Post by Deleted on Jun 6, 2017 21:54:32 GMT -5
The camera flickers on with only the moving palm of a hand visible.
“There. I think I’ve got it.”
The hand moves away to show Isaiah Elliott’s face looking down into the camera. His inquisitive look shifts to a triumphant smile as he backs away from the camera. The room around appears to be a hotel room. He sits in the rolling computer chair and settles in. He looks at the ground for a moment before looking up at the camera.
“Look, I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. I mean, not that sort of existential philosophical view but this whole talking-on-camera thing. I guess the best place to start would be an introduction. My name is Isaiah Elliott. I’m from Asheville, North Carolina, born and raised. I’ll admit that I’m probably not as interesting as a lot of the people I see around here. I just finished watching King Cassius and let me tell you, that was entertaining.”
Isaiah laughs to himself.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to go all third-person on you. I’m just… I’m not that entertaining a conversationalist, you know? Well, I suppose it was more a monologue than a conversation but I’m sure I’d enjoy a conversation with that dude. Sorry, I’m getting off track. I’m sure this is painfully obvious but I’m new to fighting for a big time promotion. Most my my fighting and training has been theoretical. Now, I’ve been given the great privilege of fighting for a major promotion in Union Battleground. I owe my sincere gratitude to Mr. Graves and the staff here for this opportunity and I will do my absolute best to not disappoint.”
Isaiah leans back and takes a deep breath before refocusing on the camera.
“I believe this is the point where I speak on the upcoming fight, right? At Lights Out in Nashville, Tennessee, I take on the man known as Crowbar. Right off the top, that’s a fantastic name. When you hear it, you just think of cold hard steel bludgeoning something, or someone, into unconsciousness or worse. And this guy? When you watch him fight, you see it’s not just a name. He’s a nasty brawler looking to inflict as much punishment as he can on his opponents. He uses his powerful shots to wear them down and is merciless about finishing the fight when he can. It’s easy to look at his 2-2 record and pass judgment on him but when you look closer, you see that those two losses were to the only two men to hold the Union Battleground Championship. Even more, he took both of them to the absolute limits. Neither of them would be able to call him an easy victory. I’m certainly not going to sit here and tell you that’s what’s waiting for me. I know I’m in for a fight. I fully expect gashes, bruises… Everything that comes with serious punishment.”
Isaiah looks up at the camera, his eyes narrowing.
“But I’m ready for it. I’ve trained for a long time waiting for this moment. I’ve studied Crowbar and I know that I’ll come out of this match beaten up and sore. I also know every single ache and pain is going to be worth it. These are the big leagues. These people that lace ‘em up every night are the true heavy hitters. I’m just a guy but I’m also a guy who was given a chance, one I cannot and will not squander. I’ll be the first to sit here and admit it: I will lose now and then. I have a lot to learn about the nature of this business and the wide variety of fighters. Sure, I’ve trained but mostly against amateurs. The downside is that I’ve not seen true uber-skilled fighters before. The upside is that I’ve learned the chaotic nature of fighting in its most primal sense. I didn’t just see people who were precise, calculated and cerebral. I saw people who fought because they needed an extra dollar. I’ve seen people fight just for the enjoyment of hurting smaller opponents. I’ve seen chaos at its finest. And that is why this will not be a walk in the park for someone like Crowbar.”
Isaiah smiles a knowing smile.
“Crowbar is powerful and vicious, both in words and in action, but he’s… Unrefined. He’s raw, like the kind of guy you’d see in a barfight. His chaotic nature would give the fine-tuned fighter fits due to the unpredictability of his actions. I mean, sure, you know he’s going to swing on you but they’re not pinpointed. They’re not consistent. When you think he’s about to throw a haymaker, he jabs you in the jaw and rocks you. This is exactly the kind of guy I’m used to fighting. He wants to hurt me and I’m not going to pretend that he won’t. In the end, though, he has to find a way to win. When you watch his fights against Devereaux and Tweeder, it was a matter of him making mistakes at the wrong time. The important part about beating a man like this is weathering his storm and capitalizing at just the right moment. My style is a bit unorthodox and mixes precision with brawling but ultimately, I feel like my toughness is my greatest ally in this fight. Against a punisher, you must first accept that you’re going to be punished. Mix in some vigor, tenacity, and mental fortitude and you give yourself a chance. I may be new and I may be raw but I’m telling you right now, I have a chance.”
