Post by Chuck Matthews on Oct 1, 2017 19:45:54 GMT -5
Chuck Matthews stands in his usual empty room, nothing but a solitary light on the Smartest Man in Wrestling.
Chuck Matthews: “We find ourselves in an interesting time, don’t we? Redemption as we once knew it ceases to exist, and in its place, NGW stands once more…
And here we go again, still trapped in this endless, dreary cycle. Booking, hype promos, match, booking, hype promos, match, booking, hey look someone wants to do an interview, THAT’s new! It’s all very tired.
A couple weeks ago, at Convergence, I made a mistake. Don’t get used to that. Ordinarily, when I make a plan, that plan goes off without a hitch. It’s part of what makes me the smartest man in this business. Two weeks ago, I made a mistake, and it cost me. It doesn’t happen often. It likely won’t happen again during my tenure here. But I don’t claim to be a god. I’m a man… a very intelligent man, a very talented man, but a man nonetheless.
So I’ll get back up, I’ll move on to the next match, and I’ll do this same tired old thing again at Dissention. And the cycle… goes… on.
You, Mr. Chase… you haven’t yet grasped that, have you? You came off a win at Convergence, hats off to you. You fought Aiden Morrow, beat Aiden Morrow, you’re riding high… but that doesn’t really impress me much, truthfully.
Here’s the thing you’ll learn when you get to the point in your career that I have: You learn that there’s just nothing left to prove. There’s nothing left to DO. You’ve been at the top of the mountain. You’ve sold out arenas, you’ve wrestled everywhere from gymnasiums to football stadiums. You’ve main evented. You’ve held tag titles, world titles, secondary titles, international titles, continental titles, you’ve won tournaments, you’ve won yearly awards, you’ve had match of the year candidates, you’ve had match of the year winners. You’ve won the big matches, you’ve won the little matches and you’ve won all the matches in between. You’ve been a referee. You’ve tried commentary. You’ve run the show, you’ve been a commissioner, you’ve been an advisor to the general manager, you’ve owned a promotion… there is literally no aspect to this business that I have not conquered. There is no element to the game that I haven’t mastered. There’s no match I haven’t tried my hand at, and yeah, I was better at some than others, and some I would never want to do again. But I competed. And I was good.
Shit, I was one of the best.
But eventually, you find yourself in a position where you wonder why you continue to do it. You wonder, at what point does it just become about pride, and nothing more? You want that one last chance to reach the top of the food chain. You strive for that one last run with the big belt. You want to be the world champion one final time.
Eventually, there never WILL be that ‘one last time.’ Eventually, you’ll need to come to terms with the fact that your body is worn down. Ten long years of beatings, of bumps and bruises, scars, blood loss. Being grated against steel mesh. Being hurled from the tops of steel cages. Being brutalized with every weapon you can think of, and several that you can’t. It takes its toll. Your mind takes a beating of its own. Every master plan, every strategy, every preparation for your next big match… it takes a little bit out of you.
Wrestling and I have a long and complicated relationship. Once upon a time, it was my entire life. I spent every waking hour, every breath I had focusing on my next match. Training in the gym, studying opponents, watching tapes, honing my skills, my moves. I spent years, clawing my way, forming alliances, taking chances, taking risks, putting my body and my career on the line…. I put everything on the line.
I’m one of those lucky few who managed to make it big. I created opportunities for myself. When I saw my chance, I grabbed it with both hands and I never let go.
But… things change. I changed.
It’s become such a low priority. I’m focused on other things; my personal life. My business. My hobbies. Once upon a time, yeah, wrestling was all I really cared about. Now? It just doesn’t hold that same appeal. I see these guys talk about it all the time: The day you stop getting nervous, stop getting excited for a match, that’s the day you need to quit this business.
I remember that kid. I remember that guy, who used to wake up on match day feeling fired up, feeling ready to roll, ready to punch a guy in the face, slam someone into a mat. He would have burned entire cities to the ground to get what he was after. He had PASSION. He had INTENSITY.
I haven’t seen that kid in years now. And believe me, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wake up looking for him.
Maybe that’s why I lost last week, in a match I should have won. Maybe that’s why I’m not a champion right now. Maybe that’s why my tenure in Redemption… in NGW now… has been so lackluster. There’s just no fire. No interest. This industry bores me. There’s no challenge to it anymore. There’s no real reason to stick around. I’ve got nothing more to offer this business, and truthfully? It has nothing left to offer me.
So why keep going?
That, my friends, is the answer to a riddle that’s eluded me for years now. I’m don’t know what it is that keeps me tied to the wrestling world. I’m not sure where that tether is, that chain that keeps me bound here, forbidden to move on to bigger and better things. I’m still… fucking… here.
So I’ll go in there this week. I’ll fight Anton Chase. I’ll beat him. Not because I have to. Not even because I want to. But because it’s what I do. It’s what I always do. Yeah, I’m sure he’ll have something to say about that… something about disrespecting the business, like I give a single rat’s ass what some kid has to tell me about an industry I already won… but these matches, like all the others, don’t really mean anything. Not to me. Not to the bigger picture, the grander scheme of things. No… Plenty of build, plenty of hype, all these videos for a fight that means… nothing.
