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Sean “Triple X” Stevens stared at the official in surreal disbelief. At that present moment, everything that he thought, everything that he believed, everything that he knew had been proven wrong. After thoroughly dominating the young, inexperienced, disrespectful product of Generation Bored – Jason Murray – for the better part of fifteen minutes, he let his guard down, made a rookie mistake in assuming that his opponent was through, and was beaten cleanly.
Well, not completely clean. …but, clean enough.
“I get that I win a lot… I get that. But, just because everybody’s tired of me doesn’t mean that you get to disregard that my foot was touching the fucking ropes!” Trip argued with the official.
The referee raised his arms in the air submissively, in fear of getting hit. “Sean, I’m sorry… If it was, I didn’t see it. I’m just trying to do the job that I was hired to do. I didn’t see your foot on the ropes, I swear!”
Triple X was so angry, he began trembling. “So… you’re out of position, you cost me a match, in a single elimination tournament, and all you’ve got to say is ‘oops… I didn’t see it’? And, I’m supposed to accept that!?” Taking an aggressive step in the officials’ direction, Sean uttered the words “Un-fucking-believable!”, as he grabbed the defenseless referee by the collar, before opting to take the less expensive peaceful route, releasing him and exiting the ring.
There was a mixed chorus of boos, cheers, cat calls, sympathy and support as Triple X made the dreaded fifty foot walk of shame to the curtain, that every loser has to walk, when they’re defeated. Midway up the ramp, the blue-eyed badass looked back in the direction of the ring, where inside, Jason Murray, his opponent that evening, celebrated like he won a World Championship.
From there, the rest was a blur.
There was Poison Ivy, his wife, and her loving embrace, and words of wisdom.
“You wrestled great, Sean. I know you, I know that there’s nothing that I can say that’ll make you not beat yourself up about what happened tonight. Just know that not winning this doesn’t discredit everything that you’ve done, and who you’ve been.”
But, that didn’t work.
There were reporters.
“Mr. Stevens! Mr. Stevens! Over here! Did you underestimate Jason Murray, was he better than you expected?”
Trip sighed. “No.”
“TRIPLE X! Janice Dickerson, NY Times … will you finally be calling it a career?! Do you think that you’ve lost your edge? Have you forgotten what it takes to be the best?”
Trip sighed. “No.”
“Sean! SEAN! Over here!”
“No! Over here!”
“Pose for a picture!”
“Retire.”
“You suck!”
“Can’t handle pressure!”
“Second tier!”
“OVERRATED!”
“FAILURE!”
Deep sigh.
It was all still a blur.
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The cool thing about never ending nightmares is that, despite what we may or may not think in that moment that we’re dealing with them… eventually they end. Usually it’s with an epiphany, motivation, a premonition, or simple words of wisdom.
“Embrace it,” Poison Ivy grabbed her husband’s hand, as they sat in there comfortable diner booth, awaiting their meal.
“Hear my heart, Sean… I’m your biggest fan. Your biggest supporter. Your confidant. Your wife. And, I love everything you’ve done in wrestling. But, somewhere in your journey to be accepted, to prove the doubters wrong, you lost your way.”
Poison Ivy hesitated, and then delivered the fatal blow. “It happened when you became KING. You finally earned that success you always wanted. You got the royal treatment, the awards, the acclaim and accolades… but, that’s not you. You weren’t built to have things handed to you because you were good. You’re the underdog, Sean. That’s where you thrive. The real Sean Stevens walks around with a chip on his shoulder; he convinces himself that he’s not good enough, even though the rest of the world knows that you are. That’s the Triple X you need to be. Because, Sean… If that person never existed, you would’ve never had a prayer or a shot in hell at being the King that you became.”
“Embrace it. Embrace this feeling of failure. It is here where you thrive.”
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FADE: Empty room. Stool. Plain white backdrop, with Sean “Triple X” Stevens seated on it in an all black t-shirt with white bubble letters that simply said: LOSER.
TRIPLE X: In a world where tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, and where one bad judgment could end your life … Wait, let’s start over,” Trip cleared his throat. “In a world where there are few second chances … I’ve been granted one. A week ago, the ULTRATITLE was everything to me. And, that was a mistake. I put it before my wife, I put it before my kid, I put it above everything else, because I thought that that was what I needed to do in order to prove to everyone else … as well as to myself … that I had arrived.
