N
NCross
Guest
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-30-02 AT 00:26 AM (EDT)](OORP: Oops... I guess Nate also mispronounced the name.)
(From high in the rafters of this decrepit old gym, the camera follows a solitary light shining into a wrestling ring, its canvas torn in several spots, revealing the harsh wood underneath. Standing in the ring, still wearing his gray workout sweats, is Nathan Cross. The camera cuts to another one at ringside as Nate heavily leans on the top rope as if it is the only thing holding him up right now. He looks at the camera, sweat still dripping on his brow, and then begin to speak.)
NC: It looks like I have a champion. (nate smiles) That’s cool, ‘dude’, because that’s all I wanted. I went out against Fearless Jones, and no one cared how fearless he was or who Nate Cross is. I left Gainesville virtually the same as I went in, unknown… and that’s cool… for now. It looks like you’re doing your part to get your name out there, and that’s a solid start for you. Eli Flair, that’s an impressive name to have on your resume. Kevin Powers, he’ll kick your **** but at least you’ve made it entertaining. We have a start, ‘dude’, and that is cool with me.
(Cut to another camera in the ring. Nate slides along the ropes to let his back lean against the turnbuckle.)
You said that you don’t know much about me - Not much to tell. I wanted to put on the trunks and step into the ring since I was 15. I barely graduated high school, so it wasn’t hard to head toward wrestling school. I somehow managed to get a contract with the CSWA fresh out. I love my mom. My dad is a sperm donor… and some day I’d like to kick his ****. Maybe that’s really my goal, who the **** knows. And right now, I’m paying my dues and BUILDING, not biding… but building my time toward a future that I’ve played over in my head a thousand times.
(Nate gestures to the camera as if it was Lance.)
So what about you? From what you’ve said, I have to assume that while you’re on your way to band practice, after a hard evening of skating, that you'll take the time to put your hand on a dumbbell... not counting your skater 'dudes'. Why bother with the CSWA? It’s not like the CSWA launched the careers of Tony Hawk or Tommy Lee. Are you a skate freak? A drummer? Or maybe just some rich kid that decided to wrestle to **** his parents off? I don’t see this as your passion – and that’s my one worry.
(The camera cuts again to outside the ring as Nate turns around, facing out of the ring.)
Does this run through your blood? When I pound you with one of my … (goofy, kid smirk) patented right hands, are you going to hit the mat so you can go home and pound on your drumset? I WON’T give you that priviledge. Maybe in Gainesville, I was just happy to grab a win. But that is not enough… and to be honest, I’d rather lose and have people talk about me losing than WIN and have people talk about the match before mine. That won’t work. That isn’t part of my plan… and that isn’t my future.
(Nate begins to untie the top turnbuckle in the corner.)
I know that future isn’t now. I know that we're not selling out Charleston, packing them in to see us go at it. Heck, right now, I couldn't sell out the 30 seat bingo hall hosting the GXW show... not that anyone is really capable of that. But I'm thrilled because when I step in the ring across from you in Charleston, people are going to know a bit about us and why we do this. You want to win to make enough money to go to the X-Games. And me, I want to win because ... well, just because you said I can't PIN you.
(The turnbuckle undone, Nate pulls the turnbuckle lose from the corner, revealing the metal rope connector.)
And maybe that’s enough. Maybe in Charleston, you’ll do everything in your power to keep your word true, and I’ll do everything in my power to NOT be the popcorn selling king of the CSWA. Maybe that’ll be enough, ‘dude’… maybe that’ll be enough.
(Nate tosses the turnbuckle onto the mat floor. He sits down in the floor, runs his fingers through his hair, and then lays down using the turnbuckle as his pillow. He tries to sleep, and then opens one eye in an effort to find out why he can’t sleep.)
NC: Oh man, I forgot to turn the lights off.
(Nate sits up, shakes his head, mentally scolding himself for the mistake.)
CLAP CLAP
(Nate claps his hands together twice. The lights go black.)
