Post by Drew Stevenson on Jul 14, 2017 16:30:17 GMT -6
Ding!
Reaching over on the sofa, Stevenson grabs his iPhone and turns it around so he can view the screen. Upon turning it on, he sees that he has a text from his longtime friend, Mark Robertson.
“What in the hell happened? My phone EXPLODED with this EWC stuff.”
Shaking his head while rolling his eyes, he begins to text back, filling Mark in on everything.
“You know how it goes, there's always that one person who doesn't understand how this business works so instead of promoting the match, which had so much potential, what does he do? He goes out of his way to shit on everything. It's not every day where someone who has no experience and as far as I know, no victories under his belt tries to act the way he did but I tell you Mark; it's going to be his downfall, I don't see this kid lasting very long unless he shapes up and FAST!”
Stevenson waits as Mark is typing his response.
“Ah so one of those types? Yeah, the biggest problem with this new crop of kids coming in is that they don't have any knowledge about the sport. They treat it like a joke, they come in for the paycheck and have no respect for tradition, the roots, you know, all of the sacrifices that those before them have made.”
“I couldn't have said it better myself. You know me, I am really passionate about this sport and I didn't bust my ass for the last eleven years just for some punk kid and his clown friend to come in, crap on everything and then laugh about it.”
“Well unfortunately there's really nothing you can do about it. As we both know and have discussed many times, the sport has changed. I think a part of it is because you are very old-school minded, you know how the business works, you were taught that by your grandfather, your uncle and even your mentor, Greg Mitchell and you know as well as I do that Greg would have put your balls in a vice had you acted like some of these kids.”
Chuckling, he knows it's true.
“Do I ever! But you know what? I appreciate the fact that he took it so hard on me because it made me who I am today and I don't care what these punk kids think because we both know that a year from now? They won't be here anymore, they will be flipping burgers or competing for some backyard promotion. What they don't seem to understand is that this business takes substance, it takes knowledge and if you don't have that: you might as well kiss your career goodbye because when you're exposed? The people don't forget that and that's what's going to happen this week, Erik is going to be exposed and the only person he has to blame is himself.”
“Exactly man! At the end of the day? He won't even be a footnote in this industry unless he learns how to promote. But like we have talked about before, many people in our business don't understand the true art of how to promote. It's really sad that some of these kids manage to make it but unfortunately, like I said, the times have changed but do me a small favor…”
“... Sure, what's up?”
“Don't stoop to their level. You know as well as I do that that wouldn't solve anything and it would make you look worse for doing so. See, you don't technically have to prove anything because these punk kids? They will NEVER amount to the success you have had and I think they're jealous of that. Most people can barely say that they have managed to be inducted into one Hall of Fame, let alone six so let them do their thing, let them say whatever because at the end of the day? You got this and there's no way some punk kid and his Juggalo friend can destroy your reputation.”
“Oh trust me, I’m not worried about that. I just don't like the burial style, which you already know but like I said: it really doesn't matter because these kids won't last long anyway and even if they somehow stay around longer than I predicted, there's no way they will amount to anything with that kind of attitude.”
“That is precisely my point! But anyway my friend, I am getting ready to eat dinner with the family and will message you back later.”
“Sounds good man and send my love.”
“Will do!”
And with their conversation finished, Stevenson tosses his iPhone down onto the couch, right next to him as he then unpauses his game.
Reaching over on the sofa, Stevenson grabs his iPhone and turns it around so he can view the screen. Upon turning it on, he sees that he has a text from his longtime friend, Mark Robertson.
“What in the hell happened? My phone EXPLODED with this EWC stuff.”
Shaking his head while rolling his eyes, he begins to text back, filling Mark in on everything.
“You know how it goes, there's always that one person who doesn't understand how this business works so instead of promoting the match, which had so much potential, what does he do? He goes out of his way to shit on everything. It's not every day where someone who has no experience and as far as I know, no victories under his belt tries to act the way he did but I tell you Mark; it's going to be his downfall, I don't see this kid lasting very long unless he shapes up and FAST!”
Stevenson waits as Mark is typing his response.
“Ah so one of those types? Yeah, the biggest problem with this new crop of kids coming in is that they don't have any knowledge about the sport. They treat it like a joke, they come in for the paycheck and have no respect for tradition, the roots, you know, all of the sacrifices that those before them have made.”
“I couldn't have said it better myself. You know me, I am really passionate about this sport and I didn't bust my ass for the last eleven years just for some punk kid and his clown friend to come in, crap on everything and then laugh about it.”
“Well unfortunately there's really nothing you can do about it. As we both know and have discussed many times, the sport has changed. I think a part of it is because you are very old-school minded, you know how the business works, you were taught that by your grandfather, your uncle and even your mentor, Greg Mitchell and you know as well as I do that Greg would have put your balls in a vice had you acted like some of these kids.”
Chuckling, he knows it's true.
“Do I ever! But you know what? I appreciate the fact that he took it so hard on me because it made me who I am today and I don't care what these punk kids think because we both know that a year from now? They won't be here anymore, they will be flipping burgers or competing for some backyard promotion. What they don't seem to understand is that this business takes substance, it takes knowledge and if you don't have that: you might as well kiss your career goodbye because when you're exposed? The people don't forget that and that's what's going to happen this week, Erik is going to be exposed and the only person he has to blame is himself.”
“Exactly man! At the end of the day? He won't even be a footnote in this industry unless he learns how to promote. But like we have talked about before, many people in our business don't understand the true art of how to promote. It's really sad that some of these kids manage to make it but unfortunately, like I said, the times have changed but do me a small favor…”
“... Sure, what's up?”
“Don't stoop to their level. You know as well as I do that that wouldn't solve anything and it would make you look worse for doing so. See, you don't technically have to prove anything because these punk kids? They will NEVER amount to the success you have had and I think they're jealous of that. Most people can barely say that they have managed to be inducted into one Hall of Fame, let alone six so let them do their thing, let them say whatever because at the end of the day? You got this and there's no way some punk kid and his Juggalo friend can destroy your reputation.”
“Oh trust me, I’m not worried about that. I just don't like the burial style, which you already know but like I said: it really doesn't matter because these kids won't last long anyway and even if they somehow stay around longer than I predicted, there's no way they will amount to anything with that kind of attitude.”
“That is precisely my point! But anyway my friend, I am getting ready to eat dinner with the family and will message you back later.”
“Sounds good man and send my love.”
“Will do!”
And with their conversation finished, Stevenson tosses his iPhone down onto the couch, right next to him as he then unpauses his game.
