Post by freak on Jul 18, 2010 2:32:44 GMT -6
We now return to Jack Clinton in the undisclosed location.
I think the problem that's plagued every single competitor in the Texas Championship elimination match is a strong and severe case of diarrhea of the mouth. Maybe we weren't trying to put things certain ways, maybe we were looking in different directions. But somehow, someway, we've gotten to a point where pointed words are pissing people off. And Chris Angel hasn't said anything yet. Our Texas Champion is still looking for his tongue and words to say. Maybe we can consider that taking the high road. After all, silence is apparently strength because no one can say anything without offending someone else.
Of course, in the case of Danny the Sam Adams Drinker Palis, it doesn't take much for him to offend people. Hell, it really doesn't take much for him to get offended either. Just bring up the embarrassing loss he suffered at the hands of Mike LaFontaine and you have instant eruption. The problem that ol' Danny doesn't seem to realize is that when you lose to one of those Mike LaFontaine style people, it's a loss that just doesn't go away. It's like Terry Taylor's Red Rooster gimmick. It becomes part of you and no matter how angry you get or how often you shove your foot in your mouth, it stays there.
What ol' Danny doesn't seem to realize is that there's a reason why no one takes him seriously in this match...he hasn't done enough one way or the other to make us believe he's a threat. Hell, I'd much rather have seen them put someone else in there with me, Vince, and Angel- someone who is deserving. Worthy. Not someone you just throw in there because the people running the venue want you to put on the match you advertised. That's all Danny Palis is. An add-on. A piece of meat. Soon to be dead meat. Yes, I know what I just said. It's the unfortunate truth.
But forget about the Sapporo Rum & Coke for a second. There have been reasons why I've tried to let Versus Vince know that he may be in a little more over his head than he realizes. I don't fault him for wanting to form alliances, to be friends with people, and what not. There is never anything wrong with that. But see, this is where I have a problem with that. This is the kind of match where it really does need to be every man for himself. And no matter how many hot women you trot out to the ring, no matter how good a friendship you think you have with someone may be, when the big prize is on the line, it all goes out the window. And it's not my ego talking. It's just a simple fact of life.
Let me tell you all something right quick. If you honestly believed that I had no chance to win the Balance of Power match- if none of you thought that I was going to come down from the scaffold with the briefcase in my hands...let me tell you, you really haven't been paying attention to the kind of person Jack Clinton is and the kind of wrestler Jack Clinton's been throughout his entire career. I've been in the biggest matches you have ever seen. I've been in bigger arenas, in larger stadiums, and I've headlined most, if not all, of them. It doesn't get me as starstruck as it's obviously gotten some of you. The facts were that, at Wrestlestock, I was the bigger man. I was the better man. And all of you ignored it, and look where it got you.
The point is this. I don't have a problem taking three other people on. I don't. Because it isn't going to matter. One by one, you're going to fall. Whether I eliminate all three of you by myself, or whether I only get one pin in the match, it doesn't matter. I'm gonna be the man who walks away as the Texas Heavyweight Champion. I've been saying it for over a year. The destiny is for me to be the top dog in this company. If you haven't heard that, then you either haven't been listening or are just plain ignorant. Neither of those are my problem.
You can look at me however you choose to see fit. If you want to be a hero, then you're more than welcome to try that against me. I have no problem and no qualms with making you a long-term resident of Parkland Hospital. It isn't gonna stop me from doing what I have to do to become the champion. Nor should it stop any of you. Because, as I said, friendships and alliances have to go out the window. There's the top prize in the company to be had here. You can't go soft now because you want to keep up appearances.
What matters is this: whatever happens, it's going to change the lives of everyone involved. From the up and comer Versus Vince to the alcholic Danny Palis to the desperate champion Chris Angel to me. A young gun, two wily veterans, and a 39-year old wobbler, and something is going to have to give. Something big. Something bad. People are gonna get hurt. People are gonna bleed. There's gonna be a lot of harm done and we're going to ache in places we never knew we had before. And from all that pain, from all the blood we lose, one of us will rise and claim that Texas Championship.
