Post by mstryker29 on Jan 20, 2006 22:23:32 GMT -5
January, 1998.
The words come across the screen as a video retrospective begins to air. We’re looking at some classic footage, from long before Valor Wrestling was actually called Valor Wrestling. We’re looking at footage from the vault of UIW, namely, we’re looking at the 1998 edition of the Ultimate Battle Royal. Wrestlefest of years past. There’s 3 men in the ring and a countdown goes on with a conspicuous #5 next to it. Whoever the unlucky soul to walk out next has a hell of a road to walk if he wants to win this. As the clock hits zero a loud buzzer goes off and out walks a man you might recognize. His hair is longer, his face is younger, his wrestling gear is a bit different, but the steely look in his eyes is absolutely unmistakable.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Mike Stryker.
He marches his way to the ring and gets to work. Suddenly the video freezes, and the camera pans back to reveal the man himself, a little bit older, his hair cut short, and a goatee that was not around in 1998. However, that same cold steely gaze is affixed to the camera, a look that you don’t see as much as feel. It’s focus. It’s intensity. It’s what has made Mike Stryker a champion multiple times in this business.
You know, this all seems like an eternity ago. I came walking out of that curtain at my very first wrestlefest, and I couldn’t have found myself in a worse spot. Number 5? I had 3 men in the ring, and 35 more men coming out to meet me. Nobody expected me to last more than 5 minutes. Yeah, I’d had some success. I was the former UIW Cruiserweight champ. I was the only man to hold both the Intercontinental and United States titles at the same time. But while I was making some noise in the middle of the card, I’d never been a world champion. I’d had exactly one heavyweight title shot up until then, and I lost a bloodbath to Adrian Caine when the referee stopped the match. I was just some up and comer who caught an unlucky draw.
Then I lasted a few minutes, and a few more guys came and went. Then a few more. Next thing I know I see number 20 come out. Then 25. Then 30. I survived. I outlasted and outwitted everyone I had to. I somehow held on. There were points in time where I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it, but I was making it. The announcers kept mentioning how long I was in the ring.
20 minutes.
30 minutes.
45 minutes.
As number 40 walked through the curtain and I was still in the ring, people were buzzing. Could it be done? Could someone actually go coast to coast?
An Hour had passed. There were 2 men in the ring. I was one of them. Then, finally, after over 60 minutes of busting my ass…I came up just one man short. Eric Stone, some jamoke who left the company 3 weeks later, got lucky and caught me off guard, sending me out.
Ironically I ended up earning that Super Slam main event match after all in a tournament when Stone walked. I was on my way to becoming World Heavyweight Champion for the very first time. While Super Slam 2 would be my rise to the top of the mountain, Wrestlefest was the day that Mike Stryker truly arrived.
Stryker clicks off the video and smirks, oozing perhaps a little too much confidence for some.
So, why the history lesson? It’s quite simple. It’s to help all of you VWA athletes prepare for the inevitable. Think about it. This was 8 years ago. I came within one man of accomplishing something that people would say is impossible. This was before Mike Stryker began to compile his hall of fame resume. The only man to win every title the UIW had to offer. Former ACW champion. Former MWA triple crown winner. Before all of those things happened…it was the Ultimate Battle Royal. This match, this night, is the night that I remember as being my night. However, one thing bothers me, it eats at my soul. For all the accomplishments, for everything I’ve done over a decade of dominance…I never won.
Simply put, I came within one man of accomplishing something great. As far as I’m concerned, that’s unfinished business. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a blemish on my record. It’s great I spent over an hour fighting in the ring, I had nothing to show for it.
That night in 1998, the night after wrestlefest, I was numb. Depressed. I felt an inch big. I had put on the performance of a lifetime and in the end I didn’t get the job done. It made me question if I could climb the mountain. For the next 8 years, that little piece of depression sat in my soul. It drove me to prove I belonged in the same breath as all the great athletes in this business. And now, I’ve come full circle. It’s been 8 years since Mike Stryker walked the aisle and started his quest to become a legend. Walked an aisle and failed.
This Sunday, I get my chance to heal one more old wound that’s bothered me my whole career. This Sunday, I get my chance to prove that I deserved to go coast to coast once. This Sunday, I’m walking that aisle, 8 years smarter, 8 years wiser, 8 years better. This Sunday, It’s step one in Mike Stryker proving that he’s still the Man to beat in this business.
This Sunday, I have to win, because I can’t live with losing this again.
