Mentally, Rick... I'm in a bit of a mess right now, aren't I? My best friend is dying... hell, you yourself may have well killed him back at Slamfest. Revenge is on the mind, anger is clouding my better judgment... and then there's the fact that this particular event signifies the end of a place that I've made vocal is exceptionally important to me.
Going into tonight, despite my desire to be the final NLCW World Champion, or to get revenge for what you did to Chris, or to prove to the world the true heart I have for this sport... I'm going to be distracted, aren't I?
And it's hard for me not to be.
All the while, you'll be focused on the job at hand. You're broken, Rick, but you're not so broken that you can't work your way through me in that ring. You know what you want to do, I'm busy concerning myself with everything else. I'm distracted, and driven, by my emotions when I go out there... and you've detached yourself from everything you can in an effort to set yourself free from the indescribeable pain caused by what's happened with your wife.
You're ready for me, Rick, because you're ready to do the only thing that, at this point in your life, even makes you feel alive anymore. This is your bread and butter, the lifeline to your quickly fading sanity... and-- lucky me-- I'm going to be the final target you'll have here before it all gets taken away from you. What's worse, you and everyone else knows that this entire event is going to kill me inside... to watch the place I love so dearly fade away before my eyes is going to be a grueling experience.
Emotionally, you've already died, haven't you Rick? You've let your former self pass on, focusing instead to distract the shell of you left over from the situation with your wife. Meanwhile, me... well, you said it yourself, didn't you? It's killing me to see this happen. Emotionally, I am dependant upon wrestling to get me and my family by. Without it, I can't provide for them, and without the NLCW... I've no legacy to leave behind somewhere.
In the grand scheme of the industry, the name of Dominic Pericolo is indeed one of the greats... but it's not going to be the most memorable name of all time. The NLCW could have seen to that happening, if it had survived and thrived far and beyond what it's been doing as of late... it's entirely possible I could have made something bigger of myself in the end.
As it stands, I'm the last standing hero in a soon-to-be-dead federation, left with nothing beyond a match with a man many would call insane over a hunk of metal that, in a week's time, will no longer signify anything at all except the memories of the past-- be them fond, or otherwise.
I can remember... back when I had the title, if you shined it just enough, you could look into it and see your reflection staring back at you. They say mirrors are like the windows into a man's soul, and the title... I always felt a strong connection with it, as if it represented something more than just the person who wore it. That title holds the memories of every champion before you, Rick... my own included. It holds everything they loved, everything they hated, and everything they ever hoped to build themselves to be. It holds so much value-- far beyond anything monetarily gauged-- and you... you don't care much for it, do you?
And that kills me inside, too, because you could easily walk out of Avulsion with that title and spit on everything that every person before you ever worked to make out of it. It makes me desperate to stop you from that end, it makes me desperate to give the NLCW one last worthy champion, one last person to show the good the federation had to offer.
Revenge. Desire. Greed. Love. Hate. Anger. Fear. Nostalgia. So many things fuel me going into this match... and that is a dangerous thing for me. The things that fuel you can just as easily be the things that spark your downfall when you lose focus of the one thing at hand. And you're focused on that thing, Rick... you're focused on beating me.
Mentally, some would say you're the loose cannon going into this match... but the truth of the matter is you're far more focused than I could ever hope to be, aren't you, Rick Majors? You're more ready for me than you were for anyone else that you've ever faced in the past, with the NLCW or elsewhere.
Mentally... you have everything it takes to bring about my final fall.