Post by photographerbob on Jun 24, 2014 21:12:06 GMT -6
After picking up his first victory during UWA's last Monday Night Mayhem show, one would expect Bob Brooks to be celebrating or atleast enjoying the moment. Add to that, him being booked in his first ever SuperShow Searing Agony, you have all the ingredients for a star on the rise. Yet here we are, almost two weeks removed from his first win, just a few days away from his next big adventure, and the man known as Photographer Bob is less than thrilled about his situation in the company. Bob sits alone in his dimly lit studio apartment, staring into the camera haphazardly.
Bob: Ya know, I find myself in an odd situation. I mean last time you all saw me, I was getting my hand raised in victory. I was a winner, triumphant in my second match and succeeding in righting the ship that is my professional wrestling career. After a tough loss, I turned things around, and yet, here I can't shake this feeling of disappointment when I think about my last match.
He brings up a small glass, filled with a dark amber liquid and a few ice cubes. He sips on it for a second, before setting it back down.
Bob: Not often will you find yourself in a position where you are more proud of a loss than a win, but that is where I stand at this very moment. You see in my debut for the company, I fought a tough man from England named Darren Bennet. Me and the self proclaimed Mancunian Nightmare met in the center of the ring, and the two of us pushed one another until the final bell. I feel it was a highly competitive contest that could have gone either way, but on that night, my opponent was just a bit better than me, and I ended up losing. Here is the thing though, regardless of the outcome of the match, I believe I helped make something beautiful that night. People watching were drawn into the show, that could feel our struggles, they understood just how much that match meant to me and Darren, it was a moment worth capturing on film.
Brooks looks away from the camera for a split moment, a smile creeps up on his face as he thinks about his debut with the company.
Bob: I know I am not the only one who is proud of my performance during my first night on the job. Those in charge would go on to reward my effort, by booking me against a man who had manufactured quite the winning streak. Jay Shades, The Bad Boy, a man fighting for respect. I was excited, and while those who fell before him would underestimate his ability, I would not. I had prepared as hard as I possibly could, I downloaded his previous matches online to study his moves, I hit the gym every night to make sure I was stronger and faster than I'd ever been. All the pieces were in place to once again, make something beautiful.
He lowers his head, and shakes it from side to side.
Bob: Only it didn't happen. I prepared for war, I respected my opponent enough to show up for a battle, unfortunately my opponent did not do the same. Bad Boy Jay Shades walked into that ring expecting to be handed another victory. He wasn't there to fight for respect, wasn't there to put on a show, in fact it wouldn't be too far an exaggeration to say Jay Shades wasn't there at all. He may have shown up in body, but his mind was elsewhere, and because of that I was capable of picking up the win with minimal effort. In the heat of the moment, I was excited, I jumped for joy, screamed like a teenage girl bumping into Justin Bieber, but by the end of the night reality had sunk in. My victory felt hollow, the win meant nothing, I knew it, the fans knew it, and truth be told I bet Jay Shades knew it too. There was no moment worth capturing during our last encounter. The worst part of it all though, is that I know it could have been something special. My first win this company will forever be tainted, and it's all because of the lack of respect my opponent gave me. Now here I am, going into my very first Super Show for UWA, and the higher ups have booked me against Jay Shades once again.
The excitement Bob had shown two weeks ago, isn't there today. There is no anticipation for greatness, just a man whose expectations have been drastically lowered.
Bob: Almost two weeks have gone by, I thought maybe Mr. Shades would offer me an explanation as to what happened. He could have apologized for wasting my time, as well as the time the fans spent watching our disaster of a match on Mayhem. If he isn't man enough to admit his blatant lack of respect towards me and this business, he could at the very least made an attempt to lie. Make up an excuse, claim he had the flu, anything at all. Instead I am left with a similar lead up as our last encounter with one another. My ears are ringing, with the sound, of silence.
Brooks raises his head, once again shaking his head no.
Bob: Shame on you Jay. As unfair as it is to me and these fans to get anything less than your absolute best, it's even more unfair to you. You should be able to wake up in the morning and know that you belong with the top talent on the roster. There should be no doubt what so ever that Jay Shades is a bad mamma jamma, and that UWA is on notice. You deserve to feel that passion you had just a month ago, when people started to wonder if Bad Boy would ever lose again. I wish I could say I expected to see that man at Searing Agony, but truth be told, I expect the same shallow, shell of a man I beat two weeks ago. Thing is Jay, this go around, I'm not quite sure I'll allow you to perform at such a level without suffering the deserved repercussions.
