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For Her

JonathonWinters

League Member
Joined
Mar 26, 2006
Messages
10
Points
0
For Her.

It was all for her.

Mary didn’t know it, but everything he’d ever set out to accomplished was for her.

Accomplishing great feats through the inspiration of a great woman was not one of the most original concepts for Jacob McKail to adopt, but at the moment, originality was the last thing on his mind. Earlier, he’d risked the pounding glare of the summer sun and visited his wife’s grave for the first time since the funeral. He’d been avoiding the visit ever since rolling into town three days ago, but now he wondered why he’d been so reluctant to take the trip, but despite his ignorance the answer to that particular query was transparent to him; it brought back all those emotions McKail had been trying to suppress for months. However, it seemed as thought the visit also provided him with clarity to keep his mind occupied for weeks.

It had been six months to the day since Mary died--six months? Had it really been that long? --and made him promise to be all that he could be within the wrestling industry, since she made him promise to achieve those self-imposed goals he had long since abandoned in much grimmer times. She’d been around to witness him hit the rock-bottom of his career, going through gimmick after painful gimmick, trying desperately to entertain the crowd in order to get a fatter pay check. He’d tried put a brave face on it, but Mary saw through his façade without trying to and knew how unhappy it made him. Crappy gimmicks and money grabbing bookers, definitely wasn’t the reason why McKail got into the wrestling industry. No, he wanted to fight and more importantly, he wanted to win.

That’s precisely why she made him promise to fulfil those dreams. She wanted him to be happy once she was gone, she wanted him to move on with his life and accomplish those simple dreams of success he’d harboured since adolescence. Back then, in that damned hospital helplessly watching his wife die in front of him, it seemed as though he could do it; it seemed as though he could take on the world and win. His conviction was absolute, his determination was unwavering and he truly believed that it would only be a matter of time before the wrestling industry would succumb to his talent, to his might.

But on the road, travelling from arena to arena, living in one crumby little motel from to the next, McKail’s confidence in his ability to keep the sacred promise to Mary had faltered somewhat by his lack of progression in his home federation’s hierarchy. That’s not to say that he hadn’t actually accomplished anything to speak of; victories had rolled in by the dozen and in only his second match within the GCW, McKail was granted a Television title opportunity, which he took full advantage of by taking it away from its former owner without too much difficulty.

He held that damned title for weeks; weeks of defending it against everyone and anyone who challenged him for it. His single-minded determination got him that far, but once the victories came rolling in, overconfidence was irrevocably spawned and of course, he eventually lost the thanks to that overconfidence, not to mention the considerable outside interference. Some workers backstage, talked at him in the locker room after the match--he didn't really paying much attention to them--and tried to get across to him the idea that the loss was nothing to be ashamed of; the odds were too great and nobody could be expected to overcome them. Those people were fools. McKail should’ve overcome his opponent no matter the costs, no matter the odds pitted against him.

Because that’s precisely what a true champion should do; win despite the odds, take on the world and win…

Perhaps McKail should’ve realised it then. He wasn’t a true champion, not yet. A true champion doesn’t win every single match he competes in. No, a true champion is created over time, through experience; experience of winning, losing, having the odds stacked firmly against and being at the top of the game. McKail had made a good start by winning the latest round of Primetime Central’s Infinite Gauntlet competition, but that’s all it was--a start. He needed more experience fighting the big leagues, he needed experience fighting for something that was worth a hell of a lot more to him than a transitory sense of well being.

And that’s when the idea struck him, like a well placed punch to the gut.

McKail first caught wind about it a couple of days back. One of the other guys in the locker had saw an advert in a local wrestling magazine and he’d raved about right up until the end of the show. McKail hadn’t thought it about it for weeks; it was only now, after he came back from the cemetery and was left to reflect on what’d actually accomplished within the last six months that it actually struck a chord.

Gold Rush.

The opportunity to have a direct shot at the Unified CSWA title.

Was there anything around more tempting in the wrestling industry today?

Was there anything more suitable around for McKail to prove to himself that he was on the right track--well on the way to keeping his promise to Mary?

He doubted it.

That’s why he’d enter the competition and that’s precisely why losing wasn’t an option.
 

GreggG

Moderator
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
810
Points
18
JonathonWinters said:
For Her.

It was all for her.

Mary didn’t know it, but everything he’d ever set out to accomplished was for her.

