vs John Raide

Early morning in Tennessee. Sutton drove on through the night after the show to reach his second home, his home away from home. His BMW X5 ran hard through the night and he even lost a hour of time during his trip home. Daylight savings time and it just meant that the sun was going to be up quicker than normal. Not that Sutton was racing home to beat the sunrise, just the traffic along 81 south. He had to get past Knoxville, that was his only worry. 40 west can be a bitch in the morning even on a Sunday and Sutton was making real good time. With some good tunes, a 12 pack of redbull, two cans of chew he was ready to make it on the other of side of Knoxville come hell or high water. Once he did that, 75 south wouldn’t be that far away.

You might be asking yourself, Why 75 south? No? You’re not? Fine then be that way. The answer to the question you didn’t have is because 75 S leads to a little town called Spring City and it’s there in Spring City where Sutton bought himself a place to call home. You can find it at 105 Driftwood Ln. Google it.

There…..Sutton would find peace and quiet. A place to reflect, to regroup? A place to calm his mind for the next couple of days before another epic show down with one….

Josh Eagles.



Far away from Tennessee, hillbillies, drunks….okay maybe not drunks, but far from people missing teeth and wearing only overalls is New York City. Brooklyn actually, Bay Ridge Brooklyn if you must know and inside one of the many brownstones they have there is one that is home to the Monster himself, Steve Sinclair.

It’s early morning and the sun is just starting to break ground and enlighten everyone for the day because that is what the sun does, it brightens your day. Steve sits up in his bed, and as you guessed it’s a king size bed that looks like a full with him on it. He stretches and yawns. He has a bad case of bedhead going on and he runs his hand through his long black hair snagging tangles and breaking them as he does. He sits there for a second, with all of the years on him inside the ring, you just don’t spring up out of bed, throw up open a window, buff your chest out and exclaim “I’M HERE!” To the world. Nah this is a slow grind. Everything is tight, everything is cranky. Sludge is starting to pump through his heart slowly beating life into his sore joints. Steve flings the blanket off of him and slowly stands up, his knees pop and scream for mercy as he does. (He’s wearing boxers, relax) That first step, is like a lifting a 50 gallon steel drum full of concrete but Steve takes the first one and slowly the second step of the day is right behind him. His fitbit register this.

On top of his dresser in between two windows is all of his stuff. Phone, wallet, hair ties, money clip, loose change. The second drawer down is open slightly and his jeans hang from that drawer. He picks them up and snaps them and slowly slides them on. Steve who always been a workout buff as kept himself in good shape even though he’s far from an active wrestler. While he doesn’t have or maintain six pack abs these days, he’s not this fat tubby former wrestler who thinks he’s still awesome. He’s still in good shape, a couple of weeks in the gym and he could be back in tip top shape but after 20 years of wear and tear, even for someone who is in as a good shape as he is, still takes a toll. I don’t know if you know this but Father time is undefeated. Everyone at one point ends up tapping out to him.

He zips and buttons up his jeans and slides all of his stuff but his phone from the top of his dresser and stuffs it in his pockets. He then slides open the top draw and pulls out a plain grey shirt. Nothing fancy, no label, just a basic tee. He pulls that down that down over his head and then and only then he picks up his phone unplugging the charger from the bottom of it. As it fires up and comes to life Steve looks up and cranks his neck side to side trying to pop it. He wiggles his jaw as well and turns to leave his bedroom. As he makes his way towards the door of his bedroom he utters ”I need some coffee….” which signals that this is his first thought of the day…..



Spring City Tn, at 105 Driftwood LN is where we find Sutton’s X5. On the crowd by the driver’s side door in the driveway are a couple of empty Red Bull cans. The one garage door is open and the light is on. The door that leads to the rest of the house is wide open. The camera moves through the house, up the staircase into the main room of the house and into the kitchen where the sliding door that leads towards the deck is also open. On a table on the deck is a empty can of chew, the lid is sitting next to the can. The camera pans up to catch the yard that leads down to the stream that makes up the back yard. The camera catches Sutton sitting on a rock at the water's edge with a fresh jar of Shine in his hand, sipping it, nursing it.



