Well shit.That definitely didn’t go as planned at Inception. Have to give credit where credit is due. When it was all on the line he found a way. Hitamashii pushed all his chips in, and walked out with the G.R.I.M.E. World Nightmare Championship ending my almost 8 month reign. He used nefarious means to do so, but we all know I would and have done the same to hang onto the championship as long as I did. Good on him. Now, it’s time to switch focus to the 2021 Blast From The Past tournament.
Sunday morning. The bosses have just announced the opening round matchups for the 2021 Blast From The Past. The alerts on my phone are coming in fast and furious with the announcement waking me from my peaceful sleep. I roll over and grab my phone to see what the fuss is about. Amy and I are kicking things off this week against Mac and Myra.
Max: Ok, no rest for the wicked I guess.
Scrolling through my texts, I hit Ruby and Casey up immediately with the news of the pairings. Good thing today is the last day of babysitting my niece. I need to shake off what happened at Inception, and get ready for Climax Control. Within moments of texting Casey, he’s already calling. I quickly answer as I pop out of bed, and make my way to the kitchen.
Max: Hey big man. Yeah, I was just saying that myself. No rest for the wicked eh? Want to hit the gym around... let’s say 2? I just have to drop off the kiddo, and I can meet you there. Okay. Yeah, I’ll see you then.
Coffee is on. Bacon is in one pan. Pancakes in another. If there is one thing that can stir my niece from slumber is the aroma from bacon in the fry pan. Libby pops around the corner, and climbs up on the stool at the island.
Max: Morning kiddo. Did you sleep okay?
The telltale sign of an excellent sleep is written all over her face. My oldest niece is my biggest fan. Hands down. No question about it. All she can do is rub her sleepy eyes, and let out a power yawn, that quite frankly I’m kind of jealous of.
Libby: Yep.
Max: How many pancakes you want?
3 fingers are waved in my face. She’s quite the kid. Hell, she’s already been in the ring a bunch. She’s hooked early, and I couldn’t be happier.
Libby: 3 please. I’m starving.
Max: You got it kiddo. Want some milk?
Libby: Coffee.
This kid is hilarious. She’s 5.
Max: Nice try. OJ?
Libby: Coffee.
Annnnnd there is the look. Just like her mom. Just like her grandmother. Eyebrows pulled down HARD. Nose scrunched. Laser beams shooting from her eyes, and steam starting to shoot from her ears. This is how she gets me every damn time.
Max: How about a super special coffee?
Libby: Super special coffee?
Her eyes light up as she loves her Uncle Max’s super special coffee. So, I get to work. I grab the milk out of the fridge, the cocoa from the cupboard, and fill up the kettle. Wham, bam... super special “coffee” on the way. Yes, I do give her the smallest splash of coffee... I can’t lie to the kid. Just don’t tell on me.
Max: Don’t tell your mother.
Libby: I won’t. I promise. Pinky swear.
These moments top anything I’ve done in this business. Family is everything to me. Always has been. These kids are my #1. God help the poor son of a bitch that ever crosses our family. Would you want to piss off the Burkes? No? Smart. We shovel our breakfast into us, and get ready to take her home. As much as COVID has sucked, I’m glad they got stuck here with me. Unexpected extra long vacation with Uncle Max hasn’t bothered them too much. I’m just glad I’m in a position that I could support them through this crazy time.
Let’s rewind. Let’s go back to early 2019. It was late February or early March when I first got the phone call out of the blue. This was the phone call that I sure as hell didn’t see coming. Let’s just say the person on the other end of the phone wasn’t someone I would expect to call me given our history. Hell, I’d been on the shelf for quite awhile with no intentions of coming back. But... when the phone rang I answered. It was a Vegas area code. I didn’t have the number saved in my contacts.
Max: Hello?
When the voice on the other end replied I think I choked on my coffee.
Max: Erik? How did you get my number?
I had to admit he was resourceful. Still not sure how he got my number, but he got it. You see, I never really got along with any of the Staggs family. Hell, he was a primary target when I was with Hotstuff Inc. Why the fuck is Erik fuckin’ Staggs calling me? This should be a fun conversation.
