Post by Chuck Matthews on Sept 16, 2017 17:54:21 GMT -5
Chuck Matthews: “Nothing ever really changes in this business.
It’s something I’ve sort of picked up on in my ten years of experience. Sure, some things change… the little things, the tiny details. New champions emerge, old veterans get older, retire, die, and make way for the next generation of star. Teenagers and 20-somethings make up most of this business. Most of them don’t last past their 25th birthdays. It’s rare to see anyone in this business make it as long as… well, someone like me.
You don’t do that by fucking around and getting lucky.
No… the things I do, the things I’ve done, the reputation I’ve built… that’s years of work, years of competing, years of putting on the best matches possible, entertaining the people, winning big fights. It’s ten years of blood, of battle scars, of mental strain. It’s ten years of learning everything there is to know, both about the business and about myself.
But, of course, some things never really change. At the end of the day, wrestling is one long, tiresome pissing contest where nobody really wins. It’s a bunch of musclebound meatheads getting in front of a camera and telling the world why they’ll beat the other guy. And when you fight someone like Chuck Matthews, the first go-to is always:
‘Chuck Matthews isn’t that smart.’
And hey, that’s fine, man. I get that. I mean, yeah, most people don’t ENJOY looking that stupid, but I suppose it’s a lifestyle choice, and if you wanna rock it, more power to you. But you’re in a minority. The thing of it is, after ten years of planning, ten years of understanding what makes this business and all of its constituents tick, after ten years of studying not only MY opponents, but myself as well… I’ve learned quite a bit. And I’ve used that knowledge to become one of the best competitors in this industry.
Period.
You want to name an accomplishment, I’ve done it. Any company I’ve stepped foot in, I’ve won gold. Everywhere I go, people know my name. Shit, look at guys like Adrien Cochrane, who Mr. Maverick loves to remind people he beat, and when anything goes slightly askew here in Redemption, mine is the first name he calls.
There’s a reason for that.
My name MEANS something. It carries weight. It commands respect. Thing of it is, anybody worth their shit in this business knows one pure and simple fact:
There is no outsmarting a man like Chuck Matthews.
And yeah, Johnny, I get your hesitation. Who cares, right? So what, you’re fighting the smartest guy in the biz, what’s the big deal? Why is everybody laughing, why does everybody think you’re in over your head?
The reason, Mr. Maverick, is because most people understand exactly what it is I’m capable of. Most people understand that, logically, realistically, there is no reason why I shouldn’t walk in there and stomp out whoever Redemption management hates enough to put against me. More importantly than that, most people count on you being too stupid to do your basic homework.
Now, here’s the thing, and here’s where my fun little plans start to come into play: You’re going to look at my record here in Redemption and you’re going to laugh to yourself. You’re going to think this will be easy, you’ll think you’ve got it down. Chuck Matthews’s record here in Redemption is abysmal. One win in how many weeks? He’s been here well over a month, and he can’t pick up a victory?
Now let me ask you, Mr. Maverick: Do you suppose that’s because I’ve simply lost my touch? Think it may be rust? Old age? A niggling injury that I simply won’t admit?
Or… perhaps, could it be that I’ve planned it that way? Now, sure, they say hindsight is 20/20, any old asshole can go on a losing streak and backpedal by saying he MEANT to do that… but I’m not just any old asshole, am I? And the fact of the matter is, what YOU think really isn’t all that relevant. What should concern you is that when I say yes, a long losing streak was exactly what I needed to have happen, a large portion of those fans are getting chills down their spines because they know what’s coming next.
What’s coming next, Johnny amigo, is phase two.
There’s always a plan, buddy. Always a master plan in place. Always a new trick up my sleeve, a new ace in the hole. You want to know exactly what makes me so dangerous?
The fact that I’ve convinced you that I’m not so dangerous.
So here’s what’s going to happen, Mr. Maverick. I’m going to sit here today, I’m going to look into this camera, and I’m going to tell these kind viewers, very loudly, and very clearly:
I am going to walk into Brooklyn, I am going to compete at Convergence, and I am going to win.
I’m not going to tell them I’m going to murder you, or flay you to an inch of your life. Truthfully, I don’t particularly care what you do before that bell rings, and I care less what you do when the match is over. I don’t have any bogus personal vendetta against you. I don’t have to get violent, I don’t have to threaten to destroy everything you love.
I’m going to do what wrestlers do. I’m going to compete. And I’m going to win.
Because simply put, there’s really nothing you can do that I can’t stop. There’s no advantage that you hold over me. There’s no gameplan that I can’t see coming, that I can’t adapt to, that I can’t stop.
