"Deandre, are you sure this is what you want to do? Are you sure you don't want to give football another chance? See if there's a team willing to give you a workout?"
These are the words my agent asked me when I told him that I was going to be moving into wrestling full time and walking away from football, three days after the Miami Dolphins decided to cut me. I won't lie to you, getting cut stung. I had dominated in college and thought I had a chance to make it to the NFL. It had been my dream ever since I was a child. Ever since I watched football with my dad. I wanted to be the next big name in the sport. The next Aaron Donald who defenses wouldn't be able to handle. Yet it wasn't to be. It just didn't work out, not much more I can say. Sometimes life is like that. You might know the direction you want to go, but the cards just don't fall your way. It's just how life is.
"Yes, Mike. I'm sure this is what I want to do. Remember, I told you this was always the backup. This was always what I wanted to do if it didn't pan out in the NFL. I think now is the time to pull the trigger and step into the ring again. Remind the world that I am still a two-time national champion and that I can do it in the pros too."
He knew the moment I told him that I was serious about this. That while it may have been a "Plan B" at first. Something that I had put on the backburner in pursuit of a career in the NFL, it isn't that anymore. It's now the "Plan A". The main course I plan on taking in my life and the sport where I fully intend on dominating. Where I plan on stepping into the ring and letting each and every person standing on the opposite side know that what's about to happen to them isn't personal. It's just business. It's my way or going out there and making it known that I'm not messing around. That I'm not willing to just use this as a stepping stone before moving on but that I am for real. That just like football, this is just as much my life.
I'm betting on myself.
I'm willing to take the risk that this might not work out. That I might fail as I know that the pros are different to high school and college. That there are people who have been born into this world and know the ins and outs more than I do, but to me... that doesn't matter. I don't care if you've been in this business one day or fifteen years. To me, you are all the same. Names on the list that will soon become victims. Targets. People for me to take down and leave in my wake as I rise to the top of the industry. As I prove that you can succeed when you gamble on yourself and step into a world that may be new to you but one that you are willing to do whatever it takes in. It's not about the money. It's not simply about going into the ring and earning a check. It's about ensuring that people see that if you have a back up plan. If you're willing to have something you can sink your teeth into and make your own even if your original plan doesn't work out, then you don't need to go back to square one and re-set, because you'll already know the direction you're going to take.
For me, that is wrestling.
It's why when the IIW came calling and told me that they had a spot for me. That they wanted me to join their roster, I was more than happy to pull the trigger. To let them know that they would be the place where my career started. The first step to fulfilling my promise and truly reaching the pinnacle of the industry and achieving what I couldn't in football. That is: reaching the top of the game and showing that I'm not just talking. That I am just as capable of being the top guy as anybody else... especially those who have been here all their lives. I wouldn't be here otherwise. I'd be doing myself a disservice if I didn't think that I could succeed. If I didn't believe I could be the best. No, if I didn't believe that I am the best.
"Tell them to keep the seat warm for me."
That is exactly what I told my agent when they sent through the contract. When they let us know the terms that they were willing to agree to in order to have the hottest prospect in the sport sign on the dotted line and become a part of their roster. Make them into the company you want to tune into week after week, just so that you can say you witnessed with your own eyes the rise of the next big thing in professional wrestling from day one. That you understood immediately that the superlatives. That the ego wasn't just him talking, but that I am more than willing and able to walk the walk. That when I tell you that I don't care who it is that stands across from me, I mean it and that they are all just going to end up the same way.
Defeated.
On the mat, looking up at the lights and wondering where it went wrong for them. Why weren't they able to beat this man standing in front of them? Why didn't their experience matter? The answer will be simple. They just didn't have the passion or desire to get the job done. They didn't have the intensity they needed in order to step to me, just like those who I ran through in high school and college didn't. Don't worry though, you won't be alone in that. You're not the only person who will find out that when I step into that ring, I'm not just another wrestler. I am a beast who is willing to run through you like I ran through offensive linemen on the football field. Casting you aside before moving onto the next one.
Starting with Knox.
