2023 Night of Champions Results:
-Ricky Stevens defeated John O’Reilly
-Laney Harrison and McLean Oswald defeated The Working Girls
-Lisa Barbosa-Stevens defeated ‘Extreme Pizza Delivery Girl’ Tessa Martin
-The Stevens Dynasty defeated Surf Express Bro
-Felicia LaBarbara defeated Women’s Heartland Champion Kirsten Canfield to become the new champion.
-Men’s Heartland Champion Aaron Gray defeated Randy Barrington to retain the title
-Jill Berg Enterprises defeated Women’s Tag Team Champions The Hanson Sisters to become the new champions
-MVW Tag Team Champions No Quarter defeated The Alabama Gang to retain the title
-Victoria McGill (Jill Berg Enterprises) defeated Women’s Champion Jennifer Colton in a cage match to become the new champion.
-MVW Champion ‘Redneck’ Bill Dickinson defeated Luke Woods (Sports Entertainment Corporation) to retain the title
Cue the pyro…
Missouri Valley Wrestling
St. Louis Supershow
St. Louis, Missouri
Tuesday January 9th, 2024
Announcers: Thunderbolt Smith and ‘Long Haul’ Rick Hall
Backstage Interviewer: Kellie Burkowski
Ring Announcer: Heather Cooper
MVW… MVW… MVW…
The Chaifetz Arena, usually a cauldron of collegiate sports, had transformed into a pulsating colosseum of pro wrestling fandom. Nearly every seat was filled with eager spectators, their cheers and jeers creating a raucous symphony that reverberated through the steel girders overhead. The electrifying atmosphere was palpable, an intoxicating blend of anticipation and adrenaline that could only mean one thing: the St. Louis Supershow was about to commence.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to what promises to be another thrilling night in Missouri Valley Wrestling history!” Thunderbolt Smith’s voice boomed over the public address system, his tone even and assured as he surveyed the near sell-out crowd from the broadcast table. “We’ve got a near sellout here tonight inside the Chaifetz Arena.”
‘Long Haul’ Rick Hall, his excitable counterpart, leaned into his microphone, a wide grin on his face. “That’s right, Thunderbolt! We’ve got a packed house tonight, and they are ready for some hard-hitting action!”
MATCH #1-FOUR WAY ELIMINATION MATCH: Men’s Heartland Champion Aaron Gray vs. Randy Barrington vs. Buckshot Henderson vs. Adam Ellis
In the ring stood four men, each occupying a corner. Men’s Heartland Champion Aaron Gray flexed his muscles, the lights glinting off his title belt. Randy Barrington, the towering figure from Springfield, cut a stoic presence, his eyes scanning the arena. Buckshot Henderson, the scrappy brawler from South Carolina, bounced on the balls of his feet, while Adam Ellis—the returning favorite son of Warrensburg, Missouri—stood calm and collected.
“Introducing first,” Heather Cooper’s sultry voice wrapped around each syllable, her gaze lingering on each competitor as she announced them. “From Springfield, Missouri, standing six foot three and weighing in at two hundred and forty pounds, Randy Barrington!”
The crowd erupted, but Heather continued unfazed, her professional poise never waning.
“Weighing in tonight at 245 pounds and hailing out of Tryon, South Carolina… Buckshot Henderson!
Henderson hopped up and down to get warmed up.
“He is the current Men’s Heartland Champion. From Modesto, California. Standing six foot tall and weighing two hundred and sixty pounds… Aaron Gray!”
“And finally,” Heather paused for effect, “from Warrensburg, Missouri, standing six foot four and weighing in at two hundred and twenty-six pounds, he is the returning Adam Ellis!”
Adam tipped his head in acknowledgment, the mixed emotions of competition and personal concern evident in his eyes.
“Looks like Adam Ellis has a lot on his mind tonight, Rick. With Ginny Van Lear not by his side, it’s going to be interesting to see how he handles this high-stakes match,” Thunderbolt noted, his tone hinting at the underlying drama.
