Post by DorianRhodes on Nov 28, 2020 3:41:49 GMT -5
Revolution 1
It was an expectation, a future, that had been built for him long before he’d ever been conceived or that clipping of an umbilical cord. It’s considered as a reasonable family conjecture at this point in the history of a wrestling family. Dorian Rhodes is simply a continuum that’s been built between those ropes.
There were times between the ages of fifteen and eighteen that he rebelled against the family legacy. His father whom is barely mentioned by Dorian was the owner of a small wrestling school. The Rhodes kid had involuntary begun his training at fifteen. Before that his childhood chores included a daily setting up and taking down the family ring.
Setting up that ring is ridiculous if you think about it as the family owned the building. His father demanded the daily task however as he believed that it would teach his son respect. For both the art that was crafted between those ropes and the respect for those who created that art.
The ink upon those pages of a Rev1 contract hasn’t yet dried. Dorian already has a feeling of dread within the pits of his stomach. It’s the dawn, the genesis, of his career within Revolution 1. He’s checked the roster, the history. The likelihood of him living up to those expectations? It feels like a no win situation, unfeasible.
Amelia Hearts, Morbid Dream, Taysia Lattimore, Cartier. All names within Rev1 and those names have meaning to Dorian Rhodes. He’s watched. He’s studied. He has a future beside those names or possibly he’ll just be another mark in the win column. In time he’ll know for sure if he has what it takes to complete.
It was Thanksgiving day but I made a choice to not return home for the yearly festivity in which most family’s participate. I sat on my phone scrolling twitter and checking out some unknown competitors and wrestling companies that I wasn’t acquainted with. That morning I discovered Revolution 1. I spent the better part of the day looking into the history.
I reached out to those making the decisions and with today's world of technology I became a member of that locker room a little after midnight. Now. I sit here in front of you recording my unveiling of sorts via video chat from my living room.
This wasn’t a thing in when my father was in the business.
I realize that I have a lot to prove to those that sent me that contract. A lot to prove to those within the confines of that locker room. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done between those ropes in any other company. If you’re an unknown then those expectations, just like my fathers, are substantial.
With those expectations come the thoughts of how am I going to prove myself. Did I really deserve that contract and this opportunity? That’s not an easy question and it’s not going to be an easy answer.
It’s a question and answer that will take both time and dedication on my part to play out. The beginning of which starts at an open battle royal on Tuesday’s sin.
Those who will enter the battle royal are unknown to both me and the fans. I’ve thrown my name into that list of locker room representatives.
It’s a struggle of enormous odds. Odds against showing I’m competent or resourceful enough to compete. Much less actually have a chance to win this thing.
The mere thought of actually being triumphant is appareling without doubt. It’s something that would endear me to those fans sitting in the audience and to those watching from home. That’s why we’re in this business after all, right? Because someone between those ropes captured our hearts. Seized our imaginations and hopes that someday we could be just like them.
I could possibly become a laughing stock during that match. That bell could ring and within moments I could be the first eliminated. Tossed over the top rope and thrown to the floor below.
In that moment walking to the backstage area with those fans watching. Those left in the ring knowing that the rook was the first eliminated within seconds. That moment would be nearly impossible to recover from, for anyone, much less the new guy.
I can’t guarantee victory to those of you watching this. I can promise though that I will do everything within my power to at least be competitive.
On the November seventeenth edition of Tuesday Night Sin we watched Pasha win a battle royal. Outlasting the other competitors for that elusive victory.
Cartier got a huge victory the following week on the November twenty fourth edition.
Dorian stops speaking as a clip from November of twenty nineteen begins to play.
Trey: And just like that, every available referee for tonight's Main Event has been left in a heap, cowering in the shower, or too drunk to work...
We see Graham look around, stop as he fixates on something. Evil intent clear in his grin, he walks over somewhere and snags something before he hurries out of the room.
Trey: What did he grab?!
I made sure to watch some of the history. See for myself what I was getting myself into. I came across this from a year ago. This shows that anything in Revolution 1 can happen on any given night.
One thing I’ve noticed in this business is that a rebellion needed to happen. That somebody needed to head a mutiny, a radical change, against the establishment.
Revolution 1 was leading that rebellion for those fans, those in the locker room, into a better tomorrow for industry.
This moment in which I had replayed it’s something that isn’t supposed to happen but it did.
Maybe a protagonist with the ambition to lead needs to reset Revolution 1. It may not be me but I’m gonna bring that to light. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be...
Revolution 1 welcome to ‘The Promethean’.
