Post by chrismadison on May 15, 2017 23:05:14 GMT
May 13th, 2017
Rio Ranch, New Mexico
Madison sat in a steel folding chair, wearing only his fight shorts after competing in a hard-fought match against a fellow FGA title holder, AMIRA. He sat in the locker room hunched over, allowing for his breath to steady, with a towel covering his head. It should be a time to celebrate; champion versus champion matches showcased some of the best talent companies had to offer, and he was victorious, solidifying himself as one of FGA’s premier talents. But Chris never lived in the moment. It was time to get back to business and onto the next fight awaiting him around the corner.
“Mitsuo Shimada”, he growled before ripping the towel from on top of his head. Madison kept quiet for a moment, looking down towards the ground where the FGA Pride Championship laid out flat. “Up until a few weeks ago I had never heard of you. Then you and Frankie get into some mind-numbing, bitchy little tit for tat over Twitter about nothing meaningful and you thought it'd be wise to throw a jab out in my direction; insinuating that I'm scared and shield myself behind Frankie. Shimada… you truly have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. This whole shtick of being more important than you are is tired and played out! You've never truly accomplished anything in this industry; being successful in small time Indy promotions in Japan doesn't make put you in the position to be crowning yourself king.”
“W4, UJPW, these are places that no one has even heard of, yet they're your only accolades to support this theory that you're of any importance in the Japanese wrestling scene. You sir, are a fraud. You're a big mouthed megalomaniac whose delusions of grandeur are actually stunting your growth as a professional wrestler. It's not easy to succeed in Japan. Trust me, I know. I spent six years on that same independent circuit trying to reinvent myself. Ironically enough, it was my time in Japan that straightened me out and changed my whole outlook on this business. Beforehand, much like you, I thought that I was the be-all and end-all of wrestling. I thought I deserved to be in the spotlight of every promotion I worked for the second I walked through those doors, and that there wasn't a person in the business that deserved to even be mentioned in the same breath as me.”
“But Japan humbled me…”
“I came to appreciate this gift that we all have been given. The opportunity to go out to that ring, in front of an arena filled with appreciative fans, is something that's taken for granted by most. For you, that'll change as soon as we're through at Global Takeover! I'm not the kind of guy that you just step to and make a name off of. That kind of mistake could ruin a promising career…”
Chris paused for a moment to wipe down his arms and chest with the towel he had kept ahold of.
“But that's what happens Shimada; not all decisions are wise decisions. Sure the idea of signing with NJFC and calling out whoever you see as the biggest dog in the yard seems like a good idea. Force yourself into conversations that you'd otherwise not be apart of. But you're the only one that's going to have to deal with consequences that follow. Distractions, blindsides, they come at a cost… I've never claimed to be the face of NJFC. Hell, before they temporarily closed up shop I had only had a pair of matches under their banner. Yet for some reason, you looked at NJFC and thought to yourself, ‘if I'm going to make a lasting first impression, I've got to take out Chris Madison’. I'm flattered that you look to me and see the best that the company has to offer, but I think you're drastically overlooking some of the other top notch talents that they've got under contract. In fact, if I were some of these guys I'd probably take offense to being overlooked. But seeing as you've anointed me as the guy, I'm going to have to make an example out of you.”
Madison pushes up off of his knees, rising to his feet. With the adrenaline from his match earlier in the night beginning to wear off, he shows signs of discomfort by wincing. The old age, wear and tear of competing for seventeen years was finally catching up to him; his bones ached, every joint cracked with the slightest movement.
“I may not be the spring chicken I once was, but trust me Shimada, that doesn't mean that I'm any less lethal between those ropes. Not too long ago I had a fourteen month unbeaten streak going. Since then, only three people have figured out how to keep me down long enough to secure the win: Annie Zellor, Matt Meyhu, and Molly Reid. It's exclusive company, but those three were the only ones to solve the Chris Madison puzzle since July of twenty-fifteen. So when you stand in front of a room filled with dedicated journalists and preach to them that you, of all people, are going to just waltz into NJFC and cut the head off of the dragon before I can reach the top of the mountain, don't get offended when no one rallies behind you."
"Global Takeover is going to be a make-or-break night for you."
"This is the fight you wanted."
"You called your shot when you signed on the dotted line and officially became a NJFC competitor."
"Ballsy... But also foolish. It doesn't matter how hard you hit. It doesn't matter how many power bombs you muster up and dish out. I will systematically break you down and end your hopes of a meteoric rise to the top of the food chain. By the end of Global Takeover, you'll be crawling back to those indy promotions, hoping they didn't witness the epic failure of Mitsuo Shimada!"
Madison snarled for a moment as the feed faded to black.
