Occam's Razor
Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2015 10:52 pm
Just have to get this to him, and get out. So what if he's meeting with his client? I'll just give him the paperwork, and get out. No big deal.
The assistant said that over and over to himself in his head as he trepidatiously made his way to the room reserved for Brock Lesnar and Paul Heyman. Their setup was unique; unlike other main event wrestlers that got their own locker room, Paul needed a desk and some space to work, while Brock only needed the convenience of a dressing room and a shower. More times than not, they would both set up space in the same room, and allowed one of the other rooms to be delegated to someone else. As the assistant, named Gary, closed in on the room, his pace slowed. Many people were intimidated by Brock Lesnar, because frankly, there wasn't entirely a lot of information about him as a person. He wasn't the open book that many of the other personalities on the show were. Gary got to the door and knocked lightly. He could hear Heyman talking in a frustrated tone on the other side of the door. The talking ceased just enough for Heyman to call out.
Paul Heyman: IT'S OPEN.
Gary turned the knob on the door and entered with caution, surveying the room. Hayman was on the left side of the room, seated at a table that had been set up for him. Paperwork was strewn about, complete with a peppering of office supplies. Hayman had gone back to the conversation he was having on his cell phone. He was leaning back in his chair, an agitated look on his face.
Paul Heyman: Now you listen to me, Marla. You are my darling, the love of my life. But you are killing me with this. I don't have the koyakh to deal with this right now. I'm tired.
Gary's eyes kept glancing over at Brock Lesnar, who was on the other end of the room, putting on a black, sleeveless "Here Comes the Pain" shirt and some antiperspirant.
Paul Heyman: Do you know what kind of work I have in front of me, libe? Brock is doing the King of the Ring right now, he's got a match with Trent Barreta that I have to interview for in a few minutes, and I am looking at his house show bookings to make sure they don't conflict with his other commitments. You know I would love to go to every single school event that Jacob's a part of but you know I can't. Especially this time of the month.
Heyman listened a little longer, his brow furrowing in irritation.
Paul Heyman: He's going into the 8th grade! He's not even graduating! It's a shvindel, I tell you! They keep coming up with these ways to get parents to shell out their hard earned money to celebrate bupkis! Believe me, Wes Ikeda is a fair man, but I can't leave the road and come running home for every single this and that his school wants to do! They're a bunch of meshugenahs! Soon they're gonna give out ribbons for making it to the end of the day!
Paul's yiddish accent was in full swing, along with his frustration.
Paul Heyman: My dear, I worked for a crazy skeynim named Vince McMahon for years, and he fired a man that took off some time to deal with a STROKE. The fact that I even have a job in the business after what I told Vince he could do with his, is a miracle. Now Marla, if Jacob has a piano recital, or a championship football game, or he's going to a state debate tournament, I'll be there. You know I will. We'll talk about this later, I have company. Alright, libe. I'll call you later. Mwah.
Heyman hit the End Call button on his smartphone and placed it on the table. Lesnar walked over to Heyman and they exchanged glances. Heyman leaned back in his chair and exhaled sharply. He looked over at Gary, who had some papers in his hand, and looked uncomfortable to say the least.
Paul Heyman: Is there something I can help you with, Mr...
Gary: Uh, Gary. I'm one of Joanie's assistants. She sent me to bring this stuff to you.
Paul outstretched his arms.
Paul Heyman: By all means, Gary.
Gary tentatively walked towards Paul Heyman, glancing back at Brock Lesnar multiple times, who seemed amused by the entire situation. Lesnar crossed his arms and stared a whole through him, not attempting to alleviate his stress in any way. Gary handed the papers to Heyman and stepped back.
Paul Heyman: And what are these?
Gary: These, uh... they are booking schedules for all upcoming house shows in the month of June. Joanie wants you to look them over and suggest some changes. She would have brought them herself, but they called her away to deal with some last minute changes to the show tonight.
