CONTENT

CAYLE MURRAY: SOMETHING FROM NOTHING (PART 1)

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The first in a series of WrestleUTA.com-exclusive Webisodes, focusing on newcomer Cayle Murray, his background, and his path to joining the Ultimate Toughness Alliance.

Fade in to Cayle Murray, UTA newcomer, sat on a brown leather armchair in a tastefully-decorated room with burgundy wallpaper and deep mahogany furniture. Wearing a smile and a tight-fitting “The Cure” band t-shirt, the Scot leans forward in his chair, welcoming the camera.

Cayle: Hi, I’m Cayle Murray: a fisherman’s son from Aberdeen, Scotland, just trying to figure this wrestling thing out.

Cut to shots of 1980s Aberdeen: a city almost entirely built of cold grey granite, renowned for its long, bitter winters and damp summers. A busy port city built on the back of the North Sea fishing industrial, and buoyed by the discovery of Europe’s most plentiful oilfields a few miles off its coast. Switch to aged family photograph showing a stoic, bearded father stood with his wife behind three boys.

Cayle (V/O): I come from a lineage of grafters. My father spent days – sometimes weeks – at sea, working one of the most treacherous jobs imaginable just to support his family. Mother stayed at home, but she was no less busy, and certainly had her hands full with me brothers and me.

Cut to two men sat side-by-side in a similar room to Cayle. Andy Murray hasn’t aged a day since his retirement in 2011, and, at 37, remains as fresh-faced and exuberant as ever. Sid, the eldest of the three, sports weathered facial features and thinning brown hair that’s shaved to the same length as his beard.

Sid: Cayle wasn’t quite the runt of the litter, but he was smaller than us and we sure gave him hell for it.

Andy: He was plenty capable of biting back, though. Cayle’s always been a fighter. I would’ve been about ten when this happened, but I remember hiding his bicycle behind the garden shed. It took him ages to find it, and when he did, he strolled-up to me and casually smacked me in the gut.

Sid: Keep in-mind that Andy’s six years old than him and was about twice his size at this point...

Shots of a young Cayle dressed in school uniform beside his proud mother.

Cayle (V/O): Aberdeen’s an interesting city to grow-up in. It’s tough, but not particularly dangerous. The sudden oil and gas boom means there’s a big divide between rich and poor, and snobbish attitudes filter all the way down to school level.

Cut back to Cayle in the studio.

Cayle: We didn’t have a lot of money, but we had a lot of love. I was the kid at school whose parents couldn’t afford a new pair of shows or a nice coat every term, and, like everyone else in that bracket, I was picked-on for it.

Switch to Andy and Sid.

Andy: Cayle got in a lot of fights when he was younger.

Sid: He was unruly: he struggled to contain his emotion when other kids tested him.

Andy: Barely a week went by without him coming home without a black eye, scuffed knuckles or a bloodied nose. Mother hated it.

More images of Cayle’s formative years flash across the screen. School photographs, teacher’s reports, his Dad pushing him down the street on a bicycle (stabilisers and all).

Cayle (V/O): I was never going to be a scholar or an academic. Trouble had a knack of finding me outside of class, and inside of it, I just couldn’t focus. Nothing ever seemed to click with me: when the teacher was explaining long division and multiplication, I was thinking about getting home and messing around in the streets with my friends.

Back to Andy and Sid. Andy points a thumb towards his elder brother.

Andy: Wrestling was his fault.

Pictures of a young Sid Murray, clean-shaven and remarkably youthful in appearance, lifting weights and grappling with trainers twice his age. The images are soon replaced by one of a teenage Andy supporting himself on crutches.

Sid (V/O): I caught the bug from a very young age and started training as soon as Dad would allow me. Andy joined me when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to play football for a living.

Andy (V/O): I tore my knee-up pretty badly and it was clear my body wasn’t going to cope with the type of movements needed for football. When I recovered, Sid took me along to one of his practices...

Cayle (V/O): Andy followed Sid, I followed Andy. Sid was good – real good – but his style was slow and technical. There was no market for that in Scotland, so he had to leave.

Grainy footage of Sid Murray, baggage in-hand, waving goodbye to his family before disappearing through airport security. Then, a few years later, footage of Andy and Cayle doing the exact same thing, together.

Cayle (V/O): Sid went to the States a couple years before Andy & I, but when Andy announced he was going, I knew I had to tag along. I left school with next to nothing, but I was a pretty decent athlete. It was either leave and pursue the one thing I was good at, or stay in Aberdeen and eek-out a joyless existence in the rat race. All three of us left within a couple of years of each other and it was tough on our parents, but I like the think the decision was vindicated.

Flash back to the elder Murray brothers.

Andy: Cayle and I came to New York to train, and that’s when things started to get complicated…

Fade out.


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