SWF Smarkdown Losing Matches

[Guest Mr. Slim Citrus]

Now chock-full of spotty goodness! (Y)

 

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FADE IN

 

“Grand Slam” Mark Stevens is still in a state of shock as we return from commercial. “How about that, huh? Janus and Crow!”

 

Bobby Riley holds his head. “I don’t know what just happened, Mark. But, I thought that Janus had joined Thoth as part of his new Clan?”

 

Stevens nods in agreement. “You don’t think that the Clan has some sort of plans for Crow, do you?”

 

Riley shrugs. “I don’t know about any of that, but I wouldn’t mind getting a one-on-one exclusive with Dante Crane!”

 

Stevens frowns in disgust. “Will you try thinking with the other head for a change?”

 

“W-W-W-What are you talking about,” stammers Riley. I was talking about an interview! God!”

 

Stevens rolls his eyes. “Well folks, one of the most memorable feuds in the history of the SJL has picked up where it left off here in the SWF,” Mark Stevens says excitedly.

 

Before he can utter another word, Biohazard’s “Sellout” begins to bleed through the speakers, starting off slowly, and quickly building to an aggressive drumbeat. The fans boo incessantly as Ejiro Fasaki steps through the curtain, his outfit covered by a knee-length leather coat, and his eyes covered by reflective sunglasses.

 

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a fifteen minute time limit,” says Funyon. “Making his way to the ring, from Sarasota, Florida, weighing one hundred eighty-eight pounds, one half of the SWF Tag Team Champions, EEEEEJIRO FAAAAASAKI!”

 

“This night has already been jam-packed with exciting SWF action,” says Mark Stevens. “A lot of it featuring Ejiro Fasaki and his most consistent rival, the Wildchild, who are about to go one on one, for the first time in an SWF ring, in just a few short moments!”

 

“The battles these two waged in the JL introduced the world to Ejiro Fasaki’s greatness,” adds Bobby Riley. “He ruled the SJL with an iron fist, holding the Heavyweight and European titles simultaneously, at one point! He not only beat Wildchild every time they faced each other, but humiliated him time and time again, even beating him in matches that catered to Wildchild’s talents, like that classic Scaffold Match!”

 

“Until,” replies Stevens, “oddly enough, Wildchild beat Fasaki at Malice in Wonderland, and not just beat him, but made him submit!”

 

Bobby Riley shakes his head. “The sun even shines on a dog’s ass, some days, Grand Slam! Wildchild got lucky, that’s all! But, I’m really looking forward to seeing just how thoroughly Ejiro intends to embarrass him this time. With any luck, he could send this kid running back to the Bahamas!”

 

“Don’t count on it, Bobby,” replies Stevens. “Wildchild has pushed Ejiro to the limit more than any other wrestler he’s ever faced! A good number of those contests could have gone either way!”

 

Riley grins at Stevens. “That’s a nice sense of revisionist history you’ve got going there, Mark.”

 

“…”

 

Ejiro walks up the steel steps to the ring apron, and steps between the ropes to enter the ring. He unbuttons his jacket and casually tosses it towards a ring attendant before making his way towards the ropes. His Tag Team Championship belt still wrapped firmly around his waist, Fasaki stands on the middle rope and holds his hands overhead as each corner explodes in a yellow pyrotechnical pillar of flame. Hopping down from the ropes, he removes his Tag Team Title and hands it to the referee as he walks over to a neutral corner, stretching out as he waits for his archrival.

 

“Boy, I tell you,” says Riley ecstatically, “Every aspiring wrestler out there should look at Ejiro as the prototype to model themselves after! A superb technical wrestler, he is!” Bobby gets a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes. “And what stamina! You can pound him all night long, and he keeps coming back for more!”

 

“You know this from first-hand experience,” quips Stevens.

 

Bobby hangs his head. “No, he told me that he wasn’t interested in… HEY! That’s not what… I mean…”

 

Stevens stifles a laugh at Riley’s exasperation, as “Sellout,” fades into nothingness, quickly replaced by the energetic beat of Smashing Pumpkin’s “The Everlasting Gaze.” The Kansas City faithful pop loudly as Wildchild emerges from behind the curtain. Immediately discarding his officially licensed t-shirt, Wildchild stalks purposefully towards the ring, his usually cheerful eyes overflowing with a burning intensity.

