maybe not directly, but indirectly at least. Wrestling has made him who he is and who he is has built that life. And I know he’s worried that he can’t sustain it all on his own once he’s no longer a wrestler. I know that because I have that same fear. This is what we do. For most of our adult lives we have been wrestlers, but what happens when one day we’re not? It terrifies us. We’re not that different in this respect.
Jason Willard has more to lose than I do. Once my career ends, I’m faced with darkness and uncertainty, but I don’t have a family. I don’t have to worry about what the end of my wrestling career will mean for my wife or my children because I don’t have any. Jason Willard does and it terrifies him to his very core because he doesn’t know what their life will be like once all of this is over. Wrestling changes you. I makes everything else different. You can’t just walk in the door one day, after spending so many years on the road, and just be “dad.” What are you going to do with your life, Jason? What are you going to do with your mind? How will you adapt? There’s a reason the two of us are still doing this and it’s because we don’t know what else to do.
So I’m going to make it easy for Jason Willard. He won’t have to worry about his life after wrestling. He won’t have to worry at all. Because he will have no life. I’m not just planning on defeating him, I’m not just planning on making him submit… I’m planning on ending it all for him. Even if it kills me to do it, Jason Willard is not walking out of this match. He’s going to scream. He’s going to beg. He’s going to look at me with those eyes, filled with fear and uncertainty, and he’s going to plead with me to spare him.
I won’t.
Jason Willard doesn’t deserve to walk back home, sit down beside his wife, and play with his kids. Even if he could, he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t fucking deserve it. He doesn’t get to have a life because he tried to take mine.
So I’ll have to take his.
Deadly Intentions has always been a meaningful event for me. And there will be no more meaningful moment than when I feel Jason Willard take his last breath.
This ends now. Au Revoir.