So I wanted to wrestle Mitch Colby. Badly. I wanted to see how we’d match up, how it would go, who would come out on top.
That’s what wrestling is, and always has been: a competition between two men, the only weapon their bodies, to see whose strength, skill, agility, and ability is the better. As with any contest, some luck also comes into play; an accidental slip, a momentary loss of focus, or even temporary distraction for even just a split second can be the difference between victory and loss.
Yet despite my eagerness for this match to happen, it didn’t. Delays, excuses, scheduling issues; it was always something. And you begin to wonder, what the fuck is the problem here? Am I not GOOD enough for Mr. Musclehead?
Well, fuck you too.
So, I started calling him out on the BGEast message boards.
And the name Mitch kind of lends itself to Bitch, doesn’t it?