🎤 Interview by “D-Man,” CTF Inmate Correspondent
This week started off in harmony—literally. Cain went to church with my cellmate, where the choir is practicing one song: "I Need Thee Every Hour." Cain’s a baritone, and he told me with a proud grin, "I was harmonizing really good this time." I’ll keep tabs on that choir story—something tells me it’s going somewhere.
I kept him on the topic of music and asked about his participation in the Native drum circle this week. "Me and six or seven guys were on the big drum," he said. It’s large enough for everyone to sit comfortably around in chairs. There’s something ancient and healing about that kind of shared rhythm—an unspoken language.
Cain’s music taste is far from ordinary. He said he mostly listens to ayahuasca ballets—"Native music for the Americas," he explained. His favorite? "Guacamayo Live by Danit." I told him I’d look it up. First concert ever? "Insane Clown Posse, freshman year." What? LOL! Moving along...
Changing gears, I wanted to explore Cain’s vision of plant medicine. "What would a ceremony look like?" I asked. He laid it out like a blueprint: "It depends on the type and method, but ideally, the person brings people they’re very close to. We’d meet a couple times beforehand—talk about diet, clean out toxins. I’d guide them through breathwork, help them recognize what they might feel. The ceremony would be outside in nature with ayahuasca music playing. I’d tell them not to expect anything—just to know why they’re there. What are they healing from? You’ve got to be ready to face your trauma. It takes courage. And the experience may not follow your intention—sometimes you need to clean out the subconscious first."
You could see this mattered to him. It sparked something. "I borrowed Wim Hof’s book," Cain added, "and he says breathwork builds alkalinity in the blood, which helps heal disease." "Yeah," I said, "I always get a metal taste in my mouth afterward."
Then I asked, "What’s something about being locked up that no one would understand unless they lived it?" Cain thought. "The growth. People would be surprised. Most guys here are doing the internal work. They’ve got time for it, and most people outside don’t."
I followed up: "What lesson from your fight career helps you the most in here?"
"Growing up, we didn’t have much. Then everything changed in my career. But I learned that the exterior—possessions, status—doesn’t define the interior. You choose how you feel in your heart."
I shared a quote from Life is Messy Journal by Matthew Kelly: "It is important to remember your story... A person who forgets his or her story goes mad... Take time to remember your story." Cain nodded. So we talked about his roots. "Where did your parents meet?" "Eloy, Arizona." "How old were they?" "Dad was 28. Mom was 10 years older." "How did they meet?" "At a dance. My abuelita (grandmother) told my mom to never say no if a man asked her to dance—she might get hit. She didn’t want to dance with my dad but felt like she had to." Cain laughed—clearly a story told before.
His father was born in San Luis RĂo Colorado, a border town in Sonora, Mexico, raised by a mother and older brother who "treated him pretty bad." "So he had a lot of ACE’s?" I asked. Cain nodded. "Yeah, my dad went through a lot." His mom? "She was born in Fresno. Her parents were part of the Bracero Program—seasonal workers from Mexico. My grandfather got caught selling guns and was deported. My mom started working the fields young. That’s how she met my dad—traveling the Arizona circuit together."
"How many kids?" "Three. Me, my sister, my brother."
"Any knowledge of your grandparents?" "One was from Spain—got land grants from the Queen. Married my great-grandmother, who was Yaqui—Native people from southern Arizona and northern Mexico. They were tall, big, and fierce." "Is that where you get your size?" Cain chuckled. "Most likely. There’s a story about them knife-fighting each other. My grandparents."
We both laughed, but the warrior blood runs deep in Cain. Forged by fire.
We shifted to MMA. "Your second fight was against Jeremiah Constant in St. Petersburg?" "Yeah, in Russia—not Florida." "How was that?" "Cool. We got there weeks early for promotion. Russia’s the home of Fedor, who I was a fan of."
"Any stories?" "I broke my hand that night." Cain showed the scar. "Had him down, Bob Cook was in my corner yelling 'kick him!' So I got up and soccer-kicked him in the ribs." "Extra hard because of the broken hand?" "No. Just because Bob wouldn’t stop yelling." He laughed. "Actually, it was Bob’s fault. Shit wrap job on my hands—barely felt like they were wrapped at all." Classic gym story.
I mentioned a Bellator fight I saw on Fubo TV. "Ryan Bader was champ in 2022. Still fighting?" Cain smiled. "Maybe." "Is he your age?" "Yeah. I turn 43 on the 28th."
"Who else from ASU went pro?" "Dollaway. John Moraga had a title fight. Aaron Simpson. Eric Larkin. Even our coach, Tom Ortiz, had two pro fights." "You guys fight at practice?" "No," Cain smirked. "We fought at parties." "With gloves?" Just a head shake no. That was the answer.
Finally, I asked the fan question of the week—from @HeartoftheMat: "Cain, you’ve inspired many through fighting and now through personal growth. Was there ever a time you felt truly broken—and what helped you rebuild?" Cain paused. Asked me to repeat the last part. "We moved a lot growing up—from house to house. I remember feeling worthless. But I used that anger and pain as fuel. I channeled it into sport. Society normalizes violence—and I found my place in that."
Until next week— We keep growing. We keep learning. We keep showing up every Sunday with Cain.
That’s a wrap for Episode 7. If you’re getting something out of these, hit the share button. Let’s keep showing the world what Sundays with Cain is all about: breath, purpose, and legacy.
Would you like to help support one of Cain's favorite charities? Well you can do exactly that! Purchase a "I STAND WITH CAIN" Premium Vinyl Sticker – $1 Goes to Protect Kids.
Stand up. Speak out. Show the world where your heart is.
The Cain approved “I STAND WITH CAIN – PROTECT THE INNOCENT” vinyl sticker is more than just a statement—it’s a declaration of support for those who refuse to stay silent in the face of injustice.
The Cain approved “I STAND WITH CAIN – PROTECT THE INNOCENT” vinyl sticker is more than just a statement—it’s a declaration of support for those who refuse to stay silent in the face of injustice.
Order yours at the link! https://www.rollnrumble.com/products/i-stand-with-cain-vinyl-sticker-1-goes-to-protect-kids