It was an unassuming February’s day in Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania. It was cold, with snow on the ground and no work to do; I did what any sensible 12 year old kid would do, so I went to my room and played FIFA ’12. I was halfway through a match, so into it, in fact, I hardly noticed my mom poking her head into my room. She said to me in that mom way “Zac, come say hi to Steve.” So I put down my controller and obliged.

My mom, divorced for 8 years at that time, had been talking about this Steve fella for about two or three weeks now. She had me all hyped up because she said that he was a professional wrestler for twelve years, and I was a wrestling junkie at the time. I came out half expecting to see some intimidating 6 foot 8 monster with muscles popping like you’d see on TV.

He was not that monster. Steve was a guy only slightly taller than me, and seemed to be your average Asian-American. He was bald, and his eyes were strangely far apart, but other than that he was a decent looking guy. Steve, in fact, was almost completely normal in every way, and that was a huge shock to me because, at the time, I always believed wrestlers to be larger than life. But in fact, he was very down to earth.

I shook his hand, smiled, and held brief conversation before he and my mother went out for the night. I half expected to never see him again, so I just went back in my room and continued playing my games. I was in a combination of shock and child-like glee when he came back for our family’s annual Super Bowl party.

He and I developed a friendship after that. He spoke my wrestling lingo, and shared my interest in the sport/entertainment. He and I would recall what our favorite matches we ever watched were, what our favorite rivalries were. Steve was fond of “Super Fly” Jimmy Snuka, whose dive wowed him as a kid and convinced him to become a pro wrestler. But what I loved discussing with him more than anything was his backstory, his wrestling career.

Steve was trained in Wild Samoans wrestling school in Allentown, Pennsylvania, by the former WWF tag team champions Afa and Sika. Steve met many personalities at training camp, including former WWE star Billy Kidman (at the time, Kid Flash). He became inept there, and learned firsthand that wrestling hurt. He developed his character, his promos, and his wrestling ability. When he graduated, he was given nothing more than a handshake from the Samoans, their best wishes, and the shirt on his back.

Steve then burst on the independent scene like a great ball of fire. Under his ring name, Ykushi, he would destroy American fans verbally and the wrestlers physically. He won more matches then he lost (which as a bad guy is very hard to do) and managed to do it while mocking audiences.

He broke the PWI Top 500 on multiple occasions, earning him, not one but two WWE tryout matches in the early 2000’s, while most independent wrestlers don’t get more than one.

Steve’s first tryout match was against a man named Tajiri, a wrestler from Japan. He fought Tajiri in front of a full house WWE event (this was a televised show, but his match was not on TV because tryouts, otherwise known as “dark matches,” are before the start of the actual show). When I later asked Steve what his favorite match he ever wrestled was, he ranked this match in his top two. Steve’s second opportunity was against, ironically, another wrestler from Japan known as Funaki. Funaki was never more than a jobber (guy who always loses) on the televised matches, but in dark matches, he was like a tiger on the attack. The former light-heavyweight champion knocked Steve back and forth like it was pinball. Unfortunately for Steve, he was denied on both occasions.

But Steve didn’t give up. Ever hopeful from that call from the WWE for yet another dark match, Steve dominated the independent scene. He wrestled some of his childhood idols like Nikolai Volkoff and Tony Atlas, and even Roddy Piper. And Steve took each of those losses in grace, knowing that his dream had come true.

After years bouncing from promotion to promotion, Steve finally found some stability with a Pennsylvania-based wrestling company, the WWWA (World Wide Wrestling Alliance). Steve worked there for the last years of his career, but became one of the promotion’s biggest stars.

Ok, so maybe calling him one of its biggest stars is a bit of an overstatement, but Steve had left his mark on the fans and the promotion. It was here that Ykushi reached his height of infamy, beating headliner wrestlers regularly. After a little while at the promotion, he was in for a pleasant surprise. In his infamous rivalry with a guy named Jonny Law, Steve was awarded the Intercontinental Championship in one of those matches.

He didn’t even know that he was supposed to win the championship. Hell, he wasn’t even told he was supposed to win the match. So the two went at it, Steve thinking he had to lose. He went at it with Jonny, back and forth, back and forth. With the help of his manager at ringside, Ykushi got the upper hand and started to go for pin attempt after pin attempt. Then, a few attempts later, Steve got the pin and was in shock. He told me that it took almost everything in him to stay in character. He thought that there was a mistake, but nope. The ring announcer announced him as the winner; the ref held his hand up in victory, his manager seemed to know exactly what happened. Steve had to escape to the back as quickly as possible to avoid breaking character. He then went to his booker (guy who makes matches, rivalries, and decides who comes out on top of both) where he found out that they didn’t tell him because they wanted it to be a surprise. He was on cloud nine.

And he used that energy to hold the championship for a year, in what I have dubbed as the “Japanese Invasion.” Ykushi came on top of every challenge that came his way. The fans were paying to see Ykushi, and the booker knew that. He didn’t want to hurt his profits, so he let Steve become the primary mid carder.

But Steve wasn’t a young man anymore. He was finding it harder to get up in the morning. He eventually decided that it just wasn’t worth it, that the WWE wasn’t looking at him anymore, and these small shows weren’t helping him any. So he went over to the booker during his last show in his yearlong title reign and said “I’m keeping this thing.” They had to let him keep the title, and as a result he was not only the longest reigning Intercontinental champion in the WWWA’s history, but he was also the only one to walk out with the gold.

Steve then disappeared into the normal world again, and became a salesperson for an insulation company. I once told him to wear his wrestling gear and his title to his door-to-door visits, and he responded with a jesting punch to the shoulder.

Even though my mom’s relationship with Steve was short lived (only two weeks), it was one of the most impactful of her relationships. He had inspired me to get in shape (I won’t lie, I was fat at the time) and work on my charisma. I didn’t change my diet much, but it wasn’t needed. I’m still shy, but when I need to talk I can talk.

And eventually, his time with us inspired me to join a wrestling school. He showed me that anything’s possible. If he could do it, then why the Hell couldn’t I?