Eisen-verse Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Misc%20Logos/EVG.jpg For one to face the end, he must embrace the beginning. All that happened between these two points is nothing more than irrelevant noise; flashes of light and sound, developing what you come to define as ‘Me’. Your legacy will cement itself within the hallowed walls of ‘home’; a place, tangible or not, that best personifies your essence when it’s all said and done. <hr color="black">/// The framework for a 'Revival' ///<hr color="black"> Life has a funny way of regurgitating your past; continuously shaping your future with small fragments you’ve collected, willingly and unwillingly, along the way. For John Greed, a former aspiring pro wrestler, this fact is unquestionably accurate. The victim of a tortured rise to infamy, this former addict has embarked upon the ‘road less traveled’ since his hazed ‘glory days’ within Nero’s Kingdom (RIPW). Battling incessant pain in his reconstructed knee, and warring with an even more chaotic scenario that is his inner self-defeating monologue, John has subconsciously manifested his internal frustration in which to wage an underground revolution; one that has been inspired heavily by his own feverishly defiant nature. From this, one could inherently conjure up a ‘chicken or egg’ scenario, was John always this way or is this merely a byproduct of his physical demise; however, regardless of the outcome one thing is for sure: The independent wrestling circuit has seemingly benefited from his violent ‘downward spiral’. We now embark upon the end of this Saga; one that could either make or break his public persona going forward. If John is to leave an everlasting legacy, not just as an un-hirable deviant, he must go back to where it all began. While no one, John included, ever thought this opportunity would rear itself available, the cards have fallen in-line in which to bring the impossible to the forefront… The past now becomes his future as the embattled soul that is John Greed regains control of the very playground he once called ‘his diabolical muse’. The stage is set, the transition comes into focus, and the wrestling world stands in bewildered anticipation; what will be the outcome this time around? A year removed from his previous tenure? This is the story of how Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling, once again, became John Greed’s Kingdom; this time… for good. http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/PSW%20Logo/PSW2.jpg © PSW 2011 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SeanMcFly Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 HUZZAH! You know I'll be reading broheim! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
smurphy1014 Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 WOOOOO!!! Looking forward to this one! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 3, 2010 Author Share Posted October 3, 2010 [An Explanation] I’m sure this comes as a shock to some; as I was planning on running with Impact! New York just a matter of a day ago. With that in mind, as I really sat down and started to think about how I wanted to end this ‘Greed Saga’, there seemed to be no better choice than having Greed ‘come home’. This time around, things are quite different though as John (as you will see) is not just a ‘headbooker’. As expected with most of my projects, there is a lengthy backstory on it’s way; spelling out how this all came to be & John’s overall perception of things as they unfold. Overall, I will be taking facets of my writing style for previous projects & using them as a hodgepodge in this newest PSW venture. All in all, I want to thank everyone for your continued support. I hope, in the end, this project will stand-out as another ‘great work of GDS literature’. Also, for those who are wondering, this will not just be a re-hashing of the old PSW-ways. Sure, some of the faces will be the same (as they are John’s ‘Inner circle’), and most of the former events will be making their return, but in the end… This is a more well-rounded John Greed. He’s gone through two other companies, and a whole slew of life experiences in that time frame, so think of it as a battle-tested, road-challenged, man coming back to his ‘stomping ground’ in which to save it from extinction. In the end, here are a few early questions answered: The diary is set in… 2011; shortly after John Greed’s last 4C Event – “New Year’s Eve Clash”. What database are you using… It’s a fusion of the default database revamped and what I can recall from the Greed-Verse (started as the default database for TEW 2008 and transformed into today). With that said, Deadly Overloaded Action (John’s former employer) is still alive and kicking; Jensen Tarver still at the helm & Eric Tyler is now the ‘headbooker’. As I said, I’ve used the default database as a base-line & have added in the aspects that make the Greed-Verse what it is. What changes have been added to this fusion database… As I said above, the DOA is still alive and kicking. On top of that, I’ve added ‘Christopher Hart’ (Hyde) to the database to simulate his creation during the first diary (a computer created guy with loads of talent); he now works for NYCW & is 24 (was 21 when he debuted). Outside of that, there will be new champions in PSW versus what is seen in the default database for January 2010. Given that it’s a year removed, there are new holders for each belt; making it more realistic. Also, one member of the SWF default roster will be part of the initial PSW roster; as if he never left following John’s departure. Also, I’ve added a slew of relationships for John (which will be addressed at a later time) in which to simulate all that’s gone on in John’s life since ‘The Injury’. While it may be more for me, It’s a good way to have a blue-print of where we’ve come to now. The Roster… From a default perspective, is made up of pretty much everyone you’ll see straight away. That means, in a sense, that The Wolverine and Punnisher came back to PSW in the last years time. Also, as said above, there is a SWF worker (in the default database at least he is in the SWF) that is part of the PSW roster; as if he never left after John moved on. How will this diary ‘flesh out’… I plan on using a more ‘writer-friendly’ approach to this one; while still keeping in-line with how the last PSW diary unfolded. What I mean by this is that I’ll continue to have background segments fused in with PSW-created information (via their website) and ‘insider info’ (via TotalExtremeWrestling.com). This is exactly how the last PSW diary was ‘fleshed out’ & I don’t see any major reason to change that. Call me nostalgic I guess. Ha. Show cards will be less fleshed out as they were in DOA, 4C, and Elite; as it will make it easier for me to get them up sooner (and less work overall). With that said; however, I will still tackle this project much like those that have come before it: with as much depth as my personal life will allow. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest codey Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 Does this mean Elite is done for? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
