Eddie Kingston’s mere existence is a success story. Everything since is a victory lap. So while his revelation that he contemplated retirement before AEW All Out is jarring, his ability to overcome it is no surprise.
Kingston returns to AEW on Saturday, his first match since May 2024, when he broke his leg, tore his ACL and his meniscus. Kingston wrestles Big Bill at All Out. There’s little build to the match, with the emphasis on Kingston’s return, as AEW calls on its most hardened soldier on a day when All Out is counterprogrammed by WWE Wrestlepalooza.
Obstacles riddled Kingston’s recovery. Insurance would not cover his physical therapy, so he cobbled together a poorly planned squat and deadlift routine until 2025. However, the physical hurdles — and there were plenty — weren’t the hardest part.
“The hardest part of anything in life is the mental game. Pain is whatever,” Kingston told CBS Sports before All Out. “I’ve had eight or nine surgeries already.”
To the uninitiated, Kingston is the street’s Rocky Balboa. A troubled childhood, mental health and alcohol issues scratch the surface of battles he fought and, in some cases, continues to fight. Those painful life experiences are channeled through wrestling, communicated through words and strikes delivered with conviction.
Kingston, 43, knew better than to turn back to the bottle. But with his partner pulled away by personal matters, Kingston had to navigate a dark road alone.
“I told her to get out and that I’d be alright, lying, of course,” Kingston said. “For two months, I was by myself. I wasn’t doing PT, sitting there days in the dark by myself. Thank God I don’t really drink much anymore. I coped with food, which didn’t help.”
Kingston’s binge eating got so bad that he needed to see a doctor. Drowning his feelings in food, like booze, was a dead end.
“I went from beating myself up, not knowing if I’d get back in the ring, and trying to be satisfied,” Kingston said. “I told myself, ‘Well, I reached this goal and I reached that goal.’ I was trying to convince myself that it’s OK to call it.”
Making peace with his career was Kingston’s most sensible solution yet. It didn’t work either.
“I couldn’t,” Kingston said when asked if he found any closure. “Nothing. Death. Honestly. I tried to find everything. I would lie to myself.”
The problem and solution are complexly intertwined. Kingston is a fighter. It’s allowed him to overcome personal and professional hardships, but it also prevents him from finding peace. Wrestling on international platforms far exceeds every expectation Kingston had for his pro wrestling career, but there’s so much he’s yet to experience.
Kingston wants to walk the hallowed halls of Madison Square Garden and Arena Mexico, to feel the spirits of idols who walked before him. The AEW World Championship still eludes him. What stuck most were the words of his mentor, Homicide, who retired earlier this year with a brain cyst.
“He didn’t get to go out his way,” Kingston said. “So he’d tell me, ‘Go out your way. I know this is not the way you want to go out.’ I want to go out on my shield. I want to go out swinging to the end. People can say whatever they want about Eddie Kingston, but one thing they can’t say is that I wasn’t defiant to the end. That’s what kept me going.”
Kingston’s vulnerability — hidden beneath a rugged exterior forged in Yonkers, New York — earned him a loyal fanbase. But support is a two-way street. Whatever impression Kingston has left on fans, they reciprocated when he needed it most.
“And as corny as this sounds, but I need to say it, I’d read messages from fans…” Kingston said. “I would sit there and wonder why these people even care. I’m just a kid from Yonkers, New York. That’s it. I got to live out my nine-year-old dream and be a pro wrestler.”
Kingston is still breathing. He has two good hands to punch with and two mostly solid feet to stand on. His return at All Out matters deeply to the fans who stood by him, but to Kignston, it means everything.
“It’s an out-of-body experience when I’m in that ring,” Kingston said. ” I don’t know who I am or what I am, all I know is the fight and what I’m doing in that ring. It’s peaceful. For me, it’s peaceful and calming, even though I’m getting beaten up or beating someone up. That’s what I’d miss, and that’s what mentally would do me in sometimes.”
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