by Carrie Dunn
“At the time, I was in a very difficult position in my life. I didn’t have any money. I was struggling to know what I was going to do with the rest of my life – I could have been trying to get a different job, move into a different sphere, and that sort of information out there, which was incorrect, could have really affected me had I been married, had I had children.
“Any personal relationships in my life could really have been screwed up by somebody just deciding ‘I heard this, therefore I’m going to put it out there on the internet’, and I think that’s the trouble with the internet – it’s so anonymous, and it’s so easy to put anything out there, and then people jump on it. It’s far too easy for people just to say what they want and not think of the repercussions of it.”
His film is a testament to his single-mindedness and dedication as well as the esteem he is held in by wrestling fans; he wrote, produced, directed and edited it all himself, thanks to crowd-sourced donations. On its initial release, the reviews were incredibly good.
“I have been very touched, very moved, overwhelmed, really, by the positive feedback so far – it’s been great, really,” he says. “After I finished the [retirement] tour, I had 70 hours of footage, and I really thought: ‘My God, how can I turn this into any kind of cohesive, interesting story with some kind of arc, where people are going to watch two hours’ worth of this?’ By hook or by crook, by trying to structure it in a certain way, thus far it seems I’ve been able to do it.”
His intent was to produce a film that appealed to wrestling fans, but also made the crossover to a mainstream audience; as he points out, his story encapsulates “the universal themes of life”. He adds: “Most people have some, not necessarily regrets, but wishing their life worked out differently in some way, shape or form; arguably the key to having a happy life is coming to terms with that.”
McGuinness is perhaps best known for his work in Ring of Honor, where he feuded with Bryan Danielson and Claudio Castagnoli – both now WWE talent under their new ring names Daniel Bryan and Antonio Cesaro. McGuinness too had try-outs for WWE, but fell at the last hurdle; medical tests showed extensive damage to his biceps and the company decided it was not worth the risk. Does he regret never having the chance to work on the biggest pro wrestling stage of them all? “I absolutely regret not getting the chance to work there. It will perhaps be the biggest, and perhaps unfairest, disappointment in my career.”
He maintains that he could easily have wrestled for WWE – he had sustained the arm injury two years previously, and went on wrestling for TNA with it for another year afterwards – but happily admits that he understands the reasoning behind their decision.
“They make sure that everyone they hire is healthy and able to do the job – to protect themselves and to protect everybody else in the company. I genuinely feel that it was an error for them to not hire me. Of course, I would do, but if you look at the information, all the facts of the matter, I think most people would agree.”
The disappointment is something that he has learned to live with, though there still seems to be a lingering sense that he was robbed of his big chance by an accident of fate.
“I think life hinges on certain moments – that moment where, after a decade of trying to achieve my childhood dream and get into WWE, it was, I felt, unfairly snatched away from me, and my life was sent in a completely different direction, and ultimately has taken me to where I am today. To some extent that’s bad, but to another extent it’s good, you know? I am aware that had I gone to WWE, I might have had a short run – but I might have had a great run. You just don’t know. All you can do is deal with the changes that life gives you as best you can.”
Stepping back
After the old guard such as Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks got so much criticism for being ‘fat old men’, and the big televised promotions focus so much attention on making sure their talent are impressive physical specimens, it’s not a surprise that wrestlers in the UK now are wary of not looking the part or of not being fit enough to do their job properly.
Majik officially retired from the scene some years ago, and describes himself and his wrestling abilities very honestly. “I was 11st, maybe a sneeze over 11st, so just getting in the ring was an achievement for me.”
He admits that his family, friends and colleagues were somewhere between amazed and amused when he told them he was spending his weekends travelling from Coventry to Kent for a wrestling school, simply because he never looked the part.
“I was getting by on my gob and my wrestling skill rather than my physique. In the back of my mind, I knew that’s not the full triangle, I only had two sides. So any booking that I got I took with a smile on my face and a song in my heart, whether it was being squashed in two seconds or having a 20-minute humdinger. I was never a name. If anyone ever saw Majik on a card, that wouldn’t necessarily bring them in. I didn’t think of myself as a name, and never will.”
Regardless of his modesty or his billing, he travelled all over the world as a wrestler, including a stint in OVW (Ohio Valley Wrestling) during his three visits to the USA “running around the States, just doing the indies”. He decided it was time to cut back on his wrestling after incurring a serious injury that he has never made too public.
“Some years ago, I actually broke my back, which wasn’t really made public knowledge,” he reveals. “A lot of workers will listen to this and roll their eyes and go ‘yeah, all right, Maj, whatever’, but actually I did break my back. I had to rehab it for a bit, and then came back.”
He describes it as just another knock, but it’s apparent this injury was more serious than he initially realised. “I thought I was OK, and then took a bump in Scotland [where he appeared for Scottish Wrestling Alliance], and my left leg went dead, and I had to be carried out. It was a real heart-stopping moment for me. I thought: ‘Oh, s***.’ That was the first time I thought: ‘Is this worth it?’ I calmed it all down from that point on.”