Stryker keeps his hard gaze on the camera as we fade to black.
The words come across the screen as a video retrospective begins to air. We’re looking at some classic footage, from long before Valor Wrestling was actually called Valor Wrestling. We’re looking at footage from the vault of UIW, namely, we’re looking at the 1998 edition of the Ultimate Battle Royal. Wrestlefest of years past. There’s 3 men in the ring and a countdown goes on with a conspicuous #5 next to it. Whoever the unlucky soul to walk out next has a hell of a road to walk if he wants to win this. As the clock hits zero a loud buzzer goes off and out walks a man you might recognize. His hair is longer, his face is younger, his wrestling gear is a bit different, but the steely look in his eyes is absolutely unmistakable.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Mike Stryker.
He marches his way to the ring and gets to work. Suddenly the video freezes, and the camera pans back to reveal the man himself, a little bit older, his hair cut short, and a goatee that was not around in 1998. However, that same cold steely gaze is affixed to the camera, a look that you don’t see as much as feel. It’s focus. It’s intensity. It’s what has made Mike Stryker a champion multiple times in this business.
You know, this all seems like an eternity ago. I came walking out of that curtain at my very first wrestlefest, and I couldn’t have found myself in a worse spot. Number 5? I had 3 men in the ring, and 35 more men coming out to meet me. Nobody expected me to last more than 5 minutes. Yeah, I’d had some success. I was the former UIW Cruiserweight champ. I was the only man to hold both the Intercontinental and United States titles at the same time. But while I was making some noise in the middle of the card, I’d never been a world champion. I’d had exactly one heavyweight title shot up until then, and I lost a bloodbath to Adrian Caine when the referee stopped the match. I was just some up and comer who caught an unlucky draw.
Then I lasted a few minutes, and a few more guys came and went. Then a few more. Next thing I know I see number 20 come out. Then 25. Then 30. I survived. I outlasted and outwitted everyone I had to. I somehow held on. There were points in time where I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it, but I was making it. The announcers kept mentioning how long I was in the ring.
20 minutes.
30 minutes.
45 minutes.
As number 40 walked through the curtain and I was still in the ring, people were buzzing. Could it be done? Could someone actually go coast to coast?
An Hour had passed. There were 2 men in the ring. I was one of them. Then, finally, after over 60 minutes of busting my ass…I came up just one man short. Eric Stone, some jamoke who left the company 3 weeks later, got lucky and caught me off guard, sending me out.
Ironically I ended up earning that Super Slam main event match after all in a tournament when Stone walked. I was on my way to becoming World Heavyweight Champion for the very first time. While Super Slam 2 would be my rise to the top of the mountain, Wrestlefest was the day that Mike Stryker truly arrived.
Stryker clicks off the video and smirks, oozing perhaps a little too much confidence for some.
So, why the history lesson? It’s quite simple. It’s to help all of you VWA athletes prepare for the inevitable. Think about it. This was 8 years ago. I came within one man of accomplishing something that people would say is impossible. This was before Mike Stryker began to compile his hall of fame resume. The only man to win every title the UIW had to offer. Former ACW champion. Former MWA triple crown winner. Before all of those things happened…it was the Ultimate Battle Royal. This match, this night, is the night that I remember as being my night. However, one thing bothers me, it eats at my soul. For all the accomplishments, for everything I’ve done over a decade of dominance…I never won.
Simply put, I came within one man of accomplishing something great. As far as I’m concerned, that’s unfinished business. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a blemish on my record. It’s great I spent over an hour fighting in the ring, I had nothing to show for it.
That night in 1998, the night after wrestlefest, I was numb. Depressed. I felt an inch big. I had put on the performance of a lifetime and in the end I didn’t get the job done. It made me question if I could climb the mountain. For the next 8 years, that little piece of depression sat in my soul. It drove me to prove I belonged in the same breath as all the great athletes in this business. And now, I’ve come full circle. It’s been 8 years since Mike Stryker walked the aisle and started his quest to become a legend. Walked an aisle and failed.
This Sunday, I get my chance to heal one more old wound that’s bothered me my whole career. This Sunday, I get my chance to prove that I deserved to go coast to coast once. This Sunday, I’m walking that aisle, 8 years smarter, 8 years wiser, 8 years better. This Sunday, It’s step one in Mike Stryker proving that he’s still the Man to beat in this business.
This Sunday, I have to win, because I can’t live with losing this again.
Stryker keeps his hard gaze on the camera as we fade to black.
