Post by halfnelson on Sept 9, 2024 3:32:02 GMT
Setting: Yorkeys Knob, Queensland, Australian a laid-back beachside pub with the Coral Sea glistening in the distance. Locals in thongs and boardies are gathered around as the late afternoon sun casts long shadows over the sandy streets. Inside the pub, Half-Nelson McGrath, pint in hand, leans against the bar, eyes gleaming with confidence.
McGrath: “You know, mate, sittin' here at Yorkeys Knob, lookin’ out at the water, I’m thinkin’—what a bloody perfect place to talk about my next win. Barry Bridges? That old bloke’s gonna be flatter than a cane toad on the highway when I’m done with him.”
A few locals chuckle, sipping their XXXX beers as McGrath takes a swig of his own, resting the glass on the bar.
McGrath: “He hasn’t stepped foot in a ring in yonks, but he reckons he’s still got what it takes to be Commonwealth Champ. Fair dinkum, if he thinks he can stroll back in after all these years, he’s got another thing comin'. I’ve been trainin’ hard... well, alright, maybe not as much lately, but I’m still in better nick than he is!”
The bar crowd roars with laughter, and McGrath winks, clearly loving the attention.
McGrath: “Look at what I’ve done this year—Queensland Open Poundage Cup winner, Rookie of the Year. Barry? He’s still livin' off his past glories like a bloke bragging about catching the biggest fish ten years ago. He’s out of his depth, and when we get to Tonga for that Commonwealth belt, he’s gonna feel every bit of it.”
McGrath leans forward, a glint of determination in his eyes.
McGrath: “Let’s be real. Aussies beat the Poms at everything. We thrash ‘em at cricket, rugby, whatever. Wrestling’s no different. Bridges might’ve held that belt once, but it’s my time now. When I get him in that ring, he’ll be wishing he’d stayed on the couch. And once I’ve finished with him, those European and American promoters’ll come knocking.”
He slams his pint down on the bar, standing tall as the locals nod in agreement.
McGrath: “So, here’s to the fight of my life—and showing that washed-up Pom who the real champ is. From Yorkeys Knob to Tonga, that Commonwealth belt’s comin’ home with me.”
The pub erupts in cheers, the sound rolling out into the warm Queensland evening as McGrath raises his glass one more time, grinning from ear to ear.
McGrath: “You know, mate, sittin' here at Yorkeys Knob, lookin’ out at the water, I’m thinkin’—what a bloody perfect place to talk about my next win. Barry Bridges? That old bloke’s gonna be flatter than a cane toad on the highway when I’m done with him.”
A few locals chuckle, sipping their XXXX beers as McGrath takes a swig of his own, resting the glass on the bar.
McGrath: “He hasn’t stepped foot in a ring in yonks, but he reckons he’s still got what it takes to be Commonwealth Champ. Fair dinkum, if he thinks he can stroll back in after all these years, he’s got another thing comin'. I’ve been trainin’ hard... well, alright, maybe not as much lately, but I’m still in better nick than he is!”
The bar crowd roars with laughter, and McGrath winks, clearly loving the attention.
McGrath: “Look at what I’ve done this year—Queensland Open Poundage Cup winner, Rookie of the Year. Barry? He’s still livin' off his past glories like a bloke bragging about catching the biggest fish ten years ago. He’s out of his depth, and when we get to Tonga for that Commonwealth belt, he’s gonna feel every bit of it.”
McGrath leans forward, a glint of determination in his eyes.
McGrath: “Let’s be real. Aussies beat the Poms at everything. We thrash ‘em at cricket, rugby, whatever. Wrestling’s no different. Bridges might’ve held that belt once, but it’s my time now. When I get him in that ring, he’ll be wishing he’d stayed on the couch. And once I’ve finished with him, those European and American promoters’ll come knocking.”
He slams his pint down on the bar, standing tall as the locals nod in agreement.
McGrath: “So, here’s to the fight of my life—and showing that washed-up Pom who the real champ is. From Yorkeys Knob to Tonga, that Commonwealth belt’s comin’ home with me.”
The pub erupts in cheers, the sound rolling out into the warm Queensland evening as McGrath raises his glass one more time, grinning from ear to ear.