6
7
8
...goes the count as we fade into the 4Q gym. You hear the hustle and bustle of training sessions going on in the main center, but we are in the back rooms of the gym...a lone training area...his own personal space, so to speak.
9
10
11
12
13
more pullups...more sweat...getting the arms stronger....getting ready for yet another battle, another PPV...yet another match with Buff Bridges.
14
15
...and Ronnie drops down. He grabs the towel from the nearby chair and wipes his head and hands. He looks around, and sits down in the chair for a minute...
Here we go again, Buff. How many times are you going to say the same thing, brother? How many times are we going to go through this same song and dance with each other? How many times are we gonna butt heads in the ring for mid-card titles and seven figure checks? Is this really what you want? Are you really ready to lay it all out on the line one more time against me? Are you really ready to tap into that well one more time, dig deep one more time in the hopes of winning a championship that is only respected by myself? Let's be real here...this title doesn't mean a damn thing to anyone else. It's just here because they need something to do with us Buff. They don't believe that we cornerstones can still make weight anymore.
True enough, we aren't what we were in the days of yesteryear.
Four years ago, you were the right hand man of Senester, at the height of your glory, and the World Champion, while I was a newcomer running through the roster collecting a title and respect in the process.
Three years ago, you were champion again, but no longer Sen's right hand, as I was taking that title from you, starting my own reign in the process.
Two years ago, you were on the downswing, while I was winning ringmaster, yet I too, had my own fall from grace.
Last year, I left you dangling from a hangman's noose, yet neither one of us were anything special. Just thrown together because the powers that be thought they could spark a rating and a few PPV buys by throwing us together. We both were left by the wayside, thought to be "past it" in the ring.
This year, we've both had our shots at this title. You had yours and lost. I had mine and won, and then defended it. Yet here we are fighting for this title, while the man who lost it is in the main event...moved past the both of us facing a champion who wasn't worthy of the belt when he won it, nor has he been in holding it. Looks like the golden ticket you once had Buff....isn't yours anymore.
Let's be honest...we could rehash past history...you could say that that past matches you lost were just flukes or whatever you could use to justify it, and I could say that the wins were just that, and I'm better than you, but that doesn't matter to anyone but us. No one else cares. This is our last dance, Buff. You had better make it memorable, because if you don't, you'll be just like that whisper in the wind...quickly forgotten and otherwise ignored. That's what you are already...and I'm not going to let you drag me there with you.
Ronnie tosses the towel on the chair and goes over to the leg press machine. He loads up 275 pounds on the bar, and sits down on the machine. He moves into position, and starts pressing out his set as we fade out...
1
2
3
4
5
....end feed
Message Thread
« Back to index