I am short, opinionated, and have a bad mustache. There isn't much these three features have added to my life but I figured there was some field where they could be of assistance. Voila! In comes pro wrestling, I became very interested in the indie scene after watching the CM Punk documentary (ironic that a WWE doc got me into the indies) and I knew I had to be a part of it.
I saw a flyer for a local wrasslin' show in my town so I contacted the booker and offered him some advertising on our station in exchange for some training. I host a radio show here in Northwestern Illinois so talking was no issue. Presentation? That wasn't too tough either as I mentioned I am quite short which gets instant heat from kids and dumb people. Throw in a cheap hat and poorly grown mustache and I was ready to rock.
When the date came I was actually very nervous which took me by surprise because I have performed in other forms of entertainment pretty much my whole life but this was a little different. I wrote up a promo that was very long and hoped that I'd remember half of it. Went to the thrift store to get my suit and I was on my way. By the way the jacket I bought from the thrift store had two separate funeral programs in the inside pocket, it was clearly now my mourning jacket. (If you get that joke you deserve One Big Holiday)
So I came to the show as green as they come and had no idea how the hell this was going to go. I talked with the wrestlers to get an idea of what to possibly expect and they were quite helpful. "You're gonna be getting hit in the nuts with a dodgeball" the booker says to me nonchalantly like Bill Lumberg would talk to his employees. "Cool" I respond as if I had just been told to file a TPS report. It was odd that when he told me about my future nutshot my mood actually improved, I had a bigger role than I had thought and he was somewhat relying on me for some heat, it felt good.
I did my promo and as expected remembered about half of it which was fine, I got the good parts in I think. We did the match and when they did the dodgeball spot they put me in the corner and as if planned my pants split right on cue. Manna from wrasslin' heaven. The crowd laughed as I took one off the boys and fell in fetal position, success.
I got a high from that performance that I hadn't felt for a while, much like PCP and I couldn't sleep, much like PCP. I have had these before from gigs my band has played and doing good stuff on the radio but this was different. It was different because I didn't know what to expect and honestly thought I would bomb or not live up to my own standards. It was a hell of a time and have done a few shows since but it's the first time that you'll never forget. Fortunately for this first time my performance lasted longer than 45 seconds, oddly enough though I ended up in fetal position both times.
Here's my promo and the nutshot if you're interested:
Full Match, the kids had ripped my hat off my head and tie off my shirt at this point: