E
EAho
Guest
(FADE IN)
CSWA House Show. Two days before Anniversary 2001. A small arena crowd of about 6,000. Evan Aho uncharacteristically in the ring with a microphone. He wears his wrestling gear with the CSWA World Heavyweight Title draped over his shoulder.
AHO - Either I'm simple or CSWA's roster is making this more complex than it was ever intended to be. For the longest time a wrestler could do his job without any need to explain himself, assuming of course that he wrestled because he loved to wrestle. That's changed. It's not good enough to just wrestle anymore. Now you need an itch to scratch. It's en vogue to have an ulterior motive...something that gives you an extra edge.
Suddenly everybody's looking for a motivation. Hornet wants it because he thinks that Merrit thinks can't do it. Adler wants it because he's tired of being called an underdog. Wicked Sight wants it because he's desperate to carry the company. Stanley wants it because he'll have to go through Hornet to get it. Powers wants it so he can retire on top...
This belt. Fifteen pounds of metal and leather with the words "World Champion" encrusted on its face. Plett said that this is why we all came here. From the slew of motives being blurted out, it would be easy to assume that. Just don't ever speak on my behalf, Mike.
This belt is a goal? A dream? Half this roster is saying that this is the only thing they've ever wanted. Well if any of you want it that bad...if you pine after it that much...have it.
Aho drops the belt to the canvas with an audible "clank". Without a second glance he turns his back on the strap and slides out of the squared circle. A murmur runs through the crowd as Aho backs away from the ring and sits down in a chair near the timekeeper's table.
Go ahead. Take it. Anybody. Someone else can be World Champion.
A minute passes. Aho leans back in the chair casually and eyes the entrance ramp. The crowd is buzzing with whispers of who might be coming out. Time ticks by.
Just walk into the ring, grab that strap and walk out. I won't stop you. I don't care. I never wanted it as much as you.
Evan leans forward in the chair resting his elbows on his knees. He's staring at the entrance ramp as if daring someone to walk out. The arena is getting restless and random shouts can be heard through the crowd...."Powers!" "Pick it up!" "Hornet!"
I'm turning my back. You can take the title without me even seeing.
Aho stands up, crosses his arms over his chest and turns his back on the ring. The crowd pops and begins clap rythmically hoping to bring someone out. Evan slowly shakes his head with his eyes on the ground. The clapping speeds up into a frenzy and the crowd pops again...no one comes out. Suddenly he spins around and stalks back into the ring with microphone in hand. With an uncommon bite in his voice Aho challenges the empty ramp.
Who wants this? Huh? Not one of you. I'm the one you want!
Huge pop that Evan completely ignores and talks through still glaring back towards the locker room.
Like it or not I'm the standard now. Whether you've beat me or never wrestled me, it doesn't matter. Anything and everything that is proven from here on out depends on whether or not you can OUT-WRESTLE me!
Aho thumps his chest once with the microphone and paces the ropes closest to the ramp. The crowd is rockin', seeming to eat up Evan's speech. He seems to calm slightly and he picks up the belt without taking his eyes from the entrance.
I'm taking this to Anniversary and I'm taking this out of Anniversary. Anyone who wants to stop me can come and get it.
(CUE UP: "Control" - Puddle of Mudd)
The crowd erupts. He flicks the microphone to the mat and drapes the belt over his shoulder. Aho saunters up the ramp without a glance back.
(FADE OUT)
CSWA House Show. Two days before Anniversary 2001. A small arena crowd of about 6,000. Evan Aho uncharacteristically in the ring with a microphone. He wears his wrestling gear with the CSWA World Heavyweight Title draped over his shoulder.
AHO - Either I'm simple or CSWA's roster is making this more complex than it was ever intended to be. For the longest time a wrestler could do his job without any need to explain himself, assuming of course that he wrestled because he loved to wrestle. That's changed. It's not good enough to just wrestle anymore. Now you need an itch to scratch. It's en vogue to have an ulterior motive...something that gives you an extra edge.
Suddenly everybody's looking for a motivation. Hornet wants it because he thinks that Merrit thinks can't do it. Adler wants it because he's tired of being called an underdog. Wicked Sight wants it because he's desperate to carry the company. Stanley wants it because he'll have to go through Hornet to get it. Powers wants it so he can retire on top...
This belt. Fifteen pounds of metal and leather with the words "World Champion" encrusted on its face. Plett said that this is why we all came here. From the slew of motives being blurted out, it would be easy to assume that. Just don't ever speak on my behalf, Mike.
This belt is a goal? A dream? Half this roster is saying that this is the only thing they've ever wanted. Well if any of you want it that bad...if you pine after it that much...have it.
Aho drops the belt to the canvas with an audible "clank". Without a second glance he turns his back on the strap and slides out of the squared circle. A murmur runs through the crowd as Aho backs away from the ring and sits down in a chair near the timekeeper's table.
Go ahead. Take it. Anybody. Someone else can be World Champion.
A minute passes. Aho leans back in the chair casually and eyes the entrance ramp. The crowd is buzzing with whispers of who might be coming out. Time ticks by.
Just walk into the ring, grab that strap and walk out. I won't stop you. I don't care. I never wanted it as much as you.
Evan leans forward in the chair resting his elbows on his knees. He's staring at the entrance ramp as if daring someone to walk out. The arena is getting restless and random shouts can be heard through the crowd...."Powers!" "Pick it up!" "Hornet!"
I'm turning my back. You can take the title without me even seeing.
Aho stands up, crosses his arms over his chest and turns his back on the ring. The crowd pops and begins clap rythmically hoping to bring someone out. Evan slowly shakes his head with his eyes on the ground. The clapping speeds up into a frenzy and the crowd pops again...no one comes out. Suddenly he spins around and stalks back into the ring with microphone in hand. With an uncommon bite in his voice Aho challenges the empty ramp.
Who wants this? Huh? Not one of you. I'm the one you want!
Huge pop that Evan completely ignores and talks through still glaring back towards the locker room.
Like it or not I'm the standard now. Whether you've beat me or never wrestled me, it doesn't matter. Anything and everything that is proven from here on out depends on whether or not you can OUT-WRESTLE me!
Aho thumps his chest once with the microphone and paces the ropes closest to the ramp. The crowd is rockin', seeming to eat up Evan's speech. He seems to calm slightly and he picks up the belt without taking his eyes from the entrance.
I'm taking this to Anniversary and I'm taking this out of Anniversary. Anyone who wants to stop me can come and get it.
(CUE UP: "Control" - Puddle of Mudd)
The crowd erupts. He flicks the microphone to the mat and drapes the belt over his shoulder. Aho saunters up the ramp without a glance back.
(FADE OUT)