Two ships set sail on the turbulent sea. The fishermen on board are hunting for prey.
The first ship is kitted out with the best, modern equipment. It’s glistens like gold in the sun.
The captain steering this vessel is prodigous but naive. He’s used to hunting goldfish in a pond but he’s desperate to catch some big fish from dangerous waters.
The second ship isn’t much to look at. It’s like something from a bygone era. But the captain has been fishing this sea for a long time.
The ships find their hunting spots but a wild storm hint. The old ship’s captain drops anchor. It’s strong, made of reliable material and steadies the ship’s position against the torrent.
On the modern ship, there is no anchor so it’s tossed around by the wind and rain, sails ragged, in need of something keep in steady and not blown off course.
In desperation the captain tries several strategies but all are unsuccessful. Without an anchor that vessel is at the mercy of the storm, which showed none by sending it crashing into rocks.
Cael, we are both here on this rough body of water called OSW, risking life and limb to make our catch.
You’ve got it all: the prestige and all the gear. You’ve got the shine from that gold medal to prove it.
Now you’re through fishing for small fry in that pond where you cut your teeth; inside The Slaughterhouse you came with fresh bait to hook some big ones.
We’ve both found our fishing spot and we both know the catch we desire: the OSW World Championship.
It’s eluded both of our hooks so far but we’ve both learnt it is prey that can only be caught during the wildest storms.
When that storm comes we’re going to have to drop anchor to stop the torrent blowing us into the rocks.
And here is where we differ, Cael.
Your ship may have the look, much of the equipment needed for big prize fishing, while mine looks weather-worn.
But on my ship is a great, heavy anchor and can’t yours.
Because ever since you set sail and entered the storm you’ve been spinning around, totally out of control.
You tried several ways to anchor your vessel. You believed in your gold but discovered it didn’t have enough weight to hold you steady.
Then you put your trust in others but learned the hard way that friends are as light as air in a wild sea.
Now you have turned to faith. You think Vayikra and the mission to resurrect Yahweh can ground you but you are still been tossed about by the storm like a ship without an anchor and heading straight towards the rocks.
No such trouble for me because I am anchored by something strong and unshakeable.
The greater good.
It is the material that The Black Hand is forged from and no storm can break it.
From your shipwreck on the rocks you will learn the lesson that no man can flourish without an anchor.