Steve
the EX-QUEEN of FW~!
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-28-02 AT 08:31 PM (EDT)](FADE-IN: An unshaven Mark Windham, wearing a WINTER’S WARRIORS VII t-shirt, black jeans and black hiking boots, stands on the ledge of a city billboard promoting FISH FUND XIII. Windham runs his right hand through his thick dirty-blonde hair as it’s tossed by a strong wind.)
Mark Windham: “Fish Fund XIII: Windham vs. Aho for the title. The park was rebuilt, and now Merritt’s betting that people will file in and fork over thirty bucks at home to see if Windham’s Lost Soul is next to be rebuilt. It’s good theater if everybody can sit on their hands and wait for the truth. But that’s never been what the CSWA has been about, has it?
On the marquee at Fish Fund, in Sweetwater, Texas where over thirty years ago I buried a truth, it’s the name Windham on sale again. In no other town does the name sell as well, or mean as much to the CSWA’s bottom line as it does here. That’s what it means. So Eric Wright, Dwiddle Dee and Dwiddle dumb and whoever the hell else who doesn’t think Mark Windham belongs at the top of the card, the long of it is another man wouldn’t produce the goods as well, and the short is, shut up, your tears aren't about to make me care. Fair? Maybe not, but that’s business boys, and business will always be good when it follows the golden rule.
Over thirty years ago, just mere miles from the resurrected Park I can see now, the ability to dream died, and a young boy was left afraid to turn on the light and dealing fast with the events of two deaths. I wanted to be above Sweetwater, so I could see it all one more time. See those long nights growing up keeping an uncle’s drunken face out of Troy’s life. The fire, a cry for help I never heard, and my best friend bedding my ex-wife.
But I’ve learned hard and well. Mark Windham wasn’t special. Not at all, others had it worse. There’s no normal life, there’s just life. If I’m a little slow dealing with anything, it’s picking up the pieces and moving on.
I know no other place that’s been as bad to me, but I’ve never fully been able to get away. I could hide and wrestle for another organization that doesn’t want to ride my back through town, collecting truckloads of cash as we go. That’s the easy way. That’s the path I took for four years. But when I was running, I tripped and fell and was forced to stay still long enough to be awakened. Sweetwater, Texas may be hell, but it’s always been the center of the Lost Soul and if there’s a key to becoming the man I want to be, God only knows it’s inside these city walls. It’s inside the dreams I lost as a boy. But there’s no more dreaming, it’s time to pony up, and show if I’m still half a man. I’ve been searching too long to put off the truth any longer. I need to hear it. I need to see it. I need to walk out of that da*n Park, with a belt and a moral responsibility to save something that’s too beaten to save itself.
I don’t dine at night on fame and glory, and I’m not bringing my best back home simply to cash in and become THE man. Because the fact of the matter is I’ve been the man for the last fourteen years. If you don’t believe it, then ask yourself why Eric Wright was the only one brave enough to publicly question why I was being pushed to the light. Because the others, they know. Do they ever know.
They know Mark Windham even if he takes the fall, will beat their **** form pillar to post. GUNS, Bonecrusher, HEAT, Hornet, Flair, Love, the list goes on. I haven’t just beaten them all, I’ve put their right foot in a grave when I’ve been right. Admittedly that hasn't been often in the past few years, but that’s the fun of Sweetwater. You never know whether it’ll bring me heaven or hell.
If you wanna know beyond a shadow of a doubt, Eric, why I’m here. Ask Mike Randalls. For everything he is, and all he’s done, he’s never taken a confident step towards me. Why? Because I’m not one for games, but I am one for searching through darkness and taking pain.
But all this, everything coming out of my mouth right now, no it has nothing to do with Evan Aho. Aho you’re the technical master, a man above the immoral law of the CSWA, who doesn’t believe wit should mean wins. You’ve earned what you’ve gotten, and I respect that. But Evan, you’re going to have to come out of that shell if you want to get the job done. You’ve pushed the past out of sight by over controlling everything you can. That may be good for a title and good earning power, but away from the business Evan, are you driving yourself mad?
