Chapter 1: The Worst Three Months of my Life
June 2012:
It has been a shit three months, I thought to myself; I couldn't believe that when I was about to start the most important six months of my career I had got injured; I was still bitter about that oaf Paul throwing Nick out of the ring how he did, he'd pushed Nick clumsily into me, injuring my arm. I was even more pissed off that the powers-that-be had placed me in the match, when they knew that I was still suffering from the Elimination Chamber the previous night. The WWE infuriated me at times.
They were even pissed off because I'd swore on TV that night, no thought to the fact that my arm was facing in the opposite direction to what it was supposed to and that the pain was unbelievable, unbearable almost. They were only worried about me shouting 'fuck' on TV.
The prognosis of my arm wasn't good, they said that I would be out of the ring for four to five months and it may be longer dependant on how surgery went. I actually felt so depressed it was unbelievable. The way WWE was I would be forgotten by both the writers and the audience by the time I got back. The days after surgery were long and monotonous.
They said that surgery had gone well but that I would have to be eased back into the ring gradually, and that I may have to modify the moves that I used before, which didn't go down to well with me or my bosses. There were times when I wondered whether I may as well give up and just go home, perhaps my WWE career wasn't meant to be. There was no way I would settle for second best, I wouldn't be just an average wrestler I would rather not wrestle at all!
The month of June came round and I was still not back in the ring, or even close to it. I went into see Paul and ask whether I could go home for a short time; I really needed to get my head together, and away from the stress of not being able to get in to the ring. I found it difficult even watching the shows at the moment, knowing it should be me out there, getting the push, getting the title it was driving me mental.
"I just need to get away to sort my head out" I told Paul "I've already been told that I may have to modify my move set and I just don't want to come back a lesser person than I was before it would crucify me" I admitted
"Look" Paul replied to me "you are working on maybe and possibilities here. I've had some of the worst injuries ever yet I've always come back and proved time and time again that I was one of the best in the ring"
"I know, I just don't know whether I can get back to the level I was before"
"The problem with you at the moment is your attitude" I could tell Paul was getting a little annoyed "If you don't believe you are going to be back to your best then you never will be, and you may as well give up now"
"Maybe I will" I mumbled in defiance
"Ok that's fucking bollocks Stu and you know it is" Paul almost shouted at me "take a few weeks off, you can continue your rehab in the UK, and either come back with a Positive Mental Attitude and a desire to work your ass off or you know what don't come back at all"
"Fine" I shouted at Paul, knowing that he was right and not wanting to admit it "See you whenever" and I stomped out the door;
Well that went well, I thought to myself and knew that it was me in the wrong here; A short while later I texted Paul saying "look im sorry, you're right I just need this time to discover what I really want to do now; I will keep in touch, perhaps do some promo work for the tour while im over?"
"Yeah mate I know it's difficult, but you will get there" he texted back "Good idea about the promo stuff, I will speak to Vince about it; can't let you get lazy whilst being looked after by mummy"
"bollocks" was all I sent back with a slight smile on my face and I walked out the WWE offices that afternoon not knowing when or if ever I was going to be back there; I sighed to myself, WWE had been such a big part of my life I wasn't sure whether I could leave it all behind.
The next few days were a bit of a blur of getting ready, sorting travel and saying a few goodbyes to my closest friends in the business such as Stephen, and Drew.
"You better get your ass back soon" Stephen wrote "who else can I bloody talk to about football?"
"What you enjoy the piss taking when Liverpool lose again?" I joked
"Fuck off" was the all the reply I got back
Finally the time had come to leave my home in Tampa and go back to my real home in Preston. England; It was funny but I had a heavy heart as I boarded the plane, I wasn't sure what I was going to come back to, or whether I would have a reason to come back at all; The flight gave me far too much time to think, something tried not to do too much of these days. The more I thought, the more depressed I became, and the more I drank. I knew that I hadn't got a drink problem, but I knew I was becoming increasingly reliant on drink to get me through my days, the dull schedule was killing me.
I guess the other problem was the fact I was still a single bloke, yes I have had a few one night stands on tour and wasn't short of female attention but no one had really caught my eye at all, no one id want to spend my life with long term. I sighed to myself and ordered myself another beer. At least that's a positive, as US drinks were a load of shit.
At last the plane arrived at Manchester Airport, and I trudged off and waited for my bags "always the fucking last ones" I mumbled to myself as the long wait continued ten minutes later
"Excuse me" a small voice said to my right "could I have an autograph?"
I turned round to see a small face smiling, pen and book held out from her hands
"Of course" I smiled,. At least one person remembers me I thought to myself
I finally got my bags, and through the final part of customs and entered the arrivals area of the airport, my best friend Sean was there waiting for me, we had been friends from school as young boys and remained in touch since then. It was really good to see him that's for sure
"Hey Man, how are you doing?" he said warmly
"Good now I'm home" I replied to him and I meant it, it felt good to be back on familiar ground.