Even with that wake-up call, he found himself yearning to wrestle again, and after a break, he decided to get back into the ring one more time, before another tweak made him cut down on his bookings once more.
“About six months after that, I looked in the mirror and didn’t like it,” he says. “I didn’t really have the heart to do anything about it. I looked at all the young guys and girls coming through who were all faster, better, bigger, better looking, better physiques, and I thought, do you know what, I don’t want to be stinking the place up, and it got to the point where a few of my matches were frankly horrific, I wasn’t proud of them, and it was my fault, and I just thought if my heart wasn’t in it any more because I was so worried about my back, then I shouldn’t really be in the ring.”
It is an understandable decision. After Ashe tore his shoulder twice in quick succession, he unsurprisingly opted to retire. “But then I got bored and came back,” he says.
So why would you return to a physically demanding and stressful job when the injuries you have incurred have already put you out of it once?
“I’ve been asked that so many times!” muses Ashe. “It’s a question that’s up there with: ‘Why do you do this to yourself?’ To be honest, it’s different for everybody. Some people wrestle because it’s an escape from the real world. Some people wrestle because it’s an opportunity to be a superhero they can’t be in real life. Some people just like getting knocked around and getting hurt.
“For me there’s nothing like it. I’ve gone out and wrestled when I’ve had horrendous stuff going on in my personal life, and when you get in that ring, everything goes away. I’ve been out there when I’ve had nothing else good going on, and at that moment I’m the king of the world.
“It’s the escape factor, I think. Even when you’re hurt, it’s drilled into you at a very early stage that the show must go on, and you’ve got a show to give to somebody, and you always understand that every single person sitting out there has paid their money to see a show. It’s not even a guilty fe
eling, it’s a feeling of honour. You owe them that.
“Every time we bump, every time we get hit – it does hurt, every time. But after a while you just learn to ignore pain. It’s not a good idea, but we all do it. You just think ‘oh, I’m OK, a bit of ice spray, I’ll strap it up’, and you just keep on going.”
Despite being ‘retired’, Majik ventured back into the ring for the first Andre Baker memorial show put on by the revived Hammerlock promotion in 2011, because he wanted to pay tribute to the man who launched his career.
“I still considered myself retired, but wanted to be a part of the show as a sign of respect to Andre. The match was horrible – the worst match I have ever had in my entire life – and I came away from the show absolutely gutted – like I had besmirched my retirement.
“And then I saw the pictures. I looked an absolute horror.
“There’s nothing like abject failure to make you take a good look at yourself, so that’s what I did. I realised a few things – how much I missed everyone in wrestling, how much I missed the crowd, how much I missed the rush, and how I had p***ed away a decent opportunity to have a career by not truly applying myself.
“I could have let it rest, but I decided to do something about it, and had a word with some promoters to do some secret matches to see whether it was something worth doing again. Feedback was good, and honest, so I let a few select people know I may be available again, and I was kind of back...”
In the summer of 2012, he took on Jimmy Havoc for the NWA-UK Hammerlock lightweight title – Majik was the inaugural winner back in 2002. They built up a feud via Twitter – “You know what Jimmy’s like. He just types stuff” – and escalated the insults ready for the show itself.
But why would someone who had incurred serious injury and made the decision to retire then opt to go back into wrestling – even if he does have regrets about the chances he wasted in his younger years? He is clear that it is now both the occasion and the opponent that make up his mind for him.
“I know my body very well,” he says. “If I’m taking my own bump, I know I can take my own bump safely. The fact is that if I put myself at risk and I do myself a naughty, it’s my own stupid fault. I knew Jimmy was going to look after me. When I was wrestling regularly, I’d get in the ring with w**kers and s***arses and people who don’t give a crap about your body. One person not paying attention could do me something really nasty.
“But getting in the ring with Jimmy – who I know and trust, and who knows I would destroy him if he did anything to me – isn’t so bad, because he’s a good mate and I know he wouldn’t let me down.”
He makes an ironic note, now, though, with the degree of self-awareness he has gained through age and experience: “I’m probably in the best condition I have ever been, but when I look around and see some of the jaw-dropping talent there now is in the UK, I know my time has nearly passed. I can do a hell of a job for anyone, but I’ll always regret not coming to this epiphany ten years ago – who knows what may have happened.”
Ashe doesn’t think retirement is ever non-negotiable for a wrestler. “Any guy who’s been in the business a long time will tell you no wrestler ever truly retires. So many of us retire and come back. Everyone does it. It just grabs you – the allure. A lot of guys retire because they feel beaten up and run down and they can’t do it any more. After a while, their body heals and they think, ‘I feel quite good, I could do another bump, I could do another match.’ It’s the craziest thing in the world. I’ve spent 15 years trying to justify it to people, and I still can’t do it. I can’t rationalise it, in any way, shape or form.”
Chapter 4:
In the spotlight – the women wrestlers
EVEN in this enlightened age, women’s wrestling is still often seen as separate to “mainstream” wrestling. UK promotions are still primarily male-focused, with the occasional female bouts thrown in depending on location and audience, but some promoters still happily admit: “I don’t like to see females wrestling,” (as one man who shall remain nameless told me) and won’t book them on their shows.
It is fortunate then that the UK has two high-profile, high-quality women-only promotions: Bellatrix (formerly known as WAWW, the World Association of Women’s Wrestling), run by the legendary Knight family, and Pro Wrestling EVE, run by Dann Read. Though she is the face of Bellatrix, Sweet Saraya Knight is best known as the first British champion of SHIMMER, possibly the most famous women’s wrestling promotion in the world, a title she gained at the start of 2012.
“The SHIMMER title win was one of the true landmarks of my career,” she says. “I was as shocked as the crowd that attended. I had followed SHIMMER for such a long time and never dreamt I would one day be their champion, especially since I am loathed over there...my character does create a bit of a stir!
Saraya met her husband Ricky Knight over 20 years ago when she was a teenager working at a holiday camp, and he was one of the wrestlers on the bill there.
“I met Rick when I was 18 years old and I was working at Pontins Holiday Camp, Hemsby,” she recalls. “He was 38, very muscular and a perfect gentleman. He asked me to marry him after six weeks and 22 years down the line we are still together.”
The Knights have also founded a wrestling dynasty of their own, with sons Zebra Kid and Zac Zodiac regulars on the UK circuit, and daughter Saraya-Jade, aka Britani Knight, now in WWE’s development territory as Paige.
“I have never pushed my children into wrestling but they love the business as much as I do,” she says. “Rick and I love the fact they followed us into the job, and being a wrestling family sets us apart from the rest and sticks us in a very prestigious club alongside the Harts [the Canadian wrestling dynasty, including most famously Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart]. My children are my pride and joy and whatever they do I will back them: it’s a bonus that they are excelling in a sport I adore.
“Saraya-Jade is a natural star and she can cope with any situation. She is homesick, yes; she misses the indie circuit and the fans, yes; but she loves the adventure she is on and she is doing exceptionally well, winning everyone over and doing what she knows best, which is wrestling. She is strong, determined and very stubborn. I think she gets it from her dad,” she laughs.
Saraya and Britani formed a mother–daughter tag team in SHIMMER for a while. You might expect two such fiery characters to argue, and that’s without the parent–child dynamic. Saraya, however, says that they had a great time.
“When Saraya-Jade was old enough to travel the world I loved it,” she recalls. “What better travelling companion than your own daughter? She is my best friend, my confidante, as well as my daughter and we have many memories travelling across the world experiencing different cultures and being crazy and slightly boisterous. Watching the sun set in America with my daughter is a very cherished memory.
“Tagging was our speciality as we both had different approaches and the mix of new and old school really worked; it also helps that we are both vicious wrestlers and we could talk to each other without words, which was something very special. SHIMMER gave us the chance to let loose and be what we wanted to be – bigger than the Beatles!
“Yes, we argued, but we also realised when the other was making a valid point and accepted it, but as we are different styles it didn’t really happen much: usually she was telling me to shut up!”
She had a much-discussed falling-out with Pro Wrestling EVE, the other major British-based women’s promotion, which has always been hidden under a bit of a veil. (Dann Read declares: “It’s not something I won’t talk about, it’s just something I don’t care about.”) But Saraya maintains that she hasn’t and wouldn’t blacklist any of EVE’s talent from working for her if they wanted to.
“There are less than a handful of girls on EVE I wouldn’t use: not because of talent but ego and attitude,” she says. “I like Alpha [the Alpha Female] and I will be using her even though she is their champion – I would let her wear the belt. All girls are welc
ome to work for me whatever company they work for.”
Women’s wrestling, as some of the veterans recall, has only recently started to become mainstream; for a while in the 1980s, it was banned in London for having a ‘sexual element’. And the televised promotions are still depressingly keen on featuring ‘fitness models’ in bikinis on their shows rather than signing up the very best female professional wrestlers. Saraya thinks things might finally be changing, though.
“After 22 years in wrestling, I have seen wrestling change many times, sometimes for good and sometimes for bad,” she says. “I have seen women’s wrestling dip to a point that I wrestled Klondyke Kate every day for four years because there wasn’t anyone else out there to work – although I loved working Kate.
“There are girls out there that will always be regarded as tits and arse, but that’s because they want to be perceived that way. There are girls out there that are s*** and can’t work, but believe their own publicity, and their ego and attitude spoil them and lose them work.
“But right now, in the twilight of my career, it seems that some girls actually get it! Some of the workers out there now are breathtaking and some are even better than the boys. I wish they could have been about ten or 15 years ago so I could have spent more time with them.
“With these girls in the job, the business is in good hands. When I eventually retire, I will still watch with great interest and will still train the girls – and definitely be very opinionated because that’s who I am. I am proud to be part of an ever-changing business, I am proud to be a female wrestler and I am proud to be a Knight.”
Saraya is a veteran of the business and she knows the score, so it’s a good sign that she thinks things are starting to change and British female wrestlers are really concentrating on being the best that they can be in the ring – for example, Nikki Storm, who is living out the dream she has had since she was ten. When she went to university, she decided that she’d try out wrestling training at the Scottish Wrestling Alliance, and hasn’t looked back.
