Becoming A Wrestler

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Sandro wiped a hand down his face, his body aching from the war he and Roode had waged. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn't let frustration set in, not now. He had to finish this.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, his movements deliberate. He looked down at Roode, who was barely stirring, his chest heaving as he tried to recover. Sandro knew what he had to do. He stepped forward, grabbing Roode by the wrist and yanking him up to a standing position. Roode wobbled on shaky legs, his head hanging forward.

Sandro took a step back and delivered a stiff kick to Roode's knee, causing the veteran to drop slightly, his balance faltering. Sandro took advantage, sprinting to the ropes, rebounding with speed, and launching himself forward, his knee connecting squarely with Roode's jaw.

Dragon's Shot!

The sickening impact echoed through the arena, and Roode crumpled to the mat, motionless. The crowd gasped, then erupted in cheers as Sandro stood over his fallen opponent. But he wasn't done.

Sandro ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, exhaling sharply. Instead of going for the pin, he grabbed Roode's wrist again, pulling him up. Roode's legs were barely supporting him, he was dazed, his body barely holding together after the relentless battle.

Sandro took off to the ropes one more time, rebounded, and hooked Roode's head in mid air, twisting violently as he dropped Roode face first onto the mat with a Dragon Twist Cutter!

The crowd exploded, knowing this was it. Sandro immediately rolled over and hooked the leg, pressing his body against Roode's, his grip tight.

One… two… three!

The referee's hand slapped the mat for the final count, and the moment the bell rang, the entire arena erupted.

"Here is your winner… and still the FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion… Sandro Zhang!"

Sandro collapsed back onto the mat, breathing heavily, his limbs feeling like lead. He had done it. He had survived the war and retained his championship.

The referee knelt beside him, handing him the FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship, the gold shimmering under the bright arena lights. Sandro clutched it against his chest for a moment before sitting up, taking in the energy of the crowd.

Fans were on their feet, chanting his name.

"Sandro! Sandro! Sandro!"

Slowly, Sandro pushed himself to his feet, using the ropes for support. His body ached, his ribs throbbed, but he still managed to lift the title high above his head, sending the fans into another frenzy.

Bobby Roode, still lying on the mat, slowly began to stir, his face contorted in pain. He had given everything he had, but tonight, Sandro had been just a step ahead. The referee checked on him, but Roode waved him off, slowly sitting up.

Sandro turned and looked at Roode. For a moment, neither man said anything, just two wrestlers who had pushed each other to their absolute limits. Then, after a few seconds, Sandro extended his hand.

Roode stared at it, his chest still heaving. Then, with a slow nod, he accepted the handshake. The crowd roared in approval, appreciating the show of respect between the two competitors.

Roode gave Sandro a pat on the back before rolling out of the ring, allowing the champion to have his moment.

Sandro climbed the turnbuckle, raising the title high once more, soaking in the adulation of the fans. He had proven himself once again, not just as a champion but as a performer capable of putting on matches that would be remembered.

As the show went off the air, Sandro stood tall in the ring, FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship draped over his shoulder, victorious in another classic battle.

The match between Sandro and Bobby Roode had barely ended, but it was already making waves online. Within minutes, social media platforms like Twitter and the FCW Official Forum were flooded with posts, comments, and reactions from fans who had just witnessed what many were calling an instant classic.

The words Sandro Vs Roode began trending, with fans dissecting every moment of the match, from the high flying maneuvers to the dramatic near falls and the emotional finish.

On Twitter, one fan wrote, "That match was PPV worthy! Sandro is on another level, but Bobby Roode? Man, he's got 'future world champion' written all over him. FCW, give this man a push!"

Another fan chimed in, "Sandro's third title defense, and he just keeps getting better. But let's not sleep on Bobby Roode, the dude's got the charisma, the skills, and the look. Main event material for sure."

The FCW Official Forum was equally buzzing. Threads popped up with titles like "Sandro vs. Roode: Match of the Year Contender?" and "Is Bobby Roode the Next Big Thing in FCW?" Fans praised Sandro's ability to elevate every opponent he faced, but the conversation quickly shifted to Bobby Roode's potential.

Many agreed that while Roode wasn't quite ready for the world title scene yet, his performance against Sandro had proven he had what it took to be a main eventer in the near future. His technical prowess, his ability to tell a story in the ring, and his undeniable charisma had left a lasting impression.

Backstage, the atmosphere was just as electric. Sandro had barely made it through the curtain when Bobby Roode approached him, a wide grin on his face. The two men clasped hands, and Bobby pulled Sandro into a quick, respectful hug.

"Hell of a match, kid," Bobby said, clapping Sandro on the shoulder. "You brought out the best in me tonight. That was one of the toughest fights I've had in a long time."

Sandro smiled, still catching his breath. "You're no slouch yourself, Bobby. You pushed me to my limits. If it wasn't for that Dragon's Shot at the end, I don't know if I would've walked out with the title."

Bobby chuckled, shaking his head. "That move of yours is a killer. Literally. But seriously, Sandro, you've got something special. You're carrying this company on your back, and you're doing it with class."

Sandro nodded, appreciating the praise. "Thanks, Bobby. That means a lot coming from you. But don't sell yourself short. You've got everything it takes to be a main eventer here. The skills, the charisma, the presence, it's all there. It's just a matter of time before you're holding gold."

Bobby's eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of curiosity in them. "You think so?"

"I know so," Sandro replied confidently. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you get a chance to showcase that talent sooner rather than later. FCW's always looking for new stars, and you've got 'star' written all over you."

Bobby smirked, clearly intrigued by Sandro's words. "Well, I'll keep an eye out, then. Thanks for the vote of confidence, champ. And hey, if you ever need someone to step up and challenge you again, you know where to find me."

Sandro laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. But for now, I think I need a hot shower and about twelve hours of sleep."

The two men shared a laugh before parting ways, Bobby heading off to get checked by the medical team while Sandro made his way toward the locker room. But before he could get there, he was intercepted by Taylor and Windham, who were waiting for him with wide grins on their faces.

"Sandro!" Taylor called out, stepping forward to clap him on the back. "That match was insane, man. You and Bobby tore the house down. Seriously, one of the best matches I've seen in a long time."

Windham nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, dude, you were on fire out there. That Dragon's Shot? Brutal. And that Dragon Twist Cutter at the end? Chef's kiss, man. Perfect finish."

Sandro chuckled, appreciating the support from his friends. "Thanks, guys. It was a tough one, but Bobby brought it. He's no joke."

"Neither are you," Taylor said, his tone sincere. "You're carrying this company right now, and you're doing it like a true champion. It's inspiring, man."

Sandro waved off the compliment, though he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. "I'm just doing my job. But hey, enough about me. What's up with you two? You look like you've got something on your mind."

Windham's expression shifted, a mix of excitement and nervousness crossing his face. "Well, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. In about three days, I've got my tryout exam. You know, the one that decides whether I get my official wrestler contract or if I stay on my training deal. It's a big deal for me, and… I was hoping you'd be there. You know, for moral support."

Sandro's eyes softened, and he placed a hand on Windham's shoulder. "Of course, man. I'll be there. You've been putting in the work, and it's paying off. This is your moment to show everyone what you're made of."

Taylor chimed in, "Yeah, Windham's been killing it in training. He's ready for this, no doubt. But having you there, Sandro, it'll mean a lot to him. You're kind of a big deal around here."

Sandro laughed, shaking his head. "I'm just a guy who loves wrestling. But seriously, Windham, I'll be there. You've got this. Just go out there, do your thing, and show them why you belong."

Windham smiled, clearly relieved. "Thanks, Sandro. That means a lot. I'll make sure to give it everything I've got."

The three men continued talking for a few more minutes, discussing the match and sharing stories from the night. But as the conversation wound down, Sandro couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie and pride.

FCW was more than just a wrestling company, it was a family. And moments like these, celebrating victories, supporting each other, and pushing each other to be better were what made it all worth it.

As Sandro made his way to the locker room, his body still aching from the grueling match with Bobby Roode, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. The crowd's energy, the respect from his peers, and the knowledge that he had once again proven himself as a champion filled him with pride. But as he stepped into the locker room, his mind began to shift to the next challenge—supporting Windham in his tryout. Sandro knew how much this meant to his friend, and he was determined to be there for him, just as Windham had always been there for him.

Meanwhile, back in the Gorilla position, Dusty Rhodes and Steve Keirn were deep in conversation, their eyes still glued to the monitors replaying highlights of Sandro and Bobby's match. The two veterans had seen countless battles over the years, but even they couldn't deny the magic that had unfolded in the ring that night.

"Man, what a match," Dusty said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. "Sandro's been a star since day one, but Bobby? He really stepped up tonight. I mean, we knew he had it in him, but damn, he showed out."

Steve nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah, Sandro's been carrying this company on his back, and he's doing it with class. But Bobby? He's got that 'it' factor. Charisma, skill, presence—he's got it all. And you know what? I think it's time we give him a shot."

Dusty raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Steve grinned. "If you're thinkin' about putting him in the FCW North American Championship tournament, then yeah, I'm thinkin' it. Sandro's been saying for a while now that Bobby's got main event potential, and tonight proved it. Let's see what he can do on his own."

Dusty chuckled, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "I like it. Let's stack that tournament with some real talent. Kofi, Nick, Taylor, and now Bobby. That's a hell of a lineup when it was even completed yet. And you know what? It's gonna make that title mean somethin' right out the gate."

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Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 19 (2009)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style

Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)

Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions & 1 FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion