Allow me to introduce myself for those of you with an IQ of a tapeworm:
I am Morgan Knight.
I am a multi time CHAMPION. I associate myself with CHAMPIONS.
I manage and lead - you guessed it - CHAMPIONS.
And yes, I can be cocky. Cool, cocky, bad – a la razor Ramon ;)
You may think I have a chip on my shoulder? Well, yes and no. I was on top of the company, the 'golden girl'. And then I decided to amicably part ways with the WWE. OR is that just what they want you to think? They want you to think that the WWE's top female baby face "did a Sable", go too big for her boots, and thought she was better than Wrestling. Well, I know Sable personally, and that's not the way it went for either of us.
Oh... I shouldn't name drop.
I "LEFT" WWE in 2010; I decided I couldn't cut the crap anymore. The travel had burnt me out, I was banged up, and occasionally I regretted my decision.
Licking my wounds, I partied a bit, gained a reputation. I turned TNA down after months of contractual disagreements. Scott Steiner was right- they should burn in hell. But I'm a tough cookie, I look after myself. But I just needed a motive to return, or find something to do with my life.
That is where tomorrow's meeting comes in:
Titan Towers. 9am sharp, ask for me. Hunter.
The blunt text message I got this morning said. But my mind debated whether I should go or not.
The life of a wrestler had its highs, and its demons. 'American Dream'. But The WWE motivated me to stay strong, it was my life line. Yes occasionally I got in trouble, and round out about drink and drugs, but I consider myself to have valuable life experiences. I debuted at the age of 18, and I did a lot of growing up. I didn't sleep around, I kept a level head. I had it good.
It hit me hard - I cut myself off, WWE Superstars and the office called, I wouldn't answer. I refused public appearances - I didn't want to be like Tammy Sytch, still clawing to the WWE name. That's not my style. But today was different. I turned on my tv - 9pm, Mondays, it was like it was imprinted into my brain. RAW. I sat. And watched.
I'm not impressed. it made me think about the old days, back in 1999.
1999? GOD how old are you? - 30, turning 31. Thank you. But I get better with age.
I switched off my tv, and threw it away. Too soon to watch? Or did I catch the ring bug a little?
Hell what was this meeting going to be about anyway?
My mood changes all the time. Like Charlie Sheen, I don't call myself Bipolar - I'm fucking biwinning. My depressive state before was just a blip. The guys used to always say sarcasm is the Brit coming out of me, but that's just another side of me.
And then it occurred to me... Wrestlers come AND go, right? ;)
I dropped the pen back on the desk.
"There you go… signed…. I'm back".