 

“And his opponent,” continues Funyon, “from the Bahamas, weighing two hundred seventeen pounds, the WIIIIILDCHIIIIILD!”

 

“King’s not going to be very happy about him giving away another one of those t-shirts,” notes Stevens. “But look at those eyes! I think that Fasaki may have set something off within Wildchild backstage.”

 

“I think Ejiro just reminded him of all those times he got his ass handed to him in the JL, and he’s upset because he knows he’s about to get more of the same!”

 

Wildchild runs towards the ring and dives between the bottom and middle ropes, somersaulting to his feet, half-expecting a sneak attack from Ejiro, but Fasaki remains in the corner, staring at him with a malicious grin across his face. Referee Eddy Long orders the timekeeper to ring the bell to start the match, and motions to the two competitors to engage.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“Bell’s gone,” says Stevens, “and we’re on our way!”

 

Wildchild and Fasaki meet in the center of the ring, and Wildchild gets right in his face. “I’m gon’ t’ beat you inta a pulp,” he growls, “an’ den I’m gon’ make you tell me what you did t’ Johnny!”

 

Fasaki looks up into Wildchild’s eyes, his grin growing broader. “You already know what happened, Wildchild. Johnny finally accepted the truth, and you can, too. I can help you—”

 

ZOT!

 

The crowd roars as Wildchild thrusts his fist into Ejiro’s face, sending him stumbling backwards with a right cross! The Bahama Bomber chases after Rule and wraps his right arm around his head, snaring him in a side headlock. Fasaki leads Wildchild back to the ropes and pushes him off to the other side.

 

WHACK!

 

Wildchild explodes off the ropes, leaping into the air and blasting Ejiro with a flying shoulderblock! He rolls over into a lateral press as Eddy Long dives into position to count the pin:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

Kickout!

 

“Didn’t take him long to kickout of that,” notes Riley.

 

“This match is just getting started, Bobby,” replies Stevens. “Let’s see how quickly he gets back up after he eats a few Pinballs!”

 

Ejiro pops back to his feet without difficulty, and surprises Wildchild with a kick to the midsection, leaning forward and trapping him in a side headlock as he’s bent over. Wildchild pushes Ejiro towards the ropes and drops to the mat as he bounces off.

 

THWACK!

 

Fasaki hops over the top of Wildchild and runs towards the opposite end of the ring, but the Bahama Bomber returns to his feet and leaps towards Ejiro as he bounces back off the ropes, whipping his leg sharply through the air and smashing him just underneath his chin with a leg lariat! Wildchild rolls on top of Rule once more as the referee dives into position:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

TW— Kickout!

 

 

Wildchild beats Ejiro to his feet, and leaps into the air as soon as he sees Fasaki getting up, locking his legs around Rule’s neck and pulling him overhead with a startlingly sudden rana that sends Ejiro all the way out of the ring!

 

“I’m beginning to sense a recurring theme here,” Mark says mirthfully. “Fasaki get up; Fasaki go down!”

 

“Shut up, Stevens,” sputters Riley. “Ejiro’s just pacing himself, that’s all! He’s got Wildchild right where he wants him!”

 

The referee begins to count Fasaki out as he paces back and forth outside the ring. Strangely enough, he shows no signs of upset of distress, as though everything is proceeding according to plan. With a frighteningly serene expression blanketing his face, Ejiro walks up the steps and returns to the ring. As he draws closer to Wildchild, he leans forward and says in a low voice, “I like to see that fire from you, Wildchild. That aggression is good! As soon as you realize that you’d be better served by giving in to it, you’ll be ready to seek your true destiny!”

 

Enraged, Wildchild takes a wild swing at Ejiro, but Fasaki ducks low and extends his arm towards Wildchild’s face as he pops up suddenly, stunning the Caribbean Cruiser with a pair of fingers to the eyes.

 

“Nice mat work by your technical expert,” Stevens mutters sardonically.

 

“Absolutely,” Bobby replies sincerely. “Haven’t you ever heard of the good ol’ Greco-Roman finger to the eyes?”

 

WHAM!

 

Lowering his body again, Ejiro lunges at Wildchild’s knees and lifts him off the mat with a textbook double-leg takedown. Rather than follow through and drop him to the mat, however, Ejiro runs him into the corner, driving his back into the turnbuckle pads. Ejiro takes a step out of the corner and then charges in, blasting Wildchild in the face with a vicious elbow smash! Fasaki leans in towards Wildchild and batters him elbow smashes as he continues his conversation.

 

“Now, take Johnny for example…

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

“King got him to realize that he was holding himself back…

 

 

WHACK!

 

“He was so concerned with what the fans thought of him…

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

“That he wasn’t concentrating on what truly matters…

 

 

WHACK!

 

 

“Sure, it might give you a warm, fuzzy feeling to make these peons happy…

 

 

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

 

 

Before Ejiro can finish his thought, Wildchild grabs him underneath his arms reverses roles, tossing him into the corner! As Ejiro bounces off the turnbuckles, the Bahama Bomber begins assaulting him with a barrage of right hands!

 

“Whatever Ejiro said to Wildchild in the corner doesn’t appear to have had the desired effect,” remarks Stevens. “Wildchild has become incensed in there!”

 

Wildchild grabs Ejiro by the arm and pulls him out of the corner, whipping him towards the opposite end of the ring, but Fasaki reverses! Wildchild leaps into the air as he approaches the corner, and lands on the top turnbuckle. Only pausing to take a quick glance behind him, Wildchild flips backwards off the top rope, but Fasaki has the move well scouted, and drops to the canvas in evasion.

 

SPLASH!

 

… But, instead of falling backwards, Wildchild flips straight into the air, and lands on the middle turnbuckle, which he uses as a springboard to flip off backwards, crashing into Ejiro’s back with a second-rope moonsault!

 

“Beautiful moonsault,” exclaims Stevens. “Ejiro thought he had the top rope attack scouted, but Wildchild faked him out, and hit him with a picture-perfect moonsault from the second rope!”

 

SPLASH!

 

Wildchild springs immediately to his feet and leaps into the air, flipping forward and crushing Fasaki’s back again with a standing Shooting Star Press! The referee dives into position as Wildchild rolls Ejiro over on his back, but the Bahama Bomber pulls him to his feet, rather than pin him, and grabs him by the arm, whipping him towards the ropes.

 

WHAM!

 

Wildchild leaps into the air as Ejiro bounces off the ropes, locking his hands behind Fasaki’s neck and planting his feet into his stomach, launching him off the mat with his patented Freefall throw! Wildchild deftly lands on his feet as Ejiro’s back bounces off the mat, and he runs to the ropes, leaping onto the second rope and springing backwards, smashing into Fasaki’s chest with springboard moonsault!

 

“Asai Moonsault,” shouts Stevens as Wildchild hooks the leg for a pinfall. “And, a cover!”

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR— KICKOUT!

 

 

“Wildchild got two and a half on that exchange,” says Stevens. “He appears to be focusing the brunt of his attacks on Ejiro’s upper torso, as the chest and the back have taken the majority of the beating so far!”

 

Wildchild pulls Ejiro to his feet and whips him towards the ropes, but Ejiro reverses.

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Wildchild leaps onto the top ropes and curls into a ball as he springs off, blasting Ejiro in the chest before he can react with a devastating Pinball attack! He rolls over the top of Fasaki and hooks the leg for a cover:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

Kickout!

 

Ejiro sits up as he kicks out forcefully, causing Wildchild to roll underneath the bottom rope. But the Bahama Bomber grabs onto the middle rope and uses it to pull himself to his feet. He leaps onto the top rope as Ejiro stands up with his back to him, and springs off, landing on Fasaki’s shoulders in a seated position, and spinning around, locking his legs around Ejiro’s neck as he does so, and throwing him to the mat with a spectacular headscissors takeover!

 

“Beautiful headscissor takeover by the Wildchild,” cries Stevens. “That kid is almost too fast for his own good!”

 

WHAM!

 

Ejiro lands at an angle with the corner, and the Tropical Tumbler jumps over his body and races up the turnbuckles, where he leaps off the top turnbuckle and falls straight back, crushing Fasaki’s ribs with a Senton splash!

 

“Wildchild has taken Ejiro out behind the woodshed,” exclaims Stevens. “He’s demolishing him in there!”