Several hours later, Steve has worked out, cleaned up and he is ready to tackle the day. Walking out of the gym with his gym bag slung over his shoulder Steve ducks as he walks through the door.

”I love when guys talk and they say sh*t like they know me. Like they know what is going on inside my head. John Raide…...boy can that guy talk a big game and it’s clear as day that you have no idea who you’re getting in the ring with. This notion that I’m sitting around trying to think up a way of how I’m going to get out of this match is laughable. Clearly you didn’t do your homework. I have never backed out of a match, I don’t care you are, what you have done or what you think you’re going to do to me because when that bell rings, your little game plan you carefully planned out will be blown up in your face. I’m not some Tyler Raptor jerk off who talks alot of smack, thinks highly of himself and has done nothing in his career. In the matches that I have lost in my career, in those matches, I have achieved and accomplished more those match then what you have done in every single match of your career Raide. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not intimidated by you in the least. I’m fucking Chamber! I break people! I end fucking careers! I throw chumps from roof tops without a second thought. I have watched a guy die inside the ring after I beat him so badly he gave up the ultimate fight. That isn’t talk, that isn’t a pipedream or a rumor of something that happened in front of a dozen people with no witnesses to the crime. It happened live on pay per view with 10 thousand in the stands. That Raide, is what you call a show stopper and when you do something like, it sends a clear message across the sport landscape that I’m not one to be taken lightly. That guy, ran his mouth, ran his mouth and he ended up pissing me off and the end result was only one of us walked away from that match.”

Steve sets his bag down on the sidewalk.

”Now….I’m not standing here saying that Saturday night you’ll meet your end Raide but know this. I don’t give a shit who you are. I don’t care how badly you got beaten up and how much guts you displayed to take on Franco and beat him. That lughead from Philly….he ain’t me. What he has done in his career and what I have done are two entirely different planets if you get what I’m saying. I understand that you want to get your hands on Sutton, badly enough that you will sacrifice your body to get him in that ring. You want him so bad that you are willing to get into the ring and face me. That you will take on a giant. A monster, someone that the UWL has never seen in it’s ranks before. That above everything else Raide tells me that you have heart and I can’t ever knock someone for having heart because without that you won’t ever make in this sport. Look at the greats before us, look at the guys in the UWL hall of fame, they all have one trait among all of them….heart. But where you have heart, you lack brain cells. Unless you are certain that you can pick a fight with the biggest guy in the room and beat him, it’s in your best interest to not piss off the guy who can pick you up one hand and twist your neck like a twist tie. I didn’t get where I am, I didn’t become who I am, with the reputation that I have by having guys like you, beat me. Throughout my career, if you thought you had what it took to beat me, step on up big boy and let’s see what you got and it’s a fact that every single of those guys…...got put down. And that’s something that hasn’t stopped.

I’m fresh as a daisy Raide. I haven’t been implanted into the roof of a car and picked a fight with the baldie from Philly. You haven’t seen me laying in a hospital bed with a doctor telling me to stop. You haven’t seen me coughing up blood over the past two weeks. I’m injury free, ready to go out there and do what I do best.

Take chumps like you, Smack you around for a bit, and you know, throwing you out with the trash. This will be a battle like no other Raide, you have no idea what is in store for you. You don’t know what awaits for you and when it sinks in that you are in way over your head and that you find yourself with no way out and that your end is near…..that’s when I will send you on your way. That is when you come face to face with your reality…..
The bell will ring….
The last two words you will ever hear again will echo in your ears….
For this Raide, is your Final Call and you will fade away in the memories of everyone in that building.”

Steve picks his bag up and places the strap over his shoulder.

”I will place you with everyone else that stepped in front of me. In the ground.”

Steve walks off and the scene fades out.