Beauty rests on the mountain tops.
W I L D H E A R T
Such beauty rests below.
Chapter Three: Legend, Rise
Until the top becomes a monster.
Fighting Spirit, May 30th, 2020
And destroys what lies below
Do I need to spell it out so blatantly? I guess so.
I embrace everything, Andre.
I’m a handpicked, selected, crafted, raised, tended to and most importantly, elevated undeservingly to Champion status. I earned little and I obtained everything. I wrestled very little, very very little and skipped over the old proving grounds of Fight Grid. Wrestled one week, took two weeks off. Didn’t have a match, didn’t have to waste my time. Had a lackluster record, had nothing of worth to raise as a considerable reason as to why I should have been the Number One Contender or even been in that match to begin with. Other people deserved it more than me. Other people had done more than me. And guess what? THEY GOT FUCKING NOTHING! Nothing over and over again while I was thrusted into the stratosphere and I took my chance to cling to those stars above. There’s no collapsing back down to earth. Do you really think it bothers me that I was handed everything? Absolutely not. Not even one iota of a fuck is given about the perspective of bottom-feeding cunts who think that similar other bottom-feeding cunts are somehow Dynasty’s best -- or is it exciting and young? When did this narrative change? Shit I don’t think I’ll bother trying to keep up if you’re gonna keep switching the tracks this deluded hype train runs on but I’ll get to that in a little bit. If it’s to try and twist this into this ideal that I’m a cancer to the title and the division despite none of what I’ve done - or little I’ve done - and the helping hand I’ve had to get here is a detriment to either, especially when even I did more to get what I have, then I guess I’ll do you the favour given without this substructure the grand tower of reasons why Jalyn Garcia is such an awful Champion completely tumbles apart. No, wait, fuck it I’d love to see that shit come crashing down. Jamie O’Hara won this title in just five weeks. Five weeks. Do you know who he beat to earn it? Fucking nobody, absolutely fucking nobody. I don’t think even he remembers anyone he faced over the first month of his career here. He never had to even earn the contendership, it was handed to him and nearly on the first night he showed up. Was he a cancer to this title? This division? Considering he went on to become the greatest New Breed Champion in history means that he wasn’t yet he did even less than me to become Champion. Regardless the point isn’t about how he became Champion or how quickly it took him, rather it’s what he did with the Championship that defined him as the greatest. I’ve been taught that the duty of the Champion is to do two things; raise the competition below him and take the title to face greater opponents, World Champions specifically, to prove that the New Breed can hang with the best. Now, I know you like to dismiss how I lost a triple threat match and how I lost and how I failed and yadda yadda all that selective narrative bullshit you’re clinging to but I did just about that in my first appearance as Champion, taking it to the main event of Voltage and coming rather close to beating the EAW World and Interwire Champions. The result itself is irrelevant, I fulfilled that expectation. I mean by all means point out my losses and the defeats, you’re supposedly so well educated on my career and certainly wouldn't contradict your own belief that a Champion should research his opponent completely and utterly, but at least don’t be a fucking little coward with a black marker streaking out the details. If you want to insult me for having an easy path to becoming the Number One Contender for this Championship then at least get it correct. I’ll give you a free pass on this contradiction. Regardless my privilege was even greater than you perceived, I did far less to earn what I was eventually handed. Again Andre, I don’t try to escape this nor see it as a flaw to my being; not a detriment to my image nor adds to this apparent perspective you hold of me being a “cancer” to the New Breed. The difference between us is that I realise where I am and don’t rebel against it; I weaponize it, just another bullet in the chamber to fire back at the cunts who think that I should be ashamed for what has been given to me. And the very best you have when faced with that criticism that you are not a hard earned contender in your own right, that perhaps some people or someone may have given you a slight hand in reaching this point, is to turn it back on the person who fucking soaks this shit in.
Your ace in the hole is a perspective so heavily clouded by what you want to see. A cancer, a manifestation rotting away at the values of the New Breed division. I’ll turn away those clouds, Andre.