Isaiah Elliott pops his knuckles and takes a deep breath before returning his gaze to the camera.
“Crowbar, I’ve seen what you stand for. Violence. Chaos. Vices. I’ve known many men like you, men who expire way too quickly. You have many strengths, some of which I’ve already outlined. The pitfall here is that these are also some of your greatest weaknesses. You fight with one style, no adaptation. It’s akin to slamming your head into a brick wall repeatedly because you know at some point, it’s going to crack. Maybe, but odds are your skull cracks first. You’re an imposing man but you lack the mental aspect of fighting. Brawn wins fights in high school and bars but it takes more to win on a bigger stage. Yeah, I know it’s strange that a rook like me would be telling you, an established fighter, what it takes to win in an area in which I have no experience. My strengths exist where your weaknesses leave something to be desired. I’ve studied you, learned more about how you fight, how you adapt in a fight, how you behave when you’re winning or losing. I spend the time to know as much as I can before I walk down to that ring. It’s an area you could improve upon and use it to catapult yourself to a championship. It’s one of the few pieces you’re missing. In the meantime though, I’m going to use that to my advantage. I’m going to embrace your violence, take my lumps, get my shots in, then capitalize once you make a critical mistake. Don’t get me wrong, I like your style. It just needs refinement. Fortunately for me, I don’t think you’ll learn that before Friday. I look forward to facing you, sir. Best of luck.”
Isaiah stands and walks over to the camera. The front of his shirt obscures the view of the rest of the room.
“Now how do I turn this thing o--”
The feed cuts.
“There. I think I’ve got it.”
The hand moves away to show Isaiah Elliott’s face looking down into the camera. His inquisitive look shifts to a triumphant smile as he backs away from the camera. The room around appears to be a hotel room. He sits in the rolling computer chair and settles in. He looks at the ground for a moment before looking up at the camera.
“Look, I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. I mean, not that sort of existential philosophical view but this whole talking-on-camera thing. I guess the best place to start would be an introduction. My name is Isaiah Elliott. I’m from Asheville, North Carolina, born and raised. I’ll admit that I’m probably not as interesting as a lot of the people I see around here. I just finished watching King Cassius and let me tell you, that was entertaining.”
Isaiah laughs to himself.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to go all third-person on you. I’m just… I’m not that entertaining a conversationalist, you know? Well, I suppose it was more a monologue than a conversation but I’m sure I’d enjoy a conversation with that dude. Sorry, I’m getting off track. I’m sure this is painfully obvious but I’m new to fighting for a big time promotion. Most my my fighting and training has been theoretical. Now, I’ve been given the great privilege of fighting for a major promotion in Union Battleground. I owe my sincere gratitude to Mr. Graves and the staff here for this opportunity and I will do my absolute best to not disappoint.”
Isaiah leans back and takes a deep breath before refocusing on the camera.
“I believe this is the point where I speak on the upcoming fight, right? At Lights Out in Nashville, Tennessee, I take on the man known as Crowbar. Right off the top, that’s a fantastic name. When you hear it, you just think of cold hard steel bludgeoning something, or someone, into unconsciousness or worse. And this guy? When you watch him fight, you see it’s not just a name. He’s a nasty brawler looking to inflict as much punishment as he can on his opponents. He uses his powerful shots to wear them down and is merciless about finishing the fight when he can. It’s easy to look at his 2-2 record and pass judgment on him but when you look closer, you see that those two losses were to the only two men to hold the Union Battleground Championship. Even more, he took both of them to the absolute limits. Neither of them would be able to call him an easy victory. I’m certainly not going to sit here and tell you that’s what’s waiting for me. I know I’m in for a fight. I fully expect gashes, bruises… Everything that comes with serious punishment.”
Isaiah looks up at the camera, his eyes narrowing.
“But I’m ready for it. I’ve trained for a long time waiting for this moment. I’ve studied Crowbar and I know that I’ll come out of this match beaten up and sore. I also know every single ache and pain is going to be worth it. These are the big leagues. These people that lace ‘em up every night are the true heavy hitters. I’m just a guy but I’m also a guy who was given a chance, one I cannot and will not squander. I’ll be the first to sit here and admit it: I will lose now and then. I have a lot to learn about the nature of this business and the wide variety of fighters. Sure, I’ve trained but mostly against amateurs. The downside is that I’ve not seen true uber-skilled fighters before. The upside is that I’ve learned the chaotic nature of fighting in its most primal sense. I didn’t just see people who were precise, calculated and cerebral. I saw people who fought because they needed an extra dollar. I’ve seen people fight just for the enjoyment of hurting smaller opponents. I’ve seen chaos at its finest. And that is why this will not be a walk in the park for someone like Crowbar.”
Isaiah smiles a knowing smile.
“Crowbar is powerful and vicious, both in words and in action, but he’s… Unrefined. He’s raw, like the kind of guy you’d see in a barfight. His chaotic nature would give the fine-tuned fighter fits due to the unpredictability of his actions. I mean, sure, you know he’s going to swing on you but they’re not pinpointed. They’re not consistent. When you think he’s about to throw a haymaker, he jabs you in the jaw and rocks you. This is exactly the kind of guy I’m used to fighting. He wants to hurt me and I’m not going to pretend that he won’t. In the end, though, he has to find a way to win. When you watch his fights against Devereaux and Tweeder, it was a matter of him making mistakes at the wrong time. The important part about beating a man like this is weathering his storm and capitalizing at just the right moment. My style is a bit unorthodox and mixes precision with brawling but ultimately, I feel like my toughness is my greatest ally in this fight. Against a punisher, you must first accept that you’re going to be punished. Mix in some vigor, tenacity, and mental fortitude and you give yourself a chance. I may be new and I may be raw but I’m telling you right now, I have a chance.”
Isaiah Elliott pops his knuckles and takes a deep breath before returning his gaze to the camera.
“Crowbar, I’ve seen what you stand for. Violence. Chaos. Vices. I’ve known many men like you, men who expire way too quickly. You have many strengths, some of which I’ve already outlined. The pitfall here is that these are also some of your greatest weaknesses. You fight with one style, no adaptation. It’s akin to slamming your head into a brick wall repeatedly because you know at some point, it’s going to crack. Maybe, but odds are your skull cracks first. You’re an imposing man but you lack the mental aspect of fighting. Brawn wins fights in high school and bars but it takes more to win on a bigger stage. Yeah, I know it’s strange that a rook like me would be telling you, an established fighter, what it takes to win in an area in which I have no experience. My strengths exist where your weaknesses leave something to be desired. I’ve studied you, learned more about how you fight, how you adapt in a fight, how you behave when you’re winning or losing. I spend the time to know as much as I can before I walk down to that ring. It’s an area you could improve upon and use it to catapult yourself to a championship. It’s one of the few pieces you’re missing. In the meantime though, I’m going to use that to my advantage. I’m going to embrace your violence, take my lumps, get my shots in, then capitalize once you make a critical mistake. Don’t get me wrong, I like your style. It just needs refinement. Fortunately for me, I don’t think you’ll learn that before Friday. I look forward to facing you, sir. Best of luck.”
Isaiah stands and walks over to the camera. The front of his shirt obscures the view of the rest of the room.
“Now how do I turn this thing o--”
The feed cuts.