 

“Don’t count Ejiro out yet,” scoffs Riley. “He’s been in the ring against the likes of Frost and LDP! Guys who have serious power! How bad do you think a wrestler much closer to his actual size can possibly hurt him?”

 

“Well,” replies Stevens, “to be fair, neither Frost nor LDP ever hit Ejiro with any moves off the top rope! Wildchild’s strength might be negligible in a street fight, but with the way he wrestles, it doesn’t matter! When he drops two hundred and twenty pounds onto your chest cavity from eight feet in the air, you aren’t really thinking about how strong he is!”

 

Wildchild leans back and grabs Fasaki’s leg as Eddy Long dives into position to count the pinfall:

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

THR— HELL NO!

 

 

“I told you,” says Riley exultantly. “Ejiro can go all night!”

 

Wildchild pulls Fasaki up off the mat, but is unsure of what to try next. Rule looks up at his archrival with a pitying expression and says, “Stop holding back, Wildchild. You’re only fooling yourself!” Enraged, Wildchild swings at Ejiro’s head, but Fasaki ducks behind him and grabs him by the waist, lifting him into the air.

 

 

WHAM!

 

Rule lifts Wildchild up to shoulder level, and then cradles his hands together before dropping backwards, driving the Bahama Bomber into the mat!

 

“My God,” cries Stevens. “Reverse Fisherman’s Suplex! Where did Ejiro find the strength to do that?”

 

ONE!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR—NO!

 

Ejiro has his hands locked together fairly well, but the beating that Wildchild put on his ribs makes it too difficult for him to hold his arm across his body with Wildchild struggling to kick out. The Bahama Bomber flops over onto his stomach as Ejiro returns to a sitting position. Getting to his feet, he rolls Wildchild onto his back, and sits him up, so that he is facing the ring. Running back towards the ropes to build up steam, Fasaki jumps into the air as he bounces off, grabbing Wildchild by the head as he floats over and cranks his neck fiercely with a Hennig-style necksnap!

 

“Funny how a few simple moves can turn the tide in a match,” says Riley. “Wildchild threw just about everything in his arsenal at Ejiro, and all it takes from Ejiro is ONE well-timed suplex to take control!”

 

Ejiro drags Wildchild over to the ropes and drapes his throat over the middle rope. Rule he presses his knee into the back of Wildchild’s neck, choking him out against the middle rope! Fasaki leans over and begins talking to the Bahama Bomber, even as the Eddy Long begins to administer a five-count.

 

ONE!

 

 

“You know what your problem is, Wildchild?

 

 

TWO!

 

 

“You’re trapped in a cycle of futility, and you don’t even realize it…

 

 

THREE!

 

 

“You’ll never have a chance to reach the greatness that you’re capable of attaining as long as you care about what these people think!”

 

 

FOUR!

 

WHAM!

 

Ejiro releases the choke before the five count and runs to the opposite end of the ring, bouncing off the ropes to build up steam and charging back towards his archrival, leaping into the air as he approaches Wildchild and landing in a seated position in his back, forcing his neck against the ropes even harder!

 

“Ejiro’s really turned up the aggression here,” remarks Stevens. “It doesn’t look like he’s going to give Wildchild the opportunity to get back in this match!”

 

“And why should he,” adds Riley. “I told you before, Ejiro was just pacing himself! Unlike Wildchild, he doesn’t waste any energy in that ring; everything he does has a purpose, and is done exactly when he needs to do it!”

 

Ejiro reaches through the ropes and cups his and underneath Wildchild’s chin, tilting his face up to face the crowd. He leans in further to continue his conversation, as the referee administers another five-count:

 

 

ONE!

 

 

“Look at them, Wildchild!

 

 

TWO!

 

 

“How many of them do you think care when you’re putting your health, your very career on the line to entertain them?

 

 

THREE!

 

 

“How many of them came to visit you when Janus put you in the hospital?

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

“None of them! And do you want to know why?

 

 

FIVE!

 

At the referee’s orders, Ejiro pulls Wildchild away from the ropes, and ties him up in a front facelock. “Because none of them really give a damn about you,” he says. “To them, you’re just a sideshow freak! They don’t care whether you live or die, and if you kill yourself for their amusement, they’ll just move on to the next act!”

 

Fasaki releases Wildchild unexpectedly and pulls him up to eye level.

