Summer 1987

Memphis, Tennessee

It was an idyllic, midwestern summer afternoon, and the 37-year-old Glen stood in front of the door to his home. He held his traveling bags in his hands but set them down at his side on the front porch. He knew as soon as he opened that door, his daughter would come running for an embrace from her travelling father.

An embrace he welcomed more than anything in this world. That plus a sweet kiss from his wife, Charlene.

It had been over a month since he had been away from home, while working and wrestling on the road. And the tour itself had been yet another disaster for him; his knee continued to plague his in-ring abilities.

There had been some bad losses, and what victories he did claim were marginal and lackluster. His fans, what was left of them, had lost their luster and crowd reactions were becoming less and less enthusiastic.

Just a few years earlier, he was arguably the most popular wrestler in the world, but those were now fleeting memories.

Glen knew it.

The wrestling promoters knew it.

He shook his head and recollected and reminded himself that he was home now where there would be an enthusiastic reaction. And with that brief glimmer of hope, Glen turned the knob and opened the front door.

“Daddy’s here!” Goldie shouted excitedly from the living room. Glen’s daughter rushed around the hallway corner and down toward him, where he quickly bent down and scooped her up in his big arms.

His 4-year-old daughter was so full of life, and it replenished Glen’s weakened spirit. His wife, Charlene, gracefully walked toward Glen and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Welcome home, honey,” Charlene said with a kind smile. “How was the trip?”

Glen, still holding Goldie, made a melancholy face back to his wife.

“Not as I hoped,” replied Glen while Charlene frowned empathetically.

“Don’t worry, Glen. You just need a little time at home, and we’ll get you ready for the next tour.”

“Daddy! Let me show you my room! I redecorated!” exclaimed Goldie from within Glen’s arms.

“Alright, sweetie, let me see it,” he replied before looking over at Charlene momentarily. “Honey, glad to be back, I missed you.”

Charlene watched while Glen carried his daughter upstairs and to her bedroom. While Charlene had just played innocent, she actually had been watching Glen’s matches the entire time he was gone.

She had seen all of Glen’s uninspiring wins and bad losses. And worst of all, Charlene had noticed the diminishing support the fans were giving their returning hero.

If Glen couldn’t get the fans back on his side, then she wasn’t sure how much longer Glen would be himself.