Becoming A Wrestler

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"It'll be worth it," Sandro promised. Later that evening, the atmosphere at the FCW arena was electric. The crowd was buzzing, and anticipation filled the air as fans packed the seats, eager to see the fallout from the weekend's events. Sandro stood backstage, the championship belt gleaming under the lights as he prepared for his promo.

The FCW arena buzzed with anticipation as the night's event continued to unfold. The match scheduled before Sandro's promo was set to pit Taylor Rotunda, accompanied by Kofi Kingston, against Nick Nemeth. Dusty Rhodes and Steve Keirn had laid out the match meticulously, aiming to rebuild Nick's momentum as a heel while showcasing Taylor's resilience as a face.

The crowd roared as Taylor's entrance music hit. Emerging through the curtain, Taylor raised his arms high, feeding off the audience's energy. Kofi walked alongside him, clapping and gesturing to the fans, hyping them up even further. Taylor slapped hands with fans on his way to the ring, his demeanor embodying the classic babyface hero.

Once Taylor was in the ring, his music faded out, and the mood shifted. Nick Nemeth's entrance theme blared through the speakers, and the crowd's cheers morphed into a chorus of boos.

Nick strutted out onto the stage, his signature cocky grin plastered on his face. He pointed to himself, taunting the fans, and flexed his muscles before sauntering down the ramp, jawing at the crowd as he went.

When he reached the ring, Nick climbed the turnbuckle, throwing his arms out in exaggerated fashion, drawing even more heat from the audience. He jumped down, smirking at Taylor, who stood stoic, ready for the fight.

The referee called for the bell, and the match was underway. Taylor and Nick circled each other, the crowd firmly behind Taylor. The two locked up in a collar and elbow tie-up, each jockeying for position.

Nick, the more experienced technician, transitioned into a side headlock, wrenching Taylor's neck and grinning smugly as he controlled the opening moments.

Taylor fought back, shoving Nick into the ropes. Nick rebounded and shoulder checked Taylor, sending him to the mat. Nick stood over him, flexing and shouting, "Too easy!" The crowd booed loudly, while Kofi slapped the apron, urging Taylor to get up.

Taylor kipped up to his feet, surprising Nick and earning a massive pop from the crowd. He immediately caught Nick with a dropkick, sending the cocky heel stumbling into the corner. Taylor charged, landing a running clothesline that caused Nick to slump into the turnbuckles.

Taylor whipped Nick into the ropes and nailed him with a back body drop. The impact made the crowd roar as Nick clutched his back, grimacing in pain. Taylor stayed on the attack, hitting a running senton before covering Nick for a quick two-count.

Nick rolled out of the ring, shaking his head and yelling at the fans who jeered him. "Shut up! You don't know talent!" he shouted, as Taylor motioned for him to get back in the ring. Kofi walked over to Nick, clapping his hands and encouraging the fans to chant, "Taylor! Taylor!"

Nick glared at Kofi and slid back into the ring, only to duck under Taylor's attempt at a lock up. He grabbed Taylor by the waistband and threw him shoulder first into the steel ring post. Taylor's face twisted in pain as Nick seized the opening, delivering a back suplex to bring him down to the mat.

Nick's demeanor turned vicious as he stomped on Taylor's shoulder, targeting the same area he'd injured with the ring post. He taunted the crowd, shouting, "This is your hero? Pathetic!" before dropping a sharp elbow onto Taylor's shoulder.

Nick locked in a Fujiwara armbar, his knee pressing into Taylor's back for added pressure. Taylor grimaced, reaching desperately for the ropes as the crowd clapped and cheered him on. Kofi banged on the apron, yelling, "Come on, Taylor! You've got this!"

After a tense struggle, Taylor managed to reach the bottom rope, forcing Nick to break the hold. But Nick milked the referee's count, releasing at four and smirking at the boos raining down on him.

Nick dragged Taylor to his feet and went for a suplex, but Taylor blocked it, planting his feet firmly. He reversed the attempt, hitting Nick with a snap suplex of his own. Both men were down for a moment before Taylor kipped up again, the crowd erupting with cheers.

Taylor unleashed a flurry of offense at Nick, consisting of a spinning heel kick, a flying crossbody, and a sidewalk slam that left Nick reeling. Taylor climbed to the second rope and leaped off, connecting with a diving elbow drop. He hooked Nick's leg for a near fall, but Nick kicked out at two.

Nick rolled to the corner, clutching his ribs, but Taylor was relentless. He charged at Nick, only for Nick to dodge at the last second. Taylor collided with the turnbuckles, and Nick capitalized with a picture- perfect dropkick to the back of Taylor's head.

Sensing his opportunity, Nick set Taylor up for the Zig Zag. He ran toward Taylor, but Taylor held onto the ropes, causing Nick to crash to the mat. Seizing the moment, Taylor lifted Nick for his finishing move, the double undertook DDT, but Nick raked Taylor's eyes while the referee was momentarily distracted by Kofi shouting encouragement.

With Taylor momentarily blinded, Nick executed a chop block to Taylor's knee, bringing him down. Wasting no time, Nick locked in the Figure-Four Leglock, positioning himself near the ropes for leverage. The referee didn't catch Nick holding onto the ropes, and Taylor screamed in pain, trying to fight through the submission.

