Post by Sullivan on Dec 11, 2016 5:54:44 GMT -5
Saturday 3rd December
o2 Arena, Bristol, England
South West Wrestling Federation
"ONE..
TWO..
THREE!"
The partisan Bristol crowd shouted in rhythm with the Referees hand as he slapped the canvas of the rusty old ring. No sooner had the third count been made and he was signalling for the bell to be rung. "Irish Blood, English Heart" bellowed from the speakers as Jake Sullivan stood up in the centre of the ring. He looked down at the crumpled, veteran body beneath him and raised his arm in the air. He motioned to the sound technician to cut his music and be handed a microphone as things began to quiet down. He paused for a moment, surveying the crowd.
"Good evening, Bristol. I think it's time we cleared the air."
There was an audible cheer at the city's namecheck, followed by a suspense and silence that pleased him greatly. He looked around the crowd, on their feet, murmuring quietly with speculation.
"Let's be honest, there are no secrets in this day and age. Word spreads, people talk, sometimes things get posted on social media before they even happen. But incase you're wondering, yes, the rumours are true. That right there was my last ever match in the SWWF. Possibly my last ever match on English soil. I know a lot of you saw this coming, I'm never one to shy away from the truth. If there's an elephant in the room Jake Sullivan is the one that points it out. But enough is enough. I'm sick and tired of being held back. That guy tonight wasn't fit to lace my boots tonight. This company won't throw me a bone, but thankfully for me, there are others that will.
"I realise it's always been a bit a bit up and down between us. One minute you're chanting my name from the rooftops, the next you're jeering me out the arena. I've never asked for your approval, nor have I gone out my way to insult you. I like to think we have an understanding, I like to think we have a mutual respect. But you guys pay your hard earned money to watch this product, to see guys like me put on a show. So with that I will explain my reasons.
"The fact is I've hit a glass ceiling in this company. You may beg to differ but that's it's the truth. When I came in here I hit the ground running. I beat everyone they put in front of me, and it wasn't long before I had gold around my waist. Being a champion was a fantastic feeling, I felt proud to get that first taste of success, especially so quickly. But it became a hindrance rather than a blessing. I should have been facing the bigger names on this roster, instead they kept me curtain jerking against lightweight journeymen. That may sound arrogant, and it is to a degree. Most people would be grateful to be a Cruiserweight champion, but I have big ambitions. I want success and I want to improve. I want to face the best of the best, and as much as I enjoyed my time, and as much as I love this city, the best isn't here. The best is in America, Japan, and Mexico. British wrestling is in a good place right now but there are bigger markets and I am my own brand.
"There are guys in the back, they've been here ten, fifteen, maybe twenty years. They haven't moved this company on in that time. They haven't moved themselves on. Years ago this place would be packed to the rafters, but not any more. Those of you that still come I admire your loyalty. I hope things get better, I hope one day I'll see you all again. But the next time you see me will be tearing the house down in an American arena.
"I always said I don't wrestle for the fans, I wrestle for myself. That hasn't changed. But without you guys we wouldn't be here, so thank you for supporting my career, this promotion, and this industry in general. I may not be the man who dives into the crowd after a big win, but you guys deserve more. Hopefully you'll follow my career in the States, hopefully I'll return here one day with more titles, having made you proud and put this city on the map."
The fans began to clap as a quintessentially British "Bristol 'til I die" chant echoed through the arena. Jake dropped the mic, sensing the positive vibe as good opportunity to exit the ring, and the SWWF arena for the final time.
o2 Arena, Bristol, England
South West Wrestling Federation
"ONE..
TWO..
THREE!"
The partisan Bristol crowd shouted in rhythm with the Referees hand as he slapped the canvas of the rusty old ring. No sooner had the third count been made and he was signalling for the bell to be rung. "Irish Blood, English Heart" bellowed from the speakers as Jake Sullivan stood up in the centre of the ring. He looked down at the crumpled, veteran body beneath him and raised his arm in the air. He motioned to the sound technician to cut his music and be handed a microphone as things began to quiet down. He paused for a moment, surveying the crowd.
"Good evening, Bristol. I think it's time we cleared the air."
There was an audible cheer at the city's namecheck, followed by a suspense and silence that pleased him greatly. He looked around the crowd, on their feet, murmuring quietly with speculation.
"Let's be honest, there are no secrets in this day and age. Word spreads, people talk, sometimes things get posted on social media before they even happen. But incase you're wondering, yes, the rumours are true. That right there was my last ever match in the SWWF. Possibly my last ever match on English soil. I know a lot of you saw this coming, I'm never one to shy away from the truth. If there's an elephant in the room Jake Sullivan is the one that points it out. But enough is enough. I'm sick and tired of being held back. That guy tonight wasn't fit to lace my boots tonight. This company won't throw me a bone, but thankfully for me, there are others that will.
"I realise it's always been a bit a bit up and down between us. One minute you're chanting my name from the rooftops, the next you're jeering me out the arena. I've never asked for your approval, nor have I gone out my way to insult you. I like to think we have an understanding, I like to think we have a mutual respect. But you guys pay your hard earned money to watch this product, to see guys like me put on a show. So with that I will explain my reasons.
"The fact is I've hit a glass ceiling in this company. You may beg to differ but that's it's the truth. When I came in here I hit the ground running. I beat everyone they put in front of me, and it wasn't long before I had gold around my waist. Being a champion was a fantastic feeling, I felt proud to get that first taste of success, especially so quickly. But it became a hindrance rather than a blessing. I should have been facing the bigger names on this roster, instead they kept me curtain jerking against lightweight journeymen. That may sound arrogant, and it is to a degree. Most people would be grateful to be a Cruiserweight champion, but I have big ambitions. I want success and I want to improve. I want to face the best of the best, and as much as I enjoyed my time, and as much as I love this city, the best isn't here. The best is in America, Japan, and Mexico. British wrestling is in a good place right now but there are bigger markets and I am my own brand.
"There are guys in the back, they've been here ten, fifteen, maybe twenty years. They haven't moved this company on in that time. They haven't moved themselves on. Years ago this place would be packed to the rafters, but not any more. Those of you that still come I admire your loyalty. I hope things get better, I hope one day I'll see you all again. But the next time you see me will be tearing the house down in an American arena.
"I always said I don't wrestle for the fans, I wrestle for myself. That hasn't changed. But without you guys we wouldn't be here, so thank you for supporting my career, this promotion, and this industry in general. I may not be the man who dives into the crowd after a big win, but you guys deserve more. Hopefully you'll follow my career in the States, hopefully I'll return here one day with more titles, having made you proud and put this city on the map."
The fans began to clap as a quintessentially British "Bristol 'til I die" chant echoed through the arena. Jake dropped the mic, sensing the positive vibe as good opportunity to exit the ring, and the SWWF arena for the final time.