"How's the elbow" he asked
I grunted at him
"That good then" he replied sarcastically
"It's ok for doing normal things but it's not strong enough to get back in the ring yet. It's so frustrating"
"I can imagine" he replied "oh well let's make the most of the time you have home, we don't get to see you that often"
"Yeah" I grinned "let's hit the pub tonight and get wasted"
And that's what I did that night, and the night after until the days became a blur, and the nights became one long party. It was after another late night and I was suffering from yet another hangover that my phone buzzed. I groaned as I saw the name of the person who was ringing, but had no choice but to answer it.
"Stu" the voice almost shouted down the phone "What the fuck are you doing man?"
"Hey Paul" I whispered not trusting myself not to vomit if I moved even slightly.
"Don't fucking hey me, you idiot. I heard you haven't been going to physiotherapy sessions, and now I get passed a paper which shows you fucking falling over pissed out your head in the street! What the fuck is going on?"
"Didn't think I was being fucking monitored while I was home" I replied angrily
"No you're not, but I don't expect to have stories about the women you have been picking up, or you pissing up a wall in the street! Sort yourself fucking out Stu or else you will be back in the UK permanently" I heard the phone click
I took a deep breath, I knew he was right but I literally just couldn't motivate myself to get back into shape, in my mind I was already halfway out of the door and may never get back in again. I dragged myself out of bed, got a shower and got dressed; I had promised to give my mum a call, I knew she had been worried about me so I reluctantly called her number and waited for the lecture I was about to receive
"Hey mum it's me" I started when she answered
"Oh hi Stu, nice of you to finally call" she said sarcastically
"Mum I really don't need the lecture right now. I'm not feeling that great at the moment"
"Oh I wonder why" she said "Stu you really really need to get yourself together, you have worked too hard to throw it all away now"
"I know mum it's just I don't think I can get back to where I was before"
"Well you will never know if you don't try" she paused "look why don't you come and stop with us for a bit, I just don't think being with Simon twenty-four seven is helping you right now"
The thought of going back to my parents didn't fill me with any pleasure at all but I knew in my heart she was right. If I didn't get my act together my career was over before it had really begun, and I didn't genuinely know what I would do without it. As much as it felt that one foot was out of the door, I didn't want to be shoved the rest of the way out. It was my choice and mine alone.
"Ok" I heard myself say reluctantly "I will come over just for a couple of weeks, I have to go stateside in a month if everything goes to plan (yeah right!) so I want to come and see you anyway"
"Good" I heard my mum reply, sounding pleased
"Hang on" I interrupted her "on one condition that you don't lecture me or try and mother me let me deal things in my own way and I promise you I will really make an effort to get myself sorted out"
"Deal" she replied "I think this is your last chance Stu. You need to get it right"
"Yeah I know. Look see you later" I sighed, and said my goodbyes
I was dreading the journey up to Manchester to my parents' house, one because I think living with them is going to drive me mental, more so than I already am, and two because I still feel very hung-over. But I knew I had to face it sooner or later so I got my stuff together as quick as possible and jumped into the car and set off on the short journey.
To say the next couple of days were fractious was an understatement. My parents weren't overly sympathetic with my melancholy nature and were very vocal in their displeasure. I began to think that I needed to just return to the states to face the music. I had Paul on my case almost daily, and I felt very lonely and depressed. The barhopping had been a way to avoid that but not anymore, not here.
Today was going to be even worse, as I had to go to physiotherapy and I knew I hadn't been for a while therefore this one may be a difficult one; I got ready grudgingly, chucked the usual stuff in my bag and headed out in the car. I looked at the clock, I was going to be really early therefore I decided to nip into the City Centre and grab a quick drink and some food for later.
I walked up to Costa and grabbed a fruit juice and a sandwich to have after my appointment and sat down just to kill some time, and not think about the session that was ahead – I hate them with a passion.
"Excuse me" I heard a voice say "Look I'm really sorry to bother you but there are no seats at all and I'm going to look a real idiot sitting on the floor drinking my tea, would you mind if I just sat down, I wouldn't bother you at all"
I looked up and saw a woman, must have been in her early-thirties looking flustered carrying a tray which she would drop if she didn't put it down.
"Yeah sure" I replied "I will be leaving soon"
"Thanks so much" she smiled at me, she has a lovely smile I thought to myself "Im so clumsy if I had stood there any longer I would have been wearing that tea" she laughed, and sat down
"No worries" I smiled back at her, there was something about her that put me at ease straight away, stupid I thought "My names.."
"Stu" she smiled at me "I know who you are, that's why I was a bit reluctant to ask I thought you may want your space"
I looked at her in astonishment, and a little hesitantly "Oh didn't realise you were a fan" I started but she jumped in to correct my next words
"Don't worry" she said quickly "I'm not after a photo, autograph or any of that crap; I really did just need to sit down, I will move if you want?"
I felt bad "no no its ok, im not much company atm that's all, I apologise for my rudeness" I looked at her wondering her name
"My names Lisa" she replied "really pleased to meet you" and she gave me a beaming smile. All of a sudden my day got just a little bit better
What I didn't realise at that time, and it's funny looking back and recollecting later, that it was this chance encounter and this meeting that would completely change my life for the better…Fate is a funny thing