Becoming A Wrestler

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"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."

The crowd exploded into cheers, chanting Kofi's name. The camera panned to the backstage area, where Kofi was standing, looking genuinely surprised and touched. He had been watching Sandro's promo on a monitor, and now he shook his head, a grin spreading across his face.

"Kofi," Sandro said, pointing toward the backstage area, "you've been more than a partner to me. You've been like a brother. And now, it's time I show you how much that means to me. Next week, right here in this ring, it'll be me and you, one-on-one, for the Florida Heavyweight Championship."

The fans went wild, and Kofi started walking toward the ring, his eyes locked on Sandro. When his entrance music hit, the crowd erupted even louder. Kofi stepped through the curtain, a mix of surprise and excitement written all over his face. He clapped hands with the fans on his way down the ramp, his usual exuberance tinged with a sense of pride and gratitude.

Once Kofi entered the ring, he grabbed a mic and faced Sandro, the two friends standing in the center of the ring as the crowd chanted, "This is awesome! This is awesome!"

Kofi raised his mic, waiting for the crowd to quiet down. "Man... Sandro, I don't even know what to say," he began, his voice filled with emotion. "You didn't have to do this. I mean, this is your moment. You worked so hard to get here, and now you're giving me a shot? That's... that's real, man."

Sandro smiled, nodding as the crowd continued to cheer.

"But let me tell you something," Kofi said, his tone shifting slightly, a playful smirk crossing his face. "If you think for one second that I'm going to take it easy on you just because we're friends, you've got another thing coming."

The fans erupted into cheers again, loving the camaraderie and competition between the two.

Sandro laughed, raising his mic. "Kofi, I wouldn't want it any other way. Next week, you bring your A-game, because I sure as hell am bringing mine."

The two men stood face to face, the tension and respect between them palpable. They extended their hands, shaking firmly as the crowd chanted, "Let them fight! Let them fight!"

Sandro raised the Florida Heavyweight Championship high above his head once more, and Kofi pointed to it, signaling his intent to win. The camera lingered on the two friends in the ring as the show cut to a commercial break, leaving the crowd watching from him buzzing with excitement for what was to come.

Backstage, Dusty Rhodes watched on a monitor leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to the monitor where Sandro and Kofi were still in the ring, soaking in the crowd's thunderous applause.

A wide smile stretched across Dusty's face as he crossed his arms, clearly proud of what was unfolding. Turning to Steve Keirn, he said, "That's what I'm talkin' about, baby. That's how you build stars."

Beside him, Steve mirrored the expression, nodding in approval as the camera finally cut to a commercial break, Steve turned to Dusty, his voice filled with curiosity. "That was a hell of a promo, Dusty. Who came up with that idea? You?"

Dusty chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, baby, that was all Sandro's doin'. Kid came to me two days ago, and said he had somethin' special in mind. Told me he wanted to kick off his reign by makin' a statement, by showin' the fans what kind of champion he's gonna be."

Steve raised his eyebrows, impressed. "It's a smart move. Giving the fans a champion who defends every week? That's a surefire way to keep people tuning in. Hell, I'd watch just to see if someone could actually take the belt off him."

Dusty nodded, still smiling. "Exactly. It might be a little cliche, but sometimes the old tricks are the best ones, ya know? A fighting champion brings eyes to the product, and makes that title mean somethin'. And you see how the crowd reacted, they love the idea of Sandro puttin' it all on the line week after week."

Steve leaned back, crossing his arms. "It's a bold move. Dangerous, but bold. And it's smart for business. The fans love unpredictability. They'll tune in every Monday, hopin' to see an upset, maybe even a title change. Sandro's got a good head on his shoulders. The kid's sharp."

Dusty's grin widened. "Sharp don't even cover it, Steve. That boy's been in this business less than a year, but he's pickin' it up faster than most vets I've seen. He's like a sponge, soakin' up everything, learnin' the ropes, and then some. Puttin' the title on him was the right call. He's provin' it every day."

Steve nodded in agreement. "You're right. He's got it. That natural charisma, the way he carries himself out there, it's rare. And he knows how to connect with the crowd. You don't teach that, it's just in you."

Dusty gestured toward the monitor, where a replay of Sandro raising the championship was being shown. "That right there? That's star power, baby. And mark my words, by the time he's done, people ain't just gonna call him a great champion. They're gonna call him one of the best this business has ever seen."

Steve smirked, leaning forward. "You really think he's got that kind of potential?"

Dusty nodded without hesitation. "Oh, I know it. You just wait, Steve. This is just the beginnin'."

Meanwhile, back in the locker room, after their performance in the ring, Kofi was still buzzing from the moment in the ring. He sat on a bench, his elbows resting on his knees, a slight smile on his face as he replayed Sandro's words in his head.

Sandro, now back in the locker room himself, walked over and took a seat next to Kofi, the Florida Heavyweight Championship still draped over his shoulder.

"You good, man?" Sandro asked, his tone light but sincere.

