Post by Julianna DiMaria on Jun 17, 2017 16:54:55 GMT -5
Redemption All-Female Invitational
Public Statement #1
“Dime a Dozen”
I’ve been thinking about my first round match of the 2017 All-Female Invitational tournament that Redemption is hosting and I can’t keep the question of “where have I seen this before?” out of my mind. It feels like going into this match with Tegan Blackwell that I am reliving the same movie again and again. First off, nobody expects me to win this tournament. Let’s get that out of the way. With me being part of a developmental roster for crying out loud and all these promotions being represented by veterans who have been world champions at least once, I can’t say I fault the train of thinking. That’s fair enough. I am not going to complain about that. But what really makes me sio angry is the crowd that thinks that I will be a first round elimination. Seriously. Why am I going through this again? Why do I always have to be underestimated? It’s almost like people don’t WANT to respect me or admit that they were wrong about me. Again, I’ve lived this movie. Over in GOL, with the Super Falcon Cup, nobody even gave me a chance to defeat Coby fucking Quik let alone Jack Tillman and yet, that’s exactly what I’ve done. I’m now a semifinalist in that tournament.
Heck, even the idiots from the Tillman camp called it a “fluke”, so even with a win over a man of that stature I still can’t get any respect. But how new is it? I deal with this level of disrespect all the time in the WCG locker room where you have everyone there afraid to direct their vitriol toward me every time I speak out against their precious champion. So am I surprised that there are those that think that I can’t beat Tegan in the first round? No. But I’m not upset by it either, as disrespectful as it is. I get it. People look at me and think I’m just this pretty face out of San Diego: blonde hair, looks to kill, that sort of crap. And yet, every time I step into this ring, I prove them all wrong. What the hell do I need to do to get some respect around here? “Look” like a wrestler? Do I need to shave my head almost to the scalp, dye it black, and get a nose ring to be considered a wrestler? Because people appear to like that ugly, hideous, disgusting alternative grunge look in women’s wrestling these days. I’m not going to let it bother me too much. Besides, it’s only a matter of time before I become WCG West Coast Champion and I just might as well be the one that takes home the Super Falcon Cup. If one of those two things happen, perhaps I can silence the critics.
One of them being, of course, Tegan Blackwell. Poor baby! She underestimates me. I can tell with her tweets. “Kick me in the face, snap my arm, move on, easy enough”. That’s it right? That easy? She thinks she’s so high and mighty just because some Japanese icon trained her. Is she another one of those Indy darlings that wrestling fans nowadays rave about? Wouldn’t surprise me. It doesn’t matter who trained her. It doesn’t matter where she trained. It doesn’t matter if she’s wrestling in Japan or in Mexico or in Hell where she belongs, NO PUN INTENDED by the way, she’s stepping into a Redemption ring with someone that has a contract with the company. A developmental contract? Sure. But a contract nonetheless. She’s in the ring with a second generation San Diego superstar with wrestling in her DNA! Half-Italian with the toughness, grittiness and the killer instinct of her father, Half-German with the grace, the sophistication and the greatest technical ability she could ever have from her mother. This match could go so many different ways. She can come out of the gate wanting to kill me and wanting to beat me down, and I can counter her and wear her out, breaking her down piece by piece the way my mother would. Or, I can match that with the aggressiveness and the intensity my father passed onto me and even OUTBRAWL the mentally insipid bitch! She doesn’t know which side of my family I am going to tap into. Which is a microcosm for my public perception.
Nobody knows what they are really getting from me. Looks can be deceiving after all. I don’t fear her penchant for hurting people. It’s all an overblown mind game if you really think about it. I’m not bringing bad puns to the table in round one. I’m bringing what I know I am capable of, what my critics refuse to acknowledge that I am capable of and I am going to shock the world again since more than half of the god damn universe thinks I’m just a round one loser that is simply fodder for their precious Indy darling. Now when I beat her and move on to round two…
Can we please move on to another movie?
“Underdog” is getting boring and annoying!
Public Statement #1
“Dime a Dozen”
I’ve been thinking about my first round match of the 2017 All-Female Invitational tournament that Redemption is hosting and I can’t keep the question of “where have I seen this before?” out of my mind. It feels like going into this match with Tegan Blackwell that I am reliving the same movie again and again. First off, nobody expects me to win this tournament. Let’s get that out of the way. With me being part of a developmental roster for crying out loud and all these promotions being represented by veterans who have been world champions at least once, I can’t say I fault the train of thinking. That’s fair enough. I am not going to complain about that. But what really makes me sio angry is the crowd that thinks that I will be a first round elimination. Seriously. Why am I going through this again? Why do I always have to be underestimated? It’s almost like people don’t WANT to respect me or admit that they were wrong about me. Again, I’ve lived this movie. Over in GOL, with the Super Falcon Cup, nobody even gave me a chance to defeat Coby fucking Quik let alone Jack Tillman and yet, that’s exactly what I’ve done. I’m now a semifinalist in that tournament.
Heck, even the idiots from the Tillman camp called it a “fluke”, so even with a win over a man of that stature I still can’t get any respect. But how new is it? I deal with this level of disrespect all the time in the WCG locker room where you have everyone there afraid to direct their vitriol toward me every time I speak out against their precious champion. So am I surprised that there are those that think that I can’t beat Tegan in the first round? No. But I’m not upset by it either, as disrespectful as it is. I get it. People look at me and think I’m just this pretty face out of San Diego: blonde hair, looks to kill, that sort of crap. And yet, every time I step into this ring, I prove them all wrong. What the hell do I need to do to get some respect around here? “Look” like a wrestler? Do I need to shave my head almost to the scalp, dye it black, and get a nose ring to be considered a wrestler? Because people appear to like that ugly, hideous, disgusting alternative grunge look in women’s wrestling these days. I’m not going to let it bother me too much. Besides, it’s only a matter of time before I become WCG West Coast Champion and I just might as well be the one that takes home the Super Falcon Cup. If one of those two things happen, perhaps I can silence the critics.
One of them being, of course, Tegan Blackwell. Poor baby! She underestimates me. I can tell with her tweets. “Kick me in the face, snap my arm, move on, easy enough”. That’s it right? That easy? She thinks she’s so high and mighty just because some Japanese icon trained her. Is she another one of those Indy darlings that wrestling fans nowadays rave about? Wouldn’t surprise me. It doesn’t matter who trained her. It doesn’t matter where she trained. It doesn’t matter if she’s wrestling in Japan or in Mexico or in Hell where she belongs, NO PUN INTENDED by the way, she’s stepping into a Redemption ring with someone that has a contract with the company. A developmental contract? Sure. But a contract nonetheless. She’s in the ring with a second generation San Diego superstar with wrestling in her DNA! Half-Italian with the toughness, grittiness and the killer instinct of her father, Half-German with the grace, the sophistication and the greatest technical ability she could ever have from her mother. This match could go so many different ways. She can come out of the gate wanting to kill me and wanting to beat me down, and I can counter her and wear her out, breaking her down piece by piece the way my mother would. Or, I can match that with the aggressiveness and the intensity my father passed onto me and even OUTBRAWL the mentally insipid bitch! She doesn’t know which side of my family I am going to tap into. Which is a microcosm for my public perception.
Nobody knows what they are really getting from me. Looks can be deceiving after all. I don’t fear her penchant for hurting people. It’s all an overblown mind game if you really think about it. I’m not bringing bad puns to the table in round one. I’m bringing what I know I am capable of, what my critics refuse to acknowledge that I am capable of and I am going to shock the world again since more than half of the god damn universe thinks I’m just a round one loser that is simply fodder for their precious Indy darling. Now when I beat her and move on to round two…
Can we please move on to another movie?
“Underdog” is getting boring and annoying!