“Absolutely, Thunderbolt. But let’s not forget, the winner of this bout becomes the number three ranked contender in the Men’s Division. There’s a lot riding on this for all four competitors,” Rick added, his voice tinged with excitement.
“Adam Ellis does it! He’s the new number three ranked contender!” Thunderbolt exclaimed, his voice rising with the moment.
“Gray will have to settle for number four, with Buckshot Henderson rounding out at five. But let’s spare a thought for Randy Barrington, who suffered a pretty serious injury tonight. It looks like we might see an elimination match for the Heartland Championship soon,” Rick chimed in, empathy lacing his words.
“Speaking of championship matches,” Thunderbolt transitioned smoothly, “let’s run down our four title matches tonight. We’ve got a Women’s Tag Team Title match coming up between The Hanson Sisters and Jill Berg Enterprises. The Hansons get the first title shot as they were the runner-up to JBE at the Carmondy Cup and you can bet they’ll be ginned up to get the titles back.”
“Then there’s the MVW Tag Team Title match. No Quarter defends against The Stevens Dynasty,” Thunderbolt continued.
“Thunderbolt, you can bet Cary’s going to bring his men to the ring with the biggest of chips on their shoulders,” Hall said. “Can Krueger and Thompson continue their dominance? Or will Bo and George Stevens win back the MVW Tag Team title. This should be a good one.”
Plus, Amberley Stanton takes on Victoria McGill for the Women’s Title,” Rick continued, “Carmondy Cup runner-up Amberley Stanton who has not forgotten how she lost the Carmondy Cup final match to McGill. Tori used a foreign object to knock out Stanton and win the cup. Stanton will walk into the ring looking for payback.”
“And let’s not forget the main event. ‘Redneck’ Bill Dickinson aims to surpass Charlie Blackwell’s record for the longest title reign against Blackwell himself!” Thunderbolt declared, his voice echoing the fever pitch of the audience’s anticipation.
“Thunderbolt,” Rick began, “‘Redneck’ Bill Dickinson has held the title since August 30th, 2022- 498 days. Charlie Blackwell held the belt for 499 days. It’s simple. If Dickinson wins tonight, he will break Blackwell’s record. If Blackwell wins, Dickinson will come up one day short of tying the record, two days short of breaking the record.”
“We’ll be back with more after these commercial messages,” Thunderbolt said, sending to our first break of the show.
Back from break… the raucous energy of the near-capacity crowd at the Chaifetz Arena reached a fever pitch as Thunderbolt Smith’s seasoned voice boomed, “We are back. Let’s send it to the ring where Heather Cooper awaits!”
MATCH #2-WOMEN’S TAG TEAM TITLE: The Hanson Sisters vs. Jill Berg Enterprises ©
Heather, the embodiment of sultry sophistication in her shimmering gown, stood in the midst of the squared circle, microphone in hand. Her voice, smooth as honey, teased the announcement. “This match will be…”
“ONE FALL!” The unified shout from the St. Louis faithful echoed off the arena walls.
Heather nodded with a knowing smile and continued, “And it will be for the MVW Women’s Tag Team Title. Introducing first…”
The crowd roared, a tumultuous sea of excitement and anticipation, as the opening guitar riff of Warren Zevon’s “Hit Somebody” echoed through the arena. Floodlights carved through the dimness, alighting on the entrance where Coach Reg emerged like the prow of a ship cutting through waves of fervor.
She was flanked by—Andrea and Melissa Hanson. The sisters, in their Charlestown Chiefs jerseys, carried their hockey sticks like scepters of war. Their thick black horn-rimmed glasses sat upon their faces, not as a hindrance but a badge of honor; a testament to their unique brand of battle.
“Accompanied by Coach Reg, weighing in at a combined 324 pounds, Andrea and Melissa… THE HANSON SISTERS!” The cheer that greeted them was thunderous, a wave of support for the former champions.