Paul Heyman: Does this paperwork come with an extra paycheck, Gary?
Gary: I, um... I don't, uh--
Paul scowled, muttering the Yiddish phrase "Gey shlog dayn kop in vant" under his breath, which meant "Go bang your head against the wall". Gary seemed frozen for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond. Heyman sensed this, and put his hands up in surrender.
Paul Heyman: You know what, Gary? Don't worry about it. I'm just a little excited after the conversation I had to have with my lovely wife, but that's none of your concern. You may tell Joanie that I'll have some suggestions ready for each show before the end of the night.
Gary: Okay, but...
Brock Lesnar took a menacing step towards Gary and pointed at the door. Gary yelped and left the room faster than he ever thought possible. Lesnar smirked and turned back to Paul, who rolled his eyes.
Paul Heyman: Didn't have to scare the dreck out of him, you know. He was wound up tighter than a snare drum with you standing there.
Lesnar grinned and pointed back at the door with a closed fist and an outstretched thumb.
Brock Lesnar: Fuck that guy.
Paul Heyman: Indeed. I'll take a look at this later. You and I have an interview to conduct, about one of my former clients no less.
Heyman stood up, smoothed out his jacket, and headed to the door. Lesnar put on an F5 beanie and followed him out.
~~~
EBWF.net Exclusive Interview - June 11, 2015
The camera opened up on Paul Heyman, Brock Lesnar, and Michael Cole. Cole was sitting down in a plush red chair on the left side, and opposite him was the duo of Lesnar and Heyman. Lesnar was leaned back casually in his chair, his massive arms draping over the arm rests. Heyman's posture was much more upright and proper. The camera centered on Cole as he gave his intro.
Michael Cole: Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Michael Cole, and I have the opportunity to sit down with one of the guys with the most buzz around him right now, Brock Lesnar. With him tonight is his advocate, Paul Heyman.
Paul Heyman: I'm disappointed, Michael. Am I not generating "buzz" as well? Surely, becoming the man that brokered an alliance between the two most unlikely of athletes deserves some level of chatter in the world of wrestling, wouldn't you think?
Michael Cole: Well it certainly wasn't expected, I will give you that. Paul, I'll start with you. Paul, what was your strategy to convince John Cena to join your cause? A man like John Cena, who had the entire world looking up to him, for a man like that to just one day turn on his own ideals... you must have had a plan in mind.
Paul Heyman: Michael, I know it's hard to believe me, because people perceive me to be a "bad guy".
Paul used his air quotes.
Paul Heyman: But the truth is, I am not the evil schemer in this situation that people like to make me out to be. Many people misuse the principle of Occam's Razor. Do you know what that is, Michael? It's the principle that states of all the possible answers of a given question, the one that makes the least assumptions should be the one you focus on. So, let's focus. Let's take Paul Heyman out of the equation for a moment, shall we? You have John Cena. The man who became the face of an entire ERA of wrestling. The man who transcended his role as a "sports entertainer" and, quite literally, became wrestling to many people. He was the face of an entire legion of young children, who watched his Hustle, Loyalty, and Respect each and every week, and idolized him. Every move he made, every person he defeated, became the measuring stick by which EVERYONE in the business was measured. That is a lot to put on any one man's shoulders. Even ones as strong as John Cena's. And then.. you have Wes Ikeda. A man who took that popularity, took that image, and exploited it for every nickel and dime he could get his grubby hands on. He threw John Cena on magazine covers and put him in movies, plastered him on billboards and taxi cabs. He took the hard work that John Cena had done and monetized it, leaving a pittance by comparison to the man who had actually done the work. Now, frame that information into your inquiry and ask the REAL question. What plan would I need? All John Cena needed to do was come to the conclusion on his own. Which he did. You know why? Because John Cena is a brilliant wrestler and a shrewd businessman. And once the wool was removed from his eyes, he found his way back to reality like that.
