Image credit: Owen Jones

Adam Brooks Was Ready for America. Then the World Shut Down.

Ring of Honor had signed him. America was waiting. Then COVID erased the opportunity before Adam Brooks could wrestle a single match. Years later, the kid from Dingley is still chasing the career that almost began—and slowly recognising what he has already become.

Adam Brooks knew how the story was supposed to go.

Ring of Honor had offered him a contract. After years of wrestling around Australia and building an international reputation, he finally had the opportunity to establish himself in the United States.

Then the world shut down.

Brooks never made it to America. He never walked through the curtain for Ring of Honor. He never received the opportunity to discover whether he belonged there because the opportunity disappeared before he could touch it.

That distinction still matters to him.

“It’s not like I sucked and they said no. I never even got the chance to get there and prove myself.”

The disappointment has never completely left him. Brooks genuinely believes that if the move had happened, he might still be overseas today—either with Ring of Honor or with another major promotion that noticed what he could do.

Instead, he remains in Melbourne, representing Melbourne City Wrestling and trying to explain why the performer others regard as a pivotal figure in Australian wrestling still thinks of himself as Brooksy from down the road.

Adam Brooks in two minutes

Who is he? A Melbourne City Wrestling mainstay and one of the most recognisable performers on the Australian independent wrestling scene.

Where is he from? Dingley Village in Melbourne’s south-east.

What started his wrestling obsession? Watching Jeff Hardy in the ladder match at WrestleMania 2000 on a neighbour’s VHS tape.

What was his biggest missed opportunity? Signing with Ring of Honor shortly before the COVID-19 pandemic prevented him from relocating to the United States.

What does he want from his career? To reach the end knowing he gave wrestling everything he had.

What surprises him most? Young wrestlers now react to him the way he once reacted to his own heroes.

How does he see himself? As Adam from Dingley who likes wrestling.

The contract that disappeared

Brooks does not pretend that losing the Ring of Honor opportunity was easy to accept.

The timing could hardly have been worse. He had been signed during a period when the promotion appeared to be heading in an exciting creative direction. There were plans for Australian wrestlers to become involved, and Brooks believed he could have built something significant there.

Then several events collided.

COVID-19 closed borders and disrupted international travel. Ring of Honor experienced upheaval of its own. Plans changed, opportunities disappeared and the version of the company Brooks expected to join never materialised.

What makes the experience particularly frustrating is that he never had the chance to succeed or fail on his own merits.

He was not released because his performances were poor. He was not rejected after an unsuccessful tryout. He simply could not get there.

For a while, that reality left him angry, frustrated and depressed.

Eventually, Brooks realised that repeatedly imagining what might have happened would not bring the opportunity back.

“Everything was out of my control.”

What remained within his control was the work.

He could continue training. He could continue performing. He could help Australian wrestling grow. He could make sure that when his career eventually ended, he would not be left wondering whether he had held something back.

“When this is all said and done, I just want to be able to say I gave it everything.”

That sentence may be the simplest explanation of Adam Brooks.

The destination remains uncertain. The effort does not.

Before Ring of Honor, there was a Jeff Hardy VHS

Long before Brooks imagined wrestling for Ring of Honor, he wanted to play Australian rules football for Richmond.

Nick Daffy was his favourite player. Playing in the AFL was the plan.

Then a neighbour invited him inside to watch wrestling.

The tape was already playing when Brooks arrived. It was WrestleMania 2000, and the match on the screen featured the Hardy Boyz, the Dudley Boyz, and Edge and Christian fighting with ladders.

Brooks had never seen anything like it.

There were ladders, tables, strange outfits, flashing cameras and spectacular collisions. In the middle of it all was Jeff Hardy, with brightly coloured hair and fabric covering his arms, moving unlike anyone Brooks had seen before.

Then Hardy launched himself from a ladder.

For the young Brooks, something changed immediately.

“That kid had no idea what was about to happen to him.”

After that afternoon, Brooks became a regular at his local video shop in Dingley. He rented every wrestling tape he could find.

There were tapes from WCW and tapes from the WWF, but he always preferred the ones that included Hardy. Brooks was no longer merely watching wrestling. He was studying it, replaying it and becoming increasingly obsessed with understanding it.