A man who, like me, also made the move to the sport from football. Who also like me, was a Defensive Tackle, except he actually got to play snaps in the NFL. I know about your career Knox. I know you made a solid career for yourself before realizing that your time had come and moved on so that new names and talents could come in. That your body had told you it was time to hang up the boots, so you came into this sport, hoping that you would be able to showcase your prowess would translate over, yet so far it hasn't. You've not been able to capture the success you've desired and instead found yourself as another name in the crowd. A faceless entity who people look at and state "Oh, isn't he the former NFL player?" because that's all they know about you.
I'm sure that it stings knowing that from day one, even though you made it further than I did in football, plus the fact that you've been in this sport longer than I have, that it is me and not you who their eyes are on. That it is me who they are flocking to their Televisions and computers to see, whereas you are just another guy. The guy chosen to be my first opponent due to our shared roads toward wrestling but another guy, nonetheless. I'm sure you're going to try and tell me you plan on welcoming me into the business. That this isn't like the football field and although I might have been somebody there that I am nothing here, yet I'm already aware my name isn't known. That I am just the new kid on the IIW block. That doesn't mean I'm not about to step into that ring and drop you. Make you look like a rookie while I am the veteran. Use you as the first rung on the ladder and show them that it wasn't just the NFL where you had run out of gas in the tank. It's wrestling also.
Stepping aside isn't new to you.
Just like when you stepped away from the NFL, you'll be stepped aside from this sport after Mayhem, realizing that you are empty. Just another washed up fighter who didn't realize his time was done until it was too late to do anything about it. It's just your time and I hope you were listening closely when I said you need a back up plan, because it's time to cash in and pull the trigger on what would be your "Plan C". I'll make sure it's as painless as possible though, but I cannot guarantee that you will be standing on your own once our match is said and done. I'm going to be making my mark in that ring in front of the brightest lights. Proving that this isn't just a flash in the pan. Whereas you'll be walking off, tail tucked between your legs and realizing that you have failed. That you aren't able to live up to the billing you had been given.
This is just the beginning.
For the rest of you, watch closely. Study what happens to Knox, because one day... it'll be you too facing the same fate. Left at my feet as I make my way to the top. As I claim the crown that awaits me and hold the gold you so richly desire. It's only going to be a matter of time until it's your turn to step to me. Knox is simply number one to be checked off, but each and every one of you will get your turn to be marked off the list and left at my feet. That's a promise.
The scene opens to a studio in Joplin, Missouri that appears to have been repurposed as a Television set. In the middle of the room, is a chocolate three seater leather couch with plush black cushions resting against the back rests of all three seats, separated from the tripod camera that has been set up by a mahogany coffee table, positioned on top of a red velvet rug. On either corner of the rug, are two steel pylons, each with LED lighting atop of them and shining in the direction of the couch. Around the rest of the room, there are various pieces of artwork adorning the walls, giving this location a warm, homely type of feeling before the focus turns to the couch, where a man wearing a white shirt with the top two buttons undone, denim jeans held up by a caramel belt with a golden buckle, as well as black leather boots to complete the outfit. Staring into the camera, the man, who if you know anything about football or have heard the news recently, immediately strikes you as being none other than Deandre Williams, rests his arms on the empty seat cushions next to him before a small smile crosses his face.
Deandre: We may have taken the same path to get to this point, Knox, but you know we aren't built the same. We both may have been defensive tackles in college and tried to make a name for ourselves in the NFL before coming to wrestling, but that doesn't mean our destinies in this sport are the same. It sure as fuck doesn't mean that you laid out the blueprint for me either, no matter how much you might believe that I am simply following in your footsteps. Trying to leech off your base.
Deandre laughs, bristling at the mere thought that Knox is anything close to the reason he decided to turn to wrestling.
Deandre: I promise you that you didn't. I actually intend on being successful in this sport and not just a man who settles for being a towel boy or "muscle" for a group, staying in the shadows as others pass you by for opportunities you thought you would be able to get. Chances you thought your name and history alone would be granted to you, only to learn that you actually have to have talent to grasp them. That what you did in the NFL doesn't matter here, just like what I did in high school and college doesn't matter to the fans. Difference is, I know that. You seem to fail to realize that and have made your entire personality "Former NFL player" and "big man who wrestles".
That's not going to fly.
Especially not when you lack the capability in the ring to back it up. To show the fans and everybody else that you belong here. That you're not just here to collect the check and run errands for the "Purge", whoever they are and be content with your life. I'm sure you might tell me that you're a "family" and that they have your back as much as you have theirs but we both know that isn't the truth, don't we? We both know you're only doing that because you know it's the only way you have some sense of relevancy and aren't just seen as "generic person" whenever you step into the ring. I get it. They offer you something you can cling to and you hold onto that with all you have, yet what are you truly offering them aside from a name. A troop to throw out there and feed to the lions?
Nothing.
You know that too. That's why you hide in the shadows, letting them bend you to their will and take the lumps. Hoping that one day, they will give you a bone. Give you something that you can hold on to and make yours. Only to realize that it's not coming and instead, you are simply a shield. A means for them to say "hey, you wouldn't be here without us" in order to keep you compliant and ensure you know your place.
Continuing to look into the camera, his expression is icy cold as his eyes narrow and he leans forward.
Deandre: Maybe you're okay with that. I know that if I were in your shoes though, I wouldn't be. I'd be doing whatever I could to show that I'm not finished. That I don't need anybody to watch my back and wipe my ass. Instead, I would go out there and prove to the world that I am so much more than a simple errand boy. That I am so much more than somebody who goes into the ring and gets beaten up, then cashes his check and moves onto the next opponent. Show them that I'm not as washed as I might appear, that I still have fight left in me. I hope you do Knox, because I don't want you to just lay down in that ring come Mayhem. I don't want to simply ragdoll you and expose you as nothing more than a fraud. Somebody who claims they are a badass. That they have the toughness and intensity to hold their own in the ring, only to be nothing more than a teddy bear or a punching bag. I really don't want anything easy in that ring.
His glare firming, the scowl returns to his face.
Deandre: It doesn't do me any favors. Think about it, if you make it easy for me, what's it going to prove on my end? I beat somebody who just couldn't hang. Yes, you're experienced but that's about all. All it'd prove is that you aren't as good as you thought and should have stayed in the NFL or at home, relaxing and on the money you had earned in the sport. I know that's not what you want. I know you wouldn't be here if you didn't think you had something you could still offer to the industry. Something that can prove you still have some gas in the tank. I want you to show that to me at Mayhem. I want you to go out there and show them why you are someone who should be feared. Someone who is more than just another big man. Another speed bump, there to try and test me. See if I'm ready for the spotlight and the next step on my road to greatness. I'm sure you want to show the rest of the Purge you can carry your own weight as well. Prove to them that they made the right choice by letting you into their ranks.
This is your opportunity.
Just as much as this is my time. My chance to prove to the world I am every bit a star as they claim, this is your chance to show them you exist. That you want to be here and grasp the "brass ring" that has eluded you. Show them you are a fighter instead of just roadkill. Prove you are capable of giving the fight I desire, even if in the end, you won't be walking out with the victory. This is as much your chance to make a statement as it is mine, and whereas mine will be heard loud and clear by both the audience and everybody else in the back, it is in your hands how your statement is received. Will it be a roar or a whisper? Will you bring all you have to the ring or are you willing to just be a mannequin? That is up to you, Knox.
You're the only one who can answer them.
The Purge isn't able to make it for you. The fans aren't able to tell you the answer. All you can do is step into the ring and show them your response between those ropes. Show them the passion and desire that made you an NFL defensive tackle. That got you to the big dance and followed you into this sport. Otherwise, you're simply going to be showing them what I already know. That you just don't have it anymore. That no matter what you might think. No matter how twisted and dark you might appear to be, there is a man who simply has nothing left. Who is settling for the tiny scraps that have been left for him and has been waiting for somebody to put him down. To show him that the fans see right through him and his supposed "brutality" and strength, realizing it has been long gone.
Leaning back against the couch, he slightly smiles. Well aware of the chord that he is striking within Knox.