Coach Reg’s gaze pierced the crowd, steely and unwavering. Her charges stood behind her, Andrea’s muscle tensing beneath her jersey, Melissa’s eyes narrow slits of focus.
The Hansons stepped forward, the heavy clack of their boots against the metal ramp melding with the rhythm of the song, creating a cadence of impending doom for their opponents.
Regina led the procession, her jaw set, mind racing. Tonight was more than a match—it was vindication, a chance to show the world the might of her prodigies.
Andrea swung her stick, an extension of her arm, a brawler’s grace in the arc it traced through the air. High Stick—that move had floored many, and it promised pain for those who dared underestimate its power.
Melissa hefted her stick onto her shoulder, a casual display of strength that belied the calculated chaos of her CHECK!-mate finisher. Her footsteps thudded with purpose; each step was a silent promise of the impact to come.
As they neared the ring, a palpable tension settled over the crowd. The Hansons vaulted over the ropes with surprising agility for their size, landing with a boom that resonated through the canvas.
In their corner, the sisters shared a glance—a silent pact made without words. Their hands gripped their sticks tighter, the knuckles white, the wood creaking under the pressure.
The music faded, drowned out by the cacophony of the audience, but its echo lingered in the hearts of the Hansons. They were here to hit somebody, and the ring would be their rink tonight.
Then, like a shadow falling over the sun, the mood shifted.
“And their opponents…”
Suddenly, a series of resounding THUMP, THUMP, THUMP-THUMP-THUMP echoed throughout the arena. The camera shifted its focus to the stage, where Jill Berg, CEO of Jill Berg Enterprises, confidently strode out with her security detail flanking her on either side. The crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers and jeers as she made her way down the ramp, her eyes locked onto the ring like a predator stalking its prey. With each step, Jill exuded power and control, her gaze never wavering as she climbed into the ring.
Then, a new pulse. ‘Canadian Cyborg,’ Sheline Carrigan strode out, red and white attire hugging her muscular form, the Canadian flag emblazoned across her chest—a national titan. Beside her, Melissa Miller, lithe and coiled like a spring, clad in simplicity: white tank top, blue jeans.
Behind them loomed Prisoner #034291, a monolith in orange, a walking fortress. Her presence was gravity, pulling whispers from the throng, her reputation preceding her like a shockwave. She flanked the athletes, a silent sentinel guiding them toward the squared circle.
Carrigan climbed the steps, steel bending under her weight, the embodiment of raw power and precision. Miller followed, agile, darting up with cat-like grace. The prisoner stood ground, her gaze sweeping over the masses, a warning, a challenge.
In the ring, Jill’s stare never wavered. Each combatant’s entrance etched into her mind, calculations brewing behind cold irises. They were chess pieces in her grand design, each move plotted with meticulous care.
“Accompanied to the ring by the CEO of Jill Berg Enterprises—Jill Berg and Prisoner #034291…weighing at a combined weight of 245 pounds…they are the Missouri Valley Wrestling Women’s Tag Team Champions! ‘The Canadian Cyborg’ Sheline Carrigan and Madison Miller… JILL BERG ENTERPRISES!”
Boos cascaded down as Carrigan stretched, fibers tensing, then relaxing—a predator limbering for the hunt. Miller bounced, heels tapping canvas, energy crackling off her in sparks. The prisoner folded her arms, a statue of intimidation.
Heather added, “Bailey Jenkins will be your referee,” before vacating the ring to let the gladiators prepare for battle.
“Remember, folks, the Hansons had a ten-month run as tag champs before JBE took the belts,” Rick Hall remarked, the excitement evident in his tone.
“Madison Miller’s arrival was the game-changer for JBE,” replied Thunderbolt, his voice steady as ever. “She lit the spark that led to their current reign.”
“Jill Berg Enterprises retains!” Thunderbolt exclaimed.
“Thunderbolt,” Hall began, “the Hanson Sisters launched an early onslaught, their aggressive tactics reminiscent of the wild skirmishes on frozen ponds but the tide turned when Madison Miller’s precision strike floored Melissa Hanson, rendering her motionless on the mat.”
