King of Wishful Thinking

Wednesday 19th June, 2024

Kilbirnie Cemetery

Kilbirnie, Ayrshire, Scotland

I refuse to give in to my blues That's not how it's gonna be And I deny the tears in my eyes I don't wanna let you see, no That you have made a hole in my heart And now I've got to fool myself

I'll get over you, I know I will I'll pretend my ship's not sinking And I'll tell myself I'm over you 'Cause I'm the king of wishful thinking

There was a bite to the chill of the breeze that surrounded Seán O’Neill, despite the clear, sunny skies of a morning in mid-June. He’d not expected to find himself back in the UK so soon, he’d certainly not expected to find himself once more standing in front of the grave of someone who’d shaped the man he’d become.

In all honesty, he’d never expected to find himself in the sleepy little town of Kilbirnie again. He felt as though he’d walked back through time, the only noticeable difference since his last visit, were the cars he passed.

No, that wasn’t true; the most noticeable difference was that she wasn’t hanging from his arm. He smiled as he let the picture form in his mind – He’d have been trying to show off, probably trying to act knowledgeable about something he knew nothing about.  She had that way of playing along with his nonsense, teasing him with acknowledgement of his brilliance, and then of course she’d have called him out on his bullshit – laughing at the boy who thought he knew it all.

He stepped forward at last, breaking the long minutes he’d been standing before the grave, staring vacantly at the newly erected black marble headstone. Kneeling down, he added the bouquet of Scots Bluebells to the other flower arrangements that’d been left. Staying on one knee, he finally let himself focus on the words that marked her resting place.

In memory of

ERIN LIVINGSTONE

Loving Daughter, Sister, Wife, Mother and Teacher

Died 25th May 2024

Aged 44

Loving and kind in all her ways,

Upright and just to the end of her days.

Sincere and true in heart and mind,

A beautiful memory she leaves behind.

Livingstone? Of course, she wouldn’t have been Hampton any longer – that hadn’t really occurred to him until now. He’d thought about what he was going to say ever since he’d decided he had to come here, but now, kneeling down to eye level with her name, freshly carved in stone, all his plans fell away. And all he could say, was the one thing he’d owed her for almost thirty years – the one thing more than anything else, she deserved of him.

“I’m sorry Erin.”

He could’ve left it at that, perhaps he should’ve, but tears had started falling as soon as he’d geared himself up to say the words and lost to grief, he stumbled on.

“I’m so, so sorry! You were right, about everything. You always saw right through my bullshit, I was so blind, so fucking arrogant. I let my obsession ruin everything, let it cost me everything and for what? A life filled to the brim with regrets. Of all the mistakes, letting you walk away was the biggest. I was better when I was with you, and I was too ignorant to see it. Everyone tried to tell me, but I didn’t want to hear it. You deserved the world, and I gave you nothing. I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”

Slowly, he stood back up and looking back down to where she lay, he finished.

“I’m glad you found happiness Erin, nobody deserved it more. I’ve been trying to be better you know, a better person I mean. I know I pushed you away. I was so consumed by my ambition that I lost sight of what really mattered. You always saw the best in me, even when I couldn’t see it myself. I promise I’ll make you proud. I’ll be the person you always believed I could be.”

He turned and began to walk away, wiping away the tears and composing himself. Before he’d taken more than a handful of steps, he became aware that three people were walking in his direction. Two men, and holding the younger man’s hand was a little girl, she couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old. She was Erin in miniature.

He almost missed his step, he hoped he’d gotten far enough from the grave that they’d not have seen him there. He was just someone paying respects to a lost family member. As the distance between them shortened, he knew the elder man at least, had recognised him.

The young girl seemed oblivious to him, her hand clasped in her father’s. The father gave him a fleeting look, but whether or not he’d divined his identity, he continued on past O’Neill to Erin’s grave. The old man stopped however, Seán looked up into his face and he saw the anger there.

