Post by Chris Williams on Feb 28, 2010 0:07:46 GMT -5
The camera opens up to reveal Chris Williams, sitting next to his girlfriend, Elisabeth Bledell, in his apartment. They are sitting in front of a box of pictures on his coffee table. The pictures inside the box appear to be from every aspect of Chris’ past. The camera swivels around Chris and peers in over his shoulder as he begins to thumb through a few of the pictures.
He shuffles through a few of the pictures, before stopping at one in particular. He pulls it out of the box, and the PWA audience is exposed to another side of Chris’ past that has never been seen before…
Williams: …My mother.
The camera focuses in on the photograph, and the audience sees a pair of very happy parents, and the mother is holding a newborn baby in her arms.
Williams: One of the few pictures I have of my mother. My family has always said I have my mother’s face, and my father’s build. I’m not sure who the attitude comes from….
Williams snickers for a moment, but then his momentary happiness turns to anger as he flicks the photo back into the box. Elisabeth takes a moment to caress Williams’ arm, comforting him, before trying to understand….
Elisabeth: Why haven’t you ever told me about her?
Williams: She moved out on me and my dad when I was six. She told me she’d come back… she lied. I never knew why.
Elisabeth: You must miss her dearly.
Williams: You can’t miss something that you never had…
Williams shuffles through the box again, continuing to relive his past. He quickly glances over the pictures, before pulling out another photo. In the photo is quite clearly a very young Chris Williams and his father. Chris’ father has Chris on one shoulder, and appears to be spinning around in circles. Chris is smiling ear-to-ear in the photo, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Williams: I was eight years old in this picture. My dad had finally gotten into the career he dreamed of—wrestling. It was a very small regional circuit, and he barely made any money from it, but he made the cut for the league. He was so happy then… We were both happy then.
Elisabeth: Was your father just as good a wrestler as you are?
A solitary tear falls down Williams’ cheek, and he quickly wipes it off with his shirt. He fumbles through more photos, before pulling out a particular photo that is always in the back of Chris’ mind. In the photo, a man is being carried toward an ambulance, strapped into a stretcher. Chris’ voice is shaky, and cracks at points when he talks about the scariest moment of his life.
Williams: It was only his fourth match. In his third match, he had defeated the undercard champion in a non-title fight. The promotion had immediately scheduled a rematch the next week—for the title. They battled back-and-forth the whole night, but my dad didn’t have anything left. The guy he was fighting went to close out the match with his finisher—a Top-rope sit-down piledriver—but my dad’s head was over-exposed. He broke his neck in two places, leaving him temporarily paralyzed.
He spent the next 3-4 months in a hospital, strapped to his bed. If he would have so much as moved the wrong way, he would have been fully paralyzed for the rest of his life.
The hardest part was not being able to see him whenever I wanted. I could only visit him at certain times, and the rest of my time was spent at my grandmother’s house, very much alone.
Chris is unable to look at Elisabeth now, and is forced to look down before continuing.
Williams: When my father was released from the hospital, he immediately retired from wrestling. He said it was too dangerous for the family… if he was ever seriously hurt again, he might not be able to work at all, and there would’ve been no way to support the family. He was a fantastic father… and yes, just as good, if not a better wrestler than I am.
Chris’ voice trails off, as he looks up at a picture hanging on his wall. He is on a tire swing, with his father pushing the tire back and forth. Chris looks down to the ground now, before speaking again.
Williams: So many memories, so many promises. I feel the world’s weight on my shoulders every single day, trying to be the epitome of a great man, a great champion. One mis-step, and I end up like Roc Anderson or Michael Smart. If men like Smart and Roc can be so quickly turned, how can I stand up against it all, and fight it on my own?
Elisabeth: You aren’t alone anymore. You’ve got me now, and I know you’ve got an amazing heart. Nothing can change you.
Williams: Honey, tomorrow I am going up against two great men who, in the blink of an eye, turned against everything they stood for. Everything right, everything that they fought for and defended, they threw away just that easily. How am I supposed to expect them to fight fair? How can I keep them from harming you? I don’t even know if I want you at the arena tomorrow….
Elisabeth: Don’t you worry about me, love. I can take care of myself, you just concentrate on your match. Now come on… let’s get you to bed.
The pair leaves the living room, as the camera fades to black.
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END PROMO
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