NC: Now I can FINALLY get some sleep.
(From high in the rafters of this decrepit old gym, the camera follows a solitary light shining into a wrestling ring, its canvas torn in several spots, revealing the harsh wood underneath. Standing in the ring, still wearing his gray workout sweats, is Nathan Cross. The camera cuts to another one at ringside as Nate heavily leans on the top rope as if it is the only thing holding him up right now. He looks at the camera, sweat still dripping on his brow, and then begin to speak.)
NC: It looks like I have a champion. (nate smiles) That’s cool, ‘dude’, because that’s all I wanted. I went out against Fearless Jones, and no one cared how fearless he was or who Nate Cross is. I left Gainesville virtually the same as I went in, unknown… and that’s cool… for now. It looks like you’re doing your part to get your name out there, and that’s a solid start for you. Eli Flair, that’s an impressive name to have on your resume. Kevin Powers, he’ll kick your **** but at least you’ve made it entertaining. We have a start, ‘dude’, and that is cool with me.
(Cut to another camera in the ring. Nate slides along the ropes to let his back lean against the turnbuckle.)
You said that you don’t know much about me - Not much to tell. I wanted to put on the trunks and step into the ring since I was 15. I barely graduated high school, so it wasn’t hard to head toward wrestling school. I somehow managed to get a contract with the CSWA fresh out. I love my mom. My dad is a sperm donor… and some day I’d like to kick his ****. Maybe that’s really my goal, who the **** knows. And right now, I’m paying my dues and BUILDING, not biding… but building my time toward a future that I’ve played over in my head a thousand times.
(Nate gestures to the camera as if it was Lance.)
So what about you? From what you’ve said, I have to assume that while you’re on your way to band practice, after a hard evening of skating, that you'll take the time to put your hand on a dumbbell... not counting your skater 'dudes'. Why bother with the CSWA? It’s not like the CSWA launched the careers of Tony Hawk or Tommy Lee. Are you a skate freak? A drummer? Or maybe just some rich kid that decided to wrestle to **** his parents off? I don’t see this as your passion – and that’s my one worry.
(The camera cuts again to outside the ring as Nate turns around, facing out of the ring.)
Does this run through your blood? When I pound you with one of my … (goofy, kid smirk) patented right hands, are you going to hit the mat so you can go home and pound on your drumset? I WON’T give you that priviledge. Maybe in Gainesville, I was just happy to grab a win. But that is not enough… and to be honest, I’d rather lose and have people talk about me losing than WIN and have people talk about the match before mine. That won’t work. That isn’t part of my plan… and that isn’t my future.
(Nate begins to untie the top turnbuckle in the corner.)
I know that future isn’t now. I know that we're not selling out Charleston, packing them in to see us go at it. Heck, right now, I couldn't sell out the 30 seat bingo hall hosting the GXW show... not that anyone is really capable of that. But I'm thrilled because when I step in the ring across from you in Charleston, people are going to know a bit about us and why we do this. You want to win to make enough money to go to the X-Games. And me, I want to win because ... well, just because you said I can't PIN you.
(The turnbuckle undone, Nate pulls the turnbuckle lose from the corner, revealing the metal rope connector.)
And maybe that’s enough. Maybe in Charleston, you’ll do everything in your power to keep your word true, and I’ll do everything in my power to NOT be the popcorn selling king of the CSWA. Maybe that’ll be enough, ‘dude’… maybe that’ll be enough.
(Nate tosses the turnbuckle onto the mat floor. He sits down in the floor, runs his fingers through his hair, and then lays down using the turnbuckle as his pillow. He tries to sleep, and then opens one eye in an effort to find out why he can’t sleep.)
NC: Oh man, I forgot to turn the lights off.
(Nate sits up, shakes his head, mentally scolding himself for the mistake.)
CLAP CLAP
(Nate claps his hands together twice. The lights go black.)
NC: Now I can FINALLY get some sleep.