Show you where you truly stand.
In the last however many days and hours it's been since your first and last piece at what point did the talent you face go from “Dynasty’s best” to simply “most exciting young talent”? I wouldn’t call Korey Gaines, who has been around this company for over a year now and achieved nothing, as exciting or young. In my undeserved rise to contendership I faced a previous contender to Justin’s reign and defeated him, would that - at the time - deem him to be an exciting and young prospect? Or is that term only exclusive to those you’ve defeated? It should be universal, no? But how could someone I care little to even remember his name be such an exciting young prospect when he left? It’s only in hindsight that we see the true value of the opponents we faced and Voltage has historically had a problem of a revolving door among new entries onto the brand; it’s quite hard to keep up with who will nip at my heels next. Sure, I’m hypocritical for minimising who you’ve defeated, I can live with that. And I’ll drag their names through the mud as often and as deep as I’ll drag your’s, I care fucking little what they have to say and their own displeasure for my criticism of their lowly status and insignificant existence on Dynasty. I’m not flippant on my perspective. I don’t paint any lowly opponent I’ve faced before as some kind of greater force than they were in order to inflate my previous victories as more important or significant as they were and try to reposition it to save face. What ‘former World Champions’, former Champions period and veterans had the likes of Kaos and Calhoun-Astor ‘torn through’? Because usually...you know...you do those kinds of things, beat those kinds of talent, you stop facing fledglings like yourself, Andre. See how the lack of logic is building up? Kinda makes it hard to believe that they were anything special. I guess there may have been one or two victories over talent on a steep decline but context is rather important, wouldn’t you agree? Alternatively it might just be a case of a dumbass believing another dumbass. They say something and you take it on face value without trying to dig deeper on the matter; hastily spoken replies in an attempt to pull one over the other, to one up the other or achieve some kind of “gotcha” line. Is this really the kind of talent that passes off as impressive? At least the only other setback to my record in the last six months was a draw to someone who went on to become the Specialists Champion, otherwise I’ve thought so little of who I’ve faced and see them all as no different to the pittance of talent that exists beneath the main event of the Dynasty brand. Don’t be too quick in your rebuttal either, I’ve been quite open and honest about the finer details of everyone I’ve encountered thus far. Even the opponent mentioned before - ZAK SIMMONS! THAT'S HIS NAME! - wasn’t to brag or to do anything to elevate myself, merely to illustrate a point although I should expect something else that will push me closer to putting a bullet in the chamber. We can either put an end to this dinking and dunking aspect of trying to avoid the parts that ultimately unravel what it is that we’ve built up. Or, I can play the rest of this week out stepping on your heels as you navigate through this field of landmines by doing the very same thing, and mate, I’ll cause an uprising and become the most hated, loathed man among Dynasty’s mediocre by ripping the lot of you to shreds for the sole purpose of bringing everything you believe is impressive down to dust. That’s what I’ve done thus far, I haven’t reached, I haven’t stretched, I haven’t created any kind of false narratives. Of course I find all that to be the work of brain dead fucking idiots who can’t cop their flaws and constantly try to rectify and protect the perfect image they see of themselves; I’d rather not stoop to those levels of dumb cuntery, mostly to keep this more fair than anything else.
Yet perhaps the most ludicrous statement made is that I lack self belief.
Somehow, someway, the protege of Jamie O’Hara - who has grown into more traits than one would often expect - would be the one of the greatest traits he holds, self belief.