20LEgend Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 My jaw literally dropped, I thought i'd scrolled down to the '08 diary section, this is going to be cool! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
sebsplex Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 I'm pleased to see the Greed saga continue, but hopefully you don't shelve ELITE entirely as that diary was really starting to find it's feet. That being said, I can understand how it's difficult to keep a project going if it's lacking that connection you had with your previous PSW work. Either way, I'll be reading. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TDubRaiders Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 You know I always had a soft spot for you coming back to PSW but never thought you would. In my opinion it was the best work you've ever done. I read every single show I would come home just to read whatever you posted. Although I really enjoyed your last PSW diary I really want to see you have PSW rise up the wrestling ladder and start to compete with the bigger companies. It will be tough but I know you got it in you. I'm crazy excited about you coming back and doing a PSW diary once again. It def is the right choice for the Final Chapter of Greed. I'll be reading man, can't wait. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Hashasheen Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 Yes. Yes. YES. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dragonmack Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 Welcome back( again! ) May your homecoming be as successful as mine has been so far. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
paulskln Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 my favourite diary writer Eisen-Verse.i will be reading this for sure. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
BHK1978 Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 Well I told you I would be reading via PM but I might as well say it here. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 3, 2010 Author Share Posted October 3, 2010 <div style="text-align:right;"><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><strong>Early January 2011; days after 4C's “New Year’s Eve Clash”</strong></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em>… The Call – Part I …</em></div></div></div><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="text-align:center;"><span>http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Misc%20Logos/Coffeehouse.jpg</span></div><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em>I heavily sink into the old wooden chair beneath me; projecting a loud succession of settling cracks into the dimly lit coffeehouse I’ve come to call my ‘base of operations’. The wait staff, a collection of pseudo-hipsters ranging in age, stare annoyingly in my direction; talking under their breathe as they question ‘how long’ I will occupy the public computer this time around. Sadly, in a matter of a few months, I’ve become ‘that guy’… The one that parents often shield their children from as they walk out of the establishment. Typically, one with my kind of disheveled look often brings on a level of uncomfortable stares; reeking of absolute judgment. With that said, I’ve grown accustomed to their questioning gaze; actually finding a sense of comfort within the notion that I don’t belong. In the end, it is this ‘outsider mentality’ has often drives me deeper inward; strengthening my creative-process as no one would dare interrupt a homeless ‘mad-man’. </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> “Sir, If you’re going to look at porn then I’m going to have to ask you to leave; this is a family-environment and we can’t mucky that up with your kind. Do you understand?”</div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em>An elder hipster leans over the coffeebar; placing his entire weight on his hands as he approaches me in an overtly authoritative manner. There was no benefit of the doubt within his tone, or within his gaze for that matter, as he truly believed I was nothing more than a sex-fiend grossly stroking my addiction within the walls of a quaint little coffeehouse. </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> My body jolts in a shocking manner, not expecting such a statement, as I quickly attempt to return the fact that I am not what he thinks I am. However, before I can do so, my phone does it’s best impression of a raging machine; vibrating heavily within my tattered jean pocket in which to signify an incoming call. With a look of confusion upon his face, slowly developing the narrative that such vibration is ‘obviously’ from a sex-toy of some kind, the elder hipster leaps triumphantly into action; neglecting the fact that his very patrons are now watching him explode with unquestioned anger.</em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> “SIR! I never want to see you in this coffeeshop again, do you understand me? Take whatever that is in your pants and get the HELL out of here!!”</div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em>A small collection of town-folk stare upon me as if I were a masked murderer; finally unveiled for the very first time. Their stares tell the truth behind their thought process: this man is an absolute ‘monster’. With theoretical torches, and pitchforks, within their grasp, I slowly stagger out of the coffeeshop for the last time; an establishment that I had adopted as ‘my own’ as I often conducted 4C business within these very walls. As an ostracized ‘fiend’, in their eyes, I finally burst through the sunken doorway; leaving the chaos behind me as the sound of collective disgust trails in my wake. </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> With the frigid midnight air cutting at my body like a million piercing blades, I stagger around side of the coffeeshop; utilizing it’s deep brick walls as a deterrent from the raging winds ahead. My breathe, my thought process, my entire being, is currently wrapped in the instant shock that is sub-zero temperatures during the winter-months in Canada. </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> Just then, as I continue to battle the elements much like a wounded Trojan soldier would, I’m reminded of the ‘final straw’ that eventually aided in my coffeehouse demise…</em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> My phone was still vibrating like an incessant hellfire preacher; relaying a message that appears to be impossible to neglect. I quickly dig into my pocket, losing all sensitivity in my freed hand as the cold continues to rip straight down to the bone, as I finally secure control of the vibrating messenger. With a swift pull, using all the energy I have left in my broken frame, I free my cellphone from the dungeon that is my cluttered jean pocket; lifting it to my face in which survey who could possibly be calling.</em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> To my shock, I recognized the cellphone number; not because it was a 4C competitor but rather… A figure of my past. A past that I thought was certainly ‘dead and gone’…</em></div></div><p> </p><p> </p><p> <hr color="black"><strong>NEXT: THE CALL - PART II</strong></p> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