Again Bob lifts his chilled amber drink, most likely a form of hard liquor. Another sip is taken, before he lets out a soft sigh and places the drink back down.
Bob: I will give these people a moment worth capturing one way or another Jay. You see, if you won't help me give the people a glorious triumph, then I'll use you to give these people are heart wrenching tragedy. The fall of Jay Shades will be just as memorable as an epic match, a moment in time captured forever. Maybe it'll be something minor, fractured ribs, a minor concussion, or just an embarrassing blow to your dignity. Perhaps it will be a little more brutal than that, maybe your femur snaps in two, and the so called Bad Boy walks with a permanent limp. Better yet, maybe it's your neck that snaps like a twig, and you just never walk again at all. I'd rather it not come to this Jay, I'd much rather just put on a great spectacle, get the man I should have gotten two weeks ago, put on a show, and in the event I win, actually feel like I earned it. But alas, sometimes we don't get what we want, sometimes all we get is disappointment, and sometimes, decent men like me, do terrible things to men like you. [/b]
Brooks runs his hand through his hair, and lets out a slow exasperated sigh.
Bob: Silver lining though, apparently those in charge have about as much faith in you as I do, they've given me a backup plan in the event that you show up a husk of your former self. A man called Quentin Saint has been added to the mix, an element I wish I believed would make a difference. I did the research, watched his latest match from Mayhem, and as unlikely as it is, his performance against Craven may have been even more embarrassing than Jay's performance against me. I am a man who juggles his two loves as best he can, sometimes I spend time honing my craft as a photographer when it might be better spent practicing in a ring. I accept that I am a bit selfish in my desire to do both, and because of this I have been accused of phoning it in and giving it less than my all. Maybe I could do better inside the ring, maybe I could spend a little less time in the clubs looking for America's next top model and a little more time in the local gym hitting the weights or running against the ropes. That said I could never, EVER put on the performance my two opponents at Searing Agony put on at Mayhem. And in the event I ever do, I can only hope that somebody else on the roster, somebody who loves the sport of professional wrestling, and who shows it the respect it deserves, will find me shortly after, and rip my head off my shoulders. So for the sake of the fans who will be watching Searing Agony on Sunday, as well as the sake of Quentin and Jay's physical well being, I hope they don't put on the same performance they did two weeks ago. I want to make something beautiful, but if that isn't possible, then I'll make something very, very ugly. [/b]
Photographer Bob lifts up his glass, and downs the rest of the beverage, as the camera fades to black.
Bob: Ya know, I find myself in an odd situation. I mean last time you all saw me, I was getting my hand raised in victory. I was a winner, triumphant in my second match and succeeding in righting the ship that is my professional wrestling career. After a tough loss, I turned things around, and yet, here I can't shake this feeling of disappointment when I think about my last match.
He brings up a small glass, filled with a dark amber liquid and a few ice cubes. He sips on it for a second, before setting it back down.
Bob: Not often will you find yourself in a position where you are more proud of a loss than a win, but that is where I stand at this very moment. You see in my debut for the company, I fought a tough man from England named Darren Bennet. Me and the self proclaimed Mancunian Nightmare met in the center of the ring, and the two of us pushed one another until the final bell. I feel it was a highly competitive contest that could have gone either way, but on that night, my opponent was just a bit better than me, and I ended up losing. Here is the thing though, regardless of the outcome of the match, I believe I helped make something beautiful that night. People watching were drawn into the show, that could feel our struggles, they understood just how much that match meant to me and Darren, it was a moment worth capturing on film.
Brooks looks away from the camera for a split moment, a smile creeps up on his face as he thinks about his debut with the company.
Bob: I know I am not the only one who is proud of my performance during my first night on the job. Those in charge would go on to reward my effort, by booking me against a man who had manufactured quite the winning streak. Jay Shades, The Bad Boy, a man fighting for respect. I was excited, and while those who fell before him would underestimate his ability, I would not. I had prepared as hard as I possibly could, I downloaded his previous matches online to study his moves, I hit the gym every night to make sure I was stronger and faster than I'd ever been. All the pieces were in place to once again, make something beautiful.
He lowers his head, and shakes it from side to side.