What makes you THINK that I lack belief? Because I don’t have a need to follow the cookie-cutter train of thought by spending half my time speaking about my own desires? I’m sorry that I’m not walking around calling myself an overused cliche of ‘King’ of anything of the kind. Fuck, you barely know who I am as it is so allow this to be a far more formal introduction on my behalf. I’m the prodigy realised and valued so highly that this company bent over backwards to get me back in. Ironically sculpted by others to fulfill a destiny of replacing the Ace of this company in the future, finally doing what so many others could not do and that is become the “next Jamie O’Hara”. Whether or not I’ll ever come to embrace that particular role remains to be seen yet already I begin to cast a shadow over most. I’m the one who blocks out of the sun for the likes of you, Andre, and so many others like you. Problem with your narrative that I lack any kind of confidence and self belief, that I’m always looking to convince myself of something is that I find that reassurance, that validation that I’m not just right where I should be is that I find it in my very existence without it taking up much of a thought in my mind at all. I only have to look at how I got here and contrast it to the struggles both seen in this company and those being entertained by others as part of their background, their history pre-EAW, as I said before, as it ever fucking mattered. There is no wound with that inner held security seeping out, there is no flaw of the past exploitable. Discovery...discovery...discovery...I had to leave to discover what I wanted, what I aspired to be and yet that means nothing now. Nothing, unless you seek to try and mold harden clay into something else; though if it makes you feel reassured fella, then by all means, think that it does. I’ve never had a problem dispatching below me, which is something you would have learned if you practice what you preach but I digress. And all before you, from the nobodies that I can barely remember through to even Justin himself, kept telling me how much self belief they had, how much confidence they had, how much self-belief was radiating from themselves. How little did it matter? How little did championing their perspective of themselves, of how much faith they held of their own talent go for them? A pointless endeavour where in defeat all of it was proved to be a hope they clung to thinking that if they had more heart, had more ‘passion’, more intangible qualities that bared nothing on the results they had achieved until that point, was immediately washed away. Your perspective that I lack any kind of self belief, lack confidence, lack effort stems from a departure last year; an error in my career which I’ve corrected by winning the very thing that I hold, that which you chase. I don’t care for the individual expectation, the passable grade in which that error can be left to die per opponent week to week, however the Championship acts as the gravestone to the stagnating reality that was my early career, my first chapter. Along with that? Every second guess buried with each new shovel full of dirt thrown onto that casket. You can continue to poke and prod at something that is dead, something that exists beneath the ground you walk on or you can be a filthy mongrel and dig in said dirt hoping to someday crack open that locker of personal demons. Or you can alternatively end this painful and lacklustre attempt to clutch at whatever straws you can reach in order to justify your preconceived notion that I hold doubt, that I lack confidence, that I lack belief, that I lack effort, all stemming from a six month narrative inscribed on stone. A dead body buried in silk inevitably becomes mere bones. Still, I’m curious as to what I apparently say or do that gives you any kind of reassurance to continue propagating something like it? Like, remove the dead horse you keep beating and what is Andre Walker left with in this belief he staunchly stands by with such confidence and arrogance? Pretty much nothing, right? I guess like you switched the narrative on who you faced from “Dynasty’s best” to “most exciting young talent” after pointing out how fucking flawed that was to begin with - I should prepare myself for “respectable opponents” or something next, right? - this is something you’re just going to try and pivot out from. And bravo, truly, I’m clapping over here in amazement at how seamlessly you tend to ignore being caught out for the dumb shit you say and continue twisting it until it works. By the way, that ‘talent you faced’ narrative? Yeah, I’ll speed this up and jump past the three or four more revisions we’d otherwise have if I kept entertaining it repeatedly and allowing you to keep twisting it over and over again: They fucking sucked. End of it. Don’t worry so did most people I’ve faced bar the former and current World Champions I faced so don’t open your 2020 Oxford collection and start getting all pissy about me trying to claim some higher ground over this nonsensical and irrelevant issue.
“Yes Thanos ends up losing but in this perfectly crafted version I created myself that perfectly suits my ideals, he wins”
Well god damn fellas, if I ever needed a more accurate summary of just what the fuck is wrong with everything this cunt speaks about.
Without your selective narratives, you’re left with nothing.
Overloaded on cliches, hitched to the same post as every other dog I’ve beaten to a pulp on my way to becoming Champion and will continue to beat until the very end. It’s nice that you said you were going to win a match against the irrelevant of the irrelevant and backed it, it’s nice that you said you were going to become the Number One Contender and did it, but walking around with some sense of superiority thinking you and you alone have manifested everything you’ve said in reality is a unique phenomenon exclusive to you is rather pointless. Whether or not you wish to take the cheap and easy way out of stick to this idea that my departure last year is somehow a grand undoing of whatever I say, then by all means. However, since December I’ve said two things and done them both. Said I was going to win the New Breed Championship and said I was going to follow in Jamie’s footsteps footfall by footfall but I guess only one of us can manifest their ideals into reality, correct? It’s only you who has this right, this capacity to use their words to paint spoilers of what's to come, correct? Jesus Christ this dumb cuntery. See, when you have a small sample size, it’s easy to come to whatever conclusion you see fit regardless of whether or not there’s enough to back it up. Unfortunately that’s just what every ideal you carry rests on; a limited sample size. It only takes one defeat to unsettle so many of the badges you don and what’s left? What does Andre Walker turn to if defeat occurs? Sure, you may be overflowing with confidence and self belief with the cliched mantra that defeat isn’t an option but again, Justin was the same. Other than simply beating him yourself, what makes you different? What makes your use of this mantra any different? When defeat does occur, what are you left with? I’m pretty resolved in my aspirations with this Championship though I recognise greater goals and greater opportunities exist. You however, have tied everything thus far to this Championship. When it doesn’t become your’s, suddenly your apparent mystical phenomena in being able to manifest what you say and believe into reality becomes seen as nothing more than mere coincidence. Even that dumb as shit ratio ideal becomes something you can’t lean on as much. You speak as if win/loss ratios are relevant but go on legend, go and clutch at the paint roller you’re trying to craft your Michelangelo Sistine Chapel ceiling with. All the size yet no detail. That’s the best thing about this, Andre. Nothing you’re bothering yourself with matters. Bringing up my ratio does what, deter me? Oh no, I’m gonna go cry in a corner, gonna go leave, gonna crack under dah pressure because three of my five losses were at the hands of former and current World Champions You got me Andre, like a bullet to the heart my win loss ratio where most of my losses have been against the highest form of competition this company has is just too much. There you got, you can have my title. I honestly might just do that to save myself the trouble of ever having to face someone whose metrics for judging why he’s superior is a bunch of loosely tied together points, none of which hold any weight on their own merit and using a thesaurus like he’s Johnny Ventura in between every few words. And this issue of being able to speak so much and yet provide so little substance is further compounded by this idea that I lack research because what? I don’t choose to take the cheap and easy route of finding your one loss and working that one single detail over and over again? I’m sorry that I’m not someone of your nature, where I’m clinging desperately to this one blatant fault in your record trying to stretch it as far as I can. You know why? Because it didn’t stop you from getting here, to facing me. I’m sure it was a nobody, someone that is on the bottom of every Dynasty card or perhaps someone who isn’t even here any longer, yet what did it do? Nothing. Nothing to hinder your progress. Again and this is very common throughout my words, by all means keep rallying yourself to pointless, uninspiring points that help support the narrative you’ve built but in mere days none of it’s going to fucking matter. No no. This is all simply snow building slowly on top of the mountain, all just sitting there precariously...and it’s NEXT time we face - that is, unless you take the route most New Breed Contenders have historically done and that’s chuck a sook and bail on this company after they didn’t get what they wanted - it’s the next time we face that I’ll set this avalanche off and bury you alongside the same casket of my demons beneath the weight of your own idiocy.
There’s two things you will never be, Andre.
And that’s smarter than I am, nor as more prepared than I am.