angeldelayette Posted October 3, 2010 Share Posted October 3, 2010 A definite surprise but a definite great surprise here, E-V! Looking forward to seeing your renewed vision of PSW right here on TEW 2010. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 4, 2010 Author Share Posted October 4, 2010 <p></p><div style="text-align:right;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><strong>Early January 2011; days after 4C’s “New Year’s Eve Clash”</strong></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>… The Call – Part II …</em></span></div></div></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="text-align:center;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><span>http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Misc%20Logos/Alley.jpg</span></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>With the speaker lodged firmly against my rosy red ear, already a victim of the frigid midnight air, there stood a familiar voice peering through the other end. His tone was wavering, heavily inspired by the iron grip of mind-numbing Anxiety, as an uncharacteristic sense of desperation plagues his entire being. Without standing before him, I could sense the severe lack of sleep raging within his depleted frame. He had encountered the hellacious struggle that is headbooking; a role that certainly forces the mind into an overwhelmed state of, continuous, self-questioning, nervosa.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “John… I don’t know what to do…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="text-align:center;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><span>http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Misc%20Logos/DocMessing.jpg</span></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>There stood a broken man on the other side of the phone; one that actually made me feel self-adjusted in comparison. It had been a little over a year since Doc [Messing] had accepted the role of headbooker for PSW; stepping into my former position when Mitch [Naess] finally ‘cut his losses’ and sold his, formerly described, ‘baby’ to a local entertainment businessman; Johnathan Walter. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> To be honest, ever since the ‘rug was pulled out underneath me’ in Pittsburgh, I had turned my attention far away from the PSW-grind. I was jaded, and truthfully still was, that I could be simply replaced at the drop of a hat; cast aside following 18 months of dedicated service. I had waged a strenuous relationship with Mitch, developed a wide-range of new characters, and practically put my own health on the line, all in the name of Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling; only to have my name dragged through the mud upon my dismissal. Needless to say, I wasn’t entirely ‘excited’ to hear from the man who replaced me. Petty? Sure. However, self-analysis wasn’t my main focus right now. Instead, I was locked in a, seemingly, never-ending battle with the sub-zero hell that is Canadian Winter; all the while, coming to grips with what just happened seconds before within the coffeeshop that now rests as my shield from the swirling wind. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “There going to shut it down if John [Walter] doesn’t find a buyer… He calls us a ‘toxic asset’; saying that PSW is the reason why ‘Steel City Underground Broadcasting’ is teetering on bankruptcy. I don’t know if that’s really true but he’s entirely backed out of the day-to-day operations. I can’t even get him to answer a simple phone call… How am I supposed to keep this place alive if the owner doesn’t even want to be affiliated with his own product anymore? I don’t know what to do… I just… This place can’t die…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>The desperation in his voice appears to be at an all-time high as it’s obvious that his eyes are, most likely, welling with tears as we speak. With that said, knowing that PSW was practically on it’s death bed tugged upon something inside of me; churning my stomach in conflicting directions… creating what some would classify as… butterflies.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “What? What are you talking about, Doc? Walter wants out of PSW?”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>A brief silence rests between the two of us; meanwhile, a mother, and her 10 year old child, walk past me in a speedy fashion; judging me for what had just happened prior within the coffeehouse with a judging glare. With the phone still pressed to my ear, trying to process 2-things at once, I tilt my head slightly to the right; giving said mother a “what are you looking at?” kind of gesture. As expected, her response was rather annoyed in a ‘how dare you’ sort of way.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “Wait… You haven’t heard?”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “Haven’t heard what?”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “It’s been all over the internet wrestling sites; I thought you would have known by now… Given that it’s been a few months since John [Walter] has placed us on the market…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>To be honest, I’ve come to realize that wrestling websites were nothing more than ‘snuff’ for those outsiders addicted to our craft. Realistically, there is little truth behind anything they post. Instead, they feed upon others incessant need for ‘exclusive information’ much like a grungy drug-dealer uses heroin to solidify ‘return consumers’. What does a 40 something, overweight, mother-living, social misfit have on his resume that allows him to drag my work through the garbage? So, with this in mind, I had long given up reading any sort of review, or supposed ‘breaking story’, via internet wrestling sites as they were all just diluting the ‘sport’ anyways. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “I don’t really pay attention to that stuff, Doc. I would advise you to do the same… Just turns us bookers into neurotic basket-cases; looking for approval from those who don’t actually deserve such power…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>I could tell that wasn’t what he was looking for; instead, moving forward with his original story in mind.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “John is selling PSW; at least he’s tried too for the last few months to no avail. I tried to make the purchase but the bank won’t loan me enough money in which to keep everything afloat. Hell, I even called Mitch [Naess] to see if he had any interest in coming back & he simply laughed at me; told me that ‘PSW was dead to him’. I guess I just don’t know what to do… These guys… This place… I don’t want to see PSW die…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>It doesn’t surprise me that Mitch wouldn’t want anything to do with his former creation. When he sold the company, he was no longer the ball-bustin’ Naess that we had all come to despise. There was no ‘hard-nosed’ mentality to his stride anymore. Instead, he had become a hazed shell of his former self; unkept and obviously depressed in his own right. To this day, I still feel awful for igniting such a downward spiral in him; however, in the end, I still maintain the notion that he had it coming. After months of verbal abuse, to myself and the rest of the roster, it was only a matter of time before he was ‘put in his place’ by someone. In the end, the ‘bully’ always gets his.