They say heavy is the head that wears a crown. That it's hard to be the ruler, the main man on the roster, the king. I always used to think that that was just some damn excuse, something that the weak say because they couldn't hold it down. Because they weren't worthy of it, didn't deserve it, or just weren't ready for the responsibility that came with all of that power. I used to think that all the lights, fame and fortune consumed them, luring them into a false sense of peacefulness, happiness, just before the lights become too bright and eventually, they have to close their eyes against the harshness of the glare.
They say that heavy is the head that wears the crown, and I always used to think that it was just some damn excuse. Something that was said by people who couldn't handle the responsibility, the authority, the power. The Crown, the gold is sometimes way too much for some people to handle. That's usually the time that they snap.
They say heavy is the head that wears the crown. I never believed that excuse before. Never. Not when Jimmy and Jay told me of the responsibilities required of them from being tag team champions. Not when Dwyane told me of the tolls that it took on your life, both physically and emotionally, hell even mentally. And I sure as hell didn't believe it when my father told me how difficult it was to leave us and go on tour for months on end.
I never believed one of those shitty, half-assed excuses. Not once. Because to me, that's all that they were. Excuses. Stories told to make yourself feel better for not accomplishing your goals. But now that I wear it, I know that shit to be true.
Lights. There were lights. Lights of different shapes and sizes, different colours and types of brightness. Lights that engulfed the entire stadium, leaving it in shock and awe. Lights that bounced and reflected off of walls and windows, off of plastic beer cups and several title replicas. Lights that surrounded the ring, highlighting our imposing figures that were facing off. Lights that would guide one of us home, it's just that whether we left empty handed or not that was up to us. The lights lead us here, they paved our ways from the very beginning, leading us, protecting us and ultimately, gifting us with a chance to enter the kingdom. And right now, lights highlighted our bodies as we took place in an epic, age old dance known as a battle.
It was brutal, every hit I took felt like some kind of punishment from him, like his form of showing me that I didn't belong in the ring with him, like he was trying to prove a point through beating me senseless to show me that I did not deserve to have this chance, this opportunity at his title. Every shot was delivered with pure malace. He intended to break me, to make an example out of me just so that he could prove to the world why he was called 'The Beast'.
He expected a massacre. For me to just lay there and take a beating for as long as he pleased until he got bored. Then he would pin me and leave with another victory under his belt. He was looking for an easy win.
But he wasn't expecting a fight. That's for damn sure.
He seemed surprised that after every hit he threw, every kick he delivered and every single suplex he performed that I just somehow managed to kick out, to break the pin, and to get back up again. But I think that after the eighth time that I kicked out of one of his attempted pin falls, which was executed after yet another devastating suplex, the surprise slowly began to fade away and was quite quickly replaced by anger. Pure unadulterated anger that almost seemed to radiate from his monstrous form in massive waves, and the fact that he kept pacing around, screaming obnoxiously cruel curses at the offocial only added to that factor.
It was hilarious really, seeing the 'Beast' pacing up and down after the referee, screaming in that ridiculously hilarious and nasally, high pitched voice of his that always surprised me whenever he opened his mouth, while Hayman screamed his head off from outside of the ring. Telling Brock to keep his cool and return his attention to me, to focus on the match and pick up the victory.
