They say history is written by the victors.
If that was strictly true, Scott Stevens would’ve been written out of it by now.
Here is a man whose ignorance drips out of every word he says.
A man who loves to control his narrative as the mood suits him.
Trust me, Scott, I know HOFC isn’t your forte.
After all, it was an HOFC fight that forced you into retirement last year.
Here’s the thing, though…you should’ve stayed retired.
You could’ve enjoyed the comfort of the HOW office.
Done all those things you like bragging about.
But that isn’t good enough for you, is it?
You crave one last great run, popping your head in when nobody asked you to.
Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it…and that fits you to a T.
Explains why you sound like a broken record, boasting about all the things you did years and years ago as if you’re just as good as you were “back in the day.”
But what have you done in the past…oh, I dunno…twelve months or so?
You were given the occasional referee gig to keep you from getting that itch to compete again…but you just couldn’t help yourself.
So, as an official for Lethal Lottery, you inserted yourself into the mix to steal yourself a shot at the World Championship.
You had every opportunity to prove there was still a place in High Octane Wrestling for the great Scott Stevens…and then you came up short.
You missed the mark by a mile.
And for all intents and purposes, that should’ve been the end of the story.
I know this is far from your first rodeo.
There’s just one problem, and I think we need to address it.
You can’t seem to get it through your thick skull, so I’m gonna spell it out for you.
There is no room in this business for you, Scott Stevens.
Like a rodeo clown that forgets he’s just there to amuse the crowds, you seem to be intent on climbing onto that bull for a thrill ride.
Not even realizing that every ride you take could be your last.
And every bump you take seemingly takes a few brain cells with it.
You’re struggling to comprehend some things, so let’s break it down.
I was drafted to Team Best, early on as a matter of fact.
You may be onto something with Lee Best not wanting me in the squad, but I’ve also accepted what Lee seems to think of me.
Too bad you can’t accept what he actually sees in you.
Going around acting like you’ve joined The Board alongside CEO Mike Best and his pals and compatriots…it’s amusing, to be honest.
It’s like if I ran around in a Stetson bragging that I’m the newest Highwayman, just because I teamed with them in War Games…just because Joe Bergman’s my coach.
I choose to stay in my own lane.
Bergman may be helping me with training, but I am my own man.
I know my place.
I’m a loner, Stevens…a rebel.
And this rebel has had to go back to square one.
To pivot from his old strategy, and find a new approach.
I’m rebuilding everything, from the ground up.
Even my fellow disciples recognize my knack for critical thinking.
It’s why I stand out from the pack of spooky “cult leader” wannabes in the business.
I am the one and only, Stevens…nobody I’d rather be.
I’ve got a lot more fight in me than you’re giving credit for.
I’m a survivor.
That’s what I do.
I outwit, I outplay, I outlast.
And above all else, I adapt.
Whether it’s my in-ring technique or my focus on what’s important, I have grown tremendously in the time I’ve been here.
When we step into the cage at Chaos, I will show you precisely what I’m capable of.
Whether it’s a knockout in one round or a decision between the judges after three, I will make you eat your words.
All that talk about “vanquishing Fisher Price wrestlers” is gonna bite you in the ass when you realize you couldn’t beat the man you’re dismissing.
And I will send you back to your role of entertaining Lee Best.
To answer “how far” when he tells you to jump.
To fill another unnecessary spot when the mood is just right.
And to fail for the umpteenth time.
Same as it ever was.