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> A brief silence carries once again as I look out upon my breathe; billowing into the sky in a smoke-like manner.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “I know I’m probably dumb for asking, and you’ll probably end up doing the same thing that Mitch did, but I have to ask… I mean… This place thrived off of your spirit. You WERE Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling.”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “Were…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>I respond rather coldly; subconsciously showing the fact that I was still quite jaded through it all.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “I know I’m probably the last person you really want to talk to… but… PSW needs you, John. These men need you.”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>I begin to laugh to myself, chuckling amidst the irony that came with his statement, as I lean heavily upon the brickwall behind my dismissive gaze. I wanted to simply hang up the phone, say ‘well, I guess this is what you all get’ but, for some reason, I couldn’t push my removal from the scenario. Instead, I continue to listen to Doc’s plea; my entire being defiant to his message… yet, deep down, feeling the pull that I didn’t feel was still there.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> Either way, I quickly barge into his statement; growing increasingly frustrated with having to face this reality again.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “Doc, I’m sorry… you’re barking up the wrong tree… I wish I could help but I just don’t know if I truthfully want to. PSW was a ‘pipe-dream’ come true; it was where this all started. So, for that, I will forever be grateful but I just don’t see myself coming back. Why turn around and run to the past? What would I gain from it all? Tell the guys ‘I’m sorry’ but I have a new job, here in Ontario. This is where I’m going to stay… Goodbye.”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>I hang up the phone, looking down upon the glowing screen for a few more seconds in a trance-like scenario, as the bone-chilling winds continue to ravage my body. In that very moment, as if some external force took over my consciousness, images from my tenure with PSW quickly accelerate into focus. For a second, a sense of warmth begins to overtake my very soul; shielding me from the cold with a given focus. However, seconds later, my mind violently regains control of my thought process; theoretically slamming a steel door over anything pertaining to PSW. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> As I slowly stagger away from my haven from the cold, the quaint coffeeshop I once called my make-shift ‘office’, my dismissing mindset continues to push to the forefront. In turn, a short message rolls off of my lips in a subconscious manner; one that attempts to distance myself from the emotional truth that is my suppressed love for my former ‘home’.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “He wants me to buy PSW? </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>[i laugh to myself; doing my best to create a sense of annoyance]</em></span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> Who does he think I am? After all that happened… Why would I ever go back?”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>With that, I disappear into the midnight air; speeding off toward an undisclosed location within the warehouse district I had come to call my new ‘home’. Emotionally restless as I was, for the first time in awhile, forced to face the disheartening reality that was losing my former ‘muse’ in Pittsburgh.</em></span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> <hr color="black"><strong>NEXT: 'A DREAM CHANGES EVERYTHING'...</strong></p> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 4, 2010 Author Share Posted October 4, 2010 <div style="text-align:right;"><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><strong>Later that night</strong></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em>… The underlying Truth resurfaces strong …</em></div></div></div><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="text-align:center;"><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><span>http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Misc%20Logos/Sleep.jpg</span></div><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> “Plus, even if I wanted too, where would the money come from? </div></div><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em>[i laugh heartily to myself; much like a delirious psychopath entrenched in my own world]</em></div></div><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> In case you haven’t noticed, I live in a freaking car!!”</div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em>I jolt my right let outward; slamming the base of my foot square into the cracking dashboard before me in an act of underlying frustration. For hours now, I have been in a constant battle with my own psyche; waging a feverish war with the underlying truth that resides deep within my soul. During this time period, I am often heard descending into explicit-laced rants; obviously emotionally unstable following the resurgence of my former ‘muse’. More or less, while I’ve never been one to project any sense of sanity, I now find myself degenerating under my own emotional baggage; in desperate need of a quick-fix in which to subdue the pain within.