Colt Cabana only wanted to be a professional wrestler. He watched pugilists moon-eyed as a kid: He-Man, Jean Claude Van Damme in Bloodsport, but especially the turgid giants of the squared circle. He loved the stories, the characters, the conflict. He dreamed of of being one himself, living to endure the slog of travel, the pain of performance.
As soon as he could, Cabana became a professional wrestler. His life was training, traveling, performing, repeat. He saw the job push some to drugs. Steroids, alcohol, or whatever dulled the pain long enough for the next match. He'd decided long ago that wasn’t for him. He didn’t want the behemoth build that anabolics gave; the glass-eyed slur that poured into the next morning; the hard escalation needed to hush the pain. He doesn’t call it “straight edge" like his longtime friend and former WWE Champion CM Punk, but he did it his way. No drugs, just work.
He eventually made it to the big time. WWE. Seven-figure contracts and world-wide fame if