A Tribute To Adrian “Lionheart” Mccallum

lionheartThis was going to be a long winded thing about mental health, but it didn’t feel right. There will be a time to talk more about that.

People have a huge void in their lives today. One that wasn’t there this time yesterday. Those people have each other and that will be of great comfort, but they don’t have him and ultimately, there will be no comfort for that.

It is so unbelievably tragic that a man who had so much left to give felt like this was his only option. Him no longer being with us shouldn’t make anyone feel ‘could I have done more?’ it will, but it shouldn’t. I hope anyone feeling that way can let go of that soon. Its not your fault, its not anyone’s fault. Its just the worst possible outcome of mental illness. The reason it is taken so seriously. It robs people of time they deserved.

Adrian Mccallum deserved more time. Not because he was a good guy (and he was) Not because he was talented wrestler (and he was) but because he was loved. He deserved to feel that. Even if its hard to feel it when you’re suffering mentally, one day the haze would have cleared, even if just for a moment, and he would have felt it. He would have realised he was cherished and appreciated and maybe the demons would have stayed away for a while.

People have spoken about the togetherness in the Scottish/British Wrestling community really being helpful in the immediate aftermath. Seeing the tributes across the board. People sharing in his memory together. People who barely knew him but were still touched by his presence. Then there are his friends. His family. The people who knew him well. They are the ones truly experiencing grief right now, even if it feels like the rest of us are right there with them, we aren’t. None of us can truly know how any of them are feeling. Yesterday their pal was here. There were memories still to be made. Laughs still to be had.

Today all that exists is painful longing. Heartache. Well its not all that exists. The memories already made. The right good ones. The life defining, friendship defining, relationship defining, career defining stoaters. In times of tragedy like this, that’s the one slight positive. In a world filled with shite. Filled with misery. All that good stuff comes to the forefront. People remember why they loved. What bonded them to the person they’re missing. For a moment they feel like he’s still here. The memories will ensure that in a way, he always is.

Keep posting the tributes. It will make people smile even if the smile is tinged with sadness. It will make those closest to him smile just like Adrian seemed to in pretty much every photo I’ve seen since this happened. He revelled in making others happy like many of the saddest people do. He revelled in it because he knew when they were laughing at his patter, a funny snapchat or anything else he might do to make someone smile, that they weren’t feeling as bad as he did at times.

Please reach out if you’re feeling off in the wake of this. This is not just some celebrity who’s work we appreciated from afar. He meant so much more than that to so many. I distinctly remember leaving the sit down interview we done on cloud fucking nine. At that time I had no idea why people of that standing would ever speak to me at all, far less for a couple of hours, but he shared stories, spoke with honesty, and made me feel like a superstar that day. He had a way of doing that it seemed.

Men have a way of pretending its fine when its not. A way of admitting to having a problem and only revealing a percentage of it. Never wanting to seem weak by admitting they suffer. Fuck weakness. Fuck this outdated idea that men should be men. Adrian Mccallum was far from weak. He persevered through so much personal tragedy. The loss of one of his closest pals in wrestling to cancer. The loss of a large chunk of career to injury. The loss of seemingly his purpose in wrestling. Yet the last time we saw him wrestle, he was adding another title to his collection. Triumphant in another main event. He overcame all that shit to reign supreme.

He went from “nothing for you mate” to ICW World Champion.

He went from having his neck broken by a move, to using that move as part of his redemption story.

He went from “fanny” to hero.

He went from Lionheart to “Mad Leon”

More importantly than all that, he was loved. To everyone feeling it a lot more than I am today, I am so fucking sorry for your loss. I’m sorry your pal, your brother, your mainest man. I’m sorry he’s no longer here. He might have deserved more time but with the stories, the photos and (in time) the matches being shared his memory will live on.

R.I.P Adrian ‘Lionheart’ Mccallum.


If you are suffering from mental health issues and feel you need some help, please reach out to someone. Below are some phone numbers you can call/websites you can visit. Even if its not an option like this, speak to someone. 



SAMH: 0141 530 1000

Samaritans: 116 123

Breathing Space: 0800 83 85 87

Turning Point: 0800 652 3757









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