Jim Hampton relied on the assistance on a walking stick now. The dark hair Seán had known was mostly gone, and what remained was white as snow. Jim had always been ready with a witty joke, easy to laugh; Erin had been so like him. That made it all the harder now to see the anger at seeing this intrusion into their privacy, into their grief.

“Jim...”

Before he could say another word however, he was cut-off.

“You’ve some nerve O’Neill. Comin’ here? The hell gives ye the right tae come here?”

Tears shone in both men’s eyes as they looked at each other.

“I’m sorry Jim, I had to come, I had to let her know I’m sorry.”

Jim moved closer, his voice barely a whisper but with the unmistakable fierceness of grieving father.

“If ye’d really wanted tae let her know that, ye wouldnay have waited ‘til she was gone. Ye broke my little girl’s heart - It took her a long time tae get o’er ye. If ye genuinely came here tae apologise for that, then ye’ve done it now, go! But I’ve nae doubt that just like everything else ye ever did in yer life - ye came here for yersel! I dinny want to see yer face here ever again, is that clear?”

Seán broke the eye contact and bowed his head “Yes sir.”

“Ye’re nay welcome here O’Neill. Erin probably would’ve forgiven ye, but I never will. I wish she’d never met ye.”

With that, Jim Hampton moved slowly off to join his son-in-law and granddaughter at Erin’s graveside.

Seán O’Neill stood still for a few moments, he couldn’t deny he’d deserved to hear every word Erin’s father had said, but that didn’t make them any less painful to hear. Each one had stabbed at him like a dagger to the heart.

“I’m sorry for everything.” He whispered to the wind and then he too slowly moved on.

****

Friday 5rd August, 1996

Future Stars of Wrestling Academy

Birkenhead, Liverpool, England

“Alright, everyone here? Let’s get started then.”

The voice belonged to one of the most legendary figures in the history of professional wrestling in the United Kingdom, Jackie McMaster. McMaster had been promoting shows up and down the country since the mid-sixties. He’d been one of the driving forces behind wrestling being broadcast as part of the wildly popular ‘World of Sport’ television show, which at its peak during the 1970s and early 1980s regularly drew as many as 16 million viewers, roughly a quarter of the entire population of the UK.

“So as you all know, we’ve split you up into classes based on our initial assessments. The good news is, you’ve all been selected as the ‘Advanced Class’, the bad news is; we’re really going to make you earn that status.”

A few laughs from the eager onlookers quickly dissipated as the look McMaster gave made it clear that hadn’t been a joke.

“Now, we’ve been very lucky that whilst he is recovering from an injury, we have a very special trainer who will be leading up this class. No doubt you’ll all be familiar with him as he’s already established himself as one of the best in the world, please welcome Jay Phoenix.”

An explosion of cheers and applause from nineteen of the twenty students erupted. The one who made no noise or motion, was a skinny Irish kid, his long dark hair tied back in a pony tail. He simply watched on, his eyes bulging in shock. Jay Phoenix... THE Jay Phoenix! His hero was going to be his teacher?

Standing beside him, his best friend elbowed him in the ribs, and gestured at his own hands clapping. Seán O’Neill came to his senses and quickly joined the others in applauding Jay. His grin spread from ear to ear.

Raising his hand to silence the class, Jay spoke to them for the first time.

“Thanks Jackie, thanks for the lovely reception guys. We’re going to be working pretty closely for at least the next few months, so I think we should get to know each other first. So what I’m going to do is ask you all to get into pairs, and spend the next 5 minutes telling each other about yourself. Then you’ll all take a turn to introduce your partner to the group.”

O’Neill and Logan smirked at each other, this wasn’t going to be much of a challenge for them, they’d been inseparable since they were eleven years old. As the other pairs franticly scrambled to memorise the details of their partners, the two Irishmen spoke excitedly about the prospect of what they could learn from the already rapidly rising star that was Jay.

As Jay organised the group to stand in a circle, he first introduced himself giving a template of what was to follow. This was the first team Seán really took in the others in the group. He scanned the faces, most of them were young lads, around the same age or maybe a little older than he and Logan were. His eyes passed over one of the few girls in the class, and immediately snapped back to her.

