The company men.

by Pure Mcclure February 2nd 2013, 5:40 pm

A history of Mitch McClure;

It’s been an interesting time. Sunday will mark one month since I walked in to NLWF. One month, that’s hard to believe as I already have history with most of the real players in the company. People have started to take notice of me. It hasn’t gone to plan, but not for lack of trying.

I entered the battle royal, something I’m definitely not familiar with and I showed that I can hang with the big guys. I took out that wannabe Patrick Willis, and he has bigger things to worry about anyway and then I moved on to Psycho in an opportunistic moment, but then Cyrus and O’shea took me out. They pulled one over on me, and whether it was inexperience, naivety or just purely two being better than one, I should have picked my spots better, but lesson learnt.

So I didn’t achieve Ultimate Glory – but I did make a statement and I found myself at PRIDE in a singles match with Jimbo Slice, another embarrassment on the sport I love. I took him out, but that’s enough about him, I did everybody in the NLWF a favour by sending him back... wherever it is he came from. That wasn’t enough for me though, I decided to take a spot in the tag title tournament and again, along with Psycho, people took notice.

Betterman thinks he is an opportunist, well I’m an opportunist. He’s wrong!

Adamson talks smack, thinks he is the best Australian in the place, wrong again!

So it’s my friends Cyrus and O’Shea again – what a match, we showed some respect which is exactly what I’m here for, and we battled, man did we battle but at the end of the day, our team was better than theirs. But that’s where the teamwork ended, Robbie Hart & Hostyle Jones took advantage and again, despite the impressive showing, it wasn’t enough.

But I’ve got a spot at Tournament to the Title... and this time, a spot is all I need. You’ve got to be in it to win it, and that’s exactly where I’m headed. This tournament is full of the big names, and my name will be the biggest of the lot, when the show closes. I can see it, I can feel it.

--

The morning before Tournament to the Title
9am – Again, the first in the arena.

Scene opens with McClure sitting in an empty ring, empty arena, with his headphones on. He is rested against the bottom rope with his eyes closed. You can see the thoughts running through his head, there is a genuine intensity in the air, McClure is switched on... he is focused. A few moments go by before from the entrance way walks his father, somewhat calmer than the last time we seen him.

Bill McClure: “Mitch.... MITCH”

Mitch opens his eyes and notices his father in the ring, he takes the head phones down...

Mitch McClure: “Dad, I’m thinking here..”

Bill McClure: “Why aren’t you training?”

Mitch McClure: “The time for trainings over, nobody is in better shape than me. Nobody”

Bill McClure: “What are you thinking about?”

Mitch McClure: “Getting the job done, being in the battle at every moment... Winning”

Bill McClure: “Alright, I’ll leave you to it, just thought I would let you know, I couldn’t find those scumbag owners, but I did find a ticket scalper and I’ll be sitting in the front row mate. Don’t worry, I won’t jump the fence no matter what happens, but I will be taking notes. Be your best, and I’m confident you’ll take home the win”

Bill makes his way out of the ring and begins to walk backstage, leaving Mitch in the ring behind, Mitch reaches for the head phones, but then puts them to the side. He stands up, walks across the ring and makes his way to the back as well to bring the scene to an end.

--

The Last Say; Shoot.

Mitch McClure: "The Man. The Myth. The Legend. The Lord. The Saviour. The Holy One. The Almighty. The Barenaked Ladies. The King. The Queen. The Freak. The Company Man. The God. The End. Cyrus, I’ve heard your words, you’ve thrown them around like a guy who has truly done it all in the past, and you have... in the past.

In Australia, only the top, top guys in Wrestling can make what you would call a living from it. There isn’t the money, or the competition. Towards the end of my time there, I was the top guy. I was the guy who could earn a living but I still didn’t have a “driver”. I don’t know what it’s like to sit in a limousine. I might not have had the women all fighting for my attention, because I didn’t want it.