“And, I lost.
“Initially, I was going to turn down the opportunity at a redo. I don’t need any pity, I don’t need any favors, and the only Luck that I believe in is my best friend, who died in an alley to gang violence, God rest his soul. And, despite what it looked like? My trophy mantle is full. I could’ve come out here and scoffed at the notion that I was a loser. But, the truth of the matter is, in this particular situation, I am.
“I lost … and, it hurts like hell. And, if losing in the first round of this prestigious tournament doesn’t make me a loser, I damn sure feel like one. And, this is a feeling that I haven’t felt it in a very long time – two thousand and one, to be exact.
“Back then, I took my ball and went home. I left this industry feeling incomplete, unappreciated, unwanted and unloved. I looked at my peers, the guys that I looked up to, the guys that I strived to be better than, and thought that I was able to do the same things that they could, if not better, had I been given the opportunity, and somehow convinced myself that somebody in the background, pulling all the levers, directing the professional wrestling machine was somehow out to get me. But, I was lying to myself. I didn’t own up to the fact that I simply wasn’t good enough because in doing that, I’d have had to look in the mirror and address the fact that I wasn’t where I told myself I was, and that’s humbling.
“And, if I stood in front of this camera and told you that things would change, that I’ve found the solution to success in this tournament, just because I was granted a second opportunity, I’d still be lying.
“You want the truth, Chad?
“Well, the truth is this… I became King, through something called ‘King of the Cage’, and I stayed King because others said I wasn’t. The cage is where I’m most comfortable, and these single elimination, hyped filled tournaments are where I’m least. I enter these tournaments because I convince myself, that after years and years of success, that I’m still not on the level of my peers – peers that have already accepted me, mind you – and that I won’t be until I win something of this magnitude. But, the reality of the situation is this, the slights, the self-doubt, it’ll never end. The issue isn’t my ability, or the fact that I’m overlooked, or that I’m not seen as an equal … the real underlying issue lives and dies with ME. And, I now understand that.
“And, these tournaments – as much as my pride and ego would like for me to forego my next statement – frighten the shit out of me. And, so I built up a false sense of security, told myself that there was no way a man of my stature could lose as early as I did, and used my gift of gab as a defense mechanism. I told Jason Murray all the right things … that he stood no chance, because I wanted him to believe he stood no chance, because if I could get into his head, half the battle was already won.
“But, like I said… I was lying to myself. What I failed to realize was that this tournament had already gotten into my head, and all that was left was for the Vultures to circle my corpse and pick the remains.
“What I should’ve told Murray was that on any given day, anything can happen. That my experience simply meant that I knew what it took to put myself in position to do great things, but none of that mattered unless I finished the job. What I should’ve told Jason was that I was terrified of losing in the first round. I should’ve embraced that fear, I should’ve used it as a motivator, and I should’ve capitalized on my heightened senses, and won that match.
“So, let me correct all of my prior wrongs with you.
“Chad, I tell people that I am the best wrestler in the world, not because it sounds cool, but because I’ve gone out and proven it. But, I’m not immune to stupidity, and mistakes, and if I overlook you like I convinced myself to overlook my last opponent, I’m going to take that same walk of shame I took last week, as you stand in that ring, arms raised in victory.
“I know that you’re good, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t … you wouldn’t have made it farther than I did, if there wasn’t something there. But I’d also be lying if I didn’t say that I believe that I’m better than you. In every way imaginable, and that the only way I’ll lose to you is if I beat myself. These tournaments have never been my friend, they are the last great obstacle that I must clear in order to achieve all that I’ve dreamed of achieving in this industry. I didn’t become a wrestler because I stumbled on it, or because I needed fast money. My skills, my abilities are God given, and even though that’s not the reason I’m going to win ULTRATITLE … it’s the reason I’m going to beat you in the center of that ring.
“I’m going to figure this tournament out, just like I figured out how to break through that glass ceiling, earn the respect of the greatest wrestlers in the world, and the admiration of billions of people across the country. And, this time, I’m going to do it the right way.
“I’ll see you very soon, sir. Bring your construction boots, it’s going to be a very rough day at the office for you.”
FTB
