Guest Powerplay Report post Posted November 28, 2002 Carry On My Wayward Son By Kansas Once I rose above the noise and confusion Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion I was soaring ever higher But I flew too high… …“CONVOY DID IT! HE HIT THE DIESEL STUNNER! HEARFORD DOESN’T HAVE A CHANCE NOW!” Hearford lays, motionless on his back as Convoy hooks the Champ’s leg and rolls onto his stomach. William’s eyes flutter a little as the crowd chants the count… “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREE!” Joe Louis Arena explodes as Convoy pushes off the battered body of William Hearford III to a thunderous cheer, and the ref hands the massive man the Title. On the ground, the old veteran rolls over and watches as the people celebrate his worst enemy’s victory, wondering what he did wrong. The new champ hoists the belt high into the air, and Hearford curls up onto his knees, and tears begin to stream down his face. How could they betray me like this, he thinks as the salty liquid flows down his cheeks, after all I’ve done how could they do this to me? He slams his fist against the mat and hides his face under his arm, filled with shame, sadness, and anger… …Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man Though my mind could think I still was a mad man I can hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say… …He slams his fist into the locker over and over again, almost numb to the pain. The man has so much in only a week: His Judgeship, his friends, his integrity, his Title and his fans. His fans… those were the last thing that he had, perhaps the only thing he counted on as a shinning beacon through this giant mistake of his. They were the closest thing he’d had to a family with all the work he had done. But now… now he had nothing. They hadn’t just left him, though, but instead jump to the aid of his greatest rival when he NEEDED them the most. Hearford rips the deeply dented locker door right off his hinges. Why… why… why… WHY? Wasn’t he just human? Couldn’t he make mistakes? Couldn’t they forgive him after all the times he’d risked his own safety for their entertainment? He deserved better. HE deserved something, not them. Hearford shakes his head wildly, trying to banish all the pain from his head, sending a few errant teardrops to the ground. His head stops moving, and he stands there, hunched over and breathing heavily, staring at the ground as he continues thinking. He’d show them what they’d driven him to. He’d show them what happens when you abandoned a man like that… …Masquerading as a man with a reason My charade is the event of the season And if I claim to be a wise man It surely means that I don't know… … Hearford shoves the camera away from his face, trying to hid himself from the prying eyes of the media. Reporters all around him ambush him with their microphones as they shoot questions off at him. “Why did you do it?” “Sir, you’ve lost your position in the county court and your career as a wrestler is seemingly over. How has this affected you?” “What do you intend to do after today?” Hearford shoves his way through the crowd, but one reporter manages to corner him. “Mr. Hearford, what is you your take on all of this?” He looks at her, and his face becomes filled with bitterness. Full of spite, he begins. “How do you think I feel about this? My life has been ruined, I’ve lost everything I cared for, and all my hard work is gone. I couldn’t possibly express with words what is happening to me, and if I could I wouldn’t share it with people like you.” With that, he shoves her away and makes his way to his car, speeding off from all the damned reporters once and for all. He begins thinking about what he had planned to do, and all the training he was going to need… …On a stormy sea of moving emotion Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune But I hear the voices say… “AGH!” William Hearford III bolts up from his pillow, moisture running down his face. He rushes his hand to his face, wiping off the cold perspiration dripping off his face. He’d woken up like this many times after joining the SJL, having memories flow back to him while he slept and waking up in an icy sweat. With staggered, shaky breaths Hearford slowly lies back down on his pillow and tries to forget about all that has happened to him. He glances over at his plane tickets to Austin that he bought early for the next show, trying to take his mind off the past by thinking about the future, but it doesn’t work. He looks over at the clock… …Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more… 4:01 He rolls over to the other side, away from the clock, and tries to will himself into slumber despite all the memories. Unfortunately for him, a good night’s sleep is something that a deeply troubled man can never truly have. … … … … … … 4:02 … … … … … Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
janusd 0 Report post Posted November 28, 2002 I finally have the guts to try and comment on these without feeling like a total noob. I love the feel of this one. A look at the Judge's past, showing that even the sternest, greatest of the league are only human when it comes to their troubles. Can't really say much more...it's all in how it feels, and I can't explain that. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Dace59 Report post Posted November 28, 2002 Gotta love the clock thing. It's always a sign. Damn, if I become champ, I've got to try to keep up with these promos. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest realitycheck Report post Posted November 28, 2002 And Judge appears with another supurb promo. I really like these history promos, Judge, even if you've gotten down on yourself about the last few you did. I love the way you slowly reveal Judge's past, showing exactly how he became what he is. The way you've constructed them is also quite good--it adds a very deep, very human element to the character. And the clock theme at the end is a cute nod to your first promo. Neat. -Z Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
