- Messages
- 168
- Points
- 63
(Images of a battlefield flash across the screen. Bodies lay lifeless, souls snatched away by the horrors of conflict. A drumbeat softly plays and gets louder as the imagery gets more and more violent. Suddenly, it snaps to black as the beat stops. Then, the camera fades in on the face of Kirk Redwood. Only illuminated by what could be mistaken for candle light.)
A man who isn’t aware of his actions is no man at all.
My entire life, I have waged a war against something or someone. From institutions to my fellow jailbirds, fighting has always been my initial instinct. Sometimes, that instinct made me money. Provided me the means to care for my family. Hell, it provided me a way to stay sane. The other end of that though, is that it cost me everything. Too blind to see that fighting on the street for money was a quick fix for a large wound, I ended up inside a cell. It was pure luck that I didn’t end up getting a longer sentence than I did. And for some people, that cycle continues on and on when they get locked up. They get out, offend, get locked up again. When I finished my time and qualified for parole, I found this job and was grateful for it. Finally, I could make a legitimate job out of the only thing I knew!…but then I kept on losing more. My wife, custody of my daughter, my sanity…it was all gone within months of signing with EAW. That’s when the fight, the REAL fight I’ve had my entire life started: Kirk Redwood versus Kirk Redwood.
When I started drinking, all I did was lash out at everybody else. I blamed the company, I blamed alcohol, but I never turned the mirror inwards. When I finally did, it was far too late to make any real amends. Even the tag team title run we had wasn’t anything near where I knew I could’ve been. Stumbling around the ring, cracking jokes, fucking around instead of teaming…it was stupid. It was stupid and a waste of the precious time I could have used to make a name for myself. When I finally started making sense of my life, when I finally saw myself as the enemy instead a casualty of war, it was like the fog had lifted. Everything I ever thought or said started to become clearer to me than ever. Kirk Redwood fucked his life up. Kirk Redwood pushed away his family. Kirk Redwood is the reason Kirk Redwood wasn’t winning matches.
(The image fades to a clip of Solomon Stane versus Kirk Redwood. The clip freezes as Stane’s hand is raised.)
When I became sober, Stane wasn’t there for me. From the start he was questioning my killer instinct. He was mad that I didn’t want to drink, fuck around, and play dirty anymore. In his deluded mind, I was no longer worthy of being his tag team partner. Remember, it was him who started cracking OBA…and it was him who hammered home our end after we departed ways amicably. And from there, his career has soared to new heights. Other wrestlers respect him, he’s been going after bigger game, and he’s only gotten more demented over time. I won’t pretend that my career has been shot to the moon since then. Hell, half of my opponents LOVE to make the argument that was the anchor on OBA. The truth is, I was too blind to see that there was a knife against my back since the day we formed. He pulled me out of that ring, we got that title match, we won the belts, and the whole time he was waiting to betray me. I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to be some glue-sniffing looney-toon trying hard to be Jim Jones. What I want to be now…is a father.
(Now a replay of Kirk Redwoods initial conversation with his daughter. The fateful moment where he realized all of his shit was rolling downhill. After, it fades back to his face.)
Every week for over a year, she either watched or heard her father go out on TV to embarrass her and her mother. Every week she would hear about the drunken promo and vulgar language I was throwing around. Every week she was degraded by my image. It’s too late for me to run back and play daddy. She’s almost eighteen now. Half her life I was locked up and then a couple years after that I was running wild…so all I can do now is be the man I want her to look up to. Even if that means I have to take the slowest path possible…it’s the one that I HAVE to take. That means no cheating, no excuses, no nonsense in that ring. It means I’m not going to throw out cheap insults just to get my opponent pissed off. It means that I’m going to never stop until my body drops.
(A video now plays of Kirk Redwood losing his title match to Veena Adams. As it fades back to Redwood, the candle flame seems to be dwindling.)
When I won that contenders match after months of hard work, I thought that I had come far enough to take the belt back home to my daughter. It was going to be the culmination of every change I’ve made in my life. But…in the end I failed to capture that title. And for a brief moment, I felt my grip slipping. The hunger for liquor and violence started pounding away at my soul. As I beat that hunger back down into it’s corner, I knew that if I changed paths now I’d be worthless. If I struggled and walked away, then I wouldn’t be able to call myself a man by any stretch of the imagination. When I call myself Unkillable, it’s not just a nickname or a brag. It’s a promise to my daughter and myself that I will not back away the second it gets hard. It’s a long way to heaven when your road starts in hell. And there are few other wrestlers who have started from the position I have. I don’t have the same training, I don’t have the same tactics, and I don’t have the same lust for the title. What I have is a burning desire to be the best version of Kirk Redwood that could possibly exist. The strongest, fastest, most honorable version of myself.