Kofi shouted at the referee, pointing at Nick's illegal tactic, but Nick released the ropes before the ref could catch him. Taylor struggled, using every ounce of strength to reverse the pressure. The crowd exploded as Taylor flipped the hold, forcing Nick to break the submission.

Both men got to their feet slowly, and Taylor attempted another double underhook DDT. This time, Nick countered, spinning out of the move and planting Taylor with the Zig Zag. He hooked the leg, and the referee counted to three.

Nick stood tall, smirking as the referee raised his hand. The crowd booed relentlessly, but Nick basked in their disdain, shouting, "Get used to it! I'm back, baby!"

Kofi helped Taylor out of the ring, patting him on the back and consoling him as they walked to the backstage area. Though Taylor had lost, the crowd's chants of "Taylor! Taylor!" showed their unwavering support.

As Nick celebrated in the ring, Sandro watched from backstage, his Florida Heavyweight Championship slung over his shoulder. He couldn't help but smile, knowing his time to address the FCW faithful was next.

The camera panned to the entrance ramp as Sandro's music 'Cult Of Personality' hit, the crowd erupting with cheers. Sandro walked out, dressed in dark jeans, a sharp blazer, and a tailored shirt, the FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship gleaming on his shoulder. He paused at the top of the ramp, soaking in the crowd's adulation before making his way to the ring.

Grabbing a mic, Sandro stood in the center of the ring, the title held high above his head as he looked into the crowd. The crowd chanted, "Sandro! Sandro!" and "You Deserve It! You Deserve It!" as he waited for the noise to die down.

"You know," Sandro began, his voice steady but filled with emotion, "standing here as your FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion is the greatest honor of my life as my career. Two nights ago, I went to war with Samoa Joe, and I gave everything I had. And you, each and every one of you, were right there with me."

The crowd roared, and Sandro smiled, nodding and taking in the crowd's energy.

"But this title isn't just about me," he continued. "It's about FCW. It's about every man and woman in that locker room busting their asses to make this brand the best in the world. And I promise you, as your champion, I'll do everything in my power to elevate FCW to heights it's never seen before."

The fans erupted again, chanting, "FCW! FCW!"

Sandro raised the mic again, letting the energy in the arena reach a fever pitch. His eyes scanned the crowd, a mix of determination and humility etched on his face.

"The only way I can elevate FCW and this championship," he began, his voice steady but impassioned, "to the heights it deserves is by becoming a fighting champion."

The crowd erupted, chanting, "Fighting Champion! Fighting Champion!" Sandro let them have their moment before continuing, his voice now filled with conviction.

"A fighting champion doesn't sit on the sidelines, waiting for someone to prove themselves. No, a fighting champion steps up and gives opportunities to everyone in that locker room. Especially to those who have never had a chance to hold gold. Everyone deserves their moment to shine."

The fans cheered even louder, the idea of weekly title defenses thrilling them. Sandro smirked, pacing the ring as he fed off their energy.

"And you know what that means," Sandro said, pausing for dramatic effect. "It means every single week, this title will be on the line. Because you deserve it. Because they deserve it. And because FCW deserves it."

The crowd chanted, "FCW! FCW! FCW!" as Sandro lifted the Florida Heavyweight Championship high above his head, the arena's lights reflecting off the gold plate.

"I want to create moments," Sandro continued, his tone softening. "Moments where you sit at the edge of your seat, heart pounding, wondering, 'Will the title change hands tonight?' Moments where anything can happen, where the underdog can become the hero, and the unexpected becomes reality. That's what this championship should represent, opportunity, excitement, and excellence."

The fans roared their approval, clapping and stomping their feet as Sandro paused, lowering the title back onto his shoulder.

"And I promise you," he said, his voice steady and unwavering, "I will live by those words. I will defend this championship against anyone and everyone. And if, when, the day comes that I've beaten every single wrestler in that locker room, there'll be no doubt about it. I won't just be your champion. I'll be the undisputed champion of FCW in this company's history!"

The audience erupted into deafening cheers, chanting, "Sandro! Sandro! Sandro!" as he looked out into the sea of fans, his expression firm.

"And when that day comes," Sandro said, his voice dropping slightly, filled with emotion, "when I've faced everyone, and I've given it my all, I'll know it's time to rest. I'll know I've done what I set out to do. Because this isn't just about holding a title. This is about leaving a legacy."

The crowd roared, fully behind Sandro's vision. A small chant of "This Is Awesome!" began to ripple through the arena, growing louder and louder until it filled the entire building.

Sandro paused, letting the fans show their appreciation. He nodded, visibly moved, and brought the mic back to his lips.

"But you know," he said with a small smile, "legacies aren't built alone. They're built on the shoulders of giants, with the help of friends, brothers, and sisters who push you to be better every single day."

The crowd quieted slightly, curious about where Sandro was going with this.

"And that's why I want my first defense, my first opportunity to prove myself as a fighting champion, to go to someone who's been by my side since the beginning," Sandro said, his voice thick with emotion. "Someone who believed in me when I wasn't sure I could believe in myself. Someone who gave me the spirit to continue my fight against Samoa Joe when I thought I had nothing left. My best friend, my tag team partner... Kofi Kingston."

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Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 19 (2009)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style

Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)

Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions & 1 FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion