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A Flair For the Game: Furman

Oh, you think the Nature Boy was just going to walk away?

I know what all of you out there in TV land are thinkin' right now. You're thinking that you're looking at a man that's been humbled. A man that's been knocked off his perch.

A man, that is no longer the man.

You think losing a game means something to a man with my career? You think I never been slapped around before? Beat up? Fallen on my face?



You think this is the first time I've seen my own blood! NO SIR!

You know who I am? You know what kind of man I am? I don't take days off! I don't cry over spilt milk! I ain't some weak-minded loser that whines about what happens! That's what life is like when you want to compete with the best! When things don't go my way, I pick myself up! Dust myself off! I go back to the drawing board, and I formulate a plan. I choose my targets. I bide my time, and then I DO. WHAT I. DO. BEST.

I get back in that ring, and I beat people. AND I BEAT ‘EM BAD. I style, and I profile, and I give people the show that hey paid GOOD MONEY to see, because I'm a finely trained athlete! Then I go back to the locker room, I take my shower, I get in my luxury limousine and I head to the best club in town where there's a line of girls A MILE LONG just PRAYING that they can get out of that line and into another one to take a ride. On Space Mountain. WOOOOO!

Furman! I don't know who you are, I don't know where you're from. But when I get you in that stadium I'm gonna beat you, and when I'm done you're gonna KNOW! Beyond all shadow of a doubt! Just. Who. Ric. Flair. Is.