The video shop is now a restaurant, but the significance of that place has not disappeared.

A borrowed VHS tape in suburban Melbourne redirected the course of his life.

At the time, Brooks could not have known that the wrestler on the screen would eventually watch one of his matches.

Building an international career from Australia

Brooks has wrestled across Australia and travelled to the United States, United Kingdom, Japan, Mexico and Italy.

Building that career from Melbourne has required more than talent.

Australia is physically isolated from the largest wrestling markets. A wrestler based in the United States can potentially attend an independent show, take additional work or appear near a major televised promotion without first crossing an ocean.

Australians face a different equation.

Flights are expensive. Visas are complicated. Accommodation, food and transport must all be covered while trying to earn enough from independent wrestling to justify the trip.

Simply arriving in the right country can require months of planning and thousands of dollars.

“It’s hard, man. It’s hard. I’ve done it. I continue to do it.”

Social media has reduced some of that isolation. Promoters and fans can now discover wrestlers without seeing them on television or attending the same local events.

Australian performers have also demonstrated that reaching the industry’s major stages is possible.

Tenille Dashwood became Emma in WWE. Buddy Matthews—who trained Brooks—built his own international career. The members of TMDK established themselves in Japan before gaining further exposure in the United States.

Each breakthrough made the Australian wrestling scene harder to overlook.

“The talent’s here. The fucking talent’s here, man.”

The difficulty is not producing wrestlers capable of competing internationally.

It is building an industry large enough for them to remain in Australia without sacrificing the chance to make wrestling their livelihood.

MCW is home

Ring of Honor represents the career Brooks might have built.

Melbourne City Wrestling represents the career he actually has built.

Brooks joined MCW when he was nineteen. He remained through changes in management, changes in the wrestling industry and the disruption of the pandemic.

It is more than the promotion where he happens to wrestle most frequently.

It is his home.

“I’ve been there since I was nineteen.”

Brooks has become one of MCW’s defining performers, but he does not describe the promotion as something that revolves around him.

Its future depends on the entire group: wrestlers, organisers, staff members and supporters.

He wants MCW—and Australian wrestling more broadly—to reach a point where local wrestlers can earn a full-time living without feeling compelled to move overseas.

Brooks would happily remain in Australia if an opportunity of sufficient scale existed here.

He does not need to become extraordinarily wealthy or internationally famous. He wants to work somewhere that makes him happy, gives him a purpose and allows him to represent something he believes in.

MCW gives him that feeling.

Even when his in-ring career finishes, he expects to remain involved in some capacity.

“I love wrestling everywhere, I really do. But MCW is home.”

When Jeff Hardy watched Adam Brooks wrestle

Years after watching Jeff Hardy on that borrowed VHS tape, Brooks finally met the wrestler who had unknowingly chosen his career for him.

Brooks had already met some of wrestling’s most recognisable figures, including the Undertaker, John Cena and Paul Heyman.

He could introduce himself to them calmly.

Meeting Hardy was different.

His heart raced. He was genuinely nervous.

Hardy was not merely a famous wrestler. He was the reason Brooks had entered the industry.

Brooks told him exactly that.

The interaction could easily have become an awkward exchange between a performer and an overwhelmed admirer. Instead, Hardy was generous with his time. They spoke for around twenty minutes.

More recently, their paths crossed again during TNA events.

Brooks had just wrestled. Hardy was nearby, preparing for his own appearance and painting his face.

Then Hardy mentioned that he had watched parts of Brooks’s match.

He remembered specific moments. He spoke enthusiastically about what Brooks had done.

The symmetry is difficult to miss.

Then

A child in Dingley watches Jeff Hardy leap from a ladder on VHS.

Now

Jeff Hardy watches Adam Brooks wrestle and tells him what he enjoyed about the match.

The person who once seemed impossibly distant was now standing backstage discussing Brooks’s work with him.

For Brooks, the experience became more than a satisfying meeting with a childhood hero.

It became a model for the kind of person he wanted to be.

Becoming somebody without noticing

Brooks recently attended a student wrestling show because someone he knew had a family member on the card.

He expected to arrive, support the wrestler and say hello.

Instead, people began turning their heads.

Young performers recognised him immediately.

“Oh my God. Adam Brooks is here.”

They introduced themselves even though they already knew exactly who he was.

