"I learned this lesson a long time ago..."
The lights come on in an empty gymnasium. It is quite dingy with cobwebs over some of the light fixtures. The camera pans to show the facility is one used to house wrestling events at some time, but exactly when it hard to tell with the condition it is in. The ring looks drab, to say the least, and the ropes have hardly any tension in them -- in fact you can see the bowing on each of the rope levels all the way around this ancient squared circle. Inside the ring stands the object of this recording, "Too Cool" Chris Hopper. The current ACW Gateway Champion speaks again.
"Right here is where I learned it."
The "King of Cool," "The Alpha Male," and the "Count of Monte Fisto" stands at center ring. He is wearing a leather jacket, old-fashioned "Too Cool and the Gang" T-shirt and blue jeans. His hair is slicked back into a jet black pony tail, which combined with the sunglasses and 6'8" muscular frame adds up to one imposing figure.
"Nearly twenty years have passed since I stepped through those ropes and learned what the feel of hard canvas felt like against your back."
He reaches out and touches the top rope, grasping it and feeling how loose it hung. The nostalgic feelings overtaking him as he looks around.
"The first day, this rope right here gave me bruises right under my right arm. It hurt like hell, but that burning only made me want success that much more. And until that day, success had always been easy for me."
Releasing the rope, Chris removes his sunglasses and places them with an ear piece stuck inside the collar of his vintage shirt as he continues to gaze as if in a trance.
"That was the lesson...Success doesn't come easy nor does it arrive quickly. It is a long, pain-staking process that takes years and even a few lucky breaks to achieve."
The trance seems broken as, for the first time, Chris looks up toward the camera. His focus is like steel in its resolve as he continues.
"King, I think it is time we got to know each other better because I see a lot of myself in you."
He allows a smile to finally be seen, a wide grin that makes you wonder if he is being serious or trying to pull a goof on the Rhode Island Mayor, who is obviously watching."
"I grew up in Southern Indiana. It was a very small town of only a few thousand people. My High School class only had 100 kids in it. In Indiana, basketball was the big sport and I worked my tail off to be good at it. However, I excelled in football. I was a baseball letterman too, making me a three-sport star in a small town."
"It's like being Mayor, I assure you..."
"You get anything you want in the town. Speed limits no longer apply to you and the ladies -- well let's just say that I sowed my wild oats far and wide in my youth because there was never a 'no' spoken in my general direction. I was the King of the Castle, the Lord of the Manor...I could do no wrong and I figured following my dream to become a professional wrestler would be no different."
He looks over to the ropes again and taps his hand against the top turnbuckle in the nearest corner, sending dust visibly into the air.
"Then I got here and realized that not everything is handed to me. I actually wasn't the best the moment I walked in the door."
"You see, I know what it is like to be the big fish in a little pond. That is where you are right now...Mayor of a little Rhode Island town on the coast of barely a thousand people. You are the boy-King, pun intended. You don't care why people look up to you: maybe it's fear or perhaps actual respect for the position you hold, either way is fine by you as long as they depend on you. Everything is yours for the taking and you truly believe that you have the perfect plan at all times to get whatever you want, whenever you want it."
The grin disappears to his face, giving way to that steel resolve we saw moments ago. No matter how he may play his emotions below the surface, it is obvious that this business means something, and this match-up perhaps even more.
"But it's time you learned the same important lesson I did back in 1993..."
"A wise man named Nietzsche once said it a different way: 'He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying.' You have had a great start to your career and even have some gold in IWF. Congratulations on that accomplishment. It is really special."
"But you aren't ready yet, Howie. Not by a long shot."
Chris begins walking around the ring as he continues to talk. It is almost as if he is on his own history trip and also communicating to King personally. Is he trying to be a mentor to the Mayor? Perhaps he is truly interested in the kid's success.
"More than once in my career, I bit off more than I could chew. I was only 23 when I thought I could topple a legend in wrestling named Creed. I won the battle when I debuted in UEW by throwing him off the top of a cell structure, but ended up losing the war several weeks later because I thought the old man couldn't cut it anymore."
"And I was wrong."
"If you walk into that ring to face me and have that snide, arrogant smile across your face because you think this old dog won't be able to cut it anymore, then you are setting yourself up for failure. I'm twice the man I was in 1995 when I had my first professional match. I'm fifty times the man I was when I first walked into this gymnasium to learn how to wrestle."
"And that makes me just that much better in this situation."
Finally his gaze comes back to the camera. His seeming trance of nostalgia ended and focus fully pointed toward the future.
"I learned never to take ANY match for granted. I walk in here knowing it is put up or shut up time and the loser goes home. You think because you are younger and faster that you have some form of advantage."
"Then you are dead wrong, Howie."
"As some have pointed out, I have spent the better part of the past decade doing more promoting and less wrestling. Picking and choosing my spots on when to perform regularly. However, I have NEVER stopped training. I have never stopped maintaining my physical fitness. Yes, I'm thirty-seven years old and not as fast as I have ever been. However, you will find out one important piece of information when you watch tapes of my career..."
"Speed hasn't been a factor. Technical ability, strength and a sheer iron will have been what led to my success. Those things, my boy.....those things NEVER go away at ANY age."
That familiar money-making grin comes back across the face of the King of Cool. He seems at ease considering the tournament he is about to become part of.
"You think you are the first man to see the same 'weaknesses?' Ask Spike Saunders, Jesse Ramey, Jimmy Gonze or any of the other ACW superstars that have tested me in the past few months and ended up watching my arm get raised. This tournament is the greatest collection of talent I have ever seen and every match is a potential classic."
"You may think you have it won already, but you will find out that it takes more than just a folder of facts and dates to know how to defeat me. It takes more than tape and practice. You see, I have been a success at everything I have ever done: other sports, commercials, television, and even in business. But despite all my success, I'm first and foremost a wrestler. That is my passion. It is what is at my core. No matter what I try....I'm always going to be a great wrestler first and everything else second."
The ACW Gateway Champion takes his sunglasses form the collar of his shirt and puts them on his face, immediately giving the veteran a more intimidating look.
"You Howie? Well, in the grand scheme of things...as a wrestler....you make a great Mayor."
"I'll see you soon kiddo."
Chris steps through the ropes and exits the ring area as the screen fades to black.