She was stunning, well to be fair the other two girls in the group were every bit as good-looking, but this one had something more about her. He couldn’t describe it, he watched her as she reacted to the stories being shared around the group. Her forehead crinkled when she grinned, and what a grin it was, but above everything it was her eyes that captured him. He supposed they must be brown, but they were so dark that they looked entirely black. He was just thinking how easy it would be to get lost in those eyes, when he received his second sharp elbow of the day.

He quickly realised the talking had stopped and all eyes were on him, he flashed an embarrassed grin to the group, but he didn’t miss the little smirk he received from the girl. Apparently he’d been far from subtle.

“So this is Logan Stirling, he’s from just outside of Belfast, we grew up together. His dream is to make it on to the American circuit. He wants to settle in Texas...”

Seán went on to cover some of the expected details about his friend, struggling all the while to remember to try and make eye contact with the rest of the group, but like a magnet he kept looking back at her.

“This idiot is Seán William O’Neill. As he mentioned, we grew up together in Northern Ireland. His dream, well is to be you really!” Logan motioned towards Jay as he said this.

“He likes the idea of being a ‘World Warrior’ and plans to study here, over in mainland Europe, in Japan, in Mexico and in the end-game of making it to the big-time in America. Once there of course, he’ll become the biggest star in the industry and marry Jennifer Connolly... or at least, that was the plan.” Logan cast a sly grin at O’Neill as he said this, and the rest of the group chuckled. Apparently he’d really not been subtle.

He could feel his cheeks burning as Logan gave way for the next student to introduce his partner. He gave a quick shake of his head that his friend knew all-too-well, meant he’d pay for that one later. He put a monumental effort into paying attention as the group continued to introduce themselves, determined not be caught staring across at the girl again.

The introduction’s reached the young lad beside her and he winked over at O’Neill as he started speaking.

“Folks this is Jennifer Connolly... sorry I mean, Erin Hampton.”

More chuckles from the group, O’Neill’s eyes darted from her partner to the girl called Erin, who flashed the cheekiest of grins at him.

Erin’s partner continued “She’s been training in Edinburgh for the last six months....” but the rest of the introductions session was just a blur for young Seán.

****

Saturday 18th April, 1998

Danygraig Labour Club

Treharris, Merthyr Tydfil, Wales

“You alright missus?”

Shaking off her distraction, Erin looked up and smiled at Logan’s question. “Aye, all good thanks, pal.”

Whether it was her answer, or the lack of conviction in the smile that gave her away, Logan clearly wasn’t convinced. He took the seat beside her.

“What has he done now?”

She laughed but it didn’t reach her eyes as she looked back at him. She fidgeted with her hands distractedly before deciding she should speak up.

“He’s naw been himself lately. Feels like he’s changin’, sometimes I just canny get through to him.”

Concern furrowed her brow as she looked up with a desperate hope in her eyes. She was questioning the wisdom of telling Logan her feelings about this; at the very least she could be putting him in an awkward position with his best friend. Logan gave a sympathetic smile in return.

“Funny thing is, that sounds a lot more like the Seán O’Neill I’ve always known. The only thing I’ve ever seen change him at all has been being with you.”

Logan looked up at the ring, where O’Neill was trading shots with a much older wrestler. The handful of locals in attendance had taken to Seán; they were cheering each of his strikes, whilst his opponents were routinely jeered. He turned back to Erin.

“Do you remember that first day at the Academy?”

She flashed a sparkling grin in response.

“The first time he ever met Jay, the man he’s practically worshipped these last seven or eight years, and for all that, there might as well have been no-one else in the world except you. I’ve never seen anything that could even distract him from wrestling, and then you come along and he’d not have known a wrist-watch from a hip-toss.”

Logan turned to give her his complete attention, but it was clear he was trying to choose his words wisely.

“It’s not always been easy being around him. You know how bloody single-minded he can be, but believe it or not; that’s only the slightest part of what the rest of the world gets. I know it might not always seem like it, but when he’s with you, he is just a better version of himself.”

