Unprepared to Say Goodbye to My Generation of Pro Wrestling Legends

Pro wrestler Benjaman Satterley, known as Pac, passed away on Sunday at the age of 40.

The wrestling community is mourning the loss of Benjamin Satterley, aka Pac. Hailing from Newcastle upon Tyne, England, Satterley kicked off his wrestling journey in 2004 and went on to dazzle fans worldwide with his innovative style.

This news is hard to process. As someone who started watching wrestling in 2020 and has only followed one promotion, I lack the historical context that many long-time fans have. While I feel a sense of loss when a legendary wrestler passes, I don’t have the same personal connection since I didn’t witness their prime years in the ’80s or ’90s. My favorite wrestlers are still young and have plenty of time ahead of them.

To go from watching Pac dominate in a match one day to hearing he’s gone the next is surreal. What happened? How could this be? He was only 40, just five years older than me. It’s a stark reminder of how fragile life can be, especially after recently losing Andy Williams, known as The Butcher, at 48. Despite his intimidating presence, Pac was essentially a peer in age. He still had rivalries to pursue and championships to chase. I was eager to see him contend for the World Championship someday.

Pac played a crucial role in shaping my love for pro wrestling. My first introduction to him was through his involvement in a faction called Death Triangle, which I initially thought was a hilariously absurd name. Paired with the Lucha Brothers, Penta and Rey Fenix, I found the combination odd at first. Here were two high-flying luchadors in vibrant masks alongside a muscular guy with a scraggly beard, who looked like he was barely holding it together. He seemed like just another generic muscle wrestler, and I almost overlooked him.

That would have been a huge mistake. Once I saw him and his partners in action, I was hooked. They created some incredible moments together, and it’s unfortunate that injuries and the eventual departure of the Lucha Bros. meant they couldn’t stay united longer. They held the trios championship for 126 days, winning it against the Best Friends and losing it to The Elite.

While Pac was never my personal favorite, he was a foundational figure in my appreciation for wrestling. He challenged many of my favorites, elevating their performances while showcasing his own skills. His ongoing rivalry with my absolute favorite, Orange Cassidy, exemplified this. Pac’s ability to subvert my expectations made me rethink my views on wrestling. Orange’s laid-back persona contrasted sharply with Pac’s intense demeanor, which I typically found off-putting but grew to admire in his case. His hair always looked damp, and he unleashed fierce howls of anger. When he spoke on the mic, he was relentless. Their rivalry was electric, with Orange’s nonchalance driving Pac to the brink of fury.

Those two had some unforgettable matches. I never cheered for Pac, as I gravitated toward the quirky heroes rather than the brooding antagonists. Yet, whenever I knew he was facing off against Orange, Darby Allin, or Eddie Kingston, I was excited. I knew it would be a fantastic match, and everything felt elevated with Pac in the ring.

Pac also had an epic RPG villain battle theme.

Over the years, Pac’s appearances fluctuated, sometimes due to injuries, but it often felt like the promotion didn’t fully utilize him outside of Death Triangle and his feud with Orange. He joined the Death Riders, where he seemed to get a bit overshadowed, but he still delivered in various matchups, facing off against talents like Kazuchika Okada, Will Ospreay, and Swerve Strickland. One of my favorite storylines involved Malakai Black spraying Pac with his eerie black mist, leading to Pac showing up blindfolded for his next match, executing impressive moves before revealing that the mist had no effect on him and unleashing his fury on Black.

Pac’s last match took place just this past Saturday against Andrade El Idolo, and I regret not paying closer attention. I was in the kitchen preparing snacks, not realizing it would be my last chance to see him wrestle live. I wish I had witnessed him flipping Andrade into the barricade or executing his signature Black Arrow move in real-time.

It’s common for peers to share heartfelt tributes when someone passes, and it seems Pac was well-loved both in and out of the ring. Many have shared their fond memories of him, showcasing a side of him that was warm and genuine, a stark contrast to his fierce in-ring persona. It’s a reminder that wrestlers are just people, often very different from their characters, and just as mortal as the rest of us.

To many, he was a bastard.

To my kids, he was Ben – the guy who brought them Kinder Eggs from the UK and turned them into Newcastle fans.

To me, he was an incredible friend for 20 years. Watching a Black Arrow from inside the ring still takes my breath away.

The best of us.

He was one of the most articulate and naturally gifted athletes in our industry. He loved a good laugh and always took care of me whenever I was in Europe. I made sure to hit him with some inside joke every time we met. Love you, Pac, and I wish life hadn’t turned out this way.

PAC is one of my all-time favorite wrestlers. I was fortunate enough to meet him, work alongside him, and even more fortunate to know him personally. He was a better man than I could have ever hoped for.

I am heartbroken.

I love you, Ben. Rest easy, mate.

I wasn’t ready to feel the sadness of losing a beloved wrestling icon so soon. I’m not prepared for the tributes that will come or the matches that will honor him, but I know he would have wanted everyone to keep giving their all in the ring, regardless of his presence.

Forever our Bastard. Always in our hearts.

Did I ever get a chance to chant it at him? I’m not sure. Well, damn it, he’s my bastard too.