Deandre: That is the biggest difference between us. Where your time is winding down, just waiting for you to pull the plug and fade into obscurity, my time is just starting. My name is just beginning to be made. Waiting for the iron to heat up so that I can ascend and take my place at the top. I know it has to sting to know that a rookie is doing what you did better than you could even imagine. That when people think of those who made the transition from football to wrestling, my name is the one at the top of the list and not yours, even though you technically made it further in the sport than I did. I can't help it that you weren't able to get the job done and felt the need to turn to the dark side. I can't help it that you thought it would be as easy as strolling in and letting your name speak for yourself, hoping nobody would really challenge you or see through your bullshit. What I can help is putting you out of your misery and letting you go home in peace. Relax, knowing that the next generation is ready to take charge.
That's what I'll be doing at Mayhem.
You'll be able to say you were the one in the ring when the story of Deandre began. When I prove that I'm not just a collegiate and high school wrestler who couldn't make it or hang in the pros, but every bit the star I claim. I'm sure there'll be many who'll want to know the tale of the time you brought the fight and everything you had when stepping to me, only to see that it wasn't enough. That the very same fate that drove you out of the NFL, has come to drive you out of wrestling. It happens to everybody, so don't be too saddened by that, Knox. Just like Quarterbacks were on the football field, you'll be sacked and left staring up at the one who took you down, wondering why you weren't as protected as you had assumed you would be.
Exhaling, a more jovial expression appears across his face. One that showcases both confidence and calm.
Deandre: Truth is, it doesn't matter how much protection you have. You could have the best protection in the world and the result would still be the same. It's just fate that I am going to take you to the mat and be the one who pins you. Leaving you with nothing but your own disappointments. Your own failure to escape. There's nowhere you can run. Nowhere you can side and nobody you can throw in front of me to stop what is coming your way at Mayhem, Knox.
Embrace it.
Accept it.
For at the end of the day, this is just business. It's not personal. I just hope you don't lay down in that ring, because I plan on tearing you apart. Limb from limb. Looking down the ramp and making sure that everybody else sees what will happen to them and the fans see for themselves that I'm the name who's about to be on their lips. The man who will give them everything they desire and ensure every show is worth the price of admission. Mayhem is just the beginning.
Reaching into his pocket, Deandre pulls out a remote, pointing it in the direction of the camera, before pressing the largest, central button and stopping the recording. Placing it back into his pocket, he then pushes himself off the couch and walks between the couch and table, heading out of the studio.
The scene changes to Deandre's home, where he sits at the head of his oaken table in the kitchen, wearing the same attire he had during his earlier message to Knox. On the other side of the table, wearing a charcoal pinstripe suit with white undershirt and navy tie that has black diagonal striping down the center of it, as well as black loafers, is Mark Phillips. Deandre's agent who he hired upon graduating from college and the man who helped him get the IIW contract. Looking across at one another, both have relaxed expressions on their faces and white ceramic cups of coffee in front of them.
Mark: Don't you think you were a little too harsh to Knox? I mean, he has been doing this longer than you.
Deandre can't help but laugh at that statement.
Deandre: Nah. If he wants to step into that ring, then I want him to show that he isn't washed up. That he is more than just the first name to be checked off. He could be the world champion and I would have still said the same thing. You know me.
Sighing, Mark simply nods his head. All too familiar with Deandre's confidence and swagger. He's seen it many times before.
Mark: Fair enough. Though you know this is going to backfire if he beats you. After all, you don't want to be damaging your brand this early into your career.
More laughter from Deandre, this time receiving a raised eyebrow from Mark in response. Curious to know what he finds so funny, seeing as Mark is the one who has to manage his brand and run PR if it is damaged in any way.
Mark: What? I'd rather not have to deal with doing damage control if you fall on your face.
Deandre: Man, you worry too much. I'll be fine. You really think I'm going to go out there and let Knox beat me? Come on, you know me better than that. You know I'm not going to lose at Mayhem. Especially not on my first night. Just relax and enjoy the show man. Let me handle going out there and doing my job and you make sure everything else is in order. That all the promotional stuff is sent out and published. That all the checks are in order and they're keeping their end of the bargain.