“A devastating blow from Miller!” Thunderbolt exclaimed, shock edging his voice.
“Melissa was down, and Andrea was outnumbered,” observed Rick, concern leaking into his
“And that was it,” Thunderbolt confirmed, “Jill Berg Enterprises gets the win, and they will retain the title.”
“Good match,” Rick conceded. “But once Melissa was out, Andrea faced impossible odds.”
In the ring, Andrea knelt beside her fallen sister, while Coach Reg’s expression twisted with worry.
“All right, looking ahead, JBE will defend their titles against Laney Harrison and McLean Oswald on February 7th,” Thunderbolt steered the conversation forward. “Let’s talk about what’s happening in MVW during the holiday break.”
Rick leaned in, adding a broader perspective. “Ray McAvay’s shaking things up. Five contenders now for each division and all six Non-Divisions. It’s a new era for MVW.”
“Adam Ellis re-signs, splitting time between MVW and PRIME,” Thunderbolt noted, while elsewhere in the locker room, Adam’s thoughts lingered on Ginny and their unborn child, his resolve steeling for the future.
“Backman Taylor Powerdrive’s back too! They’ll start in the Women’s Tag Team Non-Division,” Rick chimed, the enthusiasm for the veteran team palpable.
“Mr. McMann isn’t sitting still either,” Thunderbolt pointed out. “He’s bringing up The Bookworms to join the SEC. And Emma Faith Barbosa-Stevens just signed her first pro wrestling contract.”
“Jennifer Colton’s in Japan, but she’ll return in time to challenge the Women’s Champion,” Rick said, anticipation lacing his words. “Be it Tori McGill or Amberley Stanton, Jennifer will be ready.”
“More signings on the way, folks,” Thunderbolt promised, his voice a beacon of certainty in the ever-shifting landscape of Missouri Valley Wrestling.
The Chaifetz Arena trembled as the crowd’s anticipation escalated into a deafening roar. Thunderbolt leaned forward, his voice cutting through the cacophony, “Alright folks, it’s time to shift gears to our next high-octane showdown!”
MATCH #3-MEN’S TAG TEAM TITLE: The Stevens Dynasty vs. No Quarter ©
Heather Cooper’s sultry tone caressed the microphone, her presence commanding attention in the ring. “Our next match will be…” The audience, as if on cue, thundered back, “ONE FALL!” Heather smiled, soaking in the ritual before continuing, “…and it will be for the MVW Tag Team Title!”
“STEVENS DYNASTY” blazed across the video screen, the Texas flag undulating like a war banner behind the bold letters. The mournful wail of “Ghost Riders in the Sky” filled the air, signaling the arrival of the challengers.
“Accompanied to the ring by the patriarch of the Stevens Dynasty—Cary Stevens and Scott Stevens… weighing in at a combined 679 pounds… Bo and George Stevens… THE STEVENS DYNASTY!” Heather’s voice rose over the music as the duo struck imposing silhouettes against the blazing backdrop.
Cary led the charge, his scowl etched deep, the embodiment of Texan pride bruised but unbroken. Bo and George followed suit, their strides purposeful, muscles twitching with pent-up aggression.
“And their opponents…” Heather paused, letting the suspense hang like a thick fog before the crowd exploded in cheers. “Weighing in tonight at a combined weight of 455 pounds…”
“Kicking and Screaming” by Blues Saracino kicked in as Bracken Krueger and Daryn Thompson stepped out, MVW Tag Team title belts glinting around their waists like trophies wrought from battle. “They are the reigning MVW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!… Bracken Krueger… Daryn Thompson… NO QUARTER!”
“Long Haul” Rick Hall couldn’t help but interject, his voice laced with excitement. “The Stevens Dynasty come in royally pissed off… Cary Stevens hasn’t forgotten the sting of defeat at the hands of the Alabama Gang. His boys are carrying the biggest of chips on their shoulders.”