It all means nothing.”
Chuck Matthews: “We find ourselves in an interesting time, don’t we? Redemption as we once knew it ceases to exist, and in its place, NGW stands once more…
And here we go again, still trapped in this endless, dreary cycle. Booking, hype promos, match, booking, hype promos, match, booking, hey look someone wants to do an interview, THAT’s new! It’s all very tired.
A couple weeks ago, at Convergence, I made a mistake. Don’t get used to that. Ordinarily, when I make a plan, that plan goes off without a hitch. It’s part of what makes me the smartest man in this business. Two weeks ago, I made a mistake, and it cost me. It doesn’t happen often. It likely won’t happen again during my tenure here. But I don’t claim to be a god. I’m a man… a very intelligent man, a very talented man, but a man nonetheless.
So I’ll get back up, I’ll move on to the next match, and I’ll do this same tired old thing again at Dissention. And the cycle… goes… on.
You, Mr. Chase… you haven’t yet grasped that, have you? You came off a win at Convergence, hats off to you. You fought Aiden Morrow, beat Aiden Morrow, you’re riding high… but that doesn’t really impress me much, truthfully.
Here’s the thing you’ll learn when you get to the point in your career that I have: You learn that there’s just nothing left to prove. There’s nothing left to DO. You’ve been at the top of the mountain. You’ve sold out arenas, you’ve wrestled everywhere from gymnasiums to football stadiums. You’ve main evented. You’ve held tag titles, world titles, secondary titles, international titles, continental titles, you’ve won tournaments, you’ve won yearly awards, you’ve had match of the year candidates, you’ve had match of the year winners. You’ve won the big matches, you’ve won the little matches and you’ve won all the matches in between. You’ve been a referee. You’ve tried commentary. You’ve run the show, you’ve been a commissioner, you’ve been an advisor to the general manager, you’ve owned a promotion… there is literally no aspect to this business that I have not conquered. There is no element to the game that I haven’t mastered. There’s no match I haven’t tried my hand at, and yeah, I was better at some than others, and some I would never want to do again. But I competed. And I was good.
Shit, I was one of the best.
But eventually, you find yourself in a position where you wonder why you continue to do it. You wonder, at what point does it just become about pride, and nothing more? You want that one last chance to reach the top of the food chain. You strive for that one last run with the big belt. You want to be the world champion one final time.
Eventually, there never WILL be that ‘one last time.’ Eventually, you’ll need to come to terms with the fact that your body is worn down. Ten long years of beatings, of bumps and bruises, scars, blood loss. Being grated against steel mesh. Being hurled from the tops of steel cages. Being brutalized with every weapon you can think of, and several that you can’t. It takes its toll. Your mind takes a beating of its own. Every master plan, every strategy, every preparation for your next big match… it takes a little bit out of you.
Wrestling and I have a long and complicated relationship. Once upon a time, it was my entire life. I spent every waking hour, every breath I had focusing on my next match. Training in the gym, studying opponents, watching tapes, honing my skills, my moves. I spent years, clawing my way, forming alliances, taking chances, taking risks, putting my body and my career on the line…. I put everything on the line.
I’m one of those lucky few who managed to make it big. I created opportunities for myself. When I saw my chance, I grabbed it with both hands and I never let go.
But… things change. I changed.
It’s become such a low priority. I’m focused on other things; my personal life. My business. My hobbies. Once upon a time, yeah, wrestling was all I really cared about. Now? It just doesn’t hold that same appeal. I see these guys talk about it all the time: The day you stop getting nervous, stop getting excited for a match, that’s the day you need to quit this business.
I remember that kid. I remember that guy, who used to wake up on match day feeling fired up, feeling ready to roll, ready to punch a guy in the face, slam someone into a mat. He would have burned entire cities to the ground to get what he was after. He had PASSION. He had INTENSITY.
I haven’t seen that kid in years now. And believe me, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wake up looking for him.
Maybe that’s why I lost last week, in a match I should have won. Maybe that’s why I’m not a champion right now. Maybe that’s why my tenure in Redemption… in NGW now… has been so lackluster. There’s just no fire. No interest. This industry bores me. There’s no challenge to it anymore. There’s no real reason to stick around. I’ve got nothing more to offer this business, and truthfully? It has nothing left to offer me.
So why keep going?
That, my friends, is the answer to a riddle that’s eluded me for years now. I’m don’t know what it is that keeps me tied to the wrestling world. I’m not sure where that tether is, that chain that keeps me bound here, forbidden to move on to bigger and better things. I’m still… fucking… here.
So I’ll go in there this week. I’ll fight Anton Chase. I’ll beat him. Not because I have to. Not even because I want to. But because it’s what I do. It’s what I always do. Yeah, I’m sure he’ll have something to say about that… something about disrespecting the business, like I give a single rat’s ass what some kid has to tell me about an industry I already won… but these matches, like all the others, don’t really mean anything. Not to me. Not to the bigger picture, the grander scheme of things. No… Plenty of build, plenty of hype, all these videos for a fight that means… nothing.
It all means nothing.”