Only one...and you're looking at him right now.
FTB.
I think the problem that's plagued every single competitor in the Texas Championship elimination match is a strong and severe case of diarrhea of the mouth. Maybe we weren't trying to put things certain ways, maybe we were looking in different directions. But somehow, someway, we've gotten to a point where pointed words are pissing people off. And Chris Angel hasn't said anything yet. Our Texas Champion is still looking for his tongue and words to say. Maybe we can consider that taking the high road. After all, silence is apparently strength because no one can say anything without offending someone else.
Of course, in the case of Danny the Sam Adams Drinker Palis, it doesn't take much for him to offend people. Hell, it really doesn't take much for him to get offended either. Just bring up the embarrassing loss he suffered at the hands of Mike LaFontaine and you have instant eruption. The problem that ol' Danny doesn't seem to realize is that when you lose to one of those Mike LaFontaine style people, it's a loss that just doesn't go away. It's like Terry Taylor's Red Rooster gimmick. It becomes part of you and no matter how angry you get or how often you shove your foot in your mouth, it stays there.
What ol' Danny doesn't seem to realize is that there's a reason why no one takes him seriously in this match...he hasn't done enough one way or the other to make us believe he's a threat. Hell, I'd much rather have seen them put someone else in there with me, Vince, and Angel- someone who is deserving. Worthy. Not someone you just throw in there because the people running the venue want you to put on the match you advertised. That's all Danny Palis is. An add-on. A piece of meat. Soon to be dead meat. Yes, I know what I just said. It's the unfortunate truth.
But forget about the Sapporo Rum & Coke for a second. There have been reasons why I've tried to let Versus Vince know that he may be in a little more over his head than he realizes. I don't fault him for wanting to form alliances, to be friends with people, and what not. There is never anything wrong with that. But see, this is where I have a problem with that. This is the kind of match where it really does need to be every man for himself. And no matter how many hot women you trot out to the ring, no matter how good a friendship you think you have with someone may be, when the big prize is on the line, it all goes out the window. And it's not my ego talking. It's just a simple fact of life.
Let me tell you all something right quick. If you honestly believed that I had no chance to win the Balance of Power match- if none of you thought that I was going to come down from the scaffold with the briefcase in my hands...let me tell you, you really haven't been paying attention to the kind of person Jack Clinton is and the kind of wrestler Jack Clinton's been throughout his entire career. I've been in the biggest matches you have ever seen. I've been in bigger arenas, in larger stadiums, and I've headlined most, if not all, of them. It doesn't get me as starstruck as it's obviously gotten some of you. The facts were that, at Wrestlestock, I was the bigger man. I was the better man. And all of you ignored it, and look where it got you.
The point is this. I don't have a problem taking three other people on. I don't. Because it isn't going to matter. One by one, you're going to fall. Whether I eliminate all three of you by myself, or whether I only get one pin in the match, it doesn't matter. I'm gonna be the man who walks away as the Texas Heavyweight Champion. I've been saying it for over a year. The destiny is for me to be the top dog in this company. If you haven't heard that, then you either haven't been listening or are just plain ignorant. Neither of those are my problem.
You can look at me however you choose to see fit. If you want to be a hero, then you're more than welcome to try that against me. I have no problem and no qualms with making you a long-term resident of Parkland Hospital. It isn't gonna stop me from doing what I have to do to become the champion. Nor should it stop any of you. Because, as I said, friendships and alliances have to go out the window. There's the top prize in the company to be had here. You can't go soft now because you want to keep up appearances.
What matters is this: whatever happens, it's going to change the lives of everyone involved. From the up and comer Versus Vince to the alcholic Danny Palis to the desperate champion Chris Angel to me. A young gun, two wily veterans, and a 39-year old wobbler, and something is going to have to give. Something big. Something bad. People are gonna get hurt. People are gonna bleed. There's gonna be a lot of harm done and we're going to ache in places we never knew we had before. And from all that pain, from all the blood we lose, one of us will rise and claim that Texas Championship.
Only one...and you're looking at him right now.
FTB.