</em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> My thoughts quickly drift toward my previous vices, alcohol, prescription medication; anything to take my mind off of the psychological tornado before me. The unsettling ‘itch’, the uneasy sweat, all bubble to the surface; dragging me deeper into my own version of a personal constructed ‘hell’. To any dime-store psychologist, this rage-filled downward spiral would signify a potential breakthrough; the moment in time where I finally have allowed my deepest dwelling pain to reemerge. However, to the actual sufferer, I feel more like a schizophrenic on the verge of a multi-level breakdown. </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> In time, a matter of 30 minutes or so, my violent outburst has inspired my body into complete exhaustion. Still muttering to myself like a crazed mental patient, I slowly sink deeper into the driver’s side chair of my rusted ‘94 Green Sundance. My overt aggression, the mental anguish I currently reside within, slowly starts to fade off into the theoretical distance; leaving me slipping deeper into a restful state. From there, my mind would eventually drift off into the unknown that is my subconscious; traveling deeper into my thoughts as my focused-mind is no longer able to dictate any sense of order. </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> </em></div></div><p><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"></span></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><em> I was asleep; however, not entirely at rest…</em></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><blockquote data-ipsquote="" class="ipsQuote" data-ipsquote-contentapp="forums" data-ipsquote-contenttype="forums" data-ipsquote-contentid="29217" data-ipsquote-contentclass="forums_Topic"><div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';">A hazed dream-state would follow; displaying images of my time in Pittsburgh much like a beloved ‘hollywood’ movie. Marat’s championship victory, Bryan Holmes’s suspenseful debut, and Harry Allen’s rise to underground fame, all shown before my eyelids as if they were cast there by a projector. Here I was, once again, in the middle of my own personal oasis; the company that had come to define me both personally & professionally. There was no moment of anger, no resentment eating away at my soul; instead, I was able to witness ‘my creation’ from a pure-perspective. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';"> The sound, the smell, the beautiful view, of the Ministry quickly pulls me deeper; it’s dreary existence bringing forth a sense of comfort where most would feel otherwise. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';"> The roar, the overwhelming explosion, that is the PSW fanbase excites the very core within me; guiding me closer to the inevitable truth within. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';"> The faces, the determination, the unquestioned loyalty, of those who compete with pride under the PSW banner cement my resurging perception; annihilating the underlying wall that keeps my true emotions at bay.</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Copperplate Gothic Light';"> In what feels like an instance, which really spans 8 hours of life-defining slumber, everything has come into focus. I fell asleep jaded; I awake heartfelt.</span></div></div></div></blockquote><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>7:48 AM</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> I awake groggy; yet fulfilled. The overwhelming anger I once felt was now nothing more than a distant memory. The jaded-mentality I once held for anything pertaining to my former ‘muse’ had shockingly tempered greatly. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> As I slowly rub the crust from my eyes, uncharacteristically accepting the challenge of a ‘new day’, my mind instantly deters toward the process of brainstorming; utilizing my fiery passion in which to construct a line of reasoning in favor of making such a ‘leap’. It all made sense for once; everything appeared to be lining-up in the right direction. For years, I have attempted to outrun the only thing I have truly loved in this life; all because I was forcibly ripped from it’s grace. Now, given the opportunity to return to said oasis, I would be a fool to deny the truth any longer:</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling has been, and will forever be, the love of my life. Much like a drawn-out, overplayed, teen-inspired movie, I must act as the heroic ‘prince charming’; standing on high as I proclaim such a reality… Unafraid… Unrivaled. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> The time had come…</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> All that was left was a phone call…</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> One that would make this dream… a reality…</em></span></div></div><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> <hr color="black"><strong>NEXT: THE PURCHASE [WITH HELP FROM A SILENT INVESTOR]…</strong></p> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 5, 2010 Author Share Posted October 5, 2010 <p></p><div style="text-align:right;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><strong>Late January 2011</strong></span></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>... The changing of the guard ...</em></span></span></div></div></div><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="text-align:center;"><span>http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Misc%20Logos/JohnGreed_alt8.jpg</span><span>http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Misc%20Logos/JohnathanWalter.jpg</span><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><span style="font-size:8px;"><em>One man's 'trash' is another man's treasure</em></span></span></div></div></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “Didn’t think I’d see you again…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>His tone reeks of a condescending grit, one that often comes with those who misjudge their overall worth, as he sinks deeper into his blackened executive chair; one he, arrogantly, refers to as ‘the thrown’. A little over a year ‘on the job’ and he’s already pining for it’s end; a truth that he certainly won’t confess as being a symbol for weakness. In reality, it’s exactly that, his inherent need in which to seem ‘strong’ in all situations, that has stood as his final downfall; as it pertains to facilitating PSW. If you aren’t open to being ‘knocked on your ass’ then you certainly won’t succeed in a product centered around pure anarchy. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> From the start, he was doomed to fizzle. Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling was an attractive buy toward the end of 2009, I’ll give him that; but, he had little knowledge about the industry in general. Realistically, half-listening to Doc spew-forth, in his typical accelerated manner, current wrestling scenarios wasn’t really a proper learning curve for a hell-bent businessman. Overall, while it probably seemed like the a strong addition to his budding portfolio at the time, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before he slowly lost interest in what he now dismissively describes as a ‘toxic asset’.</em></span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “To be honest, I can’t argue with you there. I honestly thought… </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>[A self-reflective laugh follows; leaving a smirk upon my face as I can’t believe the reality I find myself in at this very moment]</em></span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> this ‘world’ was something of the past; a former ‘love’ ripped from my hands all too early. To be here, in this office, within the city limits of Pittsburgh again… It’s all so very surreal.”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>Mr. Walter stares back in my direction in a cold fashion; obviously unhappy that I ‘dare’ question his decision (removing me as the headbooker) from some 12 months ago.