Kofi looked up, grinning. "Good? Nah, man, I'm great. But I gotta ask, what made you pick me for your first defense? I mean, there are a lot of guys back here who'd kill for that shot."

Sandro shrugged, adjusting the title on his shoulder. "Because you're the reason I'm holding this right now. You were there when I was doubting myself, when I didn't think I could beat Joe. You gave me that pep talk, and reminded me why I do this. I owe this to you, man."

Kofi chuckled, shaking his head. "You don't owe me anything, Sandro. You earned that title. But I'll tell you what, you giving me this shot? That means the world to me. Just know I'm not gonna take it easy on you."

Sandro laughed. "I wouldn't expect you to, Kofi. But you better bring your best, because I'm not planning on losing this anytime soon."

The two men shared a fist bump, the tension between them friendly yet competitive. The camaraderie was real, but so was the underlying desire to prove who was the better man.

As the buzz from the night's events began to settle, fans flooded social media, hyping up the announcement of Sandro's first title defense. "Sandro vs. Kofi for the Florida Heavyweight Championship" quickly began trending, with fans praising Sandro's decision to make his first challenger someone he respected and trusted.

The announcement also drew attention from wrestling analysts and commentators, many of whom applauded FCW for booking a match that promised both emotional weight and in-ring excellence.

Backstage, the rest of the FCW roster watched closely, knowing that Sandro's open-challenge policy meant any one of them could be next. For some, it was a motivating factor, a chance to prove themselves against the top guy in the company. For others, it was a target on Sandro's back. And for a select few, it was a threat to their own ambitions.

The locker room atmosphere was warm and lively, with the kind of camaraderie that only came from mutual respect and shared passion for the craft. As Sandro and Kofi continued their conversation, the door swung open, and in walked Nick, Taylor, Sheamus, Drew, and Stu. They were all smiles, clapping and cheering as they approached the two men.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Nick exclaimed, his grin wide as he pointed at Sandro. "Man, that promo? Top notch I say. Had the crowd eating out of your hand, I even still felt some of the chills."

"And you, Kofi," Nick added, turning to Kofi. "Men, you had the perfect reaction out there. Genuine, heartfelt. You two killed it, man."

Taylor nodded in agreement. "I'm not gonna lie, though. When I heard you had a surprise, Sandro, I thought it was gonna be some kind of open challenge gimmick. But this? Choosing Kofi? That was genius."

Drew clapped Sandro on the back. "Yeah, mate, didn't see that coming at all. But it makes sense now. You're not just out here to be a champion, you're building something bigger. Respect."

Stu crossed his arms, smirking. "Still can't believe you kept that under wraps. Nobody had a clue what you were planning. But hey, you've got everyone talking now. Smart move."

Sandro, humbled by the praise, chuckled and raised a hand to wave it off. "Thanks, guys. But honestly, it wasn't just about shocking people or putting on a show. It's about doing something meaningful, something that gets people invested, not just in me, but in FCW as a whole."

Sheamus leaned against the wall, his thick Irish brogue cutting through the chatter. "And that's what makes ya different, fella. Most lads would've taken this moment to make it all about themselves. But you? You're thinking about the whole company. That's rare."

Sandro shrugged, adjusting the championship belt on his shoulder. "Look, if I succeed, we all succeed. The fans aren't just here for me, they're here for all of us. And if I can get them tuning in week after week, then they're gonna see your matches, your promos. This isn't just my moment, it's ours."

The room fell silent for a moment as everyone absorbed Sandro's words. Then, one by one, they nodded, their expressions shifting from admiration to genuine appreciation. It was clear that Sandro wasn't just a champion in the title, he was a leader in spirit.

"That's a hell of a mindset," Nick said finally, his voice softer now. "But you do realize what you're getting yourself into, right? A fighting champion? Weekly defenses? You're gonna be working tirelessly from now on."

Taylor chimed in, a teasing grin on his face. "Unless, of course, something unexpected happens. You know, like you tripping over a ring cable and spraining an ankle or something."

The room erupted in laughter, and even Sandro couldn't help but join in. "Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence, Taylor. But seriously, I know it's gonna be tough. That's the point. If I'm gonna call myself a champion, I have to earn it every single week."

Sheamus stepped forward, his expression serious now. "You've got the right attitude, lad. But don't forget to pace yourself. You don't have to prove everything all at once. Take it one match at a time."

"Speaking of matches," Drew interjected, his tone lighter, "next week is gonna be a barnburner. You and Kofi? That's money. But what about after that? You've got a plan for who's next, or are you just gonna wing it?"

Sandro smirked, leaning back against the bench. "I've got a list. And at the top of it are the guys who've never had a title shot before. Just like what I had said in my promo, I want to give opportunities to the ones who've been overlooked, the ones who've been grinding without getting their moment."

The room fell silent again, the weight of Sandro's words hanging in the air. It wasn't just about being a fighting champion, it was about being a fair and just one. Kofi, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "That's big, man. Real big. You're not just elevating the title, you're elevating the whole locker room."

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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