But Cyrus, you do, don’t you. You’ve made it, you’re the man right. You speak like you’re the man. But to me, you sound like The Company Man and everyone hates The Company Man. In my early days in Wrestling, I had a real job in marketing, hundreds of staff and you could tell the people that were going to get the promotions.... The Company Men.

They couldn’t do the job like I can. They couldn’t physically or mentally perform the duties of the job in the way that I can. They could make a better coffee than me. They could shine shoes better than me, they did their hair better than mine and they sure as hell kissed arse better than me. When a spot opened up, The Company Men were there, while I was busy being the best at the job.

Then, when a few of the Company Men get together, they’re shit at their jobs, everyone hates them, but they all love one another, pay compliments, roll in their little cliques in limousines, with drivers, and have brunches, lunches, dinners and desserts all the while ignoring the guys who are the BEST at the job. My figures didn’t lie in that job, like they don’t lie in my history in Wrestling, but I’ll never be the company man Brenton...

I would have never believed I would come across this in the wrestling world. But Brenton, that’s where we are. You’re the company man, and everybody hates you, except the other company men. Because most of us know we’re better than you, when it comes down to it, in the ring, we’re better. Psycho is better, Shark is Better, King is better, I... am... better. But that’s the thing about Company Men, they always find a way to screw the guy that is better at his job. That’s not complaining, its fact, but you won’t find a way in round one Cyrus. You’re thinking about the big picture. If you win by Warrior Games you become the ultimate Company Man. Don’t tell me about your love for the business – Don’t patronise me with your bullshit about Ali and yourself hoping to return this to a respectable product. Fuck off Cyrus.

I don’t like Silva and Vestieri as much as the next guy – but an active member of the Roster running the show. Please Cyrus, you seen how that worked with Kevin Nash in WCW in the 90’s, they’re in the can, just like NLWF was some time ago. Leave it up to those who know how to do the job, not the company men, Brenton.

I’ve been naive in my time here, I’m guilty of that to an extent, but a guy with your experience is naive to say that in our match, we will go beyond wrestling, in to a fight and that I will not... not once get you to the ground. Please Brenton... Please. I’m ready for it though Cyrus, I’m ready to fight if I need to. I’ll scrap, Ill fracas, I’ll brawl, I’ll battle but in the end, it is Wrestling, where I will win. I’m glad you think you’re methodical, because thats my game and in a battle of wits, you’ve already lost.

Sara, Alison... you can’t even win a battle of wits with those bitches. You have a therapist. A therapist, and you think you’re methodical. You’re delusional. So while you’re riding in limo’s with therapists and drivers and chauffeurs and personal groomers and doormen, you’ve made it Cyrus. But you forget what it’s like to be the young guy. The hungry guy who has nothing to lose.

See, if I lose to you Cyrus – everyone will say how I put in a good show. Everyone will talk about how I went toe to toe with a so called immortal and lived to tell the story. But if you lose to me Brenton, well, the rumours start circling. Is he too old? Has he passed his prime? It would sure seem that way, after you couldn’t get the job done in the battle royal, or at PRIDE with your other company men friend Aaron O’Shea.

Why would Tournament to the Title be different Brenton? Why would you show more tonight, than you have the past month? Is it because of your training, your years of training in every fighting style from pillow fights to lingerie battles. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter what you know, how long you’ve been doing it. You can know every style in the world... perhaps you’ve heard of being a Jack of All Trades, but a master of none.

I am a master of one. The most important one. You called it, we best prepare for a fight to the death. Well I’m here now, I’m ready. I’ve prepared psyically, I’ve watched tapes of every match you’ve had. I truly do know what you have to offer, but you’ve seen me in a months worth of wrestling and you think you have it all worked out. My arsenal is broad, the barrage is coming. I won’t be swallowed by the NLWF and scared, don’t insult me.

I know this place is full of nut cases, people who disrespect the industry that made them, for it’s the industry I respect. Not any one company.. and I love when Americans bring up Rugby League and talk about us as soft. What I would give to bring you guys out on to that field. You know what I am so physically perfect?.. In Rugby League every match is eighty minutes. Every match.

