Post by John "Sheriff" McBride on Nov 16, 2012 8:55:26 GMT -4
1964 rolled at a speed all its own. From the apocalyptic scale of rock n rolls British invasion that introduced the Beatles to America, all the way Muhammad Ali beating Sonny Liston for the Heavyweight Title. Moments in time that would echo in the annals of history, moments that would change the world. But 1964 saw something else, something time did not stop for, something few were privy to. Birthed, spanked on the ass and handed to his mother was none other than John McBride.
Things were a little slower in Seminole, a small town seeded in the Texas frontier mindset. Children in small west Texas towns were raised with fear of their fathers and the love of their mothers, this was the way of their world. As time went by these children would grow into their skin, holding to the fear and love but relying on it less and less. John was given a sturdy sense of self-assurance that was coupled with humility. With these virtues branded on his ass and unwavering potential guiding his ambition, John was destined for things much bigger than Seminole could provide. It is with that understand that allows us to leap forward in time, giving us a better understand of the man we are looking at, a man that stares right back at us.
His brow weighed down upon his dark hollow eyes. Trenches of time stretched across his face like avenues of experience and wisdom. John McBride was handsome, if you liked the old masculine sort, but his voice is his most commanding feature. Heavy and dusty, he spoke with a terse and unapologetic nature. Yet there was a tenderness about him, a grandfatherly quality that was hidden by his physical capabilities. When he spoke, you couldn’t help but listen.
I’ve come to understand that wrestlin’ is, well...it’s hard. But not fir tha same reasons any other profession is hard. Yur average individual faces a tribunal of expectations and policies that are predetermined and readily available fir study. Their ability to get the job done is solely dependant on how knowledgeable they are of existin’ information. Wrestlin’, as with most combat sports, is a game of chess in most cases. Rarely is what you already know enough to getcha through tha day. In my experience, every match I ever won was determined by my ability to react in a single moment, to do somethin’ unexpected, either confusing my opponent or simply findin’ a way to climb tha mountain faster than he...or she.
We pan out just enough to see the rugged confederate hat upon his head.
Tha dynamics of this sport is often overlooked by modern combat enthusiasts. With wrestlin’ bein' entrenched in tha dramatic arts of conversation and trash-talk, it’s hard to tell who talks tha talk and who walks tha walk. But when you get down to tha nitty gritty of it all, it ain’t any different than tha rest of tha combat sports those pugilist connoisseurs go on about. At tha end of tha day there’s a winner and a loser. I’ve come to understand that the future of this sport is often found in tha realm of wrestlers that wallow in defeat. A broken bone heals twice as strong.
Ya might be askin’ yerself why I’m goin’ on about winnin’ and fightin’ and broken bones. Well, I couldn’t put a finger on a better way to explain why I’m not concerned with what little I know of my opponents this week. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure these boys are scrappy young men with a bright future ahead of em’, and I’m sure this won’t be tha last time we hafta meet under these circumstances. So instead of give you folks some long drawn out expl-i-nation to how I am better than these fellas, I figured I’d take tha time to tell you why I have little fear of what I don’t know.
Where does McBride’s couth come from, some might ask, most will dismiss me as an old man well beyond his years; a fistfull of knuckles to tha face usually cures tha soul of doubt in those cases. But to answer tha question... well...I guess I can attest to tha quality of trainin' I received in tha Marines, maybe even credit my stint in Panama in 89’. But I think tha credit for this hard target mindset I possess comes from one simple truth, a truth that has defined me since birth. I do not give excuses and accept none as expl-i-nation.
Losin’ is a part of winnin’. I believe General Patton said it best “I don't measure a man's success by how high he climbs but how high he bounces when he hits bottom.” Words to live by folks. Words I live by. Every passin' moment is a chance to succeed or a chance to fall smack down on yur face. So I treat every passin' moment with tha same patience and importance as tha previous one. It’s allowed me to succeed in a young mans sport for quite some time, and I ain’t through yet.
