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Dangerous Intentions
#1- Painted Targets
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It's 3AM on Monday morning. It's only been a mere few hours since I left the Yubileiny Sport Palace in St. Petersburg, Russia. The Soviet Union. A place where I thought I'd never return. A place, I can say for the first time in my career, I wish I hadn't returned to.
For those of you who are wonder just who "I" am, I am Tommy Danger. I have been in this circle of wrestling since 1991. Tonight, my body feels all those miles, all those matches, all those bumps. I was left bloodied, battered, broken and dumped in the cold and worst yet. Beaten.
Yet I am not...
...defeated.
Let me give you a little history lesson. It was in the winter of 1995 when I first came to the USSR. I was in a battle not only with the world champion of the Continental Wrestling Federation, but with myself. An inner turmoil that had been brewing since I first stepped foot in the squared circle. On a cold snowy night, not unlike this one I now look out the window at, when I faced the iron masked monster of Siberia.
I was told by my closest friends not to do it. Not to get in the ring. They said I wasn't ready. I was warned by my enemies not to do it. Not to get into that ring. They too said I wasn't ready. They all were right. That night, like this night, I was left bloodied, battered, broken and beaten. But not...
...defeated.
You see, as I stare at my own reflection right here and right now, I see that same man in the mirror I did near ten years ago. The bruises may be the different. The pain may hurt just a little more and the opponent I was beaten by may have been different, but for the second time in my life I have come to realize ... that they were right.
A man named Devante Anderson wanted to test me. Wanted to beat me and make a name for himself. At any cost. He turned his back on his fans. His friends and aligned himself with the power of the company. And he did what he set out to do. He did what he promised. He beat Tommy Danger. He stepped out of my shadow. But...
...he didn't defeat me.
And now, here I sit. Watching the softness of the snowflakes that fall to the sill just outside my half frosted window. My body hurts. My heart longs to be home. Away from here.
Yet, for all that I have suffered returning here, losing to a former world champion, then having to once more face my Siberian nightmare I take solace in the fact that the one thing bestowed upon me that no one can take away is a...
...painted target.
You see, that is why they come after me. That is the one thing that gets me up each and every day. It's the one thing that forces me to go through a daily wrapping ritual of a badly injured wrist each and every evening. It's the one thing that defines the man they call Tommy Danger. It also defines his intentions.
They may call me a legend. They may call me a hero. They may call me one of the best. I won't argue. I won't complain. I won't stop believing in that ... until that painted target is gone.
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