This time it was Erin who looked back up at the in-ring action, for the briefest of seconds, the concern that had been written across her face was replaced with an involuntary smile. When she looked back at Logan, the worried expression had returned though.

“Recently it’s like there’s two of him, depending on how his match went. When he wins, nothin’s wrong in the world. But if he loses, or makes a mistake out there... he pushes me away, looks for any excuse for an argument.”

“He doesn’t...?” Logan interrupted, not being able to bring himself to finish the question.

“No, no... he’d never lay a hand on me.”

Relief crashed over Logan like a waterfall.  He’d not have known what to do if there had been any other answer.

“I’ll speak to Jay, if anyone can get through that thick head of his it’ll be him. I better go get ready for my match; I’ll see you after the show.”

He gave her a quick hug and then got up and made his way to the back of the small venue. Erin gave her attention back to the match, where Seán had his opponent locked into a Buffalo Sleeper hold. Before long the referee called for the bell. The crowd got to their feet, cheering O’Neill’s victory. Erin too got to her feet and started clapping. What she whispered was lost in the surrounding noise.

“Thank fuck for that.”

****

Friday 12th July, 2024

ReVival 51, Albertsons Stadium

Boise, Idaho, United States of America

“Beef? Who batters and fries beef?”

In fairness, it’s not the worst thing he’d ever eaten. He’d come to Boise, despite not being on the card, with the intention of paying his respects for Daytona Diamond’s dearly departed Jet Ski. When he arrived at the venue however, he decided against attending.

It was all just a little too close to home right now. His thoughts were consumed by his trip to Erin’s graveside, just under a month earlier. Much as he has been trying to turn things around in his life, to try and enjoy life whilst he still had it, when it came to actually attending a ceremony for an inanimate object just felt disingenuous.

He nodded to the food server at the catering station and filled his plate with more of the odd ‘Finger Steaks’. As he did so, he was reliving the confrontation with Erin’s father. It was the starkest of reminders of why it was so important that he change his ways. He’d let ambition conquer him all his life, and all too rarely had he stopped to consider the impact that his choices had on others.

“If ye’d really wanted tae let her know that, ye wouldnay have waited ‘til she was gone.”

He suspected those words would live with him for the rest of his life, Jim had been right of course. He was a grieving father, trying to cope with the loss of his world, and seeing someone who had caused her such pain – his reaction was entirely understandable. Seán O’Neill knew he’d deserved every word.

His thoughts drifted from that confrontation, back to that night when he’d made the worst of decisions. The words were jumbled by fading memory in the long years that had passed, but there were some that he could still hear as clearly as if she was stood before him now.

“Life is wasted on you Seán O’Neill! ... When was the last time you just enjoyed the moment? ... I hope you get everything you’re looking for Seán.”

Unaware of his surroundings, he turned and walked straight into the former Alias Champion, RIA. A quick exchange took place, RIA apologised for the accident, Seán apologised for his reaction. She was starting to walk away when a different memory jumped to the forefront of his mind.

His friend, Ryan, sat across the coffee table, looking at him apologetically as he said “Well, the truth of it is mate; you’ve never been good on your own.”

He thought of the highlight of his career, being part of the winning team in the War Games. He’d let his team-mates in, he’d accepted help for the first time in as long as he could remember. That was what he needed now, help. He looked up as RIA was turning away.

No doubt RIA has her own problems; we all face our own battles. But she had that one thing that he wanted more than anything, the connection with the fans. As he watched her, he thought – if anyone could help him find how to have fun, surely it would be The Technicolor Comforter of Wrestling.

In that moment, Seán O’Neill did something that Seán O’Neill never does, ever... he decided to ask for help.

“Hey, look, RIA you have a real connection with the fans. They cheer you, they believe in you. How do you do it? How do you make them care? I’ve been so bitter for so long, I don’t even know where to begin.”

The Russian author Vera Nazarian once said “Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.”

Where this journey will lead? Only time will tell. But it was about time Seán O’Neill let someone show him a different path.