Selfish Ideology

Clive Darling: “This isn’t like the other matches you’ve seen me have, son. It might be a little scary for you, but I need to know that you won’t be worried about me. No matter what happens out there, just know that your old man is going to be okay.”


Clive Darling gave his adolescent son a comforting smile as he ruffled the boy’s strawberry-blonde hair.


Clive Darling: “I’ve only got so many fights left in me, and if I don’t start taking these kinds of chances, I may never make it to the big stage. Even if I never get the chance to wrestle under those bright lights, even if this turns out to be my last match, I owe it to those fans and the guys in the locker room to give them everything I have. Do you understand, Nate?”


With a hopeful smile of his own, Nathaniel Darling nodded in response, his father’s encouraging words only making him more excited to see the match that would soon unfold.


Clive Darling: “It’s almost time. Head on back to your seat and we’ll meet back here after the match. Oh, and Nate…”


Clive briefly turned his attention away from his son to retrieve something from his nearby gym bag. Then, continuing to smile, he placed a pair of overly large sunglasses on the boy’s thin face.


Clive Darling: “...don’t forget your lucky glasses.”


With a pat on the shoulder, Clive sent Nate on his way, but the boy stopped at the locker room door to look back at his father.


Young Indy: “Good luck, dad!”


With that, the young Indy Darling returned to ringside so that he wouldn’t miss a second of the elder Darling’s upcoming match, blissfully unaware that it would be the last time he would see his father alive.




“My father was a selfish man. That’s not an easy thing for me to admit, and it probably comes as something of a surprise to anyone hearing me say it. I know I’ve talked about him a lot, and I have a tendency to build up his legend as if he was some kind of saint. Of course he wasn’t. He was human just like the rest of us, with all of those same human flaws we cope with. One of those flaws was his selfishness.”


“When he realized that the end of his career was growing near, he could have chosen to put his unrealized dreams on hold. He could have found new ways to make a living, so that he and his son could have had some semblance of a normal life. Instead, he kept on fighting, right up until the day his heart gave out in the ring. His son became a boy without a father, all because he was too selfish to let go when he saw the writing on the wall.”


“I’m guessing that people are starting to say the same thing about me. One of my first acts as Proving Ground’s General Manager was to put myself in a headlining match against Mark Hunter. I admit, on the surface that seems pretty selfish, a guy on his way out wanting one last shot at the brand’s top champion. After all, with the history Mark and I have, there’s plenty of reasons for me to want the match, but I get the feeling that people aren’t seeing the most important one.”


“It’s not about titles, or glory, or revenge. This time it’s not about me at all. This time it’s all about you, Mark.”




Doc Miyagi: “I just don’t get it, kid. You’ve snagged an injured wrestler’s dream job! I know you planned on having a lot of years in that ring, but injuries like the one you have are not the kind that can be easily fixed.”


With the recent changes in Indy’s situation and with Doc Miyagi’s daughter cleaning up the warehouse gym in order to bring in a profitable business, it only made sense for the retired wrestler and his pupil to tear down their practice ring. For Indy, it was like demolishing a church where he had learned the tenets of life. It wasn’t an enjoyable process to say the least, and Doc’s stubborn line of questioning didn’t make it any easier.


Indy: “Come on, Doc. We both know that The Heartbreaker was in a similar spot, and he kept on wrestling for months! He even dropped the title to Superstar Steve at TussleMania XIV! If that egotistical prick can wrestle with a crushed disc, so can I!”


There was little more than a skeleton of the ring left standing as Indy worked on coiling up the ring ropes while simultaneously deflecting the point his manager was trying to make. Of course, the retired wrestler and recovering heart attack victim did not give up that easily.


Doc Miyagi: “That’s not the point and you know it, Indy! You don’t have to do it! You don’t have a torch to pass on like The Heartbreaker did. You’ve already been given one hell of an opportunity by Rock Johnson with this GM gig. There’s no reason to jeopardize it by getting into the ring with Hunter again!”


Finished with the ring ropes, Indy picked up a nearby socket wrench and turned his attention to one of the steel corner posts.


Indy: “You’re wrong, Doc. I have a very good reason for wanting this match with Mark. I’m just not ready to talk about it yet. The idea in my mind is like a cake in an oven. If I take it out too soon it’s just going to fall apart.”