Max: What do you want Erik?
This was rich. Erik tried to drum up some small talk before getting to the reason for the call. Impatiently I obliged for a couple of minutes.
Max: A contract? You want me back?
Here I am a few months out of knee surgery. Still rehabbing it. Erik wanted me to come back to Vegas. But wait... why isn’t Mark calling me? Hell, why isn’t Christian calling me? Well the latter... that’s obvious. I listened to what he said. He explained to me how he was running Underground not SCW. He was looking to beef up his ranks, and I was on his short list.
Max: That’s a tempting proposition. I’ll give you that. There’s a problem with it though. I’m coming off knee surgery, and still rehabbing it. You’ll need to give me some time to see how this goes.
We chatted for a few more minutes, and left it at that. I had a lot to consider before putting pen to paper. First, I needed to make sure my knee could handle the grind of the schedule. Second, did I really want to come back? I’d been quite happy back home in the Maritimes running my school, travelling for seminars, and just enjoying family time. If I decided to come back I would need to think long and hard about this decision. I knew I needed to cut out the distractions, and have complete focus on the rebuild of Max Burke.
A few months pass, and I’d get a text here and there from Erik checking in on my progress with the knee rehabilitation. Day by day the knee got stronger. Day by day the pain that I have come to accept and live with for years slowly subsided. I played it smart. I didn’t push it. Last thing I needed was a setback. I started tuning in again for both Underground, and Climax Control. Much had changed since I left, but there were quite a few familiar faces that kept my interest peaked. The hardest part of this, and I made Erik promise also was to keep this between just the 2 of us. I didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep. Hell, I just needed to make sure I was 100% committed to returning. Fuck, if Mark got wind of this I’d never hear the end of it. I needed to do this for me, and only me. But... how? Soon as anyone I know got wind of this it would be all over the dirt sheets. Last thing I wanted was that pressure. I knew it was time. I had to let a few in on the secret plans. So, I called my uncles. They were the only ones I could trust fully with the information. It was a simple call. I got Brad and Bryan to come over for “dinner”. Just the 3 of us. Neither hesitated, and we sorted out the details.
Brad: Shit. You’re serious?
Max: Yep. Staggs called a bit ago. I’ve been keeping that little nugget to myself during rehab.
Keep direct eye contact no matter what. I keep repeating that in my head as I run my finger over the scar on my knee.
Brad: Have you even rolled yet?
Don’t let them see you sweat. My knee is fanfuckintastic. I just need to do this.
Bryan: Yeah, where are you at right now? Have you actually stepped through the ropes yet to test it?
Obviously saw those questions coming a mile away. Truth is... I hadn’t. That’s why they were there. My uncles know exactly how my brain worked 99% of the time. Cut from the same cloth after all. We spent a solid 3 hours chatting over our whiskey, and steaks. They realized pretty quick that I was serious.
Max: I actually got the go ahead from the doc that I am making fantastic progress, and I could test it out... carefully. Told me to go about 50% to start.
Brad: Yeah... right. 50% we all know that damn well isn’t going to happen kid.
Brad never was the one to sugar coat things. Honestly, none of our family is great at sugar coating shit.
Bryan: If you’re going to fuckin’ do this, for the love of christ just follow the doctor’s orders. Do you really want to set yourself back on the progress you made?
Max: It feels great. I swear. I’m not going to lie to you two.
Brad: If you don’t want your ass whooped...
Bryan: Okay. I guess we’ll see ya at the gym. Just tell us when kid.
I’ll always be a kid to those two. Between Brad, Bryan, and my late uncle Ben they have been kicking my ass since day 1. Brad and Bryan can still make the kids in my gym cry without even trying. Fuck... when you get stretched by a Burke you will feel it for days. The thing is that’s what is missing these days. A lot of these new kids don’t understand what it’s truly like to be properly stretched. When you come from a wrestling family that goes back generations you have that name to live up to. It’s quite the challenge to live up to that legacy. It can break you... or it can build you into the wrestling machine that you need to be to survive in this crazy fuckin’ business. So... that’s what we did. We met at the gym the next day, and the day after that. Take a guess... and the day after that. They both watched me like a hawk for the next several weeks as I worked out with my kids. The students didn’t suspect a thing. They were just happy that I could get back in there, and show them things that I’ve had to sit back and just instruct them on the months. Had to hand off the heavy lifting for far too long. There is nothing like the smell of the blood, sweat and tears on the canvas. I realized fairly quickly that the knee was feeling better than it had in years. This knee had been the bane of my existence for most of my career.