Everybody is afraid. That’s the way it should be. But the one thing you fear, is going to eat you alive. In Sweetwater, Texas, champ, I’m layin’ your fears on the table and it’s going to be up to you to come out of that shell and accept the truth.
I’m coming home, and finally I feel the awakening is near.
Mark Windham: “Fish Fund XIII: Windham vs. Aho for the title. The park was rebuilt, and now Merritt’s betting that people will file in and fork over thirty bucks at home to see if Windham’s Lost Soul is next to be rebuilt. It’s good theater if everybody can sit on their hands and wait for the truth. But that’s never been what the CSWA has been about, has it?
On the marquee at Fish Fund, in Sweetwater, Texas where over thirty years ago I buried a truth, it’s the name Windham on sale again. In no other town does the name sell as well, or mean as much to the CSWA’s bottom line as it does here. That’s what it means. So Eric Wright, Dwiddle Dee and Dwiddle dumb and whoever the hell else who doesn’t think Mark Windham belongs at the top of the card, the long of it is another man wouldn’t produce the goods as well, and the short is, shut up, your tears aren't about to make me care. Fair? Maybe not, but that’s business boys, and business will always be good when it follows the golden rule.
Over thirty years ago, just mere miles from the resurrected Park I can see now, the ability to dream died, and a young boy was left afraid to turn on the light and dealing fast with the events of two deaths. I wanted to be above Sweetwater, so I could see it all one more time. See those long nights growing up keeping an uncle’s drunken face out of Troy’s life. The fire, a cry for help I never heard, and my best friend bedding my ex-wife.
But I’ve learned hard and well. Mark Windham wasn’t special. Not at all, others had it worse. There’s no normal life, there’s just life. If I’m a little slow dealing with anything, it’s picking up the pieces and moving on.
I know no other place that’s been as bad to me, but I’ve never fully been able to get away. I could hide and wrestle for another organization that doesn’t want to ride my back through town, collecting truckloads of cash as we go. That’s the easy way. That’s the path I took for four years. But when I was running, I tripped and fell and was forced to stay still long enough to be awakened. Sweetwater, Texas may be hell, but it’s always been the center of the Lost Soul and if there’s a key to becoming the man I want to be, God only knows it’s inside these city walls. It’s inside the dreams I lost as a boy. But there’s no more dreaming, it’s time to pony up, and show if I’m still half a man. I’ve been searching too long to put off the truth any longer. I need to hear it. I need to see it. I need to walk out of that da*n Park, with a belt and a moral responsibility to save something that’s too beaten to save itself.
I don’t dine at night on fame and glory, and I’m not bringing my best back home simply to cash in and become THE man. Because the fact of the matter is I’ve been the man for the last fourteen years. If you don’t believe it, then ask yourself why Eric Wright was the only one brave enough to publicly question why I was being pushed to the light. Because the others, they know. Do they ever know.
They know Mark Windham even if he takes the fall, will beat their **** form pillar to post. GUNS, Bonecrusher, HEAT, Hornet, Flair, Love, the list goes on. I haven’t just beaten them all, I’ve put their right foot in a grave when I’ve been right. Admittedly that hasn't been often in the past few years, but that’s the fun of Sweetwater. You never know whether it’ll bring me heaven or hell.
If you wanna know beyond a shadow of a doubt, Eric, why I’m here. Ask Mike Randalls. For everything he is, and all he’s done, he’s never taken a confident step towards me. Why? Because I’m not one for games, but I am one for searching through darkness and taking pain.
But all this, everything coming out of my mouth right now, no it has nothing to do with Evan Aho. Aho you’re the technical master, a man above the immoral law of the CSWA, who doesn’t believe wit should mean wins. You’ve earned what you’ve gotten, and I respect that. But Evan, you’re going to have to come out of that shell if you want to get the job done. You’ve pushed the past out of sight by over controlling everything you can. That may be good for a title and good earning power, but away from the business Evan, are you driving yourself mad?
Everybody is afraid. That’s the way it should be. But the one thing you fear, is going to eat you alive. In Sweetwater, Texas, champ, I’m layin’ your fears on the table and it’s going to be up to you to come out of that shell and accept the truth.
I’m coming home, and finally I feel the awakening is near.