Brooks responded as he always does.

“Hey, I’m Adam.”

Their excitement left him slightly uncomfortable—not because he disliked meeting them, but because he struggled to understand why his presence carried so much weight.

To Brooks, he is still the person who grew up in Dingley and became obsessed with wrestling tapes.

To those students, he is Adam Brooks: the wrestler who has travelled internationally, held championships, represented MCW and helped define a generation of Australian independent wrestling.

The experience gave him a glimpse of the way others now see him.

It also helped him understand their reaction.

Brooks remembers being in locker rooms when someone like Jeff Hardy walked through the door. He remembers the disbelief of seeing the person who shaped his life casually preparing for a match.

Now Brooks walks into a small Australian wrestling show and creates a version of that same feeling.

He once looked across a locker room and saw the wrestler who changed his life.

Some younger wrestlers now look across a locker room and see Adam Brooks.

He has become somebody’s Jeff Hardy without noticing it happen.

“I’m just Adam from Dingley who likes wrestling.”

What should people say when it is over?

Brooks does not describe the legacy he wants in terms of championships, television appearances or money.

He wants people to say that he was a good person.

That he worked hard.

That he always gave everything.

That he played an important role in Australian wrestling.

The last part is still difficult for him to accept.

People already describe him as a pivotal figure in the local industry. Brooks appreciates the compliment, but it does not quite match the person he sees when he looks at himself.

In his mind, he is still Brooksy.

He is someone from Dingley who became obsessed with wrestling, travelled to a few countries and competed on some significant stages.

His humility is genuine, but his influence is also genuine.

The two facts exist together.

Brooks wants to retain that sense of himself regardless of what happens next. Whether he remains in Australia or receives another international opportunity, he wants the people who knew him at nineteen to recognise the same person.

No ego.

No arrogance.

No distance between Adam Brooks the wrestler and Brooksy the person.

The relationship with the fans

Brooks understands that a wrestler’s career does not exist without an audience.

A performer can be technically brilliant, athletic and charismatic, but none of it matters if people do not care enough to watch.

That is why Brooks refuses to treat interactions with supporters as an inconvenience.

He does not want someone approaching him for a photograph or a brief conversation to leave with a story about him being dismissive or rude.

“Ultimately, it’s the fans who make you.”

Those encounters are becoming more common.

People now recognise him away from shows, including at his gym in Keysborough. They approach him and explain that they saw him perform at MCW.

For Brooks, those interactions are not simply personal validation. They are signs that MCW is reaching beyond its existing audience.

People are remembering the wrestlers. They are recognising them outside the venue. The promotion is becoming part of Melbourne’s broader entertainment culture.

That growth matters to Brooks.

He wants supporters to continue attending shows, following the wrestlers and introducing new people to Australian wrestling.

The industry already has the talent.

The next step is building an audience large enough to sustain it.

Just Brooksy

Adam Brooks knows what he wants people to say when his career is finished.

That he worked hard.

That he gave everything.

That he helped Australian wrestling.

That success never made him inaccessible to the people who supported him.

He understands now that younger wrestlers may see him the way he once saw Jeff Hardy.

He is simply not entirely comfortable believing it.

Perhaps that discomfort is part of why they admire him.

His career has taken him to countries and stages the child watching WrestleMania 2000 could not have imagined. It nearly took him to Ring of Honor. It may yet take him somewhere bigger.

Wherever it goes, Brooks hopes people will still recognise the same person who started wrestling at nineteen.

Not a legend.

Not an institution.

Not one of the pivotal figures in Australian wrestling.

Just Brooksy.

Adam from Dingley who likes wrestling.

Support Adam Brooks

Follow Adam Brooks and keep up with his upcoming matches, appearances and announcements:

• Instagram
• X / Twitter
• Facebook

You can also view Adam Brooks’s wrestler profile or read more Australian wrestling interviews.

Support Australian wrestling

Keep attending local shows. Follow the wrestlers. Share their work. Bring someone who has never experienced Australian independent wrestling before.

Keep supporting Melbourne City Wrestling so it can continue growing.

And perhaps one day, as Brooks puts it, it might even be able to give him a salary.

If you've read this far, please consider buying me a coffee! It's really expensive here in Melbourne.