Letters to The Bloodline

(FanPost promoted to the front page)

This is a collection of love letters, each one written to a member of the Bloodline.

Dear Sami,

I hate when people say "I'm happy as long as you're happy." Or when people ask, "Why can't you just be happy for me?" I was watching the Steve Wilkos Show, and one of his guests was a woman who was in a manipulative (and sometimes abusive) relationship. She was clearly settling for just being in any relationship where someone exhibits hints of love because it's better than nothing.

And the woman's father walked onto the stage. He looked like the definition of "old man strength." And he told her that she needed to end her relationship and that the man she was with was no good. And she asked, "Why can't you just be happy for me?" And I was like, "YOU FOOL!" The father had a more delicate response. I think he said something like, "How can I be happy when you're being treated like this?"

I don't know why I thought of that. Anyway, I'm happy that you are happy with the Bloodline. I understand the feeling of wanting to be accepted.

Years ago, I went to a small church in a mini-mall to impress a girl. The speaker that night stopped his sermon to address me. I was sitting in the front row. He looked me in my eyes and said—on a live microphone, mind you—that someone in my past, someone I wanted to be a part of my life, made me feel rejected and unwanted, and I had been chasing acceptance ever since. And I carried that and it dragged me down in my life. The rejection, not the speaker.

I'm not sure why I told you that. Anyway, I've seen how a handshake with Jimmy, a fist bump with Roman, or the embrace of Jey has made you feel wanted. And I love that for you. I have my concerns, but I just love seeing you smile and being happy and being around people who accept you. Acceptance is such a cover of warmth that it trumps all things.

I feel like I haven't seen you happy in a very long time. Maybe since, I dunno, December of 2014? That's weirdly specific, I know. Seeing you happy brings me joy, and I want that joy to last forever. Know that you are loved. Please be careful.

With love,


Dear Roman,

I was watching the Royal Rumble with my girlfriend. Not the one you won. Although, it's crazy how many times you've been one of the final two competitors in the Royal Rumble Match only to lose. Not that it matters, because you're great! Sorry for not saying that first, my Tribal Chief.

Anyway, my girlfriend saw you for approximately 1.7 seconds and asked, "Who is he?!" I immediately became jealous. I knew she wasn't asking for your name. She wanted to know your overall situation. I told her your marital status. I mentioned your battle with cancer, your huge amount of success, the Bloodline, and that you're related to The Rock (which meant nothing to her).

My girlfriend then asked, "He's married? He's so strong! What must that be like for his wife?" I hate her. My girlfriend, not your wife. But then my girlfriend said she respected how driven you were to be successful in work, life, and with your family. In that moment, I really appreciated you.

I love the leader and final boss you have become. You're powerful, good-looking, and I aspire to be you, someone who takes the reins of his life and work. I now realize I should use the word rein, but I don't care. That's how powerful you are. I naturally invoke your name just to discuss greatness.

Some fans see a person who is paranoid. I see a person who is afraid of losing the status he's gained. I'm not as great at teaching the way you're great at this wrestling thing, and yet, I still feel like I understand your position. You created resolve from fear. You went through too much adversity to not be on top. I'm sorry for ever booing you, but I'm also not sorry because it drove you to become the Tribal Chief we see today. I acknowledge you. And I love you. I hope that's not weird.

With love,


Dear Jimmy,

"I have witnessed the softening of the hardest of hearts by a simple smile." I found that quote a few minutes ago because I was thinking about you. Whenever you smile, even in the tensest situations, it makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. When you smile, I smile. And I never know exactly why you're smiling, or why I'm smiling, but keep smiling my dawg. You're too cool for this world.

With love,


Dear Jey,

In therapy, I learned a valuable lesson that I carry with me every day: my feelings are valid.

Your feelings are valid, Jey. You were the one who went through hell. You went through the worst of Roman just so everyone else can get a better version of him. Life shouldn't work that way, but sometimes life will cruelly ensure we don't get any benefit from being trampled on someone else's path to improvement.

Years ago, a girl I knew separated from her husband. Do you know what her biggest fear was? That he would be a better man to the next woman in his life. It was unfair. I felt her anger and disappointment. If he ever found the "next woman," I knew this girl would take that anger out on her. Thankfully, that never happened because the girl got back with her husband to start afresh. Ironically, I saw them on an episode of Steve Wilkos. Not the one I referred to earlier.

So I get what was going on with you and Sami because it was never really about Sami, was it? You didn't hate Sami. You hated how he was taken in and treated better by Roman.

And that feeling is valid. None of us want to be broken down and made to feel lesser than only to watch someone else, an outsider at that, be treated better. But you know what I love about you? You learned to forgive the Bloodline, forgive yourself, move forward and be stronger from it. The way you stick up for Sami and celebrate his joy is marvelous. That, my friend, is ucey!

With love,


Dear Solo,

I remember the first time I saw George St. Pierre. He was fighting Matt Serra. This was a rematch, and apparently Serra defeating him the first time was a massive upset. I believe it because St. Pierre absolutely mauled and demolished this dude. He was too strong, too violent, too smothering, too relentless, too everything.

As a UFC championship belt was being put around the waist of St. Pierre, I turned and looked at my best friend. I pointed at St. Pierre and said, "If I were ever trapped in a dark alley, and a gang of, I dunno, gang members stood in front of me, ready to hurt me, I would hope St. Pierre were there to fight them and carry me out of that alley in his arms."

I no longer see St. Pierre in that situation. I see you protecting me, you cool, bruising, attack-first-ask-questions-never, cold, bear-like, brooding mountain of a man.

With love,


Dear Paul,

You good? You look extremely stressed all the time. You carry every emotion. You're a walking "me when something happens" meme. You also look and dress like a true businessman, like Kevin O'Leary. Kudos for always reinventing yourself. Blink twice if you're in danger.

With love,


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