I am Dorian Rhodes.
It was an expectation, a future, that had been built for him long before he’d ever been conceived or that clipping of an umbilical cord. It’s considered as a reasonable family conjecture at this point in the history of a wrestling family. Dorian Rhodes is simply a continuum that’s been built between those ropes.
There were times between the ages of fifteen and eighteen that he rebelled against the family legacy. His father whom is barely mentioned by Dorian was the owner of a small wrestling school. The Rhodes kid had involuntary begun his training at fifteen. Before that his childhood chores included a daily setting up and taking down the family ring.
Setting up that ring is ridiculous if you think about it as the family owned the building. His father demanded the daily task however as he believed that it would teach his son respect. For both the art that was crafted between those ropes and the respect for those who created that art.
The ink upon those pages of a Rev1 contract hasn’t yet dried. Dorian already has a feeling of dread within the pits of his stomach. It’s the dawn, the genesis, of his career within Revolution 1. He’s checked the roster, the history. The likelihood of him living up to those expectations? It feels like a no win situation, unfeasible.
Amelia Hearts, Morbid Dream, Taysia Lattimore, Cartier. All names within Rev1 and those names have meaning to Dorian Rhodes. He’s watched. He’s studied. He has a future beside those names or possibly he’ll just be another mark in the win column. In time he’ll know for sure if he has what it takes to complete.
It was Thanksgiving day but I made a choice to not return home for the yearly festivity in which most family’s participate. I sat on my phone scrolling twitter and checking out some unknown competitors and wrestling companies that I wasn’t acquainted with. That morning I discovered Revolution 1. I spent the better part of the day looking into the history.
I reached out to those making the decisions and with today's world of technology I became a member of that locker room a little after midnight. Now. I sit here in front of you recording my unveiling of sorts via video chat from my living room.
This wasn’t a thing in when my father was in the business.
I realize that I have a lot to prove to those that sent me that contract. A lot to prove to those within the confines of that locker room. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done between those ropes in any other company. If you’re an unknown then those expectations, just like my fathers, are substantial.
With those expectations come the thoughts of how am I going to prove myself. Did I really deserve that contract and this opportunity? That’s not an easy question and it’s not going to be an easy answer.
It’s a question and answer that will take both time and dedication on my part to play out. The beginning of which starts at an open battle royal on Tuesday’s sin.
Those who will enter the battle royal are unknown to both me and the fans. I’ve thrown my name into that list of locker room representatives.
It’s a struggle of enormous odds. Odds against showing I’m competent or resourceful enough to compete. Much less actually have a chance to win this thing.
The mere thought of actually being triumphant is appareling without doubt. It’s something that would endear me to those fans sitting in the audience and to those watching from home. That’s why we’re in this business after all, right? Because someone between those ropes captured our hearts. Seized our imaginations and hopes that someday we could be just like them.
I could possibly become a laughing stock during that match. That bell could ring and within moments I could be the first eliminated. Tossed over the top rope and thrown to the floor below.
In that moment walking to the backstage area with those fans watching. Those left in the ring knowing that the rook was the first eliminated within seconds. That moment would be nearly impossible to recover from, for anyone, much less the new guy.
I can’t guarantee victory to those of you watching this. I can promise though that I will do everything within my power to at least be competitive.
On the November seventeenth edition of Tuesday Night Sin we watched Pasha win a battle royal. Outlasting the other competitors for that elusive victory.
Cartier got a huge victory the following week on the November twenty fourth edition.
Dorian stops speaking as a clip from November of twenty nineteen begins to play.
Trey: And just like that, every available referee for tonight's Main Event has been left in a heap, cowering in the shower, or too drunk to work...
We see Graham look around, stop as he fixates on something. Evil intent clear in his grin, he walks over somewhere and snags something before he hurries out of the room.
Trey: What did he grab?!
I made sure to watch some of the history. See for myself what I was getting myself into. I came across this from a year ago. This shows that anything in Revolution 1 can happen on any given night.
One thing I’ve noticed in this business is that a rebellion needed to happen. That somebody needed to head a mutiny, a radical change, against the establishment.
Revolution 1 was leading that rebellion for those fans, those in the locker room, into a better tomorrow for industry.
This moment in which I had replayed it’s something that isn’t supposed to happen but it did.
Maybe a protagonist with the ambition to lead needs to reset Revolution 1. It may not be me but I’m gonna bring that to light. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be...
Revolution 1 welcome to ‘The Promethean’.
I am Dorian Rhodes.