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[Opponent: Seamus McArthur] Semifinal: A match, competition, or examination that precedes the final one.
Look at me. I'm two matches away at proving I'm the best, at proving myself worthy of being in any ring. Two matches. Just two. But I'm not going to look ahead at that, I'm not going to predict the winner of the other semifinal. I need to keep my head straight and focus on the task at hand. If I look ahead of the target, I'll only remain here, looking back at the two matches I needed to win.
But negativity is something that isn't needed. I need to concentrate, get myself in a state of mind that will pursue my victory, pursue that ever-longing sensation of heading to the finals.
Prior to the event, I said I was going to win it all, prove to everybody where the talent is. I've worn my true colors and I've represented The "X" as a whole. For that, my job is done. However, now it's time to focus on my own career. I am going up against a strong opponent. Even that may be undermining his abilities. He's capable of winning it all. He's capable of crowning himself the winner of the Roughkut Invitational III.
I have to stop him.
I have to destroy him.
I must end his parade.
And make myself a legend.
Seamus McArthur can't beat me, I won't let it happen. I've worked harder than any other man in the tournament thus far, and I sure as hell am not going to let it go to waste. I will not let my shoulders stay down for the three, I will not let my hand tap the canvas three times. If Seamus McArthur wants to win, he'll need to step up and out-play this player.
Because I am a warrior. I am a champion.
Somebody let this man know, the victor is here.
These were the thoughts that had run through my mind as I had found myself daydreaming, my eyes unwillingly viewing a blank television screen. The tape had ended ten minutes ago and the television was black; off. I was just staring out into nothing, for ten minutes... nothing.
Throughout watching the match, I had figured McArthur had the match clinched. I knew McArthur would be that opponent who would soon face me in the semifinals, round six of seven.
Confidence was surely a factor in my belief, never once had I found myself losing to the man concsiously. Never once had I predicted the fact that I would come out a loser. I couldn't. My winning streak is already tradition. Not once have I lost, not once.
It gives you a sense of pride, a sense of passion for the sport. It brings you down to Earth, down to reality and it anchors you to the soil. My superiority is certainly not a dream, it's not just some fairy-tale. It's the responding variable to my evidence.
My eyes blinked heavily twice before I finally tuned in on my surroundings and focused, my pupils dilating quickly. I pulled myself out of my seat and stood up to a slight stretch before the door to my right opened softly, an angel flowing through.
l| Patrick |l Welcome back.
Her head looked up from her shopping bags as she took a good look at me in mid-stretch. A smile slightly tilted onto her face as she stepped out of her shoes and moved into the apartment with a questioning look placed on her face.
l| Sasha |l Did you just finish watching the match?
l| Patrick |l Sure did, not a bad match either.
l| Sasha |l And?
l| Patrick |l I'm facing McArthur. Tough opponent, eh?
l| Sasha |l Both of them were tough opponents. Either way, you were going to face a tough challenger.
I moved my way around the one-seated sofa and helped her politely with a few bags she had left at the door. Hauling two bags on either side, I proceeded to walk towards her, following her into our room.
l| Patrick |l Just think of it though, round six. That's a long road since round one, don't you think?
l| Sasha |l Of course. However Pat, it's not the end of your wrestling career, or this tournament for that fact.
l| Patrick |l I know, I know.
l| Sasha |l So what are you thinkin' right now? Good position? Bad position?
She gave a slight gesture by cocking her head from left to right as she settled the bags down near our dresser, as I had followed shortly after.
l| Patrick |l I think I'm in a tough spot. Though I've faced guys like Seamus McArthur before. They certainly aren't "pushovers", but I can still pull through. If I stick to strategy, use my head in the match, I should really capitalize on his mistakes. Hopefully he'll open himself up for some good counters.
l| Sasha |l You can't expect that out of every opponent, you know.
l| Patrick |l Yeah I know, but I'm just saying. It's a key part of my tactical game and the more mistakes the merrier.
She moved in close to me, wrapping her arms around me with the gentle weight of her body pressing up against mine. My arms doubled over hers as my hands lovingly caressed her hips, giving a methodical massage to her lower half.
l| Sasha |l Do you think you'll let me watch from ringside this time?
l| Patrick |l You're putting me in a tough position, baby. You know how I feel about this. As much as I'd love you to be there in my corner, cheering me on, getting the fans pumped up. It's just- I don't want to find myself distracted. And what if you got hurt?
l| Sasha |l I know. I guess it's just something I want to try. It's a tournament, Pat. Tournaments can be great for experiments.
l| Patrick |l I'm sorry...
I gave her a soft, almost routine kiss on the lips before staring at her. The luscious color in her eyes almost swept everything away.
l| Sasha |l It's alright. I know you take this thing seriously. Well, in a way I sort of have to agree with you. This could be the epitome of your career. And besides, it's the semifinals, this is no joke to you.
l| Patrick |l I love you so much right now. You're always there for me. Always. I have to pay you back somehow...
l| Sasha |l You don't have to, Pat. If you're happy, I'm happy. Okay?
