FADE IN……
The front porch of a ranch in Texas, near Schulenburg. The huge wrap-around porch stretches to either side of the shot, where Dan Ryan sits on a chair looking out over the valley in front of him. The house, perched on a hill overlooks miles of hill country, including a large lake just to the East of the shot but still in view.
Ryan: “Why, Doc?”
“Why didn’t you just say you had nothin’? Why didn’t you just say there was nothing left to say? Or did you? Let me clarify your premise for you, Mr. Silver.”
“You’re the one living in this world of black and white. You’re trying really really hard to drag me down into it, but I’m not biting. You want it simple. Simple and straight to the point. Not only are your opinions of me two dimensional and shallow due to a complete lack of study of any kind really…but your assertions as to my own opinions are painted with a two dimensional brush as well. You’ve had the labels made up. Doc Silver thinks Dan Ryan is the product of lucky genetics and hype. Based on everything that pretty much everyone who actually follows my career knows, well….That’s stupid. Then there’s…what you believe my opinion of you is…”
“Dan Ryan thinks Doc Silver is a stupid gimmick and a bumbling fool.”
“Well Doc, you said you were a gimmick. I did think it was stupid. DO…think it’s stupid. But let’s not get silly here. You acknowledged the gimmick, so own it. And if you own it as you claim to, if you’re having your discussions with Felix about band issues and album quality and have turned it into a career…good for you, Doc. Good for you. I never doubted that it’s amazing that you managed to make a career out of being a groupie. I just said it’s stupid. And it is, Doc. It’s very stupid. Just because you’ve managed to convince some promoters that you matter doesn’t mean that I have to think you do, does it Doc? I mean, that’s okay right? You can be loved and admired by some, but not me can’t you? That doesn’t stick in your craw too much for you to go on, I’m sure. But I don’t really think you’re a bumbling fool, Doc. Not to the degree you seem to assume.”
“What I actually think, if you care to hear from me instead of from inside your own head – is that you are reactionary and boring. Reactive and not proactive. I think you came into this match assuming you could state what was, and then have me follow behind and react to it the way you expect. Bullet number one leads to two leads to three and so on. The formula usually works for you I’m sure. That would explain the cookie cutter opening salvo, yes? And you have the nerve to accuse me of going through the motions? To me Doc? And this doesn’t just apply to you – but there is no more sure sign of a man going through the motions than a man who just can’t wait to get to his catchphrase. It’s a simpleton early career move at best and a veteran hanging onto glory move at worst. This isn’t early in your career so what does it say to you? You wanna make fun of Cameron Cruise but you use the same modeus operandi do you not? Is there a reality check coming that I ….just won’t like, Doc?”
“You’ve beaten bigger and better than me.”
Smile…
“Do you really wanna go there?”
“Who on your list have I not beat, Doc? Randalls? I don’t think that match has ever happened. But Randalls is it. How about Troy Windham? Is he on your list? Mark Windham? How about your buddy GUNS…who you travel the countryside with borinating the promotions into folding at your feet? Craig Miles? Eddie Mayfield? Come on, Doc. We can do this all day. You have some more? Nova? Ravager? D!? How about Rob Sampson or Kevin Powers? Anarky? Felix Red? Should we go through my big wins and main events alphabetically or chronologically? Either way the idea that you’d bring such a subject up with me is laughable. You’re not scared because you’ve beaten bigger and better, Doc? Well hey…tick tock.”
“You do realize that almost everyone I’ve gotten in the ring with for the last five years has said that exact thing don’t you? How it’s just another match, how just because I’m ‘Dan Ryan’ that doesn’t mean anything to them. It’s always about the hype, never the respect for the work. It’s a good thing I don’t feel the need to beg for respect, Doc. But the bottom line is, they all say it and usually they all lose anyway. I lose some. So what? I usually get my win back. I’m kinda relentless like that. It comes from a need to compete, a need to do what’s ingrained in my DNA. It sure as hell doesn’t come from hype. I spent the last two years wrestling in an indy fed in Canada because I wanted to check out some of the guys from up there we keep hearing about… Ravager, Bruce Richards, D!, Jake Phoenix and so on. It wasn’t for publicity. No one around here even knew I was up there unless I told them myself. I went to compete Doc. I went to get away from the hype, not to run to it.”
“I have that aura. Yeah, that kinda goes with the territory. So what? I’m supposed to apologize because Larry Tact pukes in his dressing room before a match with me? That’s my problem? He used the ‘this is just Tuesday’ line on me too, by the way.”
“But you? You can’t even climb up over one concept and see someone else as a complex individual because all you are is what you throw on the screen. Or are you? Conflicting reports from your own damn mouth would confuse anyone listening to you. Early on it’s just a gimmick, you don’t really go around wearing sweatpants and Garbage t-shirts. Now, you’re really just a Garbage fan who wrestles, discussing the merits of one album or the next with your buddy. Who cares? You’re just making this s**t up as you go along anyway. Throw it against the wall and see how I react to it. Set up the chess board and wait for me to move. Too bad your opening move was so friggin’ weak. You talk about mercy as though it were an absolute.”