Revealing that he has been seated, he rises and steps away from us. Before us is a wrestling ring, he’d been sitting on the entrance steps the entire time. Bleached gym walls provide layers in the distance, the gym is large, but our focus remains on John.[/i]
Glacier, Jimmy, I’m sure you boys are just as excited as I am. Tha complications of a three way match are about as tricky as ridin’ a horse with no reins, but I’m up for tha challenge. ‘Bout tha only thing I know of you two is that one of ya’s lightweight and fast and tha others big and strong. I know I could probly hire some kid to find out more on you fellas but quite honestly, technology gives me a headache. I’ll get all I need to know come Monday evenin’. I hope ya don’t take my candor too personally in regards to how little I know about'cha, I just don’t feel it’s all that necessary in terms of preparation.
Hell, I’ve got more hours in tha gym and in tha ring than most men in tha APW, doesn’t mean I’m better on any given day. Besides, I like tha surprise of what I don’t know. Tha vagrant stares and hungry shakes a person gets and gives in tha ring is enough to keep this old mans blood pumpin’. It’s tha fight that I love, not tha preparation. I’d just assume sit on my ass and watch Bonanza or dove hunt than go prepare for a wrestlin’ match. Sure it benefits me, ats’ why trainin’ is a big part of my life. Doesn’t change tha fact that tha moment of impact is what I look forward to tha most.
McBride pauses a moment and looks down at the floor. He cocks his head a bit and looks back at us with an enthusiasm we haven't seen yet. [/i]
Impact...tha clamorin' crowds roarin' yur name and cheerin' for yur success. Tha feel of tha ring beneath your feet and tha ropes against yur back. How time seems to slow as we anticipate tha bell. Tha face down, tha lock-up, tha first splatter of blood. It would be a fair thing to say that I love this more than life itself.
I wish you boys all tha best on Monday, but I do expect to win. But don’t worry, I plan to earn it, as I’ve earned all my wins. Prepare however you like, show up, bring ur best, all that good stuff. And come Monday, we’ll start tha show off with a bang. They won’t know what hit em’ boys...but you sure will.
He gives a wink as our scene fades to black. [/i]
Things were a little slower in Seminole, a small town seeded in the Texas frontier mindset. Children in small west Texas towns were raised with fear of their fathers and the love of their mothers, this was the way of their world. As time went by these children would grow into their skin, holding to the fear and love but relying on it less and less. John was given a sturdy sense of self-assurance that was coupled with humility. With these virtues branded on his ass and unwavering potential guiding his ambition, John was destined for things much bigger than Seminole could provide. It is with that understand that allows us to leap forward in time, giving us a better understand of the man we are looking at, a man that stares right back at us.
His brow weighed down upon his dark hollow eyes. Trenches of time stretched across his face like avenues of experience and wisdom. John McBride was handsome, if you liked the old masculine sort, but his voice is his most commanding feature. Heavy and dusty, he spoke with a terse and unapologetic nature. Yet there was a tenderness about him, a grandfatherly quality that was hidden by his physical capabilities. When he spoke, you couldn’t help but listen.
I’ve come to understand that wrestlin’ is, well...it’s hard. But not fir tha same reasons any other profession is hard. Yur average individual faces a tribunal of expectations and policies that are predetermined and readily available fir study. Their ability to get the job done is solely dependant on how knowledgeable they are of existin’ information. Wrestlin’, as with most combat sports, is a game of chess in most cases. Rarely is what you already know enough to getcha through tha day. In my experience, every match I ever won was determined by my ability to react in a single moment, to do somethin’ unexpected, either confusing my opponent or simply findin’ a way to climb tha mountain faster than he...or she.
We pan out just enough to see the rugged confederate hat upon his head.