We don’t wear pads. We don’t stop and start every play. It’s action... For eighty minutes, collision after collision, running over one hundred metres with men the size of giants. The physical demands of Rugby League are far and beyond those of the wrestling ring. In comparison, I find Wrestling easy, which is why I am so good at it. If you want to talk shit Brenton, come out and experience it. It’s not a small square ring with one man. It’s a big field, straight on to the ground with thirteen men. It’s not a game your pretty little face would like. Take my word.

It will be me that brings some Respect to NLWF. Not you. I don’t follow, I lead, and when I sit a top the perch in the NLWF, I will lead the company to a better place. I can’t stand it now, but I’m driven to repair it... not for the fans, not for the ‘fighters’, but for the industry. For me, for my father, for the thousands of Wrestlers that have done justice to this industry before us.

It’s time for you to evolve and adapt again Cyrus, in to a retiree, or a valet, or a commentator, because your time in the ring is more limited than ever before. It’s hilarious to hear that I disgust someone here in the NLWF. It truly is. Of all the people you can be disgusted by here, it’s me Cyrus and told you tell me that the NLWF brought fame and fortune upon me.

I did that.

It wasn’t the NLWF out there winning those matches, beating those guys. It was me. It’s the NLWF that should show me Respect, not the other way round. Unbeknownst to them, I am the best thing to sign a contract in this fucking place. The best. Don’t tell me about the Anarchy era, I have eyes Cyrus, I can see. I tell it how it is, you interpret it as whining.

Your pussy whipped by bitches you’ve cheated on but still love, boo-fucking-hoo Brenton. I don’t understand Anarchy? I understand it. While you chase tail, I chase victories. The only person you’ve beat since I’ve been here is a man who celebrates his fiftieth birthday soon, oh what, it ended in a draw. Have you won lately Brenton?

So who exactly is it who has failed. Me you say. Failed to impress anyone you say. Well why I am here? Why am I in the Tournament to the Title. Why did your company boyfriend O’Shea chant my name at the end of our match. Why did I main event PRIDE whilst you were hitting the showers? WHY Brenton... WHY?

I’m not going anywhere. The company puts me in the Tournament because they must think, what I already know. It’s not what the fans think – they can call me boring, they can chant it from the roof tops because I do one thing. I sell tickets. There will be people here tonight Brenton and yeah, they’ll chant your name, hell, they’ll suck your dick if you want them to cos you’re the man right...

But they all want to see me. They want to see who will be the guy to knock me out... I’ve done more for the NLWF in ticket sales and Pay Per View buys than any other man in his first month in a company. I’m not the kind of guy who let NLWF die Cyrus. I wasn’t here... but you were. I don’t stand up to the things I hate by talking tough like you, I stand up to them in the ring. Like a man. No backstage attacks, No getting my band of merry company men to do work for me. I do it, in the ring. The way things should be sorted.

You want me to beat you? Done. I’ll happily move on to Psycho, I have unfinished business with him too. Don’t blame the Tag Team format on your loss Cyrus, blame your ability. Maybe instead of talking tough, you should be in the gym. Maybe instead of riding in limos, private jets and going to exclusive A-List parties, you should be running the ropes. That’s where I’ve been.

I can’t wait to see the look on your face when it’s all said it done. I expect some humility Brenton.
...You keep going back to Respect too. You respect Psycho. What do you respect about him Brenton, his ability to backstab someone. That’s respectable. His ability to literally try and kill people – thats murder, not respectable or is the fact he dug up his fucking mothers skull! A fucking skull, out of the ground, oh... that’s respectable.

Psycho isn’t one of your company men Brenton. The only reason you tell the fans you respect him, is because you hope he will have some mercy on you if you ever cross his path. Luckily, that won’t be your concern at Tournament to the Title, that will be my problem and whilst I believed I could Respect Psycho at PRIDE, I was soon proved wrong, and I sure as hell don’t take a backwards step is saying the Respect is gone.