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “Well, let’s be on with it…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>His massive frame shifts within his seat; adjusting in which to open a large, leather-bound, folder resting heavily upon his desktop. With a grand stroke of his predetermined ballpoint pen, Mr. Walter scribbles his name in an overtly theatrical fashion; making light of the moment with a back-handed comment directed square at everyone involved with his, now, former asset. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “I came into Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling with nothing but high hopes for it’s earning capacity; for it’s ability to further our companies brand. However, a year later, I leave with the knowledge that no one… and I mean no one… can turn a profit with this piece of sh*t…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>With that, Mr. Walter looks up in my direction, grinning arrogantly from ear-to-ear, as you can see the proverbial ‘monkey’ removed from his back. In his eyes, he was now ‘free’; free from the whirlwind that is PSW. He had finally found his ‘sucker’, in his words, and now said ‘toxic asset’ was thrust upon another poor soul. Was my decision ill-advised? If you ask either John or Mitch, I’m sure they would say so. In the end, I wasn’t interested in any sort of review. I bought PSW because I couldn’t dare see it crumble under it’s own weight; Especially if such a demise was cultivated by a raging A$$hole. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “I gotta ask…”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>He laughs; interjecting before I could even think to respond to his previous, back-handed, statement.</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “How does a washed-up junkie like you come up with enough money to make such a purchase? Did ya’ sell some drugs? No wait, rob a liquor store?”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>He laughs in a devilish manner; finishing his signature as he arrogantly slides the folder in my direction. I can feel my hands tightly closing subconsciously, creating a puncher’s fist, as I envision delivering a sense of harm in his direction. At this point, all I want to do is reach across his dime-store desk, clench his tie in a violent manner, and land my fist square across his jaw. In reality, though, such an emotionally-laced scenario would only prove detrimental to my freedom; certainly landing me in jail for such a destructive altercation. So, with that in mind, I do the only thing that I really care to do in this scenario; sign my name upon the dotted line as fast as possible. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> After my signature was permanently inscribed, declaring it official that PSW was now in my ‘sole’ possession, I slowly rise from my seat, looking Mr. Walter square in his beady eyes, relaying one final statement within his mastered language… Full-on A$$hole. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> “Allow me to be the first representative from PSW to say… F*ck you, Mr. Walter.”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>With that, holding a defiant smirk upon my face, I slowly exit the scenario at hand; leaving behind a furious Mr. Walter in the process. After years of being mistreated, pushed around & left for dead, Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling was FINALLY on the verge of finding a sense of normalcy. </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> It’s bound to be a hellacious ride but one I freely accept…</em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> </em></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em> From this moment forward, Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling was in-line for an ‘all-hands-on-deck’ approach. There will be no stone unturned, no scenario too lofty. If we’re going down… We’re going down in a blaze of f*cking glory…</em></span></div></div><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> <hr color="black"><strong>NEXT: THE MINISTRY IS 'RE-BORN'...</strong></p> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pennyone Posted October 5, 2010 Share Posted October 5, 2010 wooooooooooooow this my friend has so many levels of greatness that is hard to describe Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 5, 2010 Author Share Posted October 5, 2010 <p></p><blockquote data-ipsquote="" class="ipsQuote" data-ipsquote-contentapp="forums" data-ipsquote-contenttype="forums" data-ipsquote-contentid="29217" data-ipsquote-contentclass="forums_Topic"><div style="text-align:center;"><div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div></div><span>http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Wrestlers/AshCampbell_alt1.jpg</span></div><div></div><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';">“We haven’t staged a show in ‘The Ministry’ for almost a year now; February I think. John [Walter] thought it was a dump; said it gave the wrong impression for the company as a whole. I’m not sure if it’s been used for much since we left? I thought I heard that the city was looking to shut it down, as it’s practically falling apart, but I’m not entirely sure.”</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="text-align:right;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';">- Ash Campbell aka “Alastor”, </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>a PSW Original</em></span></div></div></div><p></p><p></p></blockquote><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';">I was floored; practically heart-broken at the sound of such truth.</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> To remove Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling from the ‘Ministry’ is like ripping one’s beating heart straight from their chest. It’s between those very walls that men have given their lives for this destructive craft; shortening their time on his earth in which to bow-down before the ‘Wrestling GOD’s’ above. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="text-align:center;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><strong><em>I’ve seen broken bodies…</em></strong></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><strong><em> blood soaked canvases…</em></strong></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><strong><em> wavering consciousness…</em></strong></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><strong><em> and Trauma unlike anyone’s ever seen…</em></strong></span></div></div></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> … All within those very walls. To deny these men, these modern-day gladiators, the right to compete in such ‘halloed ground’ is simply devilish. While I wouldn’t bet against such an idiotic decision as this, when facilitated by one, Johnathan Walter, I still couldn’t wrap my head around this very notion. Truthfully, the PSW that’s staggered along for the last year is NOT the company we had all come to understand. This version, at least for the past calendar year [2010], was nothing more than an aimless zombie; feeding upon those twisted enough in which to call PSW their personal vice for pro wrestling action. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> Undoubtedly, my first decision as the newfound PSW owner was to restore our presence within the faded walls of our home… ‘The Ministry’. While some may have done all they could to destroy our spirit, moving our operations across town in an act of re-branding, I will stand for this no more. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> This former place of worship will once again bring in your poor, your injured, your wicked…</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> Your broken, your tired, your untrustworthy…</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> Your arrogant, your violent, your sadistic…</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> Your worthy, your unworthy, and your indifferent…</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> All to worship once again; at the altar of Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> <hr color="black"><hr color="black"></div></div><div style="text-align:center;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><strong><span style="font-family:'Arial Black';"><span style="font-size:14px;">… The Re-Birth of ‘The Ministry’ …</span></span></strong></div></div></div><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><hr color="black"><hr color="black"></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="text-align:right;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><strong>Early February 2011</strong></span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><em>… Life; restored …</em></span></div></div></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> The crackling of week-old garbage underneath my wheel stands as a blowing horn; proclaiming my return to these haloed grounds. It has been over a year since I’ve last seen this beautiful monument, this weathered abode, I once called ‘home’. To the untrained eye, ‘The Ministry’ appears to be, yet, another crumbling building, one in need of demolition; but to those who truly know it’s beauty… It stands like a glorious Egyptian temple; telling of stories that rival the best fables of our history. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> As I slowly depart my vehicle, soaking in the signature smell of cat urine that we playfully referred to as ‘the Ministry musk’, an intense wave of emotion rages through my entire being. When I was forced from my post, violently ripped from the ‘devils haven’, I found this place to be the hardest to turn away from. While in ‘Hollywood’, constructing action that was quite overloaded, I continued to have lifelike dreams; bringing me back to this very corner of the world. Regardless of where I was, regardless of what company I called ‘home’ at the time, this was my one true sanctuary. Did I ever think this day would come again, the ability to come back to ‘The Ministry’ as the, now, owner of this great company? Good God, No. Even a crack addict would call this scenario impossible. With that said; however, underneath it all, I always hoped that such a situation would arise; that I could return to this very ‘temple’ in which to reignite the revolution.</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> With every step, I can feel the theoretical walls of intense anxiety start to crumble beneath my footing. The months of intense hatred, all come to a climactic explosion; one that brings a beautiful excitement never understood previously. For the first time in my life, for the very first instance within my blueprint, I felt that I was ‘home’; that I could truly sink my teeth into the notion that I was to be nowhere but here. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> The heavily graffitied door looks entirely the same; withholding the same Pittsburgh-based gang symbols that it once held during my previous tenure. While some would credit such a scenario as ‘scary’, I see it as a heartwarming scenario that further displays the true, unique, nature that comes with PSW. Just as this door is cluttered with wear and tear, decked in endless amounts of spraypaint, we too are battered and bruised… Forging forward despite being tagged in one way or another. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> The main hall appears as if it hasn’t been used in quite some time; littered with cobwebs, rodents, and mounds of heaping garbage from everywhere in sight. Again, this building may appear condemned to those uneducated of it’s greatness; however, to us, it’s this very broken-in-nature that brings character to our entire operation. These rats are our rats. These cobwebs are our cobwebs. This trash, attracting flies from every corner, were probably left by our fans. Regardless of it’s depleted nature, we weren’t going to hold another event anywhere BUT here; even if the city was threatening it’s demise. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> In the end, the beloved ‘Ministry’ was brought back from the dead, plunged from life-support, with one single flick of the master set of lights. </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> DUHN… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> </span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"> Let the choir rain down upon us; bask in it’s glory… ‘The Ministry’ has found a sense of ‘re-birth’…</span></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="text-align:center;"><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><span style="font-size:10px;">Let the blood of the iconic few continue to fill these walls with greatness unseen; continuing forth the Legend that is </span></span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-family:'Lucida Sans Unicode';"><span style="font-size:10px;"><strong><em>Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling</em></strong></span></span></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;">.</div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><span>http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/PSW%20Logo/PSW2.jpg</span><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><span style="font-size:8px;">© TEW 2011</span></div></div></div><p></p> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 5, 2010 Author Share Posted October 5, 2010 Early February 2011 ... The 'Voice of PSW' remains in-tact ... http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff394/Greed-Verse/Wrestlers/DocMessing.jpg “I know what’s coming next, John; I can’t say that I blame you. Honestly, though, if it’s any consolation, I felt like crap after John [Walter] told me about the promotion. Sure, I was excited to ‘steer the ship’, if you will, but I truly felt terrible that you were being let-go. After all you put into this place… [shakes his head in disbelief; emotionally ravaged by what he expects to be the news laid before him] I just felt like crap.” - Doc Messing, Former headbooker for PSW His mannerisms spoke of a weathered soul; defeated after months of ‘circling the drain’. Under his rule, Pittsburgh Steel Wrestling had done decently well, as it pertains to ‘simply staying