(Flashes of the other Grand Rampage entrants play. When they end, the image turns back to Redwood. Now, the candle is burning brightly and intensely.)
Grand Rampage is the match I love the least. Everywhere you look there’s talented guys competing over the exact same thing as you. They all have their own reasons, mostly centered around money, greed, and ego. Everybody wants to be the best just so they can have the title. Some people want to be a champion just because they want the money. Some of these people, like Chambers, are just chasing days that are long behind them. I’m not an idiot. When it comes down to it, there are few people in this match that are less likely to win than Kirk Redwood. Nobody has money placed on me to win it. But as I said…that doesn’t change a damn thing. I have to throw myself up against the wall time and time again until I arrive at my destination or drop dead. No matter how many half-baked comedy routines are run at me, no matter how much doubt is placed is at my feet, I don’t need anybody in that locker room to tell me a DAMN THING!
Whether it’s a ghost from my past or a pest in my present, I’ve faced a lot of these guys before. Most of them have beat me, some of them have lost, and the others I don’t even remember. I could run through them all, say I think Kinkade sucks shit, say Johnson still can’t reach me, but only one man in this match is relevant to Kirk Redwood right now. Only one of them has been in my face. Terry Chambers, this isn’t your moment. This isn’t the match where you triumphantly return and take the world title back on the run of a lifetime. Someway or another, somebody is taking you down. If nobody manages to do it before I do, then the task is going to be on my shoulders. Wanna know why that is? Because I recognize you as a threat. You’re world championship run was a long time ago though. You aren’t up to date with the roster or who’s who around here. Walking in and taking charge? That ain’t going to work for me brother. I’ve been working on this roster waaaaay too long to let you walk in here and disrespect it. Worse, I’m not going to let you slide with insulting me. Part of being a man is standing up for yourself in a way that works. That means beating you in the ring in a way that cannot be denied or misconstrued.
I’m not here to prove myself to anybody in that ring. Whether or not they go on believing I’m the scum of the earth or a rising star is their business. But my daughter is going to be watching. I can’t let any insults towards her or myself stand. Otherwise, she’s going to go through life thinking disrespect is something you can’t do anything about. It’s not about changing minds, but it is about leaving nothing unsaid. And that is ultimately what the plan is for this match:
Doing the right thing.
Winning or losing based purely on where I am as a wrestler. I believe I’ve come far enough to outlast every man in this match. I can’t NOT believe that. From everything that I’ve put myself through, I cannot allow myself to fall short of my own expectations.
So I won’t.
(The camera fades to Redwood, but it only catches the candle which is burning to it’s end. As the wax finishes melting, the candle dies and the screen becomes black.)
A man who isn’t aware of his actions is no man at all.
My entire life, I have waged a war against something or someone. From institutions to my fellow jailbirds, fighting has always been my initial instinct. Sometimes, that instinct made me money. Provided me the means to care for my family. Hell, it provided me a way to stay sane. The other end of that though, is that it cost me everything. Too blind to see that fighting on the street for money was a quick fix for a large wound, I ended up inside a cell. It was pure luck that I didn’t end up getting a longer sentence than I did. And for some people, that cycle continues on and on when they get locked up. They get out, offend, get locked up again. When I finished my time and qualified for parole, I found this job and was grateful for it. Finally, I could make a legitimate job out of the only thing I knew!…but then I kept on losing more. My wife, custody of my daughter, my sanity…it was all gone within months of signing with EAW. That’s when the fight, the REAL fight I’ve had my entire life started: Kirk Redwood versus Kirk Redwood.
When I started drinking, all I did was lash out at everybody else. I blamed the company, I blamed alcohol, but I never turned the mirror inwards. When I finally did, it was far too late to make any real amends. Even the tag team title run we had wasn’t anything near where I knew I could’ve been. Stumbling around the ring, cracking jokes, fucking around instead of teaming…it was stupid. It was stupid and a waste of the precious time I could have used to make a name for myself. When I finally started making sense of my life, when I finally saw myself as the enemy instead a casualty of war, it was like the fog had lifted. Everything I ever thought or said started to become clearer to me than ever. Kirk Redwood fucked his life up. Kirk Redwood pushed away his family. Kirk Redwood is the reason Kirk Redwood wasn’t winning matches.
(The image fades to a clip of Solomon Stane versus Kirk Redwood. The clip freezes as Stane’s hand is raised.)
When I became sober, Stane wasn’t there for me. From the start he was questioning my killer instinct. He was mad that I didn’t want to drink, fuck around, and play dirty anymore. In his deluded mind, I was no longer worthy of being his tag team partner. Remember, it was him who started cracking OBA…and it was him who hammered home our end after we departed ways amicably. And from there, his career has soared to new heights. Other wrestlers respect him, he’s been going after bigger game, and he’s only gotten more demented over time. I won’t pretend that my career has been shot to the moon since then. Hell, half of my opponents LOVE to make the argument that was the anchor on OBA. The truth is, I was too blind to see that there was a knife against my back since the day we formed. He pulled me out of that ring, we got that title match, we won the belts, and the whole time he was waiting to betray me. I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to be some glue-sniffing looney-toon trying hard to be Jim Jones. What I want to be now…is a father.