Max: I think I’m good.
Brad: Agreed.
Bryan: Agreed.
So, I made that call to Erik, and the rest is history.
Fast forward to today. I made that comeback. Yeah, I did. 1st as Abaddon before finally revealing myself at Into The Void, and becoming the G.R.I.M.E. World Nightmare Champion. The target was huge on my back, and it’s just what the doctor ordered for this little comeback journey I’ve been on. Hitamashii finally made good on his promise. He was the one to snatch it away. He did what no one else could. Let’s sit back and see what he does with it now. I’ll be watching closely. But, that will have to wait. Now, it’s time to focus on the future and my return to the Blast From The Past tournament. I’ve got a love hate relationship with this time of year, and this tournament.
Max: The last 8 months as the G.R.I.M.E. World Nightmare Champion has felt like an out of control train in an action movie. No matter who they put in front of me, I’ve found a way to come out on top by any means necessary. The beauty of that title are the rules that come with it. Basically anything goes which allowed me to dive deep into those long hidden urges. Those buried deep since my blood feud with Kain over the Roulette Championship. In the past year, I’ve been lit on fire multiple times. Barbed wire? Check. Thumbtacks? Check.
I examine the new scars that I have acquired since returning to Sin City. All I can do is smirk, and nod at what I’ve done to myself. I run my finger down a jagged 3 inch scar... Raab. Oh yeah, that burn right there Raab’s pet... Samuel.
Max: I wear these fresh scars as a reminder, that yes at 39 years old I might be a tad slower, and a bit more beat up but I can still go. I’ve defended that championship with pride. People might not like us, but you can’t argue the facts. G.R.I.M.E. has injected Sin City Underground with a breath of fresh fuckin’ air. It has inspired the returns of names synonymous with Sin City. The talent on our side of the locker room has gone out every goddamn night with purpose. Statements are made each, and every night. And that statement continues with the 2021 Blast From The Past.
That’s right. Merely days after losing my title to Hitamashii I’m turning around immediately, and shifting focus to the opening round of the Blast From The Past. I’ve got to be a sucker for punishment. Smart thing would be to focus on regaining my title. However, when a friend calls... you answer. Mark called me out. He wanted me back for The Blast. Some of the fondest memories I have are sharing the ring with Mark Ward as a piece of Hotstuff Inc. The destruction we left in our path was the most fun I’ve had in this business until I returned for Sin City Underground. When your mate calls your bluff you show up. Simple as that. I threw my name in the hat.
Max: I’ve got to say, the last thing I expected to be saying is that I’m an entrant in this tournament yet again. It’s been no secret that I have been ecstatic over having Amy’s name drawn to be my partner for this year’s Blast. That’s what the Blast is all about. The opportunity to experience first evers. Amy is a mainstay. I’ll say it. I’ve always been a fan of her tenacity in that ring. When Amy was on the show, you knew you were in for some damn good action. So yes, I’m looking forward to seeing this comeback firsthand. If it’s just for the Blast I’ve got the best seat in the house. Our opponents in the opening round are Mac Bane and Myra Rivers. Myra has been proving night in and night out during her current reign as Internet Champion that she is more than capable to step up to someone like Amy. Mac Bane is a big ol’ Texan veteran that hits like a Mac truck. I’m well aware of what Mac Bane brings to the table in this tournament. But you see Mac, I’ve been dealing with the likes of The Monstimals and Dying Breed throwing their best lumber at me on a weekly basis in the Underground. I’ve had my ass whooped by the biggest and baddest over the years. I’m still standing bud, and always lookin’ for a scrap. We’ll see you on Sunday. At the end of the night in the center of that Sin City Wrestling ring where we made our names... Amy and I will have our hands raised. We will move onto the next round.