And that, Mr. Maverick, DOES make me a very… dangerous… man.
Good luck.”
It’s something I’ve sort of picked up on in my ten years of experience. Sure, some things change… the little things, the tiny details. New champions emerge, old veterans get older, retire, die, and make way for the next generation of star. Teenagers and 20-somethings make up most of this business. Most of them don’t last past their 25th birthdays. It’s rare to see anyone in this business make it as long as… well, someone like me.
You don’t do that by fucking around and getting lucky.
No… the things I do, the things I’ve done, the reputation I’ve built… that’s years of work, years of competing, years of putting on the best matches possible, entertaining the people, winning big fights. It’s ten years of blood, of battle scars, of mental strain. It’s ten years of learning everything there is to know, both about the business and about myself.
But, of course, some things never really change. At the end of the day, wrestling is one long, tiresome pissing contest where nobody really wins. It’s a bunch of musclebound meatheads getting in front of a camera and telling the world why they’ll beat the other guy. And when you fight someone like Chuck Matthews, the first go-to is always:
‘Chuck Matthews isn’t that smart.’
And hey, that’s fine, man. I get that. I mean, yeah, most people don’t ENJOY looking that stupid, but I suppose it’s a lifestyle choice, and if you wanna rock it, more power to you. But you’re in a minority. The thing of it is, after ten years of planning, ten years of understanding what makes this business and all of its constituents tick, after ten years of studying not only MY opponents, but myself as well… I’ve learned quite a bit. And I’ve used that knowledge to become one of the best competitors in this industry.
Period.
You want to name an accomplishment, I’ve done it. Any company I’ve stepped foot in, I’ve won gold. Everywhere I go, people know my name. Shit, look at guys like Adrien Cochrane, who Mr. Maverick loves to remind people he beat, and when anything goes slightly askew here in Redemption, mine is the first name he calls.
There’s a reason for that.
My name MEANS something. It carries weight. It commands respect. Thing of it is, anybody worth their shit in this business knows one pure and simple fact:
There is no outsmarting a man like Chuck Matthews.
And yeah, Johnny, I get your hesitation. Who cares, right? So what, you’re fighting the smartest guy in the biz, what’s the big deal? Why is everybody laughing, why does everybody think you’re in over your head?
The reason, Mr. Maverick, is because most people understand exactly what it is I’m capable of. Most people understand that, logically, realistically, there is no reason why I shouldn’t walk in there and stomp out whoever Redemption management hates enough to put against me. More importantly than that, most people count on you being too stupid to do your basic homework.
Now, here’s the thing, and here’s where my fun little plans start to come into play: You’re going to look at my record here in Redemption and you’re going to laugh to yourself. You’re going to think this will be easy, you’ll think you’ve got it down. Chuck Matthews’s record here in Redemption is abysmal. One win in how many weeks? He’s been here well over a month, and he can’t pick up a victory?
Now let me ask you, Mr. Maverick: Do you suppose that’s because I’ve simply lost my touch? Think it may be rust? Old age? A niggling injury that I simply won’t admit?
Or… perhaps, could it be that I’ve planned it that way? Now, sure, they say hindsight is 20/20, any old asshole can go on a losing streak and backpedal by saying he MEANT to do that… but I’m not just any old asshole, am I? And the fact of the matter is, what YOU think really isn’t all that relevant. What should concern you is that when I say yes, a long losing streak was exactly what I needed to have happen, a large portion of those fans are getting chills down their spines because they know what’s coming next.
What’s coming next, Johnny amigo, is phase two.
There’s always a plan, buddy. Always a master plan in place. Always a new trick up my sleeve, a new ace in the hole. You want to know exactly what makes me so dangerous?
The fact that I’ve convinced you that I’m not so dangerous.
So here’s what’s going to happen, Mr. Maverick. I’m going to sit here today, I’m going to look into this camera, and I’m going to tell these kind viewers, very loudly, and very clearly:
I am going to walk into Brooklyn, I am going to compete at Convergence, and I am going to win.
I’m not going to tell them I’m going to murder you, or flay you to an inch of your life. Truthfully, I don’t particularly care what you do before that bell rings, and I care less what you do when the match is over. I don’t have any bogus personal vendetta against you. I don’t have to get violent, I don’t have to threaten to destroy everything you love.
I’m going to do what wrestlers do. I’m going to compete. And I’m going to win.
Because simply put, there’s really nothing you can do that I can’t stop. There’s no advantage that you hold over me. There’s no gameplan that I can’t see coming, that I can’t adapt to, that I can’t stop.
And that, Mr. Maverick, DOES make me a very… dangerous… man.
Good luck.”
