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Neville Sinclair · (06-28-2017)

April 2, 1801

Lord Nelson stands at his bow, watching as the chaos unfolds. The Danish fleet had set up a blockage and the British fleet wasn’t allowed to enter. Outnumbered, Nelson knew that this could be it. The HMS Agamemnon had run aground, the HMS Russell and HMS Bellona were badly damaged. But this couldn’t be it, could it?

Damn

The low flying batteries had just started firing. The fleet was taking major damage. The firing came heavier, gun smoke filled the air. Lord Nelson took a deep breath in and tried to separate the smell of the ocean from the gunsmoke. This was why he did it. Anybody could win a battle on land, all that took was manpower and a study of terrain. They had it easy. But a Naval battle was something completely different. A Naval battle was a tactical chess match on the chaotic waters. Who could tell what the ocean would do? The very ground they fought on could change at any time and swallow them all whole.

I regret nothing

As the guns picked up, the HMS rocked more and more. The Danes were an awful bunch, constantly trying to change strategy to win battles. But Lord Nelson knew that the tougher the opponent, the more he himself had to step up in charge. To defeat a greater enemy, it required greater ideas and courage. That was it. Nelson would be lying if he said there were no nerves involved. But he was a bull-headed bastard, and the more he watched his fleet take damage, the more he resolved he needed to destroy this group. If he lost, he would go down in honour. But he’d never back down. Quitting was not an option. Victory was his and his alone.

Never Surrender
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June 28, 2017

The majority of the people in the building were museum guards. Off in a play exhibit there were a couple of kids and their parents trying to keep themselves entertained and quiet. But for the most part, the building was pretty empty. Tommaso Albinoni’s Concerto in B Flat played quietly as background music.

Neville Sinclair and his butler Hugh stood in the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, London admiring a blue suit tucked nicely in the corner. On the wall stood pictures of 19th century naval fleets and famous battles were chronicled in sequential order. Neville noticed a small hole in the corner of the suit as it stood.

So this was the bullet hole that finally ended Lord Nelson’s life. Can you imagine what could have happened had he lived even longer?

The two men stood silently some more taking in the gravitas of what they were seeing. Lord Nelson was more than a man, he was a hero. A stubborn, bull-headed genius whose tactics led the British Navy to unreached heights. This was a man Neville admired. As the camera moved in closer to get some of the quieter conversation, Neville turns and acknowledges it.

Hello and welcome to one of my favourite places in the world. I’ve brought you here because most of you don’t know the first thing about the great history this country was built on. Look at this place, holding some of the greatest artifacts and stories ever told, and yet here it sits empty. It’s a shame, a damn shame. Kids are too busy off playing video games, most adults are out trying to drink all the pain out of their lives, and no one can admire true greatness. This is the world we live in.

Neville shakes his head as he tries to finish his thought

Don’t get me wrong, I feel like people are starting to get it. There is a new excitement around the world for real stories and people desire to know more. Look at the new advent of the Discovery Channel, people desire to know more. The thirst for knowledge is slowly creeping back up as the world is dumbing down. I feel like we are seeing a microcosm of that in the XWF right now. People are looking to Neville Sinclair to save things. Trying to listen to over half of the roster talk is like listening to a Nickelback album – loud, boring and repetitive. And that’s why I’ve come. Last week, I was put into a match with 3 other morons, and look what’s happened. Brian Harris was DOA, Matty Courage has gone MIA, and Drezdin will never be the same again. In my first match I was able to purge the XWF of three weak-minded idiots who barely showed up to the fight. This is just the beginning.

Neville smiles as he thinks of last week’s match. He visualizes the win again. 1… 2… 3… It felt good to be back doing this.

In many ways I find myself relating to Lord Nelson. I desire to be the same kind of stubborn bastard as he was. As the battles got tougher, the man got more determined. He went into battles as a gentleman and came out a warrior, all the while never compromising on who he was and allowing that to bring him greatness. It was never the size of the Navy that assured him victory but the strength of his decision-making. I feel that’s a lesson the entire roster of the XWF needs to learn. You can be big, you can be scary, you can puff up like a peacock and try to act tough, but ultimately everything comes down to decision-making. Brains and decision-making wins, gimmicks don’t. I’m so tired of seeing people hired simply on how they look or how big they are. They parade around acting like this decades Hulk Hogan, but they have a brain the size of a peanut. So I’ve come here in an effort to tell everyone they need to step their games up. Think about what you’re saying, try to engage in intelligent discussion, stop simply shouting words at each other that your parents never let you say. Read a damn book once in awhile. Get out of your mom’s basement for 10 minutes and go experience the world. This is how I aim to save things. But I know it’s going to be a battle, I know that stupidity won’t go down without a fight.

Neville moves from the Lord Nelson Corridor of the museum into giant room in the middle of the building. Replicas of boats sit all around him, paintings of famous naval commanders litter the walls. The whole place seems a bit… majestic.

So this week I get to fight for a title. My second fight, and I already might have gold around my waist. How many can say that? Maybe my rise to the top might be faster than even I expected. But I know I belong here. This isn’t a mistake or an accident. If there’s anything I can prove on Saturday, it’s that I belong in the title picture, and one day I aim to be the person everyone thinks of when they think on XWF. The only thing standing in my way right now is two people – both very talented in their own right, but distinctly fallible. Jack Cain and Jenny Myst, please allow me to show you why you’ll be in the fight but victory will be mine.

Neville moves to a picture of the HMS Bismarck on the wall

Now Jenny, I was entirely looking forward to facing you this week. I had heard some of your previous stuff, and I genuinely had respect for you. But listening to you speak this week, I have a special lesson for you.