Heyman snapped his fingers sharply.
Paul Heyman: But enough of John Cena. We're here to talk about one man. The man next to me. The man who you can call the future King of the Ring, Bawwwwwrrooooooccckkkkk.... LESNAR.
Michael adjusted his tie and shifted in his seat, glancing over at Lesnar, who looked about as casual as he could be.
Michael Cole: Fair enough. Brock, tonight you're going to face Trent Barreta for the first round of the King of the Ring tournament. What are your thoughts about this matchup.
Lesnar smirked, seemingly unconcerned. He casually gestured his head in Heyman's direction.
Paul Heyman: Michael, I want to take you back in time for a moment. Just far enough to document my presence in the EBWF. When I first got here, it was my prerogative to attempt to call everyone's attention to the men and women of the EBWF that I perceived to be "the forgotten ones", so to speak. Back then, the EBWF was riding high on guys like Randy Orton, and John Cena, and The Miz. It seemed like there was a certain caste of people that Wes Ikeda associated himself with, and those were the guys that made it. Those were the guys carrying around the World Championship. They got opportunity after opportunity after opportunity. And when I looked at that, it made me mad. So I came to EBWF and I became the banner holder for guys like AJ Styles, Ted Dibiase Jr, Cody Rhodes, and Trent Barreta. I took to social media and defended them on Twitter. I angled for them to get more shots at the spotlight backstage. I wanted to make sure that they had all the opportunities that the other guys had. Boy, was that a mistake.
Heyman rolled his eyes dramatically.
Paul Heyman: I realized something when I went through that ordeal, Michael. When I had Trent Barreta and Cody Rhodes complaining to me because Syxx was in the King of the Ring tournament and the younger guys were getting eliminated, that was the moment when I began thinking about my exit strategy. I... am an advocate. My job is to provide opportunities for those who will scratch, claw, maim, and kill to take advantage of them. My job is to take a wrestler and channel his rage, his hunger, and his talent, and point it in the right direction. I didn't see that hunger, or passion that drives a man to do great... or terrible things. And so I moved on. I tried everything. I even tried focusing AJ Styles into a killing machine that could take out Randy Orton and become World Champion. But failed spectacularly, and I was left with nothing. Until I came to a sudden realization.
Heyman tilted his head with a smirk.
Paul Heyman: Occam's Razor. The simplest answer first. I had been so concerned with trying to instill the BEAST in other athletes. That was my focus, and my grand failure. I was trying to make Trent Barreta into a conqueror, when he was never going to be that. I was trying to make AJ Styles a destroyer, a beast incarnate, and he couldn't handle the pressure. This led me to the ultimate solution. Why try to make a Beast, when you already have a Beast? So I unleashed Brock Lesnar on the EBWF, because he was the simple answer to my problem. Brock Lesnar was a man I could count on to bring unimaginable, unfathomable levels of violence to the EBWF and absolutely devastate anything in his path. That brings us to today, with you sitting here asking me what Brock Lesnar's thoughts are going into his first round match with Trent... Barreta.
A twisted smile crept up on Heyman's features as he leaned in, clasping his hands together.
Paul Heyman: Michael, if you could use one word that sums up my client, what word would you choose?
Cole glanced over at Lesnar, who despite is lackadaisical attitude, still was just about the most intimidating thing on two legs.
Michael Cole: Scary.
Heyman pointed at him.
Paul Heyman: Right-o, my man. That's a good one. See, I might even pick that word as well. Six foot three, two hundred and ninety five pounds of Beast. MMA Champion. Amateur wrestling Champion. EBWF World Champion. For God's sake, he even has a broadsword tattooed on his chest. "Scary", as about as apropos as it gets. You want to know what word I would use to describe Trent Barreta?
Heyman shrugged.