The old man scowled at his protege’s response, but Indy was too busy loosening bolts to notice.


Doc Miyagi: “Don’t give me that metaphor bullshit! I’m the wizened veteran here, not you!”


With a heavy sigh, Indy turned his attention away from the task at hand and looked at his mentor with the most reassuring smile he could muster.


Indy: “Yeah, I know. It’s just that I need to focus on getting things in order here. If I’m going to fully commit to the GM job, I won’t be back here very often. So one thing at a time, okay? Let’s get this place in order and then I’ll start thinking about laying out my reasons for you and everyone else to hear.”


With defiance, the old man crossed his arms in front of his chest, his sneer lightening along with his resolve.


Doc Miyagi: “Fine, but I swear, if it turns out that you’re doing this out of selfish pride, we’re putting this ring back together just so I can beat some sense into you!”


Indy gave Doc a nod as he chuckled in response, finding himself willing to agree to anything the old man suggested if it meant that he could focus on his work.


Indy: “Deal.”


The scowl on Doc’s face continued to ease up, until an almost genuine look of caring began to appear. At that moment, Indy realized that this symbolic ending of a chapter was threatening to get to the old man as much as it was to him.


Doc Miyagi: “Just promise, once you’re back on the road trying to run that madhouse, you’ll still keep in touch.”


Indy didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He knew that Doc’s request was rhetorical, that the old man knew his surrogate son wasn’t going to cut all ties. Instead, it was Doc’s way of letting Indy know that he cared and that he’d always be welcomed back home.




Sitting atop the warehouse gym in Indianapolis, Indy wanted nothing more than to enjoy watching the impending sunset one final time before heading off to Brazil. While that was his intention when he climbed onto the rooftop, being up there had brought back too many memories. It hadn’t been uncommon for him to cut a promo in that solitary space with the skyline of the city behind him. He had done just that days before winning The X-Factor Championship and again on Christmas Eve. Now, facing the last match he would have in Project: Honor for the foreseeable future, it seemed only right for Indy to do it one more time.


“I know that’s going to be a hard thing for people to accept, that I made this match with Mark Hunter in mind and not myself. After all, the guy already has two wins over me, whether they were through questionable means or not. I’m not going to rehash all of our history, Mark. There’s no need for that anymore. We’re both fully aware of what’s gone down in the past, and dredging it up does nothing to serve the matter at hand.”


Indy mindfully rubs the stubble on his chin as he stares out at the falling sun, its gentle reach for the horizon drawing more near with every passing second.


“With the situation I’m in, a reasonable man would look toward the future. He would spend his days and nights thinking about what it’s going to take to lead Proving Ground into tomorrow, how he can maintain the brand’s position as one of the best wrestling outfits in the world, or how he could help push it even further. I guess a man in my position might even take some time to focus on his injuries and how he’s going to work to put his broken body back together. The thing is, no matter how hard I try, I can’t focus on either of those things until I’ve made one final statement. Like I said, it’s not a statement based on personal glory or acclaim. It’s not some way to add an exclamation point to what little legacy I have. It’s a statement about you, Mark.”


The absence of sunglasses on Indy’s face is almost jarring, yet serves as a solemn reminder that this is not the same man who cut heartfelt promos on championship opponents.


“If this was about titles, I’d have ordered the Grand Championship to be on the line. In my heart, I always knew I could capture that belt, whether it was being held by Dickie Watson or you, Mark. Believing that with all my heart gives me enough peace of mind without having to prove it. I also believe that you could have beaten Dickie without putting your feet on the ropes. I believe that you could have won The Purge Match without sneaking around like a thief in the night. The hardest thing of all to admit, is that you also could have beaten me in the center of the ring without distractions, ref bumps, or shortcuts. For some reason, I actually believe in Mark Hunter. So why in the hell can’t you believe in yourself?”


Indy gives a slight shrug of his shoulders and shakes his head, as if the question he’s posed is beyond his ability to answer.


“I guess I lied just a little when I said I wouldn’t bring up the past, but I’m not doing it to give myself excuses or make those bygone moments a focus of our upcoming match. I only mention them because they paint a picture of the Mark Hunter we’ve all ended up with. Instead of being the guy who can go out and win matches with his God-given talent and in-ring ability, you’ve created this reputation for yourself as a chickenshit who can’t get the job done unless he cheats. Why, Mark? Why are you giving people the satisfaction of being right about you? Why do you give in to their expectations? Why do you insist on being a champion that people will take for granted instead of being a champion that the fans, locker room, and staff can look up to as a symbol of greatness? I’ve watched enough of your matches and been in the ring with you enough times to know that you’re more than you’re willing to show.”


