For as long as I can remember, my dream was to be a professional wrestler. Not just to wrestle—but to make it. To walk down the ramp, feel the lights hit, hear the crowd, and know I was living the dream that I’d chased since I was a kid.
And somehow, I did it.
I got to live that dream on national television. I got to step into the ring with some of the best in the world, travel the country, and make memories that most people only imagine. But what people don’t always see is that dreams sometimes come with an expiration date you don’t choose.
After an injury, everything changed. The thing that had defined me for years—the ring, the crowd, the life I’d built—was suddenly out of reach. I couldn’t just lace up my boots and go anymore. And that realization hit harder than any bump I ever took in a match.
When something you love gets taken away, you start to ask yourself, “Who am I without it?”
For a while, I didn’t really have the answer.
But then I realized something: wrestling wasn’t just about performing moves or cutting promos—it was about connecting with people. Making someone’s day a little better. Giving them something to cheer for. And that’s what I’ve carried with me into this next chapter of my life.
Now, I’m in the world of car sales. Yeah, it’s a completely different kind of arena—but the goal’s the same: make people feel good, earn their trust, and help them walk away with something they’re genuinely excited about.
I may not be chasing championships anymore, but I’m chasing something even more meaningful: a stable future for my family and a career I can be proud of.
This is my comeback story—not just from an injury, but from having to rebuild, refocus, and find purpose again.
Because at the end of the day, whether it’s in the ring or on the lot, I still believe in putting on a great performance—just now, it’s one that ends with someone driving off smiling.
