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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » High Stakes Battle Royale RP Board
Soft Deadline The Multi-Sport Athlete
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Champ Sportsman Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
10-24-2020, 09:46 PM

"The season's over, Champ."

Champ Sportsman stood before Ronnie McDowell, the manager of the Orlando Bloom baseball team, a broken man. He'd suffered defeat at the hands of many opponents before, whether it be in the pros, college, or high school, but he'd always been able to at least fight them. But this was different, there was no winning against the Covid pandemic that had plagued a plethora of sporting organizations, and had now doomed the 2020 Association of Baseball season.

McDowell could read the disappointment in Sportsman's vacant stare. "We had a good run, kid." His heart hurt nearly as much as Champ's, the whole team's did.

"That's what gets me the most, coach," Champ finally spoke with a deep breath. "It was a good run, why did it have to end like this?"

McDowell looked at the lockeroom floor and chuckled, putting his hand on Champ's shoulder. "Lord only knows, kid," Without another word, the manager put his hands in his pockets and walked off into the sunset, chomping on his gum with frustration over the circumstances at hand.

Champ packed up his locker and made his way to the press conference that awaited him. He'd never dreaded speaking to the media as much as he did at that very moment. What does he say? The team had the best record in the league and were looking to win the National Series for the first time since 1993, and now they were left no better off than the last place Minnesota Bears. Champ himself was on pace to set the record for most strikeout in a season, and his teammate, Bradley Jones, was leading the Home Run race. Now all of that was moot, useless numbers in a pointless season.

Champ entered the media room and walked to podium, setting his duffle bag on the floor. "As I'm sure you've already heard by now, the season's been canceled," Sportsman said with a frown. "We've all worked our asses off all year, and for everything to end prematurely is a damn shame."

Champ could feel himself getting emotional, a feeling he did his best to fight back against. It wasn't easy for him, he'd been a fierce competitor since he was a young boy. Whether he was playing a game of pickup basketball with his friends at the park, or competing for the Ultra Bowl his rookie year, Sportsman hated the thought of losing. Sports was his life, hell, it was his name and he intended to live up to it like the champ his parents expected him to be.

The sea of reporters' hands shot up in the air, sinking Champ's mood even deeper. He didn't want to answer any questions, he would've preferred to be at home wallowing into a glass of scotch on the rocks with a hint of tears. But this was all part of the job, one that paid him handsome and ensured he'd never be without life's essentials ever again. The least he could do was obligate his contract and pay his last respects to the season that could have been.

Champ picked out a female reporter from the front row, Megan Reno. She was an avid fan of Champ's and had done many one on one interviews with him in the past. It was also fair to say that he was an avid fan of her, too, as he usually would call on her after every game, win or lose.

Miss Reno stood up and asked her question. "Is this worse than missing out on the playoffs, or losing in the US Series?"

Her questions were always tough, but fair, and he answered it honestly. "This is the worst moment of my career, baseball or otherwise. It's worse than any loss or injury I've EVER suffered and I don't know how to deal with it. I feel lost. We had a good team and it wasn't enough, not because we sucked or didn't have the heart, but because we never got the chance. THAT sucks."

Champ's need to tell the truth had gotten him worked up, again, this time shining clear as day. He tried to fake a smile, but it wasn't fooling anyone in the room. "Any other questions?"

He expected twenty hands to raise up simultaneously, but to his surprise, there wasn't a single one. The somber mood of the room told Champ all he needed to know, as the reporters looked to one another and nodded in agreement.

"We'll see you next season, Champ," a reporter in the center of the room said as him and his colleagues stood up and left the pitcher to his thoughts, waving to him with sympathy as they exited. He'd gained the respect of the city and they weren't about to kick their hero while he was already down.

Sportsman took his bag and left the arena, doing his best to keep his head held high. He walked through the empty halls, once packed wall to wall with adoring fans, now reduced to a ghost town. The parking lot was no better, a barren wasteland sans a few of his teammates' and stadium workers' cars. However, as he made his way over to his cherry blossom Charger, he was stopped by a familiar voice of the XWF universe, Big D.

"Are you Champ Sportsman?" D asked, already knowing the answer.

Champ turned around and looked over the co-General Manager of Savage obliviously. "Yes," he responded, squinting at the superstar. "Who are you?"

Big D clutched his chest and acted like he was dying. "Ouch, that one fuckin' hurt," he joked. "Though not as bad as your season ending............"