(Now a replay of Kirk Redwoods initial conversation with his daughter. The fateful moment where he realized all of his shit was rolling downhill. After, it fades back to his face.)
Every week for over a year, she either watched or heard her father go out on TV to embarrass her and her mother. Every week she would hear about the drunken promo and vulgar language I was throwing around. Every week she was degraded by my image. It’s too late for me to run back and play daddy. She’s almost eighteen now. Half her life I was locked up and then a couple years after that I was running wild…so all I can do now is be the man I want her to look up to. Even if that means I have to take the slowest path possible…it’s the one that I HAVE to take. That means no cheating, no excuses, no nonsense in that ring. It means I’m not going to throw out cheap insults just to get my opponent pissed off. It means that I’m going to never stop until my body drops.
(A video now plays of Kirk Redwood losing his title match to Veena Adams. As it fades back to Redwood, the candle flame seems to be dwindling.)
When I won that contenders match after months of hard work, I thought that I had come far enough to take the belt back home to my daughter. It was going to be the culmination of every change I’ve made in my life. But…in the end I failed to capture that title. And for a brief moment, I felt my grip slipping. The hunger for liquor and violence started pounding away at my soul. As I beat that hunger back down into it’s corner, I knew that if I changed paths now I’d be worthless. If I struggled and walked away, then I wouldn’t be able to call myself a man by any stretch of the imagination. When I call myself Unkillable, it’s not just a nickname or a brag. It’s a promise to my daughter and myself that I will not back away the second it gets hard. It’s a long way to heaven when your road starts in hell. And there are few other wrestlers who have started from the position I have. I don’t have the same training, I don’t have the same tactics, and I don’t have the same lust for the title. What I have is a burning desire to be the best version of Kirk Redwood that could possibly exist. The strongest, fastest, most honorable version of myself.
(Flashes of the other Grand Rampage entrants play. When they end, the image turns back to Redwood. Now, the candle is burning brightly and intensely.)
Grand Rampage is the match I love the least. Everywhere you look there’s talented guys competing over the exact same thing as you. They all have their own reasons, mostly centered around money, greed, and ego. Everybody wants to be the best just so they can have the title. Some people want to be a champion just because they want the money. Some of these people, like Chambers, are just chasing days that are long behind them. I’m not an idiot. When it comes down to it, there are few people in this match that are less likely to win than Kirk Redwood. Nobody has money placed on me to win it. But as I said…that doesn’t change a damn thing. I have to throw myself up against the wall time and time again until I arrive at my destination or drop dead. No matter how many half-baked comedy routines are run at me, no matter how much doubt is placed is at my feet, I don’t need anybody in that locker room to tell me a DAMN THING!
Whether it’s a ghost from my past or a pest in my present, I’ve faced a lot of these guys before. Most of them have beat me, some of them have lost, and the others I don’t even remember. I could run through them all, say I think Kinkade sucks shit, say Johnson still can’t reach me, but only one man in this match is relevant to Kirk Redwood right now. Only one of them has been in my face. Terry Chambers, this isn’t your moment. This isn’t the match where you triumphantly return and take the world title back on the run of a lifetime. Someway or another, somebody is taking you down. If nobody manages to do it before I do, then the task is going to be on my shoulders. Wanna know why that is? Because I recognize you as a threat. You’re world championship run was a long time ago though. You aren’t up to date with the roster or who’s who around here. Walking in and taking charge? That ain’t going to work for me brother. I’ve been working on this roster waaaaay too long to let you walk in here and disrespect it. Worse, I’m not going to let you slide with insulting me. Part of being a man is standing up for yourself in a way that works. That means beating you in the ring in a way that cannot be denied or misconstrued.
I’m not here to prove myself to anybody in that ring. Whether or not they go on believing I’m the scum of the earth or a rising star is their business. But my daughter is going to be watching. I can’t let any insults towards her or myself stand. Otherwise, she’s going to go through life thinking disrespect is something you can’t do anything about. It’s not about changing minds, but it is about leaving nothing unsaid. And that is ultimately what the plan is for this match:
Doing the right thing.
Winning or losing based purely on where I am as a wrestler. I believe I’ve come far enough to outlast every man in this match. I can’t NOT believe that. From everything that I’ve put myself through, I cannot allow myself to fall short of my own expectations.
So I won’t.
(The camera fades to Redwood, but it only catches the candle which is burning to it’s end. As the wax finishes melting, the candle dies and the screen becomes black.)