Tha dynamics of this sport is often overlooked by modern combat enthusiasts. With wrestlin’ bein' entrenched in tha dramatic arts of conversation and trash-talk, it’s hard to tell who talks tha talk and who walks tha walk. But when you get down to tha nitty gritty of it all, it ain’t any different than tha rest of tha combat sports those pugilist connoisseurs go on about. At tha end of tha day there’s a winner and a loser. I’ve come to understand that the future of this sport is often found in tha realm of wrestlers that wallow in defeat. A broken bone heals twice as strong.
Ya might be askin’ yerself why I’m goin’ on about winnin’ and fightin’ and broken bones. Well, I couldn’t put a finger on a better way to explain why I’m not concerned with what little I know of my opponents this week. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure these boys are scrappy young men with a bright future ahead of em’, and I’m sure this won’t be tha last time we hafta meet under these circumstances. So instead of give you folks some long drawn out expl-i-nation to how I am better than these fellas, I figured I’d take tha time to tell you why I have little fear of what I don’t know.
Where does McBride’s couth come from, some might ask, most will dismiss me as an old man well beyond his years; a fistfull of knuckles to tha face usually cures tha soul of doubt in those cases. But to answer tha question... well...I guess I can attest to tha quality of trainin' I received in tha Marines, maybe even credit my stint in Panama in 89’. But I think tha credit for this hard target mindset I possess comes from one simple truth, a truth that has defined me since birth. I do not give excuses and accept none as expl-i-nation.
Losin’ is a part of winnin’. I believe General Patton said it best “I don't measure a man's success by how high he climbs but how high he bounces when he hits bottom.” Words to live by folks. Words I live by. Every passin' moment is a chance to succeed or a chance to fall smack down on yur face. So I treat every passin' moment with tha same patience and importance as tha previous one. It’s allowed me to succeed in a young mans sport for quite some time, and I ain’t through yet.
Revealing that he has been seated, he rises and steps away from us. Before us is a wrestling ring, he’d been sitting on the entrance steps the entire time. Bleached gym walls provide layers in the distance, the gym is large, but our focus remains on John.[/i]
Glacier, Jimmy, I’m sure you boys are just as excited as I am. Tha complications of a three way match are about as tricky as ridin’ a horse with no reins, but I’m up for tha challenge. ‘Bout tha only thing I know of you two is that one of ya’s lightweight and fast and tha others big and strong. I know I could probly hire some kid to find out more on you fellas but quite honestly, technology gives me a headache. I’ll get all I need to know come Monday evenin’. I hope ya don’t take my candor too personally in regards to how little I know about'cha, I just don’t feel it’s all that necessary in terms of preparation.
Hell, I’ve got more hours in tha gym and in tha ring than most men in tha APW, doesn’t mean I’m better on any given day. Besides, I like tha surprise of what I don’t know. Tha vagrant stares and hungry shakes a person gets and gives in tha ring is enough to keep this old mans blood pumpin’. It’s tha fight that I love, not tha preparation. I’d just assume sit on my ass and watch Bonanza or dove hunt than go prepare for a wrestlin’ match. Sure it benefits me, ats’ why trainin’ is a big part of my life. Doesn’t change tha fact that tha moment of impact is what I look forward to tha most.
McBride pauses a moment and looks down at the floor. He cocks his head a bit and looks back at us with an enthusiasm we haven't seen yet. [/i]
Impact...tha clamorin' crowds roarin' yur name and cheerin' for yur success. Tha feel of tha ring beneath your feet and tha ropes against yur back. How time seems to slow as we anticipate tha bell. Tha face down, tha lock-up, tha first splatter of blood. It would be a fair thing to say that I love this more than life itself.
I wish you boys all tha best on Monday, but I do expect to win. But don’t worry, I plan to earn it, as I’ve earned all my wins. Prepare however you like, show up, bring ur best, all that good stuff. And come Monday, we’ll start tha show off with a bang. They won’t know what hit em’ boys...but you sure will.
He gives a wink as our scene fades to black. [/i]