 

“Hey,” barks Riley. “What’d you do that for?”

 

Ejiro looks Wildchild in the eyes. “Don’t let these plebeians destroy you, kid. It doesn’t have to be like this; let us help you like we helped Johnny…”

 

SPLAT!

 

At the mention of Johnny’s name, Wildchild’s eyes fly open with rage, and he spits in Ejiro’s face!

 

“Agh,” croaks Riley.

 

Rule responds with a knee-lift into Wildchild’s midsection. “As you like it, then,” he says before grabbing Wildchild by the arm and whipping him towards the corner. But the Bahama Bomber reverses, sending Ejiro chest-first into the turnbuckles, and runs in behind him, smashing into Fasaki’s back with a running shoulderblock!

 

 

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

 

Using the middle ropes to steady him, Wildchild repeatedly thrusts his shoulder into Rule’s already injured back.

 

“He’s in the ropes,” moans Riley. “Do your job, ref! Get him out of there!”

 

 

SPLASH!

 

Eddy Long orders Wildchild to move out of the corner, and he obeys, but only long enough to jog back to the opposite corner to build up a running start, and race back towards Ejiro, leaping high into the air and twisting his body as he crashes into Fasaki’s back!

 

“Blue Crush,” cries Stevens. “Once again, Wildchild makes the ribs and back of Ejiro a focus of his attack!”

 

Wildchild turns Ejiro around and grabs him by the back of the head, pulling him out of the corner. He appears to be leading him to the opposite corner to pound his head into the turnbuckle, but instead shoves Fasaki towards the mat as they near the corner…

 

 

DING!

 

 

Ejiro slides across the mat as Wildchild shoves him down forcefully, and collides chest-first with the solid-steel ringpost!

 

“Oh my God,” groans Riley. “Poor Ejiro! He’s going to have bruises all over his chest!”

 

“That comes part and parcel with the business, Bobby,” replies Stevens.

 

“I know,” croaks Riley in response, “but it shouldn’t happen to someone as beautiful as Ejiro!”

 

“…”

 

 

WHAM!

 

 

Wildchild backs away from the corner, and then rushes in after his nemesis, leaping into the air and diving feet-first at Ejiro, forcing his injured ribs back against the ringpost with a baseball-slide dropkick!

 

“Good God,” shouts Stevens. “Ejiro has to be hurting by now!”

 

Rule is bleeding slightly from the mouth as Wildchild pulls him to his feet, grabs him by the arm and whips him towards the ropes. Fasaki reveres the whip attempt to send Wildchild in instead, and smartly backs away, to avoid the range of Wildchild’s Pinball attack.

 

 

BAM!

 

Wildchild surges back towards Ejiro as he bounces off the ropes, but Fasaki scoops him up in a bearhug and falls backwards, clotheslining the Bahama Bomber on the top rope!

 

“My God,” exclaims Stevens. “Ejiro came from out of NOWHERE to hit a Stun-Gun-type maneuver on Wildchild!”

 

“That’ll take the steam out of you in a hurry,” adds Riley.

 

Due to the damage already sustained to his ribs and back, the act of lifting Wildchild proves to have lasting effects on Fasaki, as he clutches his chest in pain. Determined to proceed with his plan, he rolls out of the ring and makes his way over to the timekeeper’s table, where he snatches his Tag Team Title belt out of Funyon’s lap! Pulling the announcer out of his seat with the other hand, Ejiro grabs the steel chair he was seated in, and folds it up, carrying it back to the ring as well.

 

“What the hell does he think he’s going to do with those,” shouts Stevens.

 

Sliding the chair in first, Ejiro clutches the title belt in his hand as he rolls back into the ring. Scrambling to his feet, he raises the belt to shoulder level and waits for Wildchild to stand up.

 

“This is where your destiny lies, Wildchild,” Ejiro says as he draws his arm back. “Don’t deny yourself any longer!”

 

“Dammit, Long,” roars Stevens, “step in there and do something!”

 

Before Rule can follow through on his swing, Eddy Long grabs the title belt and wrenches it out of his hand! And, as he walks over to the edge of the ring to hand the belt back to the timekeeper, Ejiro reaches for the chair, but Wildchild dives for it, and gets there first! As he stands up, chair in hand, Ejiro looks at him, with a knowing smile on his face.

