| Time to meet my maker; CD2V | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 28 2008, 09:15 PM (239 Views) | |
| Perfection | Jun 28 2008, 09:15 PM Post #1 |
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The Reflection of Perfection
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June 2002 Tokyo Dome Everytime I think about the unfortunate turn of events that took place that fateful night, it makes my stomach cringe. But I cannot help but replay the happenings of that day in my head over and over. I know the outcome, I know what took place, the tragedy of it all. And it hurts me each and every time, both physically and emotionally yet I still cannot seem to put it behind me. It was the last stop of the tour before we headed back to the states. It was my third tour in Japan and with each tour, my fan base got bigger and bigger. My notariety and name value went through the roof, along with my income. And not to mention my ego. I was becoming this hot shot, this sought after commodity, everyone wanted me to go to their promotion, I had promoters eating out of my hand. I loved every minute of it! I had made some acquaintances along the way, some who I would find myself bumping into later down the road: Howie Banks, Johnny Blaze, Doomsday, and a young upstart with loads of potential named Nathan Paradine. To the Japanese crowd, he was simply The Nomad. I remember the night before, when Nomad and I were discussing our match for the next day's festivities. I invited him to my executive suite for a few drinks and some appetizers. "Nice living situation. Must have cost a fortune!" he said as his eyes sparkled at the amenities the room had to offer. I let out a sarcastic chuckle, "Hell do I know. I'm not the one paying for it!" "Wait, what?" "Shizuki is paying for it. He's paying for yours too right?" I asked. "No. I'm paying for my own room." "Ouch." I cringed at the preceeding statement, because I knew the suites weren't bargain city. He gave me a glare and shook his head, "And I'm on the bottom floor!" I guess in the promotions eyes, we were on two different wave lengths. And who could blame them. I was responsible for selling out arenas and having to turn away crowds. He on the other hand was just another face in the crowd. I carried him and everyone else on the tour and it was finally coming to a close, we would go out with a bang. Or at least I would. But I wouldn't find that out until weeks later when I was shown a video that answered all my questions. As the night progressed, we agreed on the finish of the match: I would cleanly pin him with a Picture Pefect. We also agreed on different spots we would do in the match, including me kicking out of his Vindication powerbomb finisher. "Just don't be too over the top tomorrow night." "Over the top? What do.." From the corner of my eye I saw Sasha walk into the bathroom wearing a silk robe. She stopped for a brief second and blew me a kiss. My heart started to race a million times per second. I had to have her, right then and there. But one problem. Nomad was still in the room. He started going on about how he wasn't going to be overdramatic and he would do his end of the deal. Yadda yadda yadda. Blah, blah, blah, blah... BLAH Yeah whatever dude. "Alright see you tomorrow," "But wait.." I heard him say. Oops, too late, door is shut. And duty [Sasha] calls. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Four minutes, you have four minutes," the referee said, reminding us of the time we had left to bring the match to a close. I gave a few right hands to the side of Nomad's face, "Powerbomb." It was time to do the powerbomb spot. I grabbed hold of his wrist and went for an irish whip and as planned, he ducked under and kicked me in the gut. He threw me between his legs and wrapped his arms around my waist. I began to feel him lift up so I pushed against his thighs to give him that extra boost. We had done this move plenty of times throughout our tour, and it was always a textbook powerbomb. But for some reason, on this night it was different. Who knew that a wrestling finisher, would actually finish me off. As I lifted up off of the ground I tried to spot the crowd so that I could sell my face of terror, to put over the fact that this move was the end all of end alls. I saw the crowd alright, but upside down, and on the wrong side. I felt his grip loosen and right then and there, I knew something was about to go terribly wrong. "Cody? Cody? Stay back, play the crowd. Cody? Cody? Oh no." I could hear everything that was going on, I could hear the referees voice, and I could hear Nomad playing the crowd. But I couldn't move. I stared blankly up at the arena lights. Everything began to move in slow motion as the referee threw up his arms in an X, symbolizing that something went wrong. The bastard broke my neck. As well as shattered my hopes and dreams of being a big name superstar upon my return to the states. Would I have made it in the big time? Would I have been a primetime player in a big organization? All of these questions would run through my head. And I wouldn't know the answers to them until five years later. The question now.. Who would have bettered the other? Cody Williams or Nomad. The answer? I am SECOND TO NONE! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I remember it all too well. Wherever I am... Wherever I go... It follows me. Like a creature in the night, it lurks in the shadows. I can run but I can't hide. No matter what I do, I cannot escape its grasp. In the end it always ends up finding me. It haunts me... It devours me... It paralyzes me. Past, present and future. I must overcome the odds that are stacked against me, if I want to move on with my life. But for that to happen, I must meet my maker. The Nomad. |
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12:26 AM Jul 11