Mark simply nods, though rolls his eyes at the arrogance from Deandre. Although he is used to cocky clients, having been in this job for fifteen years and seen many stars rise up the ranks, most of them had already laid a foundation in their chosen sport before making the sort of brash statements Deandre is. Or at least, at the professional level that is.
Mark: Okay. I just hope you don't mess this up.
Deandre: Have I messed anything up?
Mark: Not yet.
Deandre smirks at his agent at that admission.
Deandre: See? So don't worry. I'm not about to screw this up.
He then breaks up the thought, remembering something. The actual reason he asked for Mark to come over in the first place.
Deandre: Anyway, you got the flight set up?
Mark: Yes. They said they'll be able to fly out at eleven on Wednesday. Also have an interview set up on Friday with Stephen A. Smith for ESPN.
Deandre: Alright. Did he say what time?
Mark nods.
Mark: Twelve P.M Eastern. Though he said they can do any time between twelve and four if you want to do it later.
Deandre: Nah, twelve is fine. Via zoom I guess?
Another nod from Mark, who remembers the phone call he had with Smith prior to arranging the interview. Deandre notes that and places it into filing within his brain. To him, this is just a part of being a star. Being willing to go out there and not just promote yourself, but also promote the company you are in. The place where people can turn to if they want to see you ply your trade and back up the words you speak. Just as he has done when interviewed in college. Both for football and wrestling.
Mark: Just remember, you represent IIW just as much as yourself, so don't do anything that's going to hurt their reputation or get them onto my neck. I have enough to deal with already without you adding to it.
Deandre: Yes sir.
His words coming across in a mocking tone, Deandre gives him a look so as to say, "you don't have anything to worry about," as Mark mentally whispers "I hope not," but simply gives Deandre a look of acknowledgement.
Mark: Good. Hopefully we can get the name out there and show the world your new path. Let those who may not know just where they can find you and how they can tune into your match with Knox. After all, we want to show IIW why they brought you on board and why you are the man to lead them forward. The star of the show they're looking for.
Deandre simply listens, knowing that more eyes on the product equals more ratings and more money, and although that isn't the reason why he's here, it is certainly a huge plus. Most importantly though, it's his way of proving that he isn't just saying he's committed to the business, but willing to do whatever it takes in order to make sure that the IIW as a whole is elevated by his presence.
Deandre: Of course. There's not a single member of the roster who is going to outwork me. Who is going to be able to say that they put the IIW on the map as much as I will once this is all said and done. How many people do you know that would be willing to put in the work, both inside and outside of the ring to make sure that not only they eat, but that everybody else eats as well?
Nobody.
You know that. I know that and deep down, they know that too. It's what makes this industry special. Going out there and making sure that everybody has our names on their lips. That we are the ones they want to see. The ones who will step forward and carry the torch, with me at the front of the pack. Just as I was on the line for the Tigers. This may be a different path, but the results are going to be the same. No matter what anybody might think about it.
Mark: I know, I know. You're not intimidated by anybody.
Deandre nods, with Mark taking the next portion of his statement before beginning to rise, intending on heading into his lounge and turning on the TV for a bit. See what else is going on in the world, having finished talking about what he needed to with Mark, at least for now.
Deandre; You know it. Mama didn't raise a scared bitch and soon enough, the IIW will see that first hand. I'm not backing down from anybody. Not Knox, not John Cavanagh. Not anybody and the sooner they learn that, the better.
Mark internally laughs, noticing Deandre preparing to walk off.
Mark: Is that all you wanted to talk about?
Deandre shoots him a nod as he walks on past, leaving Mark to ponder some things and pull out his phone from his suit pocket. Planning on calling his assistant to make sure she writes down the times of both the flight and the interview. Deandre, on the other hand, turns right as he walks down his narrow hallway connecting the kitchen to the lounge. Knowing that Mark will likely be leaving and heading to see another client soon enough. For now, it's just about watching TV and getting himself ready for his debut. His first step into the IIW.