I gave her another soft kiss before we had seperated. She watched, a smile on her face as she stood cross-armed, following me into the main room. Turning around, I fiddled my hand inside my pocket in search of keys.
l| Sasha |l Where you going?
l| Patrick |l The Roughkut Invitational needed a promo from me for advertisement.
l| Sasha |l For your match?
l| Patrick |l And for the entire event. It's kind of cool. I haven't done one of these things in a few months.
l| Sasha |l You're not going to be late are you?
I took a quick glance at the clock that was perched upon the nightstand. Having taken a few seconds, I stood there dumbfounded, adding up the time it would take me to drive over and approximate the timing.
l| Patrick |l Nah, I'll be there fifteen minutes before they need me.
l| Sasha |l Alright. When you gonna' be back?
l| Patrick |l Hour- hour and a half.
With my free hand, I twisted the knob and pulled back on the door, exposing myself to an open hallway. Stepping out, I closed the door softly behind me. With my left, I pulled my hand out of my pocket; empty handed. I had forgotten my keys on the kitchen table.
I twisted the knob for the second time, this time pushing the door back into the room and stepping in. There I stood, silent. She was just sitting there, her head in her hands. It had made me realise a few things. She really wanted to be there to support me. Just to be there, yelling at me to never give up, to keep my mind straight. She had lied to me when she said she was okay with staying backstage and watching the show. She had lied to keep me happy.
And for that, I loved her.
l| Patrick |l 'Forgot my keys...
Her head turned, almost flabbergasted that she hadn't heard me sneaking back in. I proceeded to move across the room and into the kitchen. Grabbing the keys off the table, I glanced back at her and gave her a half smile.
And then left.
I had moved roughly around a twenty minutes' drive to central Phoenix and had spent around five minutes looking for the correct address. The place I was working at was a white warehouse with a small parking lot. I had parked my car closest to the front entrance and headed inside, ten minutes early.
From there, I was greeted by a few people managing the event and soon became notified of the producer, two of the four camera men and one make-up stylist. It was from there on that things really got put into gear, having been sent from station to station in order to perfect my image for the camera. I was then placed in a seat, a small amount of light placed on me and a look of bore across my face.
There I sat, five minutes in silence.
l| Producer |l So Pat, you think you're ready to go?
The sound of the man's voice had broken my chain of concentration.
l| Patrick |l I'm ready as I'll ever be.
l| Producer |l Great, we're going to start shooting right away.
l| Patrick |l So what are you expecting out of me? Do you want some sort of a voice over? Narration? What...?
I had found myself, my hands pretty much acting out my words as I spoke. He stood there, half his body facing towards me. With one eyebrow cocked, he turned towards me with a stylish smile.
l| Producer |l Try and feed me a little of everything. Sound good?
l| Patrick |l Yeah, I think I have something that will fit right into that.
l| Producer |l You have lines here?
l| Patrick |l Nah, don't need 'em.
l| Producer |l You're crazy, kid.
l| Patrick |l When I write lines for my promos, they seem sort of egotistical. When I think it up on the spot, it seems more like me, you know?
l| Producer |l I like your ethics. Let's get going though, I don't want you to be getting rusty on me.
Behind his scratchy half-shaven beard, a set of white teeth shone before he turned his back to me and walked off into the shadows of the room. In my seat, I eased up and relaxed, finding myself a position where I would feel most comfortable.
l| Director |l You ready, Pat?
I yelled out into the pitch black.
l| Patrick |l Ready.
l| Director |l Okay. Five... four... three... two-
I had waited one more second before I saw a small, bright red dot flip on from the shadows. From experience, I knew it was the signal for the camera. I leaned in slightly, closing off the lower portion of my face in shadows.
l| Patrick |l Semifinals. A spot I've been. A spot I've surpassed. Now this week, I'm going up against who? Seamus McArthur. Now don't get me wrong, he's a great opponent. He's made it this far, hasn't he? He's gone just as far as me. But the difference which sets Patrick Glenn apart from Seamus McArthur isn't the fact that I'm smarter than him, stronger than him or faster than him, what sets us apart is just like every each and every other opponent I faced. I advance to that next round.
l| Patrick |l I'm sorry McArthur, I'm sure you've already heard me say this a thousand times. Anybody who's watched me throughout this tournament must think I have an echo in my voice. Well, I don't blame them. You know why? Because I tend to repeat myself. Each and every opponent I face, I tell them the exact thing that's on my mind. Victory. And if you think you're the man that's going to stop me, get in line. Get in line with all the other chumps I've pinned. Sorry to break the news to ya', but you don't change tradition, I do.
I held a finger to my chest, placing a look of anger on my face. Licking my lips, I took a quick second to gather up my thoughts before speaking out once again.
l| Patrick |l McArthur, things are simple. Just like everyone else, you advance as far as you can in the tournament until you're forced to face Patrick Glenn, that's when you call the quits, pack your bags and bring them to the match and prepare yourself for one hell of a fight. Don't believe me? You can ask Sean Hunter, you can ask M.D.K, Stryfe and BTB Barren Earth because quite frankly, they can all tell you the same story. They'll tell you that when you enter that ring, you need to accept one thing. Do you know what that one thing is?
l| Patrick |l Defeat.
l| Patrick |l Seamus McArthur, last Roughkut Invitational you got beat by Neon Leon and you suffered defeat after working so hard, your absolute best to make it to the semifinals. You made a name for yourself, you represented your federation well. However, are you aware of the position you're in now?
l| Patrick |l It's that time of the Invitational again. The semifinals. That one glorious night that could put you into the finals, or it could be that one horrific night that will make you choke for the second time. Seamus, you're going up against an icon, a role model... I'm the perception of perfection, and like I said before...
l| Patrick |l You don't change tradition.
I placed myself at ease, beginning to relax with a cocky smirk pressed upon my face. I could have laughed, I could have finished the promo right then and there. However, one thing managed to stick out in my mind. That one thing I needed to get off my chest.
l| Patrick |l Though there is one thing you did this week that managed to grab my attention. You managed to say something around the lines of "I will not let you be this year's Neon Leon". Now when you said that, it really grabbed my attention, and here's why:
l| Patrick |l I want you to get one thing straight, McArthur. I am not "this year's" Neon Leon. I will never be "this year's" Neon Leon. And Seamus, I want you to get this straight...
l| Patrick |l I don't follow in the footsteps of other wrestlers. I make my own tracks. I don't idolize other wrestlers, I look at myself in the mirror and make something of myself for other people to idolize. I don't dream, I make reality. I am not another Neon Leon.
l| Patrick |l I am the one and only:
l| Patrick |l Patrick Glenn.
A few seconds had elapsed as I sat there in silence, waiting for the hint to get across. Just as I leaned back in the seat, I hear a single human clapping. I smiled slightly after the tiny red dot had faded to black. In crouched a man, roughly the age of thirty-five. My smile only grew bigger as I stood up and out of the seat, motioning towards him.
l| Patrick |l How's it going, man?!
I had given a quick, friendly hug, wrapping my arms over his right shoulder and under his left. He took it lightly before we separated and I had taken a good look at him.
l| Patrick |l I had no idea you were coming to Phoenix.
l| ??? |l I'm up here for wrestling. Besides, I had to come meet my favorite student, right? It's amazing what you've done with yourself. Now you're a huge name in the wrestling industry, you've become an amazing technical wrestler and you're still undefeated. I guess my skills kinda' rubbed off onto you during the year I was working with you, eh?
l| Patrick |l I guess so, man. So how is Matt "The Striker" Fontaine holding up?
l| Matt |l Well after I finished training you, as you know I moved to the states in order to gain some quality records on my résumé. I saw you on TV and I was in a small town nearby and I thought I'd come and visit. I watched your promo, man, good stuff.
l| Patrick |l Thanks a lot, I picked it up from a few students.
l| Matt |l You teach wrestling now?
l| Patrick |l Nah, went to University, got a major in English and now I'm teaching grade ten at a high school in Winnipeg.
Both his eyebrows shot up. I found myself in a bit of surprise he had never heard about it. During the end of my wrestling training, I was already a year or so finished University. However, even that still didn't come as big a shock as his presence in such a place like this.
l| Matt |l So you still believe in the whole "truth" business when you toss up a promo?
l| Patrick |l Always have and always will. I'm feeling extremely confident about my match with McArthur this week. I'm at the pinnacle of my career and I don't plan on stopping now. I admit, he's a great opponent but I feel I'm the one who's going to come out with another win.
l| Matt |l Good- good. I have faith in you.
Just then, we were interrupted by the presence of the director. He stood in between us, politely waiting for us to finish off the last bit of our conversation before he spoke up.
l| Director |l Patrick, you have real talent when you have something to say. You make sure you get the point across, your voice is clear, you didn't need to stop and you didn't hesitate, good job. I'm sure we won't need to do it over again, but just in case you feel like you left something out or forgot to do anything, you want to shoot a second take?
After taking a quick glance at Matt, my mind was easily made up. I didn't hesitate to answer.
l| Patrick |l I think I'm good. Besides, I think I'll just sound like a broken record if I do it again. It'd be like if I wrote lines, and you know, I'm not a big fan of that.
l| Director |l Great. Well it was a pleasure working with you, Mr. Glenn, hopefully we will meet in the future.
l| Patrick |l Thank you.
I gave him a solid handshake, something to solidify a good day's business. My head turned to my right, giving a look of curiosity towards Matt.
l| Patrick |l 'You in the mood for dinner? It'll be my treat.
l| Matt |l I'd like that.
l| Patrick |l Cool. You'll get to meet my girlfriend too.
l| Matt |l Great. Does she wrestle too?
l| Patrick |l Depends how you define wrestling...
A perfectly timed look to add to the joke was the last thing I did before we had headed off, back to my apartment.
The rest of the day had gone smoothely. And quite frankly, my day was rather entertaining. I had spent time with Sasha, met up with an old friend and occupied my time perfectly. It was something I needed. It was refreshing to say the least. Overall, I think today truly was a day that I could remember for a while.
And I can only hope Seamus McArthur had the same…
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