I’ve been taught this game by the very best. I’ve been trained by the best, I’ve been shown every pitfall imaginable, I’ve been shown every cliche, I’ve been shown more personality constructions than you could ever imagine yourself. When I had that rocket strapped to my back the second time I was more than prepared to avoid repeating the same fatal fall; this time, I embraced the weight that was there and embraced all that others were green, sickly with envy of. Fuck, nothing is surprising to me. I’ve come to expect every form of competition and already know the critical flaw, the weakest part of the hill they choose to die on to bring it all tumbling down and you’re simply just another case study examined and prepared for. For as much as you wish to believe yourself to be some truly unique individual, different from all those before you and different from all that I’ve been taught to expect, you still parrot the same shit as others; you ride malleable destiny like it’s a prophecy, hail yourself as an Uncrowned King as so many others do to fulfill their God complexes, reach ever so tirelessly to maintain your judgement even when it’s lined from top to bottom with more fallacies than I can even bare to entertain. Everything I do, everything I say is carefully crafted, everything I am is an impenetrable fortress unconquerable by any army nor swayed by any storm. I speak and I’m correct. I speak and I’m not flawed. I speak and I hear and I speak once again with more potency on my tongue than before. I’ll tear down everything that you believe makes you great and I’ll leave you with nothing. I’ll be a nightmare haunting you and I’ll lack the empathy in the aftermath when it all becomes too much for you to bear. I don’t aim for the chinks in the armor, I don’t seek the individual weaknesses that exist in it, I strip away the entire product, every bit of armor to reveal the frailty of your nature beneath. Yet you choose to continue to believe that there is a lack of confidence, a lack of self belief and all that just seemingly and justly adds to the grand delusion that I am a terrible Champion and a cancer to this division? Fella, I’m more confident than you will ever be, I’m more arrogant than most people who become World Champions ever become and I’ll fall back on his name and his teachings and his own path because it’s the same path I’ll walk to the very fucking top regardless, absolutely regardless of the perception. Perception is meaningless. Perception does nothing to halt progression. And it’s this, this leg up that I’ve had gifted to me, this easy pathway to the top of the New Breed division and into one of the more valued Elitists on not just this brand, but across all brands, is what will always ensure the gaping chasm that exists between us will never close; the boulder wedged on the ground stopping either side from ever meeting. I’m not a King and I don’t delude myself into thinking I’m a leader of any men who all wish to serve their own self-interests. Perhaps in most cases the title makes the man, perhaps the title would make you Andre. But on the path that I’m walking the title and the division are crafted by the right and left hands by a creator, not some pauper who followed the same meandering course the vast majority before him followed. Irregardless of it all, I’m an anomaly in the division and this world; a constructed anomaly at that but still, an anomaly nonetheless. I’ll win. And I’ll keep doing what I’ve done thus far; taking this belt to the main events of Voltage, I’ll take it into Pain For Pride and raise my match to the same standard - no, above - the mid card Championships and many others on the match. I’ll remain the top draft prospect instead of being a supplementary pick like yourself and wherever I land next season, I’ll be that brand’s top prospect. And it won’t be the title that gifted me any of this, it won’t be because I was the New Breed Champion nor the favors that I’ve had handed to me to get here, it will all be because I’m the fucking best. I’m the fucking smartest. I’m more methodical, I’m more adaptive to what gets thrown in my way. I’ll doubt you and I’ll walk through you, because this isn’t even what I was built, what I was crafted to defeat. Nah, I’m meant for something greater than facing the mere sparks that flicker in the darkness and quickly fade away and this is all just part of my rise; part of the legend being pierced together bit by bit, month by month, defense by defense, chapter by chapter. You will fall, just like Justin did. The reality of your entire worth being built upon mediocrity, the entire image of being presented as a rightful King, the saviour of this title manifested by overcoming the smallest and most incapable of obstacles, will come crashing down around you; just as I told Charlie Marr, I’ll turn the dirt in your mouth into a far more familiar taste than food itself. Maybe you can enjoy being the King of the mediocre, maybe you can find comfort and peace by raising up your next take on your prior opponents, but you all will continue to exist beneath my boot.
In the end, all that Andre Walker will be remembered for is being a footnote in someone else’s legacy.
How disappointing for an Uncrowned King