Paul Heyman: Games. I'd use the word games to sum up Trent Barreta. And I don't mean that constant tweets that I see filling up my feed about Trent Barreta and the latest achievement he's managed to earn on Call of Duty, or Mario Kart, or whatever nonsense he's playing this week. No, I mean that Trent Barreta thinks that the business of wrestling is fun and games. Where's the intensity? Where's the sense of urgency? And without either of those, how can you ever look across the ring from a man like Brock Lesnar and even hope to survive, let alone win? My client has two things on his mind at any given time. When he's at home on his farm in Minnesota, he's entire focus is to provide for his family. He shoulders that burden almost exclusively, and it becomes the very essence of his being. But... when he gets into the ring, his focus changes. When he gets into the ring, the entire essence of his being becomes devoted to making sure the guy across from him... doesn't get up. That's it, Michael. He doesn't worry about if his opponent has any friends. He doesn't concern himself with who that person might be loved by. He doesn't care if his opponent is a father to someone, a son, a brother, a husband. This is no game to Brock Lesnar.
Michael Cole: You've got to have some respect for Trent Barreta's accomplishments. For a man of his size, he's gotten farther than most would consider even possible. He's defeated many athletes much larger than him, so he may have a strategy to deal with Brock Lesnar.
Paul Heyman: You just don't get it, do you? There is no strategy for Brock Lesnar. Brock Lesnar does not fight the same way in one match that he did in the last match. There's no preparation, because Brock Lesnar is not just some big guy that can be toppled by agility and speed. Brock Lesnar is a once in a lifetime athlete. He can run the 100 yard dash in olympic qualifying time. He's as agile as Trent Barreta, he's as fast as Trent Barreta. He's stronger, more focused, a better striker, and a better wrestler than Trent Barreta. This is not just some magical situation where there's some x-factor that will give Trent the underdog victory. There's no happy ending to this match.
With that, Heyman stood up. Lesnar followed suit.
Paul Heyman: It all comes back to Occam's Razor, Michael. Look at Trent Barreta, then look at Brock Lesnar. The simplest answer is the right one.
Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar headed off camera, and the EBWF logo flashed across the bottom right corner and faded.
The assistant said that over and over to himself in his head as he trepidatiously made his way to the room reserved for Brock Lesnar and Paul Heyman. Their setup was unique; unlike other main event wrestlers that got their own locker room, Paul needed a desk and some space to work, while Brock only needed the convenience of a dressing room and a shower. More times than not, they would both set up space in the same room, and allowed one of the other rooms to be delegated to someone else. As the assistant, named Gary, closed in on the room, his pace slowed. Many people were intimidated by Brock Lesnar, because frankly, there wasn't entirely a lot of information about him as a person. He wasn't the open book that many of the other personalities on the show were. Gary got to the door and knocked lightly. He could hear Heyman talking in a frustrated tone on the other side of the door. The talking ceased just enough for Heyman to call out.
Paul Heyman: IT'S OPEN.
Gary turned the knob on the door and entered with caution, surveying the room. Hayman was on the left side of the room, seated at a table that had been set up for him. Paperwork was strewn about, complete with a peppering of office supplies. Hayman had gone back to the conversation he was having on his cell phone. He was leaning back in his chair, an agitated look on his face.
Paul Heyman: Now you listen to me, Marla. You are my darling, the love of my life. But you are killing me with this. I don't have the koyakh to deal with this right now. I'm tired.
Gary's eyes kept glancing over at Brock Lesnar, who was on the other end of the room, putting on a black, sleeveless "Here Comes the Pain" shirt and some antiperspirant.
Paul Heyman: Do you know what kind of work I have in front of me, libe? Brock is doing the King of the Ring right now, he's got a match with Trent Barreta that I have to interview for in a few minutes, and I am looking at his house show bookings to make sure they don't conflict with his other commitments. You know I would love to go to every single school event that Jacob's a part of but you know I can't. Especially this time of the month.
Heyman listened a little longer, his brow furrowing in irritation.