“Ron Martin is your referee,” declared Thunderbolt, as all eyes fixated on the official in the center of the ring. The bell’s resounding clang was the starting pistol for war.
“No Quarter retains!” Thunderbolt’s proclamation solidified the outcome as Cary’s expression crumbled. The dreams of reclaiming glory dashed, not by judgment or fate, but by sheer talent and determination.
“Thompson seized her chance and hit a Northern Lights Suplex with textbook perfection. Bo’s shoulders hit the mat—one, two, three!” Hall added, his voice tinged with respect. The Stevens Dynasty, their pride wounded, skulked to the shadows of the backstage area, leaving the victors to bask in the adulation of the masses.
“Krueger and Thompson proved to be up for the task,” said Thunderbolt, his commentary painting them as the indomitable champions they were.
As No Quarter celebrated, arms raised high, the crowd’s cheers washed over them like waves of acclaim. “Both teams will meet again for the title in two weeks in Evansville, Indiana,” Thunderbolt confirmed, setting the stage for another epic encounter in the saga of Missouri Valley Wrestling.
MATCH #4-WOMEN’S TITLE MATCH: Amberley Stanton vs. Victoria McGill of Jill Berg Enterprises ©
The St. Louis Supershow buzzed with an electric current as Thunderbolt Smith’s voice boomed throughout the arena, vibrant with the anticipation of the impending battle. “No Quarter and Jill Berg Enterprises have successfully defended their titles. It’s time to see if Women’s Champion Victoria McGill can do the same.” He gave a nod towards the center of the action, where Heather Cooper stood, her voice ready to slice through the charged atmosphere.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Our next match will be…” Heather’s words were a spark to tinder, igniting the crowd’s fervor as they erupted in unison, “ONE FALL!”
“And it will be for the MVW Women’s Title! Introducing first…” Heather’s eyes glinted with showmanship, her curves accentuated by the spotlight as she gestured toward the stage.
Kelly Clarkson’s “Since You’ve Been Gone” blared over the speakers, and Amberley Stanton emerged like a shadow sharpened by light – a black and silver halter top clinging to her frame, pants shimmering with every confident step she took. She paused at the stage’s edge, muscles coiled with potent energy, before striking a pose that declared her intent without uttering a single word.
“Coming to us from Seward, Nebraska… weighing in at 100 pounds…” Heather’s voice trailed off, allowing the crowd to drink in the sight of the contender. “AM-BERLEY…STAN-TON!” The name resonated, punctuating the air as Stanton descended the ramp, eyes laser-focused on the ring, the mental gears turning with strategies and scores to settle.
“And her opponent…” Heather continued, but the arena’s response was drowned out by the ominous THUMP, THUMP, THUMP-THUMP-THUMP echoing through the space. Heads turned as cameras pivoted, catching the imperious stride of Jill Berg, flanked by her security detail, power personified in each step that brought her closer to ringside. A mix of cheers and jeers cascaded down upon her, but none could touch the CEO’s concentrated glare, fixed on the squared circle that held her empire’s glory as she marched down the ramp.
Then, the bluesy tones of Samantha Fish’s “Twisted Ambition” sliced through the cacophony, introducing the reigning MVW Women’s Champion. Victoria McGill appeared, title belt slung over her shoulder, exuding the confidence of one who has tasted victory’s sweetness and hungered for more. Her purple strapless top and black and purple wrestling pants clung to her like a second skin, hinting at the formidable strength beneath.
“Weighting in tonight at 120 pounds, she is the reigning MVW Women’s Champion!… from Killeen, Texas… VICTORIA McGILL!” Heather announced, her voice rising above the din. Tori McGill, beside Prisoner #034291, allowed herself a moment’s preening under the spotlight before descending the ramp, escorted by her daunting companion.
Amberley Stanton scowled, the memory of betrayal etching lines of fury into her visage. Referee Corinna Romanov stepped in, her hands firm on Stanton’s shoulders, holding back the tide of retribution swelling within the challenger.