Indy turns his gaze from the pinkish-orange horizon to look directly at the camera, or more specifically, directly at Mark Hunter.


“That’s what this match is about. It’s not about me going out in a blaze of glory. It's not about titles or evening the score. It’s about giving you the opportunity to change the narrative. Everyone already knows that you can beat me if you cheat, but this is your chance to show them that you can beat me without giving in to that selfishness. No, I’m not at the top of my game right now, but I promise you that no matter how bad my back might be, that my heart is just fine. I’ve never been the toughest or smartest wrestler on the card. I’m not the best wrestler no matter how many times I’ve tied that idea into my catchphrase. The one thing I do have, the one thing that made me a successful representative of the X-Factor division, is that I have heart. As corny and cliché as that might sound, it is what it is. I don’t give up and I don’t stop fighting until I have nothing left to give. So if you can put down a guy like me in the center of the ring without tricks or underhanded tactics, what will that say about you?”


“You’re better than anyone gives you credit for, Mark, including yourself. I made this a lumberjack match for a few different reasons. Sure, I want to make it harder for you to cheat your way to a victory, but I also want the eyes of the locker room focused right on you. I’m giving you this stage to show them exactly what kind of a man they have representing them as champion. The rest is up to you.”


Indy’s eyes narrow, showing the importance he’s placed on his contest with Mark Hunter, his focus and determination forcing viewers to momentarily forget the injuries he’s sustained.


“Even if I pull off one last upset and win this match, you have the opportunity to show the brand you’re representing that you are a man of courage, even if it’s having the courage to lose. Maybe that’s why you do the things you’ve done in the past. Maybe you’re afraid of what kind of reputation you’ll earn if the great Mark Hunter gets beaten. To that I ask, is it better to be an undeserving winner or an honorable loser? I guess that’s a matter of opinion. To me, you only have to look at Dickie Watson to get your answer. The guy is respected inside of that ring, but he does more to damage his reputation and alienate himself on Twitter than he could ever do between the ropes. His attitude is why you’ve disrespected him in the past, not his amazing win/loss record. How about me? I’ve lost plenty of matches in Project: Honor, but one thing that I’m proud to claim is the respect of my fans and my peers. It’s not the wins and losses that have people saying “Watson is a dick” or “Indy is a good guy”. Then there’s you, Mark, with your reputation as a paper champion, a guy that can’t get it done without breaking the rules. They say you're cocky, brash, and arrogant. There's nothing wrong with that. They also say you're lucky or opportunistic. We both know there's a lot more to Mark Hunter than either of those things. So here’s your chance. Be the man you want to be deep down in the pit of your soul, not the prick you've been putting on display. Win or lose, go out and change the fucking narrative.”


“I know we don’t like each other, and we probably never will. That’s fine, because not everyone in the locker room is going to be your best friend. Still, I hope you understand where I’m coming from and what I’m trying to offer you. Take it from someone who’s walking into every match knowing that it might be his last. Being a champion is about giving everything you have to be the best. That way when the end finally comes, whether you’re ready for it or not, you’re able to hold your head up high with pride, knowing that you were as good as you could possibly be.”


Indy pauses to take one last look at the sun as it pushes itself behind the edge of the world. If the setting sun represents the end of his own in-ring career, it is lost on Indy as he remains focused on Proving Ground’s Grand Champion.


“One way or another, the issues between us end at Public Execution in front of a jury of our peers. I’ll either beat some honor into you, or you’ll show everyone in the locker room that they only need to cheat better than you to be the champion. I’ll accept whatever outcome we have, and then I’ll move on to leading this brand to the best of my ability. It would just be nice to know that I’ve got a real “Straight Shooter” in my corner. This time being better than Indy Darling isn’t just good enough, Mark. It’s being a better version of yourself that matters most.”


He turns his head away from the camera, leaving the remainder of his thoughts on his upcoming match a mystery to all but himself. As the light of day continues to fade, so too does the image of the former X-Factor Champion and Proving Ground General Manager.