Playing the Game, Living the Lie
FADE IN...
Troy Douglas sits on a chair in front of the garden variety EPW Aggression backdrop. Douglas does not resemble a character from a popular movie series, rather he wears the attire he finished his most recent workout in; black sweatpants, sleeveless grey t-shirt, black wrestling shoes, and taped wrists. On his face, a look of intensity mixed with anger. He stares directly at his camera, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep caused by old memories coming back to haunt him.
DOUGLAS:
All of that from a man who spent his first few months in the business in deep philosophical conversation with a skull.
Nothing to go on there, I just thought that it was entertaining. Let's get down to business.
Christian, I'm glad you finally made time in your busy schedule of preening in front of the mirror, ordering custom FUBU tracksuits, adding to your "Reasons Why I love Myself" list, and finding out the best vantage points into Lindsay Troy's hotel room, to accept my challenge. It doesn't really matter where you answered, because, as it turns out, I got a shot at GWE's World Title, which I of course intend to take every advantage of.
But, I'm not here to promote my match with Boogie Smallz. No, I asked for you Sands, and it's you I've got.
Now, you asked the reason for why I directed a challenge specifically at you. Looking at your possible reasons, I'd have to give the ever-popular multiple choice answer:
E) None of the above.
I have no grudge against you Sands. In the ring, you impress the hell out of me. Remember, I was waiting backstage for my own epic match at Battleground Britain when you went 66 with Rabesque. About 90 minutes later, I went through hell with your buddy Clapper and that guy who Dupree put in the insane asylum last Revolution.
Neither of us won our match that night. But, we both left Wales with more respect from that crowd than either of us had ever had at any point in our careers. It was then, that I knew I wanted to face you. Just like you, Christian, I'm a wrestler, but before that, I'm a competitor. I want to face the best whenever I can. In fact, you could say I have an itch to test myself against the best, and then hang right with them.
Gemini. Rob Sampson. Kevin Powers. Dan Ryan. I went toe to toe with all of them. Now, it's you. The EPW World Champ. My purpose, to go go out onto the floor of the Ice Palace, wrestle my best, and, at the end of the night, show the world that Marcus Wescott isn't the only man worthy of a shot at your belt.
I'm doing this, not to make a name for myself, but to continue my legacy as one of the best competitors in this sport today.
Now, I'd like to address some of the rather derogatory accusations you made against me, Christian.
I understand that you went through hell with your brother Devon, that you two damn near killed each other in a non-sanctioned match. But that does not, in any way, shape, or form, give you the prerogative to question my integrity, my love for this business.
You want to call a second torn ACL a "bump on the knee"? Fine. We'll call a spade a spade. Yes, I left for months at a time. That in NO WAY means that I don't love this business. Right now, this is all I have left. The very reason that I left the ring after my knee injury is because if I didn't, I wouldn't just be out of the ring right now, I wouldn't be walking. That's how screwed up my right knee was.
The death in the family? Much, much more than you can possibly comprehend.
Let me give you a history lesson, Christian.
I never knew my mother, Christian. She died due to complications during childbirth, and neither myself nor my late father ever really got over that. He became absorbed in teaching and coaching, and I just tried to live a normal childhood. He raised me on his own, and all I've ever wanted to do is make that great man proud of me.
Then, I met the girl of my dreams. It's a little hackneyed, but it was love at first sight. I'll spare you all the waxing poetic, but suffice it to say that we were head-over-heels.
Then, it happened. GXW was in Scotland, and I get a call that someone had shot and killed my father and my fiancee while they were at my house. Some guy thought nobody was home and was looking for something to steal. He ended up with life in prison for murder. Of course, nobody has been told the story about the third life that was almost lost that night.
That hotel balcony looked so inviting. There was nothing left. My body was battered, and I knew I'd soon have to go in for another surgery to keep my career afloat. The two people who I cared most about were gone. It was only a call from a good friend that kept my from taking my life that night. Almost happened a second time, the night after I dropped the X-treme title to Black, and I thought my career might be over. Again, an opportune phone call pulled me back.
It was then I knew I had to get out. I collapsed into myself, and spent four and a half months with a single thought on my mind:
"I have to get back in that ring."
Counseling, convalescing, and contemplating for four and a half months got me back here, and now I'm at a higher point in my career than any previous moment. That's my story, Christian. Now you know, so don't you EVER question my love for this sport, or my integrity, ever again.
That shows me nothing but the callous, egotistical bastard that you are. Like a said, you're a hell of a champion, Christian.
But, as a man, you're the one who's severely lacking.
No, I'm not going to be like Cameron or Marcus, out to rid the world of the Dark Lord Sands. Instead, I'm going to do what I've always done. I'm going to get out in that ring and I'm going to wrestle, THE RIGHT WAY. When it's over, and I've had my say, I'll have my arm raised. I'll do everything in my ability to make that a reality.
Then we'll see who has the integrity, and who has the massive Napoleon complex.
Hell, I'm half expecting a handicap match. Me against you and your humongous ego. Even so, you'll get the best that I've got in Tampa. After that, we'll know who the man with the skill, the instinct, the intellect, and the desire is. I'll think you'll find that I've got them all in droves.
So champ, I'll see ya at the end of the road.
...FADE OUT