“Stanton can’t wait to get her hands on the champion,” Thunderbolt observed, his tone steady yet tinged with the drama unfolding before him.
“Carmondy Cup runner-up Amberley Stanton who has not forgotten how she lost the Carmondy Cup final match to McGill,” Hall interjected, his voice riding the wave of excitement. “Tori used a foreign object to knock out Stanton and win the cup and Stanton will be looking for payback tonight.”
“Corrina Romanov will be the referee, and this match is about to start,” Thunderbolt concluded, setting the stage for a clash where past grievances would catalyze into a spectacle of raw physicality and burning desire for redemption.
The air in the St. Louis Supershow arena was electric with anticipation, the crowd’s fervor a palpable force as “And Tori McGill remains the Women’s Champion,” resonated from Thunderbolt’s confident baritone. Sweat shimmered on the champion’s skin like battle-won armor, glittering under the harsh lights as Jill Berg and the imposing figure of Prisoner #034291 joined her in the ring, solidifying the image of dominance.
“Thunderbolt, Tori fought off the challenger and put her away tonight with the Tiger Driver,” Hall chimed in, his voice tinged with respect for the victor’s prowess.
As Romanov, dignified in her role, bestowed the Women’s Title belt back unto Victoria, Thunderbolt took a moment to recap the night’s earlier conquests. His words cut through the din, reminding all that the warriors of the ring had danced their violent ballet—Adam Ellis’s triumph, the steadfast reign of Women’s Tag Team Champions Jill Berg Enterprises, No Quarter’s unwavering grip on their MVW Tag Team titles, and now Tori McGill’s win to remain the Women’s Champion.
“Yet, the only title change tonight so far will be the Men’s Heartland,” Hall noted, a touch of solemnity for the injured Randy Barrington who’d be absent from the ring for some time.
“All right, we will be back with our main event right after these commercial messages,” Thunderbolt said.
“Redneck” Bill Dickinson, the man-mountain of MVW, loomed large over the event, his record-chasing shadow casting long across the collective consciousness of the spectators.
“It comes down to this. If Bill Dickinson wins tonight, he will break Charlie Blackwell’s record on Thursday when he hits 500 days,” Thunderbolt pronounced, the weight of history in his intonation.
“But don’t discount Charlie Blackwell,” Hall protested with a fire in his belly, making it clear that pride and legacy were at stake, fueling the returning hero’s every move. ‘He’s a prideful man and he’s going to make sure Dickinson earns it.”
“All right. Time for our main event,” Thunderbolt declared, his voice signaling the culmination of the evening’s saga.
MAIN EVENT-MEN’S TITLE MATCH: Charlie Blackwell vs. ‘Redneck’ Bill Dickinson ©
Heather Cooper’s sultry tone then seized control, infusing the charged atmosphere with the gravity of the moment. “Ladies and gentlemen… tonight’s main event will be…” she began, pausing to let the crowd roar its two-word battle cry—”ONE FALL!”
“…and it will be for the MVW TITLE!” She allowed the words to hang, ripe with promise before a guitar riff cut the tension, heralding the entrance of the challenger. Cody Johnson’s “Texas Kind of Way” painted the auditory backdrop for the slow emergence of Charlie Blackwell.
“From Dallas, Texas… weighing in tonight at 224 pounds… he is a 2-time MVW Champion… please welcome back to MVW… CHARLIE! BLACK-WELLLLL!” Heather’s voice soared above the clamor, matching the crowd’s enthusiasm as Blackwell, clad in boots and trunks emblazoned with the Lone Star flag, acknowledged the love with a stoic nod.
Then, Hardy’s “Unapologetically Country as Hell” brought the masses to their feet. Through the fog emerged Sunny O’Callahan, her frizzy hair and retro attire a beacon in the haze, Southern Comfort in hand as if offering liquid courage to the awaiting gladiators.
“From Troy, Alabama… he is the ‘330 Pound Southern Brawler’ and the MVW CHAMPION!…” Heather’s introduction was almost drowned by the uproar, the name barely escaping before the titan himself appeared.