Paul Heyman: He's going into the 8th grade! He's not even graduating! It's a shvindel, I tell you! They keep coming up with these ways to get parents to shell out their hard earned money to celebrate bupkis! Believe me, Wes Ikeda is a fair man, but I can't leave the road and come running home for every single this and that his school wants to do! They're a bunch of meshugenahs! Soon they're gonna give out ribbons for making it to the end of the day!
Paul's yiddish accent was in full swing, along with his frustration.
Paul Heyman: My dear, I worked for a crazy skeynim named Vince McMahon for years, and he fired a man that took off some time to deal with a STROKE. The fact that I even have a job in the business after what I told Vince he could do with his, is a miracle. Now Marla, if Jacob has a piano recital, or a championship football game, or he's going to a state debate tournament, I'll be there. You know I will. We'll talk about this later, I have company. Alright, libe. I'll call you later. Mwah.
Heyman hit the End Call button on his smartphone and placed it on the table. Lesnar walked over to Heyman and they exchanged glances. Heyman leaned back in his chair and exhaled sharply. He looked over at Gary, who had some papers in his hand, and looked uncomfortable to say the least.
Paul Heyman: Is there something I can help you with, Mr...
Gary: Uh, Gary. I'm one of Joanie's assistants. She sent me to bring this stuff to you.
Paul outstretched his arms.
Paul Heyman: By all means, Gary.
Gary tentatively walked towards Paul Heyman, glancing back at Brock Lesnar multiple times, who seemed amused by the entire situation. Lesnar crossed his arms and stared a whole through him, not attempting to alleviate his stress in any way. Gary handed the papers to Heyman and stepped back.
Paul Heyman: And what are these?
Gary: These, uh... they are booking schedules for all upcoming house shows in the month of June. Joanie wants you to look them over and suggest some changes. She would have brought them herself, but they called her away to deal with some last minute changes to the show tonight.
Paul Heyman: Does this paperwork come with an extra paycheck, Gary?
Gary: I, um... I don't, uh--
Paul scowled, muttering the Yiddish phrase "Gey shlog dayn kop in vant" under his breath, which meant "Go bang your head against the wall". Gary seemed frozen for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond. Heyman sensed this, and put his hands up in surrender.
Paul Heyman: You know what, Gary? Don't worry about it. I'm just a little excited after the conversation I had to have with my lovely wife, but that's none of your concern. You may tell Joanie that I'll have some suggestions ready for each show before the end of the night.
Gary: Okay, but...
Brock Lesnar took a menacing step towards Gary and pointed at the door. Gary yelped and left the room faster than he ever thought possible. Lesnar smirked and turned back to Paul, who rolled his eyes.
Paul Heyman: Didn't have to scare the dreck out of him, you know. He was wound up tighter than a snare drum with you standing there.
Lesnar grinned and pointed back at the door with a closed fist and an outstretched thumb.
Brock Lesnar: Fuck that guy.
Paul Heyman: Indeed. I'll take a look at this later. You and I have an interview to conduct, about one of my former clients no less.
Heyman stood up, smoothed out his jacket, and headed to the door. Lesnar put on an F5 beanie and followed him out.
~~~
EBWF.net Exclusive Interview - June 11, 2015
The camera opened up on Paul Heyman, Brock Lesnar, and Michael Cole. Cole was sitting down in a plush red chair on the left side, and opposite him was the duo of Lesnar and Heyman. Lesnar was leaned back casually in his chair, his massive arms draping over the arm rests. Heyman's posture was much more upright and proper. The camera centered on Cole as he gave his intro.
Michael Cole: Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Michael Cole, and I have the opportunity to sit down with one of the guys with the most buzz around him right now, Brock Lesnar. With him tonight is his advocate, Paul Heyman.
Paul Heyman: I'm disappointed, Michael. Am I not generating "buzz" as well? Surely, becoming the man that brokered an alliance between the two most unlikely of athletes deserves some level of chatter in the world of wrestling, wouldn't you think?