 

“No,” warns Stevens. “Don’t do it, kid!”

 

“Go ahead, Dominic,” he says. “Set yourself free. You can join Johnny in a quest for the real truth—”

 

 

CRACK!

 

Referee Eddy Long turns his attention back towards the ring, just in time to see Wildchild bash Ejiro in the face with a steel chair! Immediately, he turns back towards the timekeeper, barking, “That’s it! Ring the bell!”

 

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“That was brilliant,” crows Riley. “He outsmarted him!”

 

Ejiro rolls out of the ring, and the referee follows him, returning his title belt to him. Across the ring, Funyon raises the microphone to his lips, saying, “ladies and gentlemen, the referee has awarded this contest, as a result of a disqualification, to EEEEEJIRO FAAAAASAAAAAKIIIII!”

 

Eddy Long holds Ejiro’s hand aloft in victory as “Sellout” begins to pump through the speakers. The fans in the Kemper Arena stand in mostly stunned silence as Ejiro begins to walk backwards up the ramp, his eyes never leaving Wildchild. Despite blood trickling from his nose and mouth, Fasaki’s face is covered by a wide grin as he stares into Wildchild’s eyes.

 

“Look at the look in Ejiro’s eyes,” says Stevens. “He looks like the cat that ate the canary. It’s almost like it was all part of his plan to have Wildchild get disqualified!”

 

“What makes you so sure that it wasn’t,” asks Riley. “With what we saw earlier backstage, I think it’s pretty clear that Ejiro’s playing mind games with Wildchild!”

 

Wildchild stands in the ring, still holding the chair, his face barely able to contain his rage as he stares out at Ejiro. Rule continues to stare back at him, the smirk never leaving his face, as he nods in approval. “You’ll come around,” he shouts into the ring, causing Wildchild to respond with a feral scream.

 

As we:

FADE OUT

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

WC, this was a really good match. As I told King in my PM to him regarding the match, I had to go to a points system to decide it, and Ejiro topped your match by just 2 points. It was very close, and though I’m not entirely sure what your plans are, I hope you stay in singles competition for a while. You have shown a *marked* improvement since I first marked some of your matches.

 

In the end, Ejiro had a bit of better wrestling and an excellent finish that did a lot for both characters. Your match was an excellent spotfest that did a very good job of also including Ejiro’s anti-cruiserweight cruiserweight style, particularly with the varying chokeholds and heel moves he used while trash-talking WC. There was one sequence I absolutely loved—a rapid-fire exchange of high-spots that just went and went and went towards the beginning, and in those moments I really saw the WC character personified. There were very few actual problems with the match—the biggest thing was probably how all the Ejiro mindgames slowed down the match. I know it was tying into the story you’ve been working on, but it unfortunately took a lot away from the pace of the match and left the center part of your match a bit thin on much beyond the two guys talking and shoving in the ring. Looking at the promo just before the match, I offer my opinion that a lot of the interaction actually in the match was redundant. In any case, it was very close, and like I said, I hope your current plan has you sticking in singles for a while. The wins may not be coming as frequently as you like, but often a very close loss can be almost as valuable as a win. Keep it coming.

[Guest Goodear]

I'd have to echo what Edwin said about the inner match commentary from Ejiro here Wildchild. I did something similar in mine to get across a similar point, but yours sounded almost too calm and composed for a guy in the middle of the match. Hopefully, I got over what you were looking for though.

[Guest Mr. Slim Citrus]

Thanks guys. To be honest, I had not originally intended for my promo to make the commentary redundant; I was depending on another promo to be submitted, that was intended to tie in more closely with what's going on, and when that fell through, I had to improv a little, and I guess I forgot about some of the dialogue I put in the match.

 

I see what you're getting at about the middle portion of the match, and I can only chalk it up to a lack of imagination: I knew what I wanted to express, but I didn't really know how to put it into words.

 

In my last few outings, I have been trying to implement more psychology in my matches, but I'm not really sure if I've been pulling it off very well.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

You definitely have been improving as far as psychology goes. I'm not even talking about working over a body part as a strategy--that has its place, but is overused, really. Ejiro using chokeholds, slowing down the match, and just wrestling a different style to try to ground and piss off WC is a very nice foray into the psychological aspects of the match. You're definitely on the right track.