Accomplishing great feats through the inspiration of a great woman was not one of the most original concepts for Jacob McKail to adopt, but at the moment, originality was the last thing on his mind. Earlier, he’d risked the pounding glare of the summer sun and visited his wife’s grave for the first time since the funeral. He’d been avoiding the visit ever since rolling into town three days ago, but now he wondered why he’d been so reluctant to take the trip, but despite his ignorance the answer to that particular query was transparent to him; it brought back all those emotions McKail had been trying to suppress for months. However, it seemed as thought the visit also provided him with clarity to keep his mind occupied for weeks.

It had been six months to the day since Mary died--six months? Had it really been that long? --and made him promise to be all that he could be within the wrestling industry, since she made him promise to achieve those self-imposed goals he had long since abandoned in much grimmer times. She’d been around to witness him hit the rock-bottom of his career, going through gimmick after painful gimmick, trying desperately to entertain the crowd in order to get a fatter pay check. He’d tried put a brave face on it, but Mary saw through his façade without trying to and knew how unhappy it made him. Crappy gimmicks and money grabbing bookers, definitely wasn’t the reason why McKail got into the wrestling industry. No, he wanted to fight and more importantly, he wanted to win.

That’s precisely why she made him promise to fulfil those dreams. She wanted him to be happy once she was gone, she wanted him to move on with his life and accomplish those simple dreams of success he’d harboured since adolescence. Back then, in that damned hospital helplessly watching his wife die in front of him, it seemed as though he could do it; it seemed as though he could take on the world and win. His conviction was absolute, his determination was unwavering and he truly believed that it would only be a matter of time before the wrestling industry would succumb to his talent, to his might.

But on the road, travelling from arena to arena, living in one crumby little motel from to the next, McKail’s confidence in his ability to keep the sacred promise to Mary had faltered somewhat by his lack of progression in his home federation’s hierarchy. That’s not to say that he hadn’t actually accomplished anything to speak of; victories had rolled in by the dozen and in only his second match within the GCW, McKail was granted a Television title opportunity, which he took full advantage of by taking it away from its former owner without too much difficulty.

He held that damned title for weeks; weeks of defending it against everyone and anyone who challenged him for it. His single-minded determination got him that far, but once the victories came rolling in, overconfidence was irrevocably spawned and of course, he eventually lost the thanks to that overconfidence, not to mention the considerable outside interference. Some workers backstage, talked at him in the locker room after the match--he didn't really paying much attention to them--and tried to get across to him the idea that the loss was nothing to be ashamed of; the odds were too great and nobody could be expected to overcome them. Those people were fools. McKail should’ve overcome his opponent no matter the costs, no matter the odds pitted against him.

Because that’s precisely what a true champion should do; win despite the odds, take on the world and win…

Perhaps McKail should’ve realised it then. He wasn’t a true champion, not yet. A true champion doesn’t win every single match he competes in. No, a true champion is created over time, through experience; experience of winning, losing, having the odds stacked firmly against and being at the top of the game. McKail had made a good start by winning the latest round of Primetime Central’s Infinite Gauntlet competition, but that’s all it was--a start. He needed more experience fighting the big leagues, he needed experience fighting for something that was worth a hell of a lot more to him than a transitory sense of well being.

And that’s when the idea struck him, like a well placed punch to the gut.

McKail first caught wind about it a couple of days back. One of the other guys in the locker had saw an advert in a local wrestling magazine and he’d raved about right up until the end of the show. McKail hadn’t thought it about it for weeks; it was only now, after he came back from the cemetery and was left to reflect on what’d actually accomplished within the last six months that it actually struck a chord.

Gold Rush.

The opportunity to have a direct shot at the Unified CSWA title.

Was there anything around more tempting in the wrestling industry today?

Was there anything more suitable around for McKail to prove to himself that he was on the right track--well on the way to keeping his promise to Mary?

He doubted it.

That’s why he’d enter the competition and that’s precisely why losing wasn’t an option.


(CUT TO: Troy Windham in his state-of-the-art Hawaii television studio, cradling his CSWA Unified Title..)

TROY: Losing isn't an option, but it certainly is inevitable. You really should be getting over her, pal. Let's face facts -- she had all the posters and all the pin-ups of yours truly, anyway, and if she didn't kill herself from the horrors of being married to a sadsack such as yourself, I'd take her away from you and throw her out in the recycling. (FTB)
 

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