Michael Cole: Well it certainly wasn't expected, I will give you that. Paul, I'll start with you. Paul, what was your strategy to convince John Cena to join your cause? A man like John Cena, who had the entire world looking up to him, for a man like that to just one day turn on his own ideals... you must have had a plan in mind.
Paul Heyman: Michael, I know it's hard to believe me, because people perceive me to be a "bad guy".
Paul used his air quotes.
Paul Heyman: But the truth is, I am not the evil schemer in this situation that people like to make me out to be. Many people misuse the principle of Occam's Razor. Do you know what that is, Michael? It's the principle that states of all the possible answers of a given question, the one that makes the least assumptions should be the one you focus on. So, let's focus. Let's take Paul Heyman out of the equation for a moment, shall we? You have John Cena. The man who became the face of an entire ERA of wrestling. The man who transcended his role as a "sports entertainer" and, quite literally, became wrestling to many people. He was the face of an entire legion of young children, who watched his Hustle, Loyalty, and Respect each and every week, and idolized him. Every move he made, every person he defeated, became the measuring stick by which EVERYONE in the business was measured. That is a lot to put on any one man's shoulders. Even ones as strong as John Cena's. And then.. you have Wes Ikeda. A man who took that popularity, took that image, and exploited it for every nickel and dime he could get his grubby hands on. He threw John Cena on magazine covers and put him in movies, plastered him on billboards and taxi cabs. He took the hard work that John Cena had done and monetized it, leaving a pittance by comparison to the man who had actually done the work. Now, frame that information into your inquiry and ask the REAL question. What plan would I need? All John Cena needed to do was come to the conclusion on his own. Which he did. You know why? Because John Cena is a brilliant wrestler and a shrewd businessman. And once the wool was removed from his eyes, he found his way back to reality like that.
Heyman snapped his fingers sharply.
Paul Heyman: But enough of John Cena. We're here to talk about one man. The man next to me. The man who you can call the future King of the Ring, Bawwwwwrrooooooccckkkkk.... LESNAR.
Michael adjusted his tie and shifted in his seat, glancing over at Lesnar, who looked about as casual as he could be.
Michael Cole: Fair enough. Brock, tonight you're going to face Trent Barreta for the first round of the King of the Ring tournament. What are your thoughts about this matchup.
Lesnar smirked, seemingly unconcerned. He casually gestured his head in Heyman's direction.
Paul Heyman: Michael, I want to take you back in time for a moment. Just far enough to document my presence in the EBWF. When I first got here, it was my prerogative to attempt to call everyone's attention to the men and women of the EBWF that I perceived to be "the forgotten ones", so to speak. Back then, the EBWF was riding high on guys like Randy Orton, and John Cena, and The Miz. It seemed like there was a certain caste of people that Wes Ikeda associated himself with, and those were the guys that made it. Those were the guys carrying around the World Championship. They got opportunity after opportunity after opportunity. And when I looked at that, it made me mad. So I came to EBWF and I became the banner holder for guys like AJ Styles, Ted Dibiase Jr, Cody Rhodes, and Trent Barreta. I took to social media and defended them on Twitter. I angled for them to get more shots at the spotlight backstage. I wanted to make sure that they had all the opportunities that the other guys had. Boy, was that a mistake.
Heyman rolled his eyes dramatically.
Paul Heyman: I realized something when I went through that ordeal, Michael. When I had Trent Barreta and Cody Rhodes complaining to me because Syxx was in the King of the Ring tournament and the younger guys were getting eliminated, that was the moment when I began thinking about my exit strategy. I... am an advocate. My job is to provide opportunities for those who will scratch, claw, maim, and kill to take advantage of them. My job is to take a wrestler and channel his rage, his hunger, and his talent, and point it in the right direction. I didn't see that hunger, or passion that drives a man to do great... or terrible things. And so I moved on. I tried everything. I even tried focusing AJ Styles into a killing machine that could take out Randy Orton and become World Champion. But failed spectacularly, and I was left with nothing. Until I came to a sudden realization.
