Jackman-Templater



      Ben Jackman sits out on the balcony of his Tampa condo. The setting sun can be seen over his shoulder, his back is to the camera as he stares out over the horizon toward the setting sun. He is shirtless and sprinkling of sweat from a just completed workout, and training session with Del Carver stands out heavily on his shoulders. Jackman pulls a highball glass to his lips taking a long sip before he begins to speak, never taking his eyes off the setting sun.

      "There comes a time in every man's life when he has to ask himself the question.....'Is it worth it?'"

      "Is it all worth it? Is it worth all the hell I've gone through and all the hell I still have to go through to get what I want. Is it worth it, or is it simply the better part of valor to just lay down and die. To stop trying...to simply give up."

      "Ever man answers this question differently, and under a different set of circumstances. This week I have to ask myself this very question. Is it worth it? Is all the work I've done over the last few months..all the hell I've put myself through, all the bruises, all the scars, is it all worth it?"

      Jackman pauses clearing his throat and taking another deep pull from his glass.

      "This Sunday night in New York City, Hardcore Style steps into the ring with an opportunity to take back something that has been held just out of our reach for the last several months. Ben Jackman and Del Carver....Hardcore Style. The SHOOT Project's longest reigning number one contenders to any title. Dammit, looks like I've got another longevity record."

      Jackman laughs softly, the serious tone never quite leaving his voice.

      "For three months now, Hardcore Style has been ducked. Hardcore Style has been dodged. Hardcore Style has been ignored. Hardcore Style has been shoved aside. That ends..right FUCKING now.

      Ben Jackman adjusts in his chair, his eyes still set fimly on the horizon.

      "This Sunday at Oblivion, the tag titles that myself and Del Carver have been chasing endlessly for the last six months are finally put within reach. I and could honestly give a shit less whether I have to go through six teams or six hundred to get what I want. I will have it. Carver and I have sat by, and waited. Waited til it suited everyone..til it made everyone happy for Hardcore Style to get the tag title shot that we've earned a thousand times over."

      Jackman leans forward, picking up a jug of water from the side of his chair, refilling his glass, and bringing it back to his lips.

      "We sat back, calm as could be and waited, because eventually everything comes back around. And now if this is the way you want it, then this is exactly the way we'll give it to you. If you want us to run through every team in the SHOOT Project to get back the tag team gold that has been held just out of our reach for far FAR too long then we'll do it. Anyway you want it, you can have it. You want a four team qualifying match...you got it. You want a ladder match after that...you got it."

      Jackman leans back in his chair, resting his feet and ankles on the rail of his balcony, the sun beginning to sink beyond the horizon.

      "This Sunday...We step into the ring with three other teams just for the chance to qualify for the Tag Team Title Ladder match at the end of the night. Vincent Mallows and Kyle Ricks...Mirage and Crash...The Riot and The Wildcard. Three teams standing in Hardcore Style's path to the tag team titles. Three teams thats tag title futures are about to be put on hold. No offense gentlemen, but Sunday is not your day."

      Jackman chuckles softly under his breath.

      "So..you've gotta ask yourselves, gentlemen. You've gotta think about it. Is it worth it? I've got my answer."

      Jackman shakes his head, taking another deep drink of water.

      "Is it worth it, knowing I'm going to win this fucking thing. Is it worth it? Knowing that I'm gonna walk out of New York City with fresh gold strapped around my waist. Is it worth it?"

      Jackman pauses for a moment, a look of deep thought on his face.

      "You're goddamn right it is."

      "Whatever you got. Bring it. It ain't gonna be near enough. Go ahead and mint those new gold face plates for the tag team titles. Its over before it even starts. Not one team in this tournament wants it, no team is willing to put it all on the line for it, no one is willing to do it all Hardcore Style."

      Jackman takes a deep breath as the last rays of the sun fade over the horizon, and the only light is from the full moon over Tampa Bay.

      "So you've gotta ask yourself. Is it worth it? Knowing that no matter what you do, its not going to be enough. Is it worth it knowing that no matter what you do, you're going to eat one of these?"

      Jackman holds up his huge left fist.

      "Is it going to be worth getting your ass handed to you on a plater? Is it worth it knowing that its all for naught? Is it worth it? Thats up to you. Be sure to let me know, I don't have to think about it from that point of view."

      Jackman steps to his feet, his eyes meeting the SHOOT Project camera for the first time.

      "Hardcore Style is taking this motherfucker home, and there isn't a goddamn thing anyone of you can do about it."

      Jackman smiles broadly into the camera, his hand thoughtlessly rattling the ice in his glass.

      "So tell me...is it worth it?"