I think people still look at me and see the air guitar guy. Then they remember, oh right—this guy will twist your knee backwards with a smile. ⤷ @KORcombat fan.
The rest of the gang tagged along, too.
Orange wandered off, Roddy wanted to fight somebody, and Willow was the only one who actually read the exhibits.
The Conglomeration has considered many career paths but a rock band is probably the least medically advisable.
Took a detour to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame today. Turns out, there is a place on Earth where you can appreciate a bunch of people making noise without having to get punched in the face.
Paris was a long way to go just to get kicked in the head by Marina Shafir, but that’s professional wrestling. We came in wanting to make a statement, and instead, the Death Riders got their hand raised. Next time, I’m gonna make sure somebody’s joints regret the day they met me.
Saturday was a pretty productive night for The Conglomeration.
We got in, we got our hands on some people, we got the win, and then the Death Riders decided to come out and stare at us like we’re supposed to be impressed. Let’s skip the starting contest, boys. That’s the old us.
Roddy put Jay away, Orange did Orange things, I kicked some people in the legs… pretty normal night for us.
New Level were sitting out there on watching the whole thing.
That’s fine. We’ll keep winning and eventually we’re gonna have another conversation about those belts.
Rebel Heart was a special night, and obviously the result isn’t what we wanted. But seeing what this night was about, seeing everybody come together and honor Rebel, it puts things in perspective. And if somebody wants to stand in our way, they better be ready to grapple.
Wembley was… a lot, but apparently my body can tolerate quite a bit, because I showed up with a black eye, got cleared, and then immediately went back to getting kicked in the face. Good decision-making.
#AEWAllIn
We didn’t walk out with the Trios Titles. That’s disappointing. I’m not gonna dress it up.
But The Conglomeration is still The Conglomeration. We’ve taken some hits, we’ve lost some fights, we’ve won some fights, and we’re still standing next to each other.
That’s what matters.
Last night didn’t go the way I wanted it to.
I said I’d break Nigel McGuinness’s ankle if that’s what it took to get to Wembley, and I meant it. His ankle was compromised, I saw an opening, and I went after it. That’s what you do in a tournament like this.
Had a lovely little tea with my best buds before All In. We finally got answers about Orange’s backpack, although if you ask Rachel, I’m not sure she’d say the answers were worth the questions. The day-old macaroons and pastries, however, absolutely delivered.
He was better than me last night.
So I raised his hand.
And then I went back to the hotel with a black eye and a bruised ego, which, honestly, is probably a pretty accurate summary of my quest for the Continental title.
Good luck at Wembley, Nigel.
Now go win the damn thing.
Last night didn’t go the way I wanted it to.
I said I’d break Nigel McGuinness’s ankle if that’s what it took to get to Wembley, and I meant it. His ankle was compromised, I saw an opening, and I went after it. That’s what you do in a tournament like this.
You find the weakness and you exploit it.
Problem was… Nigel’s tougher than I gave him credit for.
I’m disappointed. Obviously. I’d much rather be walking into All In than sitting here watching Nigel take my spot.
But I can’t be angry at him for beating me at my own game.