Sting's kid is actually winning matches down in Texas and we need to talk about it

The Relentless March of Time

Look, I need everyone to sit down and take a deep breath. The universe is aggressively reminding us of our mortality again. It is mid-May in the year 2026. We are supposedly past the era of the Icon. Sting rode off into the sunset, seemingly taking his baseball bat and rafters-dropping antics into a well-deserved retirement.

But wrestling doesn't let you go that easily. The DNA just reorganizes and shows back up in a pair of boots.

If you were paying attention to the grassroots scene this past weekend instead of just arguing on Twitter about TV ratings, you saw the news. Garrett Borden picked up a victory. He happens to share a surname and a whole lot of genetic material with the guy who tortured the nWo. The win happened down in Texas at the Rhodes Wrestling Academy during their Final Reckoning event.

Yes, Sting’s kid is out here taking bumps, hitting ropes, and actually getting his hand raised.

The Rhodes Pipeline

Let's talk about the venue for a second because that matters almost as much as the bloodline. He isn't down in Orlando running drills at the Performance Center while Shawn Michaels yells about camera angles. He chose the Rhodes system. Cody Rhodes has built a legitimate factory down there in Texas. RWA is turning into this weird, fascinating alternative training ground.

You go there to learn the old-school southern psychology with a modern polish. It makes total sense for a Borden to end up under the learning tree of a Rhodes. There is a bizarre poetry to it. You have to consider the history their fathers shared back when WCW was actually printing money instead of setting it on fire.

Dustin Rhodes is heavily involved down there too. If there is anyone on the planet who understands the crushing weight of following a legendary father, it is Dustin. He spent his early career trying to be Dusty, failed miserably, and then reinvented himself so completely with Goldust that people forgot his last name for a minute. That is exactly the kind of mentorship Garrett needs right now. He doesn't need someone teaching him how to do a sloppy Scorpion Death Drop. He needs someone teaching him how to mentally survive the shadow.

The Burden of the Bat

But let's not start fantasy booking the kid to win a world title next Thursday. We need a massive reality check here.

Winning a match at a student showcase is a nice milestone. It means you remembered the spot. It means you didn't drop the other guy on his neck. You probably sold the finish decently enough. But it is fundamentally a high school play compared to the Broadway production of national television. The leap from looking competent at an academy show to working a live TV match without getting eaten alive by the crowd is the size of the Grand Canyon.

This is the part where we have to have the uncomfortable conversation about second-generation wrestlers. It is the ultimate double-edged sword in this business. Yes, your last name gets your foot in the door. It gets you a look that a thousand other guys grinding in armories will never get. The promoters return your calls. The trainers give you the benefit of the doubt. It is an undeniable, massive advantage.

But the tax on that advantage is brutal. The expectations are completely divorced from reality. When some random kid from Ohio botches a suplex on an indie show, nobody cares. When Garrett Borden does it, someone is uploading the clip to Reddit with a caption about how he is tarnishing the legacy of Starrcade '97. The margin for error is essentially zero.

You look at guys who figured it out. Bron Breakker realized he was a genetic freak and just started running through people like a bowling ball. Dominik Mysterio leaned into the absolute absurdity of his situation and became the most hated man in the hemisphere. They found a character that worked. What exactly is Garrett Borden going to do?

He can't just put on the face paint. If he does that, he is dead in the water. It becomes a cheap tribute act. A cover band playing the hits at a local bar. The fans will turn on it faster than a botched referee count. He has to find something that is entirely his own while carrying around a name that means everything to a generation of fans. That is a terrifying tightrope to walk.

The Reality Check

And honestly, from what we've seen so far in his early development, he is very raw. He has the size, sure. He looks athletic enough. But the timing, the psychology, the micro-expressions that actually make a star—that stuff takes years. Decades, sometimes. You don't just inherit ring psychology through osmosis. You have to earn it by working in front of thirty people in a freezing building who hate your guts.

I worry that the internet hype machine is going to ruin this kid before he even gets started. Every time he hits a basic clothesline, some dirt sheet is going to write an article comparing it to his dad's Stinger Splash. It is exhausting. Let the guy learn how to lock up properly without the ghost of WCW hovering over his shoulder.

The Final Reckoning event was just a stepping stone. It is a proof of concept that he can survive a training camp. He can put on a passable match in front of friends and family. That is literally it. It is not a debut on Dynamite. It is not an NXT breakout tournament. It is the wrestling equivalent of passing a driving test in an empty parking lot.

The real test comes later. The test is when he goes out on the road. When he has to work with a guy who is blown up three minutes into the match. When he has to improvise a finish because the referee missed a spot. That is where you find out if you are a wrestler or just a guy playing wrestler because your dad was famous.

I respect the hell out of him for trying. He absolutely did not have to do this. He could have just lived a quiet life, enjoying the royalties from those massive Crow Sting t-shirt sales. The fact that he is willing to take flat back bumps on a canvas stretched over plywood says he actually wants this. He has the sickness that makes people want to be pro wrestlers.

But we have to grade him on a curve. A harsh one. The wrestling business is incredibly unforgiving right now. The rosters are bloated. The talent level is higher than it has ever been in the history of the sport. AEW Double or Nothing is six days away, and the card is stacked with guys doing things that defy physics. You can't just be okay anymore. You have to be exceptional just to get on the pre-show.

So, congratulations to Garrett Borden on the win at RWA. It is a cool moment. It is a fun little trivia fact for the timeline. But the hard work hasn't even started yet. He is currently at the bottom of a very steep, very treacherous mountain. He has the best boots money can buy, but he still has to make the climb entirely by himself.

Let's check back in two years and see if he's still hitting the ropes. Maybe he decides that being a civilian is a lot less painful than taking a superplex. Because right now, all we know is that he survived a weekend in Texas. The rest is just noise.