A viral attack at a small LA wrestling show — and a father trying to calm a storm
The clip is hard to watch: a man is out cold, his body shaking on the canvas, while the referee still counts the pin. That scene, streamed live and then ripped across social media, is the center of a Saturday night wrestling show in Sun Valley that turned into a police case — and pushed UFC great Rampage Jackson into damage-control mode.
On August 23, 2025, at a KnokX Pro Wrestling event in Los Angeles, Jackson’s son, Raja, jumped into the ring and blitzed Stuart Smith — known to fans as "Syko Stu." Video from the broadcast on Kick shows Raja forcefully slamming Smith to the mat and throwing more than two dozen rapid punches to his face and head. Smith went limp. Blood pooled. His legs convulsed.
As fans yelled for help, the referee let the scheduled opponent roll Smith over and score a three-count, then waved for assistance. Wrestlers and staff rushed in and separated Raja. Paramedics took Smith, 44, to a nearby hospital with serious facial trauma.
In the hours after, rumors swirled online that Smith had "flat-lined." Jackson addressed the frenzy on social media, apologizing for his son and calling it bad judgment and a "work that went wrong." A fellow wrestler on the card, Douglas Malo, told reporters he saw Smith at the hospital awake and talking, with broken bones in his face and "a lot of teeth" knocked out. He said doctors expected Smith to be released Sunday.
The Los Angeles Police Department confirmed officers responded to the venue Saturday night and took a report for alleged assault. Detectives are reviewing statements and video from the live stream and from fans in the crowd.
KnokX Pro Wrestling Academy, the group behind the show, said the incident began as a planned spot — the kind of staged moment wrestling uses to get a reaction — but crossed the line into a "selfish and irresponsible act of violence." The school said it is focused on Smith’s recovery and is reviewing internal safety protocols.
What happened in Sun Valley, and the questions it raised
Independent wrestling lives in the gray area between scripted theater and real risk. On Saturday, that gray turned pitch black. The chain of events, as laid out by Jackson and people who were there, suggests a breakdown in communication and control.
Jackson said on social media that his son had been hit in the head backstage moments before Smith’s match and was told he could get "payback" in the ring as part of the show. That’s wrestling language for a pre-planned retaliation spot — a surprise run-in to heat up the crowd. But inside the ropes, timing and limits matter. Everyone involved needs to know who is doing what, and how far it goes.
In this case, the punches did not stop. The video shows a sustained ground-and-pound sequence more familiar to MMA than pro wrestling. Smith’s body goes rigid, then slack. At that point, in major promotions, a referee would usually halt the match, wave off the result, and call in medical staff immediately. Here, the ref finished the pinfall first. That decision drew almost as much outrage as the attack itself.
People who work indie shows say these events often operate on thin budgets and volunteer crews. Referees might be trainees. There’s rarely a ringside doctor. When something real happens in a "fake" fight, seconds matter, and the person with the whistle may not have the training to tell a worked knockout from an actual concussion. Saturday showed what that gap can look like when it goes wrong in front of a camera.
The hospital update eased the worst fears. Malo’s account — that Smith was conscious and speaking — counters the claim that he "flat-lined." Still, "awake and talking" does not erase the injuries. Facial fractures and dental damage are serious. Concussions can evolve over days. The wrestler will likely face surgery and a long recovery away from bumps and ropes.
KnokX Pro’s statement points to a second layer: responsibility. If this was supposed to be a controlled spot, who approved it? Was the referee briefed? Did anyone lay out a clear finish if something went sideways? In bigger companies, producers map out segments beat by beat and assign a "go/no-go" person to pull the plug when needed. Indie locker rooms rarely have that depth chart. Saturday’s chaos looked like a segment that had a first beat and no plan for beats two and three.
Then there’s the role of the crowd and the camera. The event streamed on Kick, and the clip leaped to TikTok, where shock value travels fast. Within hours, the video drew thousands of comments accusing everyone — Raja for the attack, the referee for the count, the promoter for lax safety, and yes, the culture of wrestling for blurring the line so much that even insiders can lose track of what’s real. That backlash is now part of the story, forcing the school and the Jacksons to answer questions in public.
For law enforcement, the case is simpler. The LAPD has a video of a man beating another until he loses consciousness. Whether there was a script will matter to the promoter’s liability, but not as much to criminal investigators if they decide the force used was excessive. In California, possible charges in cases like this often fall under assault or battery causing serious bodily injury. The district attorney’s office typically weighs injury reports, intent, and cooperation from the parties involved before filing.
Civil claims are also on the table. Smith could pursue damages for medical costs, lost income, and pain and suffering. A court would look at the idea of "assumption of risk" — wrestlers accept the danger of controlled moves — versus the duty of care owed by promoters, referees, and anyone who steps in without being part of the match. If a surprise run-in is part of the script, the promoter owns that plan. If someone goes off script and causes real harm, responsibility can spread fast.
For the Jackson family, the optics are rough. Rampage is one of MMA’s most famous light heavyweights. His name carries weight in any fight room. He apologized quickly and called the moment a lapse in judgment tied to a misunderstanding about what was supposed to happen. That apology matters to fans and to police, but it won’t end the debate over what level of control adults in the building had — or should have had — over his son’s actions.
Raja’s background in wrestling or MMA isn’t clear. What matters now is the next steps. Does KnokX Pro suspend him from future shows? Does the LAPD recommend charges? Does Smith, once out of the hospital, decide to press ahead with a case? Those decisions will shape how the wider wrestling community treats this going forward.
The referee’s role is under the microscope, too. On some indies, refs are taught to keep the show moving unless a producer yells to stop. On others, they’re told to listen first to the wrestlers in the ring. If neither direction is clear, you get what happened Saturday — a finish that reads as heartless on camera even if the intent was to tidy up a segment. Expect a lot of small promotions to hold emergency meetings and rewrite their cue sheets after seeing this clip.
There’s also a conversation here about training. Schools often drill bumps, holds, and selling, but not everyone runs full modules on concussion signs, airway management, or how to call an audible when a performer freezes or seizes. Larger promotions now have more formal concussion protocols and spotters who can wave off action. The indie scene, with its thin margins, lags behind. This case may push gyms and promoters to partner with local EMTs, require pre-show briefings that include stop-the-match signals, and bar any non-wrestler run-ins without a designated agent at ringside.
People inside wrestling will talk about "receipts" — the tradition of giving one back when you take a stiff shot. To fans, that code can look like chaos. Saturday showed how the old locker-room language doesn’t translate when a live stream catches a prolonged beatdown and a real medical event. The gap between theatrics and actual harm is the space regulators and promoters need to police better, even if pro wrestling sits outside athletic commission oversight in many states.
So where does this go from here? Short term, Smith needs rest, scans, dental work, and time. Rampage and Raja will likely stay quiet while police finish their report. KnokX Pro will update fans when it can and remind them it’s checking on Smith’s health. The social media fire will burn for a few more days, especially if new angles of the clip surface. If charges come, they’ll likely follow once doctors finalize injury reports.
Long term, this is the kind of moment that forces a reset. Promoters may ban unscripted run-ins and write clearer safety roles for refs. Wrestlers will point to the tape in locker-room meetings and say, "If he’s out, we stop." And parents in the business — even ones as famous as Rampage — will feel the pressure to set lines their kids cannot cross, especially when a "work" tempts someone to make it real.
For now, one thing is firm: despite the rumor mill, people who saw Smith at the hospital say he was conscious and speaking. He was badly hurt, but not gone. That doesn’t make the video any easier to watch. It does make the next steps — accountability, training, and some hard choices about where the act ends — even more urgent.