afloat’; however, Walter’s limitations handcuffed any sense of real progression. While it would be quite easy to blame all of the company’s misfortunes on the former administration, Doc showed a sense of real class; something that I doubt I could have stuck too. With this in mind, sensing that his head was firmly positioned under the ‘chopping block’ in a sort of emotionally-laced payback scenario, the scraggly announcer hung his head in a crippling sense of shame. “Doc…” I attempt to make eye contact with the struggling man before me; however, Doc appears to be ‘too-far-gone’ from a reachable standpoint. With this in mind, I continue forward; relaying the counter-opposite to what he was seemingly expecting. “We’re not letting you go. Why would I allow the ‘voice of PSW’ to simply walk out the door?” A grin warmly in his direction, knowingly exactly how this sort of feeling can crumble one’s confidence, as the news slowly takes effect. Within a matter of a few seconds, now aware that he wasn’t losing his job, Doc springs into joyous action; latching his arms around me with a hug inspired by absolute bliss. While the emotional outburst was unexpected at first, I honestly wouldn’t expect anything different from him. Within most circles, Doc was considered to be a ‘great-guy’, one you could rely on both personally and professionally, and an all-around ‘diamond within the rough’ given our product. For years, working side-by-side, I was often floored by his chipper personality; obviously fueled by an inherent need to be ‘liked’; however, amazing none-the less. “Thank you… Thank you… Thank you… You will not regret this… Not in the slightest…” Breaking from our lengthy man-hug, I rest my right hand gently upon his shoulder; looking Doc square in the eye and relaying one final message of confidence. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. This company needs you, Doc; I need you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here right now. Truthfully, I wanted nothing to do with PSW following Walter’s systematic destruction of what I had put years of insanity into. To relieve you of your duties, to strip this company of it’s ‘voice’, would merely be an emotional reaction; stupid on all-fronts. I don’t blame you for what happened; it was entirely Walter’s decision. As long as I’m here, You’re job is safe with PSW.” We share a final collective smirk, bringing the unofficial meeting to a triumphant close. Regardless of our past, we were now in a ‘new era’; as it pertains to PSW. If we were going to plan a revival, revolting violently against the oppressors who dare keep our name in the ‘mud’, we were in need of Doc’s talent behind the microphone. With that taken care of, It was off to a round of phone-calls… Systematically adding old, and new, faces to the PSW roster in which to roar on the offensive; furthering our revival with the kind of talent that will ignite a cultural-shift amongst the industry we all know and love. <hr color="black">NEXT: THE PSW ROSTER – 2011 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 6, 2010 Author Share Posted October 6, 2010 <p></p><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">A general 'thank you' to you all...</span></strong></div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> Thank you to everyone for your show of support thus far; leaving behind comments, perspectives, etc. I can honestly say, This was, by-far, the </div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><strong><em>best</em></strong></div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> decision I've ever made as it pertains to GDS Diary writing. That may sound like I'm over selling the point but it's 100% true. It just feels right; having John back, having PSW back, etc.</div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> As general info, my next post will be (as you can see) an in-depth review of the PSW roster; now in February 2011. As you'll see, there are some changes to the face/heel divide, champions, a few new tag-teams, and a big-time faction atop the PSW landscape. It'll take a few days to get everything ready but I'm excited with what I've come to develop thus far. </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> From there, I may have one, or two, more backstory posts before the first card makes its debut. Since this is the end of John's saga, I really want to make sure that everything is perfect before the actual booking process goes into affect. You don't always get the chance to go back 'home' in which to end it all; so, I really want to give it justice. </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> All in all, again, thank you for reading thus far!</div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> Cheers.</div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><p></p><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"> </div></div><div style="margin-left:25px;"><div style="margin-left:25px;"><strong><em>E-V</em></strong></div></div> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pennyone Posted October 6, 2010 Share Posted October 6, 2010 there is only one way this story can end and is with a John last match ending his career as a booker and as a wrestler one last moment that can live in the hearts of all the people Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eisen-verse Posted October 6, 2010 Author Share Posted October 6, 2010 <blockquote data-ipsquote="" class="ipsQuote" data-ipsquote-username="pennyone" data-cite="pennyone" data-ipsquote-contentapp="forums" data-ipsquote-contenttype="forums" data-ipsquote-contentid="29217" data-ipsquote-contentclass="forums_Topic"><div>there is only one way this story can end and is with a John last match ending his career as a booker and as a wrestler one last moment that can live in the hearts of all the people</div></blockquote><p> </p><p> It's possible. To be honest, I have no idea how this all will end but... I don't think I want to know. For, the second you can actually realistically see how it could come is the very second you're starting to really 'check out'. ha. With that said, though, I like your thought process. </p><p> </p><p> Funny enough, you do touch on a point that will take place in PSW during the 2011 calender year. <img alt=";)" data-src="//content.invisioncic.com/g322608/emoticons/wink.png.686f06e511ee1fbf6bdc7d82f6831e53.png" src="<___base_url___>/applications/core/interface/js/spacer.png" /></p> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
critical-23 Posted October 6, 2010 Share Posted October 6, 2010 Heck of a school quarter has started but I will flunk all of my classes for an Eisen Verse diary anyday lol. I will do my best to keep up with this one until I get a mobile internet thing a ma jig. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Big Roguey Posted October 6, 2010 Share Posted October 6, 2010 WOOP. The master of PSW returns.....one question though. After reading the last show of the '08 dynasty, is "The Kingdom of GREED" going to be in full flow? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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