He can earn it back. When we tear the house down in the second round and he shakes my hand, humble in defeat as I head to the finale. The fear in your voice Brenton when you talk about Psycho is laughable... you have a tremor. I see through your tactics, you say ‘we’, and ‘lets give’ as if you are working with Psycho towards something. Where does working with Psycho get someone? I know where it leaves you.

Stop talking about Respect Brenton, just saying the word, doesn’t mean you know what it is.
You’re a broken record Brenton. You’ve tried to shoot me down with the same shit fourty-five times. I complain. I cant hang in your ring. I wont survive in the NLWF. It’s survival of the fittest you said. Well fuck BC, there’s not a man fitter than me. If you wanted to fuel the fire, and bring the best out in me, consider it done. I’ve never been keener.

I’m not thinking about women. I’m not talking about being the best. I’m training to be the best. Now is my time. If you needed one line in your six hours of dribble to get my attention, it was when you even mentioned me in the same sentence as betterman, let alone compared me to him and said he has impressed you more than me. Luckily, I don’t care what impresses Brenton Cyrus, you can’t go back to your blonde slut, if she wants you and let her impress you.

The only person I care about, is me. End of story.

Right now, BC is doing damage. Damage to his career, for a man in your position, talking the smack you talk will look awfully stupid after its said and done. If I were to be beaten at some point during Tournament to the Title, they would say I’m brash, I’m a bit of a punk – but for your, they would say you’ve had it.

Everyone has failed before the tournament starts BC? ... If you say so, my lord. For it doesn’t matter who fails before the tournament in my eyes, it only matter who fails IN the tournament, and after you fail again, like you did at Ultimate Glory, like you did at PRIDE you best stop talking shit. Your record from the past can only drag your sorry arse so far, stop riding your own coat tails, step out and realise that there is a new breed coming through here and you’ve got to face the best two of them, back to back to even dream of making the final. That’s suggesting you could beat the first one. Me.

Then, for me, its Betterman or Psycho. Well, really, its Psycho.

I have little to say about this guy, that hasn’t already been said. He know what I can bring to the table, and I know what he can do. I would ask some men in this industry to meet me in the ring for a respectable, one on one wrestling match, and despite your knowledge of wrestling Psycho, you are not one for a respectable match. We’re in for an old fashioned throw down... and I can’t wait.

I assume your big bad kidnappers will let you out to face up to your obligations at the Tournament. The only reason you could beat me, is that when we look across at each other in round two, I’ve just gone toe to toe with Cyrus in a first round classic, ready for a second round classic. You’ve strolled through a round one massacre and you’re fresh. That’s your advantage.

But that’s your only advantage.

Your disadvantage is your fitness.

Your Diet.

Your Mental State.

Your Physical ability.

It must be a real circus inside that head of yours. After the beatings you’ve taken the last fifteen years, I’m surprised you don’t just black out mid match, but its bound to happen one day and we can only hope it’s not against Betterman, because his sneaky arse wouldn’t miss a beat in pinning you Psycho. It only takes three seconds. But you should be aware of that, as at Ultimate Glory, it was just three seconds I had you rolled up for and you were heading to the showers.

It won’t be that easy this time. I know. But I only need one moment. One single moment.

I don’t ask for a respectable match with you this time around Psycho, I don’t. The only thing I ask is after I beat you, if I haven’t broken your legs or ankles and you can still walk, be man enough to let me go through to the final without one of your bullshit stunts. No trucks. No Canes. No fucking shit. Understand the fact you were beaten, and let me go on to take what’s mine. Hell, I’ll even give you a shot at it some time.

Our side of the draw, truly is where it should be won and lost, but possibly, and only possibly it wont be won by someone on our side, because those of us who can thrown down, will have beaten one another so bad that the monkeys on the other side of the draw will be fresh. Their matches could be OK, don’t get me wrong, but will anyone walk the path I walk to the final?

They couldn’t dream of it.

They wouldn’t dream of it.

Nobody else here could accomplish what I’m setting out to do. I’m climbing Everest, and that’s what it takes, so that’s what I’ll do. I will reach the summit of NLWF. Today.

Pure & Simple."

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