Heyman tilted his head with a smirk.
Paul Heyman: Occam's Razor. The simplest answer first. I had been so concerned with trying to instill the BEAST in other athletes. That was my focus, and my grand failure. I was trying to make Trent Barreta into a conqueror, when he was never going to be that. I was trying to make AJ Styles a destroyer, a beast incarnate, and he couldn't handle the pressure. This led me to the ultimate solution. Why try to make a Beast, when you already have a Beast? So I unleashed Brock Lesnar on the EBWF, because he was the simple answer to my problem. Brock Lesnar was a man I could count on to bring unimaginable, unfathomable levels of violence to the EBWF and absolutely devastate anything in his path. That brings us to today, with you sitting here asking me what Brock Lesnar's thoughts are going into his first round match with Trent... Barreta.
A twisted smile crept up on Heyman's features as he leaned in, clasping his hands together.
Paul Heyman: Michael, if you could use one word that sums up my client, what word would you choose?
Cole glanced over at Lesnar, who despite is lackadaisical attitude, still was just about the most intimidating thing on two legs.
Michael Cole: Scary.
Heyman pointed at him.
Paul Heyman: Right-o, my man. That's a good one. See, I might even pick that word as well. Six foot three, two hundred and ninety five pounds of Beast. MMA Champion. Amateur wrestling Champion. EBWF World Champion. For God's sake, he even has a broadsword tattooed on his chest. "Scary", as about as apropos as it gets. You want to know what word I would use to describe Trent Barreta?
Heyman shrugged.
Paul Heyman: Games. I'd use the word games to sum up Trent Barreta. And I don't mean that constant tweets that I see filling up my feed about Trent Barreta and the latest achievement he's managed to earn on Call of Duty, or Mario Kart, or whatever nonsense he's playing this week. No, I mean that Trent Barreta thinks that the business of wrestling is fun and games. Where's the intensity? Where's the sense of urgency? And without either of those, how can you ever look across the ring from a man like Brock Lesnar and even hope to survive, let alone win? My client has two things on his mind at any given time. When he's at home on his farm in Minnesota, he's entire focus is to provide for his family. He shoulders that burden almost exclusively, and it becomes the very essence of his being. But... when he gets into the ring, his focus changes. When he gets into the ring, the entire essence of his being becomes devoted to making sure the guy across from him... doesn't get up. That's it, Michael. He doesn't worry about if his opponent has any friends. He doesn't concern himself with who that person might be loved by. He doesn't care if his opponent is a father to someone, a son, a brother, a husband. This is no game to Brock Lesnar.
Michael Cole: You've got to have some respect for Trent Barreta's accomplishments. For a man of his size, he's gotten farther than most would consider even possible. He's defeated many athletes much larger than him, so he may have a strategy to deal with Brock Lesnar.
Paul Heyman: You just don't get it, do you? There is no strategy for Brock Lesnar. Brock Lesnar does not fight the same way in one match that he did in the last match. There's no preparation, because Brock Lesnar is not just some big guy that can be toppled by agility and speed. Brock Lesnar is a once in a lifetime athlete. He can run the 100 yard dash in olympic qualifying time. He's as agile as Trent Barreta, he's as fast as Trent Barreta. He's stronger, more focused, a better striker, and a better wrestler than Trent Barreta. This is not just some magical situation where there's some x-factor that will give Trent the underdog victory. There's no happy ending to this match.
With that, Heyman stood up. Lesnar followed suit.
Paul Heyman: It all comes back to Occam's Razor, Michael. Look at Trent Barreta, then look at Brock Lesnar. The simplest answer is the right one.
Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar headed off camera, and the EBWF logo flashed across the bottom right corner and faded.