Champ sighed, knowing it was too good to be true that he'd be able to go home undisturbed. "Look, I've had a long day and the last thing I need is to be heckled by some ungrateful fan!"

"Oh, I'm no fan, Mr. Sportsman, at least not in the conventional sense," Big D chuckled. "I'm a potential employer."

Champ raised an eyebrow, taken aback by D's words. "Sorry, I'm not interested in mowin' lawns or baggin' groceries."

Now it was Big D who was taken aback by Champ's audacity. "Mr. Sportsman, my name is Big D and I represent the XWF as one of their General Managers..........." D reached into his pocket and handed a, surprisingly professional looking, card to him. "I'd like you to come work for us."

"XWF?" Champ questioned, looking over D's card. "The wresting company?"

Champ wasn't unfamiliar with XWF, he watched a casual amount of it, with his father, growing up. As someone who competed mostly in team sports, the idea of a win or a loss resting entirely on your shoulders appealed to him quite a bit. Unfortunately for the world of wrestling, other sports took precedence over rolling around in tights, and Champ eventually stopped paying attention to XWF altogether.

"Yes, the wrestling company," Big D responded, holding out a contract.

Champ looked at it in disbelief, unsure if this was legit or a bad practical joke on an even worse day. "You know I'm not a wrestler, right?"

"Nobody's a wrestler................... until they become one!" D explained, insisting Sportsman take the contract.

Champ laughed, turning away from D and heading back towards his car. "Sorry, not interested interested."

A persistent Big D chases after Sportsman, standing in the way of his driver side door. "Why not? Last I heard, your schedule just opened up for the next three or so months!"

An irritated Champ puffed his chest out to intimidate the former Internet Champion, but backed off upon realizing he was right. "Look, man, I just wanna go home." a tired Sportsman exhaled.

"And do what, cry into a glass of bourbon?" D harshly asked, nearly hitting Champ's plans right on the dot.

"Not exactly.........."

A sympathetic Big D placed his hand upon Champ's shoulder, just as his manager had done earlier. "You're a competitor, Champ," he reassured the multi-sport athlete. "You don't do it for the money, fancy cars, or even the beautiful women.................. you do it because being the best is in your blood! No matter what the venture, whether it be baseball, football, or something else...................if it's not 100%, it's ZERO................ that's why you're so torn up over the season ending like it did, because you're no better off now than you were in training camp!"

Champ politely grabbed at Big D's hand and slide it off his shoulder, feeling no better now than he did five minutes ago. "Remember when I told you I just wanted to go home and didn't wanna be insulted?"

"I didn't come here to insult you," Big D insisted. "I came here to motivate you."

Sportsman rolled his eyes, looking up at the clear blue sky and wondering why he hasn't called for security yet. "Motivate me? To be a wrestler?!?"

"Yep," a slick D responded through pursed lips. "You're gonna need a non-alcoholic outlet to take out your frustration on, and what better place to do that than XWF?"

Champ laughed, pondering if Big D had lost his mind, while also questioning the same thing about himself. He'd been left speechless.

"You've done MMA before, you were 3-1, right?" D asked in an attempt to further prove his point.

"5-0."

Big D's eyes widened as he sarcastically responded to Sportsman. "Ohhhhhhhh, lookie here, Mr. 5-0......................SIGN THE DAMN THING ALREADY!!!!!" D shoved the contract into Champ's gut, forcing him to grab hold of it. "Think about your legacy, you could be a THREE sport athlete! That's 3 sets of Championships to win, 3 groups of fans to impress, and 3 different Hall of Fames to be inducted into. Not even Michael Jordan himself was good enough to do THAT..............but you are!"

Champ didn't want to admit it, but Big D was one hell of a salesman, he'd actually convinced him to consider the offer. "What's in it for me? Fame and glory's good 'n' all, but so is money and women!"

D chuckled, knowing he had his fish on the hook, all he had to do was reel it in. "Well, for starters, a Universal Title opportunity."

"What?!?" Champ burst out incredulity. "If I sign this contract, you'll give me a shot at the top prize right away?!"

"Technically, yes," D replied through gritted teeth. "There's a Battle Royale at High Stakes for the vacant belt and it's open to anyone on the roster................" Big D points to the papers in Champ's hands. "...........and there's your ticket in."

Sportsman looked down at the contract and tsked, shaking his head. "I don't know, man," Champ shrugged. "I'll have to think about it."

"Sure, suuuuure," D smiled, already knowing what the answer would eventually be. "Take your time, High Stakes isn't for another six weeks................ no rush. You have my card, right?"

Champ held up the business card. "Yep."

Big D nodded, finally knowing when to quit. "Good, good." he spoke, looking awkwardly at the ground. "Then I suppose we'll be in touch."

D turned to walk away, but there was one last burning question Champ couldn't help but ask. "By the way," he called out, stopping D in his tracks. "What's in it for you?

The Savage co-General Manager looked over his shoulder, a sly smile on his face. "If I sign you, and you win, it makes ME look like a genius," D conceded, pointing to the empty part of his head where a brain was supposed to be. "And what better way to stick it to Atticus?"

"I don't know," Champ shrugged. "I'm not really sure who Atticus is."

"Ha, ha, you will!" D bellowed as he made his way off into the distance. "But, for right now, you worry about yourself and why it's gonna be YOU that walk aways with the gold come High Stakes...................." Big D vanished out of sight, but his voice echoed throughout the crisp, autumn air.

"I'll be expecting your call."

Champ was alone, left to ponder the very question: WHY him?


"I've played enough games throughout my life to know there's always a chance. From pee wee football to the Major Leagues, if there's a ball to be thrown, or a bat to be swung, you CAN walk away with the victory. It's all about execution. I've seen the smallest underdogs topple the largest giants, all because they had a better gameplan! What good is talent if you don't have the fundamentals to back it up? You can overpower your opponent for 99% of a game, but it'll all be for nothing if you fumble away the other 1% at the most inopportune of times. Well, Champ Sportsman DOESN'T fumble, and he certainly doesn't give anything less than 100%! Whether it be a football field, baseball diamond, or wrestling ring.......... I will ALWAYS fight until the very last play, even when defeat seems imminent. You can tell me I'm going to lose, but I won't accept it............ not before the clock strikes ZERO, at least!!!!!!"

"Everyone's gonna count me out before I even step foot in the ring, and I'm okay with that........... as a matter of fact, I plan to use it to my advantage. I'm nobody to these people, and that in itself can work in my favor. Some of the greatest victories in history have come at the hands of the underdog, and anyone who wants to overlook me is more than welcome to test the theory out at High Stakes! I may not look like much, but I assure you my bark is matched equally by my bite! While this may be my first time inside the square circle, it is neither my first fight nor my first wrestling match. If I could survive getting my ass handed to me on a daily basis at Lou Pachino's School of Hard Knocks, surely I can handle a bunch of adults running around in their Wonder Woman underoos! I don't need some colorful costume, or crazy gimmick, in order to be successful! My athleticism speaks for itself, and so does my MMA record."

"XWF may be an entirely different ball game, but I intend to play it HARD, and I intend to play it fast. If I don't leave it all in the ring at High Stakes, I'll be a failure in my eyes, regardless of how well I do. It doesn't matter if I have 1 elimination, or 12, if I can't compete at the highest level possible, then I'm no better than everyone else eliminated before me."

"I have 5 weeks to compile the ultimate scouting report on my opponents and, by the time I'm done, I'll know each and every one of them BETTER than they know themselves. Signature moves, strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes, mother's maiden name, whether they like the smell of their own farts or not.............. if it involves someone I'm competing against at High Stakes, I'm GONNA find it out about them! I wouldn't be doing my due diligence as a competitor, otherwise!"

"I'm smart enough to know at least half these guys are gonna let their egos go to their head. They'll see the odds and crown themselves before the match has even begun, all because some suit in Vegas claimed they were the 'favorite'. I've seen it time and time again; supposed 'greatest of all-time's who end up retiring without a single Championship to their name.............."

Champ looked down at the silver Ultra Bowl ring that rested where a wedding band normally would. "I'm far from being the greatest of all-time, but I DO know what it means to be a CHAMP, afterall, it's in my name.................."

A pumped up Sportsman felt confident, but not cocky. He was a realist and knew it was unlikely that a newcomer would walk into High Stakes and win the Universal Championship in their first match.............. but that wasn't gonna stop him from trying!

His spirits were the highest they'd been all day, he'd completely forgotten about the tragic loss of his baseball season and was looking forward to the potential success of his next venture. Unfortunately, though, as life had a way of doing so from time to time, Champ's elation was short lived, as the voice of one of his teammates quickly brought him back down to earth.

"Champ................. Ronnie's dead."
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