Bob: Only it didn't happen. I prepared for war, I respected my opponent enough to show up for a battle, unfortunately my opponent did not do the same. Bad Boy Jay Shades walked into that ring expecting to be handed another victory. He wasn't there to fight for respect, wasn't there to put on a show, in fact it wouldn't be too far an exaggeration to say Jay Shades wasn't there at all. He may have shown up in body, but his mind was elsewhere, and because of that I was capable of picking up the win with minimal effort. In the heat of the moment, I was excited, I jumped for joy, screamed like a teenage girl bumping into Justin Bieber, but by the end of the night reality had sunk in. My victory felt hollow, the win meant nothing, I knew it, the fans knew it, and truth be told I bet Jay Shades knew it too. There was no moment worth capturing during our last encounter. The worst part of it all though, is that I know it could have been something special. My first win this company will forever be tainted, and it's all because of the lack of respect my opponent gave me. Now here I am, going into my very first Super Show for UWA, and the higher ups have booked me against Jay Shades once again.
The excitement Bob had shown two weeks ago, isn't there today. There is no anticipation for greatness, just a man whose expectations have been drastically lowered.
Bob: Almost two weeks have gone by, I thought maybe Mr. Shades would offer me an explanation as to what happened. He could have apologized for wasting my time, as well as the time the fans spent watching our disaster of a match on Mayhem. If he isn't man enough to admit his blatant lack of respect towards me and this business, he could at the very least made an attempt to lie. Make up an excuse, claim he had the flu, anything at all. Instead I am left with a similar lead up as our last encounter with one another. My ears are ringing, with the sound, of silence.
Brooks raises his head, once again shaking his head no.
Bob: Shame on you Jay. As unfair as it is to me and these fans to get anything less than your absolute best, it's even more unfair to you. You should be able to wake up in the morning and know that you belong with the top talent on the roster. There should be no doubt what so ever that Jay Shades is a bad mamma jamma, and that UWA is on notice. You deserve to feel that passion you had just a month ago, when people started to wonder if Bad Boy would ever lose again. I wish I could say I expected to see that man at Searing Agony, but truth be told, I expect the same shallow, shell of a man I beat two weeks ago. Thing is Jay, this go around, I'm not quite sure I'll allow you to perform at such a level without suffering the deserved repercussions.
Again Bob lifts his chilled amber drink, most likely a form of hard liquor. Another sip is taken, before he lets out a soft sigh and places the drink back down.
Bob: I will give these people a moment worth capturing one way or another Jay. You see, if you won't help me give the people a glorious triumph, then I'll use you to give these people are heart wrenching tragedy. The fall of Jay Shades will be just as memorable as an epic match, a moment in time captured forever. Maybe it'll be something minor, fractured ribs, a minor concussion, or just an embarrassing blow to your dignity. Perhaps it will be a little more brutal than that, maybe your femur snaps in two, and the so called Bad Boy walks with a permanent limp. Better yet, maybe it's your neck that snaps like a twig, and you just never walk again at all. I'd rather it not come to this Jay, I'd much rather just put on a great spectacle, get the man I should have gotten two weeks ago, put on a show, and in the event I win, actually feel like I earned it. But alas, sometimes we don't get what we want, sometimes all we get is disappointment, and sometimes, decent men like me, do terrible things to men like you. [/b]
Brooks runs his hand through his hair, and lets out a slow exasperated sigh.
Bob: Silver lining though, apparently those in charge have about as much faith in you as I do, they've given me a backup plan in the event that you show up a husk of your former self. A man called Quentin Saint has been added to the mix, an element I wish I believed would make a difference. I did the research, watched his latest match from Mayhem, and as unlikely as it is, his performance against Craven may have been even more embarrassing than Jay's performance against me. I am a man who juggles his two loves as best he can, sometimes I spend time honing my craft as a photographer when it might be better spent practicing in a ring. I accept that I am a bit selfish in my desire to do both, and because of this I have been accused of phoning it in and giving it less than my all. Maybe I could do better inside the ring, maybe I could spend a little less time in the clubs looking for America's next top model and a little more time in the local gym hitting the weights or running against the ropes. That said I could never, EVER put on the performance my two opponents at Searing Agony put on at Mayhem. And in the event I ever do, I can only hope that somebody else on the roster, somebody who loves the sport of professional wrestling, and who shows it the respect it deserves, will find me shortly after, and rip my head off my shoulders. So for the sake of the fans who will be watching Searing Agony on Sunday, as well as the sake of Quentin and Jay's physical well being, I hope they don't put on the same performance they did two weeks ago. I want to make something beautiful, but if that isn't possible, then I'll make something very, very ugly. [/b]
Photographer Bob lifts up his glass, and downs the rest of the beverage, as the camera fades to black.