“Mercy.”
“It wasn’t mercy that saved A1E. I already told you the reason, but you don’t care and I’m tired of trying to teach a kindergartener how to color. Because no matter how many times I tell you the sky is blue, you just keep using that damn burnt siena crayon. That’s fine, Doc. Think what you want. I don’t care either. Now ain’t we both content?”
“You have no true character, Doc – and that’s the real problem. You sat around for three days just thinking of something to say to me and what you came up with was that you don’t really know me. Do you think it’s wise to publically announce that you don’t pay attention? Is it a smart move to come right out and say how out of touch with the wrestling product of the last ten years you are?”
“Doc, if you’d paid attention to GXW then you’d know what turned me from a standard wrestling gimmick like you into a real person tired of being a tool to line a promoter’s wallet, why and how. If you’d paid attention to the CSWA, you’d know where I broke out on the national and global scene, the politics of how I got there, why, and under what difficult circumstance. If you’d paid attention to NFW, which you were actually competing in at the same time, you’d know about the mother of my first child, who her father was and the power he exerted over NFW in Japan at the time. Then again, you didn’t even remember that we were in the same company together so I imagine remembering things that actually were broadcast on television is way too much to ask. If you paid attention to EPW…or A1E… or the aforementioned places I’ve already mentioned, you’d know many other things. Among the things that have come up publically are my entire family, their names, where I grew up, what my father did for a living and the importance of that tidbit, the name of my deceased daughter and how she died, the names of my wife, secretary, current daughter, friends, enemies, favorite color and time of day I like to shower.”
“But ’we’ don’t really know the real Dan Ryan, do we Doc?”
“The people who matter do, buddy. And if anyone cared to pay attention, they would too. So either do the homework yourself or stop pretending you give a damn, Doc. I’m not here to be your little poodle in the middle of the center ring who dances for you again just because you didn’t bother to look the first time. If you really wanna know, go get a god**mned Blockbuster card.”
“I’m no mystery. I’m just what I always was. I am who I am, Doc – and you, sadly are who you are. You’ll keep beating that ‘prove to me you still have the drive’ horse to death but you don’t even have the basic knowledge to take that angle and run with it properly. You can’t name the most simple things about who I am, yet you make it a selling point in your little promo. REAL NICE MOVE. Real good call there, Mr. strategy.”
“Tell you what – do me a favor and, before you accuse me of half assing it… lay out all of these accusations you intend to make on the table first and figure out if they’re just surface nonsense? Or if you can actually discuss them intelligently should I call your bluff and give a little deeper meaning to it. All week long it’s been the same ol’ s**t…. how it’s just another match, how I’m just another ‘roid monkey with a bunch of hype. It’s a bunch of shallow, nonsensical bulls**t that you can’t back up.”
“And the latest? I’m an aloof, private shut-in who nobody really knows. Yeah, except I live my fu**in’ life on TV and the world sees every damn second of it unless I force the cameras out. What’s he like when the mask finally slips….Jesus. At this point, Doc? You’re just really really freakin’ tiresome. Really tiresome.”
“The only thing I want you to free me from, Doc…the only thing that you’ll be allowed to free me from – is this line of bulls**t directionless dialogue of yours. Spend three more days and come up with something else random, Doc. That’s all you seem to be good for anymore.”
“There’s nothing left to say anymore. I’m extremely comfortable with who I am, just like you say you are. I have absolutely nothing to prove to you and there’s nothing left you could say to impress me. You’ve proven yourself to be one more in a long line of challengers to my big bad legendary status to give me a week of corny dialogue and show me absolutely f**kin’ nothing. So in the end, all we have to convince anyone watching who’s more likely to win this match is my track record…and yours.”
“I wouldn’t trade my career for yours if I was high on crack or drunk. Throw in like…five number one draft picks and a trade kicker, some yoohoo and some red skittles. That could be a starting out point.”
“But despite whatever you are, whoever you are and whatever you want us to believe….whether you’re relaxing at home or in the middle of the street in the rain collapsed down on your knees, hands to the sky in your ‘Wolverine kneeling over his dead girlfriend and vowing vengeance’ pose, your threats are shallow, your arguments weak and your assertion that errrrrrr…. Deerrrrr…. ‘what I’m gonna get… is beat’….”
“You know...I don’t even care anymore. You can’t send me home to my wife and daughter as anything, Doc. I am a family man. I will go home after all of this, watch a little TV, play with my daughter and have a nice long restful sleep. But I’m also gonna beat you down like you’ve never been beaten down in your whole life, chief. See I’m one of those guys you always heard about but never really saw up close.”
“I’m the total package, Doc.”
Wink…
“Enjoy your retirement, Doc. It’s well earned, and it’s been a long time coming. Good luck in your golden years. Tell GUNS I said hi.”
FADE OUT………
