Bobby

Bobby…

Oh, Bobby.

Why did it have to be Bobby?

There’s so many little sniveling rats that scurry around the sewer that is the High Octane locker room that I would much rather be punching right into the ole faceroo this week. The cheap shot artists who are owed year old receipts, they know who they are. I was hoping one of them would have the courage to answer my open challenge. After all, they all seemed very confident that I didn’t earn my run as ICON Champion… as Tag Team Champion… as World Champion… as LSD champion. No, no, no… those were because I was “Mike’s friend”, they would crow and hooo boy did that become even worse when I entered the hallowed halls of the much vaunted High Octane Hall of Fame.

So where are you?

Cowards, each and every one to a man.

This isn’t about the cowards though. This is about Bobby Dean. A High Octane mainstay, a man beloved and hated in equal measure, whether he be jovially tossing around his eggs with his bandit pals or betraying his closest bonds, Bobby has always shown heart and determination magnitudes beyond 95% of this insipid roster of troglodytes. People laugh at Bobby, dipping into the very shallow well of weight jokes and cackle their over spherical heads off as if it’s the first time Bobby can carry more weight than a lot of the roster. Their hearts desire very much for him to be a walking punchline and yet they forget the most important point about a man like Bobby Dean…

When you look past Bobby Dean, that’s when he’s at his most dangerous. The man whose crown I am aiming for, my best friend, Mike Best, he knows that all too well.

Bobby Dean was almost HOW World Champion last year. People probably don’t remember that but if not for my intervention last July, if I didn’t hook Bobby’s leg and distract him, we might have been enjoying The Summer of Dean. Lee Best would probably have died earlier than the tragic Dan Ryan based murder he endured, most likely from a heart attack after seeing the word’s Champion Bobby Dean.

At Refueled EX EX EX EYE EYE, if I had allowed Bobby Dean his moment to shine, if I had allowed him to achieve his gold watch, if Bobby Dean had beat Mike Best… would things have got so heated between Mike and The Minister, would we really have reached to point of a LITERAL Death Match without the ultimate prize on the line? Would Max Kael, my other dearest friend, still be alive?

Is that one of those butterfly effect moments people always talk about? If only I’d let Bobby have his moment, if only I wasn’t so precious over my friendships. Hell, being so precious over my friendships is the reason I lost the World Title in the first places

What ifs can be a painful thing.

So, what about this week? What about my beautiful return to High Octane? What about my first ever competitive cage fight?

I would understand if you want to tear my head from my shoulders Bobby, I put you in a situation that allowed Mike to chomp down on Bobby Jr. I can fully understand if when we get inside that cage on High Octane’s finest Fight Boat, you look to maim me, rip me limb for limb, make me regret have the audacity to saunter back into this company and expect a fucking parade. You’re the only man who can justifiably have that rage against me.

The truth is, I was always afraid of you, Bobby. I always saw behind that joking veneer that you try to use to hide your true intent. People view you as a buffoon, I view you one of the finest agents of subterfuge that I’ve ever known. I know how you lure people in, I know how you catch them off guard. It’s brilliant.

Why do you think I never accepted a single one of your challenges when I was World Champion? I certainly didn’t think you were beneath me, I’m just a little bit better than most at spotting a trap when I see one.

The problem for you, Bobby is that my legacy is now secured. A Hall of Fame ring sits upon my finger, I am no longer afraid to fight.

I’m here to exorcise my demons and on Saturday night, I start with my cowardice.