Post by The Bigger Blacker Jones on May 26, 2014 17:50:43 GMT -6
It feels like yesterday that I was skipping class to chase after dimes and what not. Getting high in the parking lot of McDonald's spitting dope ass freestyles to pass the time.
It feels like yesterday that I was coming in late to the training seminar, earning the ire of Papa Arino and all the other vets and legends who didn't take me seriously.
It feels like yesterday that I was back in my hood on a hot summer night, wondering if I'd ever see brighter days, trying my hardest not to get caught up in the streets and make something of myself to show my mom that I appreciated everything that she's done for me. I owe her for the roof she put over my head, the food she put on the table, and for putting a foot in my ass when I got out of line and needed someone to keep me focused.
It wasnt easy getting here. I've made a lot of mistakes, shot myself in the foot so many times that it's a miracle I can walk straight - let alone in these Classic Ewing's or my favorite pair of Lebron 11s. It's hard coming from where I'm from. Philly is no picnic, and as minority from the inner-city, it's hard to do right when everything is set up for you to do wrong. I've spent my fair share of evenings questioning life as I struggled to deal with the negativity in my community, and the common struggles that someone of my ilk has to deal with in this society. I've put myself behind the eight ball, and cut my nose off to spite my face enough times to make a plastic surgeon rich. I've done things that I regret, and I've made poor choices that to the naked eye, I would've appeared to be self-destructing.
But I wasn't. What I was doing was trying to figure this life thing out. And I think I have now.
When I look at Wyn, I see someone I cherish, someone I'd do anything for because she deserves that and more. That's my ride or die chick, the one who's been with my every step of the way.
When I look at my city, I want to put on for Philly, and show all those colored kids that there is hope, that better days are on the horizon and that the night is truly darkest before the dawn. You just have to keep your head up, and keep looking for that light. And when you find it, you've gotta follow that motherf*cker to wherever it takes you - but at the same time you can't forget who you are.
And I know who I am.
I'm Black Jones.
I'm one half of #RushHour, one half of the (R)evo Tag Team Champions, and I'm half man - half amazing.
And I'll be turning up in New York City. I'll be in the Hammerstein Ballroom, the Mecca of Professional Wrestling, a building that's on par with Madison Square Garden when it comes to rich history. And I'm going to add to that lineage. Though I'm just working the Pre-Show, I'm treating that like my Main Event, because it is. It's my dream come true. It's everything I've ever hoped for. Its proof that despite everything that's happened to me in life, and everything that I've been through none of that matters now because I've arrived.
Its proof that I'm not just anybody, that there's indeed more to that S.O.B. from West Philly. There's more to that troublemaker, and troubled teen. There's more to that delinquent, that thug, that criminal, that middle child and that lost black kid.
There's more to Black Jones, and tonight, alongside my main man hunnit-grand, #RushHour is going to show the world that we're for real. This is for my hood, my fam, for Wynsanity, for #SectionB, for Old Man Riley and anybody who's ever steered me in the right direction, and everyone who's had my back and wished the best for me.
Black Jones is in the building...
Nigga... we made it!
It feels like yesterday that I was coming in late to the training seminar, earning the ire of Papa Arino and all the other vets and legends who didn't take me seriously.
It feels like yesterday that I was back in my hood on a hot summer night, wondering if I'd ever see brighter days, trying my hardest not to get caught up in the streets and make something of myself to show my mom that I appreciated everything that she's done for me. I owe her for the roof she put over my head, the food she put on the table, and for putting a foot in my ass when I got out of line and needed someone to keep me focused.
It wasnt easy getting here. I've made a lot of mistakes, shot myself in the foot so many times that it's a miracle I can walk straight - let alone in these Classic Ewing's or my favorite pair of Lebron 11s. It's hard coming from where I'm from. Philly is no picnic, and as minority from the inner-city, it's hard to do right when everything is set up for you to do wrong. I've spent my fair share of evenings questioning life as I struggled to deal with the negativity in my community, and the common struggles that someone of my ilk has to deal with in this society. I've put myself behind the eight ball, and cut my nose off to spite my face enough times to make a plastic surgeon rich. I've done things that I regret, and I've made poor choices that to the naked eye, I would've appeared to be self-destructing.
But I wasn't. What I was doing was trying to figure this life thing out. And I think I have now.
When I look at Wyn, I see someone I cherish, someone I'd do anything for because she deserves that and more. That's my ride or die chick, the one who's been with my every step of the way.
When I look at my city, I want to put on for Philly, and show all those colored kids that there is hope, that better days are on the horizon and that the night is truly darkest before the dawn. You just have to keep your head up, and keep looking for that light. And when you find it, you've gotta follow that motherf*cker to wherever it takes you - but at the same time you can't forget who you are.
And I know who I am.
I'm Black Jones.
I'm one half of #RushHour, one half of the (R)evo Tag Team Champions, and I'm half man - half amazing.
And I'll be turning up in New York City. I'll be in the Hammerstein Ballroom, the Mecca of Professional Wrestling, a building that's on par with Madison Square Garden when it comes to rich history. And I'm going to add to that lineage. Though I'm just working the Pre-Show, I'm treating that like my Main Event, because it is. It's my dream come true. It's everything I've ever hoped for. Its proof that despite everything that's happened to me in life, and everything that I've been through none of that matters now because I've arrived.
Its proof that I'm not just anybody, that there's indeed more to that S.O.B. from West Philly. There's more to that troublemaker, and troubled teen. There's more to that delinquent, that thug, that criminal, that middle child and that lost black kid.
There's more to Black Jones, and tonight, alongside my main man hunnit-grand, #RushHour is going to show the world that we're for real. This is for my hood, my fam, for Wynsanity, for #SectionB, for Old Man Riley and anybody who's ever steered me in the right direction, and everyone who's had my back and wished the best for me.
Black Jones is in the building...
Nigga... we made it!
