~Memoir~
~Denver, Colorado~
~July 25th 2021~
|
Weird.
Strange.
Fucking bizarre.
I suppose those are words I'd use to describe what it felt like arriving at the Ball Arena. Walking through those halls and seeing some of the biggest stars of today, it felt fucking surreal at times. I was just there, nobody really paid me much attention, I was almost invisible.
It used to be when you were new, the first thing you did was walk around and introduce yourself to everyone, shake their hands and kiss their arse. I didn't do that. I wasn't there to impress them. I was there to prove something to myself. I think I fucking did that.
There was this one moment, I was on the apron, bodies flying all the over the place and I was hanging on for dear fucking life. Then I heard it, I'd been out there for eight minutes in front of a new crowd thirty fucking years after I last worked and they were shouting my name. I got caught up in it, and the next thing I know, SMACK!
I'm on my arse and out of the match. Third place finish.
Third place though. That's nothing to complain about and lets be honest, probably a lot better than anyone expected from me. Especially my boy, Craig. I wonder if any of them watched.
Walking to the back was even more surreal than arriving but I was too fucking exhausted to really care. I remember a few people coming over but I don't remember much of what was said, I was too busy trying to get air in my lungs. I do remember one lad saying "good job kid" which made me laugh, my kids are probably older than him.
After catching my breath I just took in the rest of the show, the in and out of ring action, the atmosphere, it was fucking sublime.
I thought it would be enough. I told myself it was just once. I just needed to experience it. But after hearing those people shout my name, and after standing in the back of the arena listening to them roar... the "This Is Awesome" chant during the cage match... The shock when Solomon Cain revealed himself... The silence when Gabriel Ohio pinned Skrabz... The deafening boos when Leah Aguero retired Eavan Maloney...
As I took each consecutive event in I realised that once could never be enough.
The backstage area was abuzz with excitement when the show wrapped up and as I made my way through the back, slowly taking in what I expected to my last moments in an MHW arena, I crossed paths with Robert Mack.
"I like what I saw. I'll be in touch."
That was all he said.
But that was all I needed to hear.
"No, I didn't watch it." Craigs words stung as they exited the phone's speaker and hit Bobby's ears. "I'm not encouraging you."
"I finished third. Got a few eliminations too." Bobby told him, undeterred.
"Good for you. When is your flight back to England?" Craig asked, refusing to acknowledge his dads previous statement.
"That's the thing, boy. I'm not coming back. Not yet." Bobby informed him with determination in his voice.
"What? Why? I thought you said it was a one time deal." Craigs words came with an edge of concern to them.
"I said it was one night deal with a view to extending depending on my performance. I finished third. I have a full time contract now. I take it you didn't watch Ammo either?"
"No, I didn't."
"I know, if you had you would already know I'd signed." Bobby informed his eldest child, a tinge of disappointment evident in his tone.
"So how long to do you plan to hold onto this?"
"Honestly, boy... For as long as I fucking can. I should have been doing this my entire life."
"If that's how you feel I can't stop you, but I don't want any part of it."
"If that's how you feel..."
"It is."
"Okay. Well, we'll talk soon."
"Yeah... please be careful Dad."
"I will boy, I will."
Mile High Wrestling....
I came to you a broken man.
I asked you to fix me.
But when I stood in that ring and looked around at the wrestlers I was sharing it with, when I looked out into that sea of people in the seats... I realised then that it was on me to fix myself.
And taking part in the Mile High Cup was just the first step of many on the road to recovery.
There are many more ahead, and I will take each one with a lead boot. I will stamp my way through, breathing deep, kicking and screaming if need be. Because the truth is, I don't know how long I can do this for.
My body still aches from the battle royal, it's been taking me a little longer to get up in the morning, my back hurts a little more than it used to, my legs crack a little louder but my heart beats stronger than it has in years.
There's life in this old dog yet.
And Robert Mack sees it.
While everyone else wrote me off, he wrote me on.
Full time contract.
No more one offs.
So on Ammo I will take part in my first singles match in three decades when I step into the Mile High ring with a Princess.
Britney Williams... Listen to me darling, me and you both have something to prove here. This is your first match in the company but you're a third generation wrestler, your family has pedigree in this business. So I'd be a fool to discount your credentials. On paper this match is yours for the taking, you have age on your side.
You have the eagerness of youth.
You have your best years ahead of you.
Mine are firmly behind me, and as I watch them disappear in the rear view mirror of life they only get further and further away. I don't know how much time I have left in this business, but one thing I do is I'm going to make the most of every second afforded to me.
Robert Mack has put his reputation on the line by giving me a job and the only thing I can do to return the favour is put my body on the line every time he asks me too.
And that brings us to Ammo.
It's me and you, Britney.
One on one.
And sweetheart, I haven't got anything to lose.
But I've still got a little more to give.
And I'm sorry...
But it's you that's going to be on the receiving end of it.
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