Beauty does not win Battles

I must say of all the XWF superstars, you might be one of the most disappointing. You parade around at photo shoots like a weak female stereotype only to boast on your own beauty and how that’s all that matters. I just have to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry that society has failed women so much that when they finally get to a place of showing themselves to be strong and intelligent, all they can think about is their own looks. Jenny, you had a real chance to show us something amazing. You had a chance to flaunt your strength or flaunt your intelligence. Instead you brag on being “XWF’s newest Television Champion, and the hottest one they’ve ever had.” Thank you for showing your true colours Jenny, thank you for showing us what really matters. You’re the “Baywatch” when the world needs “Wonder Woman.”

Neville buries his face in his hands for a second pondering where to go from here

You are single handedly the reason this world needs more feminism, but I’d bet that doesn’t matter to you because you “look great in pink”. Which brings me to the 10 seconds I heard you speaking on me. When your worst insults are “Isn’t Scotch Scottish? Don’t the English hate Scottish People. I’ve seen Braveheart”” I truly feel the need to try and educate you. The whole thing felt like an episode of “Kim Kardashian gives her thoughts on England”, which I’m sure is a show some awful network will one day produce. I’ll speak simply so you understand Jenny, England and Scotland are now part of what’s called the “United Kingdom”. We serve the same Queen, and Braveheart took place over 300 years ago. We might have our disagreements now, but many differences have been settled over 300 years. When you get your historical knowledge from a Mel Gibson movie, you need even more help than I think I can give you. Which brings me to my next point, what the hell does that rant even have to do with anything? Am I less imperialistic, I’ll give you a second to look up that word, because I drink an alcoholic drink from another country? Seriously, that’s what you bring? That’s your championship-level banter? Scotch is a rich, unique drink that many connoisseurs, you can look that one up too, drink because they consider it the most complex alcohol in the world. But I guess you wouldn’t know that with your pool-party Palm-bay-drinking drunk-woooo-inducing perfectly-shaped ass.

Neville looks up at the photo

Do you want to know why I stopped here. The HMS Bismarck fought years later in World War II. The Bismarck was supposed to be one of the finest ships in the British Navy. But it got destroyed because it foolishly went into a battle it had no business being in and ended up being one of England’s greatest Naval embarrassments. I have to think it kind of reminds me of you, Jenny. Looks aren’t everything, you can have it all together on the outside, but at the end of the day you have to be smart enough to battle. I’m sure before it went down, the HMS Bismarck was polished perfectly. I’m sure every man on that boat had their uniforms on perfectly. You can look perfect all you want, but the second you get hit with the bullet it’s all over. Concentrate on being smart enough to avoid getting hit with the bullet, don’t spend all your time on preparing the perfect body for it to hit. You hear me Elle Woods?

Neville then moves over to a picture of the British Navy. About 50 men stand posing for one of the earliest pictures. There is clearly an element of rank to the grouping of men.

This brings me to you Jack Cain. I was actually grateful that you spent more time talking to me than Jenny Myst did this week. You’re the champion, you’re the benchmark behind which we all need to set ourselves. But at the same time, you got it all wrong. Let me tell you why.

There are Millions just like you

Neville brings out his wallet and pulls out a wad of bills. There’s a couple of hundreds, and a number of twenties wadded up into a pile. Neville finds the family trying to keep their children quiet and hands them the wad of cash. They stand speechless and try to give it back, but Neville shoots them a look and they walk off pleased.

You only focused on the money. You spent the entire time rambling on something that really matters very little to me. Money doesn’t matter. When we’re talking about the greatness of Neville Sinclair, I don’t want to be remembered for being rich. I don’t want to be remembered for my house, the possessions I own, or how much money I’ve accumulated. What I really want is to be the self-made man who could think his way into fame and fortune. Here’s the difference between me and you, Cain. I’m the guy who’s made something of himself. Money is a benchmark of achievement for me, money is the symbol for me having made it. But it can all go away, I don’t need it. It’s not the reason or my purpose in life. Which brings me to you, why don’t you have any? The reason I have money is because people feel I contribute something to society. I feel like this television championship might be your pinnacle achievement. I’d actually feel bad to take it away, but you need to step up. Guys like you are a dime a dozen, the tough-talking, meat-and-potatoes tough SOB’s that enjoy inflicting pain on others. That’s nothing to be proud of, it’s nothing to brag about. Even in trying to read your opponent, you’ve completely missed the mark.

Neville looks at the picture closer

The majority of men in this picture, no one will remember their names. The tough guys like you never move past the ranks that they’re given. Instead they’re usually on the front lines getting shot up for bigger purposes. Cenotaphs everywhere contain names with no stories. We remember them, but don’t know a thing about them. They are the dead that line our fields of battle. When I get done with you this week Jack Cain, you’re going to just be another name. People will look back at the television championship and remember you as nothing but a blip. You’re not even interesting enough to remember. Keep being tough, keep wallowing in darkness, keep missing the point of what really matters in this business. Greatness is recognized, and I will take that belt from you. Even Jenny Myst had a bigger personality than you. But I guess it doesn’t matter to you does it? Care about nothing, and you’ll achieve nothing. So congratulations on this high point in your life, you’re 39 with no money, purpose or direction, so I’m sure it’s only downhill from here.
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Lord Nelson shudders, that last bullet was too close. But he could see something in the distance. He knew what was coming. Nelson raises his telescope to his right eye, and the flag of retreat waves in the distance

Damn

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