The time was getting so close now. Ronnie Wilkins was filled with mixed feelings when he said goodbye to his family two days ago.

On one hand he was sad to be apart from his two young sons, but the truth of it was he hadn’t been much of a father these past few weeks anyway. Training for this match had consumed nearly all of his time. It hurt him to ignore his oldest son’s request to play, but he knew that this was his chance to make everything right with his family and there was no room for Spongebob memory games or playing with Matchbox cars.

It was his wife who surprised him.

There had been tension between them ever since he’d left the Border Patrol, along with the decent salary and job security it offered. In the year since they had run their savings down to nothing and were on the verge of needing government assistance. But there was no icy goodbye and quick peck on the cheek this time. Tears fell down her face and she looked him straight in his eyes.

“I know you aren’t coming home a loser, go out there and show all those people just how hard you’ve been working. Make this worth it Ronnie.”

He had snapped off a mock salute at that point “Yes Ma’am!” and kissed her long and hard.

They hadn’t kissed like that in months.

A quick kiss and a “You be good for Mommy” to each of his sons and he was in the taxi, on the way to his date with destiny.

------------------------18 Hours Later-----------------------------

Ronnie finally flopped onto the bed in his modest hotel room. The plane ride hadn’t been that bad, he’d always been able to sleep at the drop of a dime and he’d spent most of the trip with his head resting against the shuttered window. Now here in the hotel, alone, with no kids screaming, no dogs barking, no chores to do…Ronnie felt that old familiar pull.

The “pull” that told him it would be okay to go down to the bar and grab just one beer, just to take the edge off and make sure he got to sleep tonight. He was already putting his sneakers back on when he realized how close he was to fulfilling his own self-defeating prophecy.

He was in great shape right now, almost the best of his life, and he knew himself. That trip down to the bar for “a beer to help him sleep” would become a $150.00 bar tab (or whatever currency they used in this place) and a hangover that would put him down for three days. He opened his phone and quickly scrolled to his pictures.

Within seconds he was looking at pictures of his kids, both now and when they were younger. He also found himself gazing at pictures of his wife.

Pictures from a much happier time.

That was all the motivation he needed. The time for feeling sorry for himself, the time for self-medicating, all of that was gone. What he felt was the same things he experienced in college, at Oklahoma State.

Warming up and preparing for a match in front of over ten thousand people in the Gallagher-Iba Arena, he knew he was going out there to kick some ass and this time was no different.

He knew he was being done a favor for his intro match, he had studied the business long enough to know what was happening here. The two idiots who’d be attempting to exit HIS ring on Saturday were tomato cans, and he was there to crush them. He was fairly certain both the men he’d be facing in just a few days had a severe learning disability and was extremely glad that this match was occurring in a foreign country, or else he’d be concerned about being convicted for a hate crime.

Neither of these two “tough guys” knew what they were getting into. They were attempting to win a match with rules that they most likely didn’t understand against a highly trained former federal Law Enforcement Officer, an All-American Amateur wrestler at one of the premier Division I Programs in the country, and someone who was only a few months away from obtaining his black belt in Gracie-Barra Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.

Ronnie knew for certain that the match on Saturday would only end one way, two mangled bodies in the ring and him coming back home with a five digit paycheck. As much as he missed competing, that was the main reason he was here. He’d had old teammates and friends from Oklahoma State try to cajole him into joining organizations like the Ultimate Fighting Championship or Bellator, and with his resume he knew he could at least hang with some of the best in the world there. But joining the XWF, that was the meal ticket, the best of both worlds.

He could get in there and compete with elite athletes (after Saturday’s can crushing of course) and still showcase his talents. To top it all off he’d make more money than he ever did before, that was the benefit of being employed by the biggest wrestling organization in the world and he knew it. Five minutes in the ring with these two jokes and he’d come home ready to pay all the bills for the next three months and buy his wife something else.

No one was going to stop that, certainly not a guy who writes bad poetry and another one who was born with an extra chromosome and some repressed sexual feelings.