“‘REDNECK’ BILL! DICKINSON!” she bellowed, and there he stood—a colossus of wrestling lore, eyes locked with Blackwell’s steely gaze.
“Simple. Dickinson wins and he will break Charlie Blackwell’s record,” Thunderbolt laid out the stakes with a clarity that sliced through the tumult.
“Your referee for our main event will be Davey Keels!” Heather’s final announcement gave way to an expectant hush, a singular breath held by thousands.
“Can Dickinson do it?” Hall posed the question, his thoughts echoing the silent musings of thousands present.
“We’re going to find out right now,” Thunderbolt shot back, his gaze locked on the unfolding tableau.
The roar of the crowd surged like a tidal wave crashing against the barricades, a collective burst of energy that shook the very foundation of the arena.
“HE DID IT!” Thunderbolt’s voice thundered through the microphone, his words riding atop the tumultuous cheer. “HE DID IT! HE WILL BREAK CHARLIE BLACKWELL’S RECORD!”
In the ring, ‘Redneck’ Bill Dickinson stood, sweat glistening on his brow, the title belt being handed to him by referee Davey Keels. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, the 330-pound Southern Brawler’s facade cracked, and a spark of emotion flickered in his eyes—a testament to the history he had just written with his brute force.
“Thunderbolt, Charlie Blackwell defeated some pretty good competition to get here,” Hall chimed in, his voice tinged with respect for the journey these warriors had embarked upon. “Cletus T. Johnson, Scott Stevens who was HOW’s World Champion at the time. Bill Dickinson powered right through Blackwell and he has made history here tonight!”
Dickinson’s gaze swept across the sea of faces, each one mirroring the magnitude of what he had achieved. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, a rhythm synced with the chants of his name, acknowledging his dominance, his survival in a battle of titans.
“Blackwell comes over and shakes Dickinson’s hand,” Thunderbolt narrated the moment as the former champion extended his hand, an offering of respect hard-earned and freely given.
“Then he raises it in the air,” Hall added, his voice cracking slightly with the raw emotion of the moment. The gesture from Blackwell was more than sportsmanship—it was a passing of the torch, an acknowledgment that the record now belonged to another.
Sunny O’Callahan, her bottle of Southern Comfort momentarily forgotten, enveloped Dickinson in a hug that spoke volumes of their shared victories and trials. The rest of the Alabama Gang—R.G. Jenkins and Mark Hendry—charged down the ramp, their expressions awash with elation and pride as they joined in the celebration.
“All those years,” Hall said, “all those miles traveled, every punch thrown and taken… It led to this. To immortality.”
“Can you believe it, Hall? What a night!” Thunderbolt exclaimed, encapsulating the sentiment rippling through the stadium.
“Yes, it has been,” Hall agreed, his words a simple truth spoken in reverence to the spectacle they had all witnessed.
As the din of cheering persisted, Thunderbolt took a deep breath, ready to cap off the night that would be etched into the annals of wrestling history. “And remember folks, Wrestling Night in the Heartland returns in two weeks,” he announced with a nod to the future, the promise of more battles, more glory.
“Goodnight, everyone,” he signed off, his voice a steady constant that had guided viewers through countless matches, “on a historic night.”
With that, the show came to a close, but for ‘Redneck’ Bill Dickinson, standing tall in the center of the ring, the echoes of his triumph would resonate long after the lights dimmed and the crowd filed out into the night.
-Adam Ellis defeated Aaron Gray, Buckshot Henderson, and Randy Barrington at 15:06
-Jill Berg Enterprises defeated The Hanson Sisters to retain the Women’s Tag Team Title at 15:22
-No Quarter defeated The Stevens Dynasty to retain the MVW Tag Team Title at 10:14
-Victoria McGill defeated Amberley Stanton to retain the Women’s Title at 9:05
-‘Redneck’ Bill Dickinson defeated Charlie Blackwell to retain the MVW Title at 6:06