It wasn't until recently when I just happened to flip by Monday Night Raw that my interest in professional wrestling began to grow again. Sure I had semi payed attention, off and on, for the past few years, but this was something else. This renewed interest isn't just a need/want to watch Raw on Mondays. This renewed interest instead was a passion, one that I haven’t felt in almost ten years. I don’t just want to watch wrestling on TV, I want to somehow be a part of it.
Ten years ago, at the ripe age of sixteen, I decided “Hey, I've always wanted to wrestle, so let's do it.” I still remember the independent wrestler who referred me where to go to. “The Cajun Kid” Mark Vaughn was a wrestler I used to talk with often online on AIM (This was long before the days of Facebook, MySpace and blogging). One day I shared with him that I too wanted to one day wrestle, and it was through him that I learned about High Impact Wrestling. HIW was a small independent promotion that ran out of Texas City, Texas, about 45 miles southeast of Houston where I grew up. He told me there was no charge, to just show up and they'd let me train. I remember how nervous I was as I pulled up and walked to the ring for the very first time. A few people asked if I wanted to come inside, which I swiftly declined, saying I was just there to watch. As a matter of fact I didn’t even get in the ring that day. It wasn’t until the next week that I finally decided to climb in that ring.
I told everyone that I was 17 since they probably would not have let me do anything if I they knew I was only 16. I stood nervously in the corner, dumbfounded, yet excited as I listened to pointers on the proper way to bump. I still remember the sting and pain of that first bump. It was nothing like I could have imagined it being. But as much as it hurt, it was also exciting. I remember jumping right back up smiling, as though it didn’t hurt at all. That first day flew by with bumping drills, running the ropes, and the introductory chop line. For those wondering, the chop line is when you're in the corner and everyone gets to come by, one by one, and chop you. As if my back wasn’t going to ache enough from bumping, now my chest was bright red, raw, and bleeding. It was a good feeling.
When my alarm went off the next morning, my brain told me to sit up in bed, but my body said I don’t think so. I literally had to roll out of bed, and land on my feet as I fell out of bed. As I slowly stood up I wondered to myself if this excruciating pain would ever subside. Fortunately over time it did, and as time went by, when I woke up in the morning my body would hurt less and less. I continued to train once a week. After about three months of training and running practice matches, I was told they wanted to use me in a run-in at the next monthly show. I was stoked, and excited about the possibility of finally getting to do something in front of a live crowd. Yet that excitement would not last long, and its not because I got pulled from doing a run-in, well actually I did. I got pulled in order to actually work a match. A weeks worth of excitement, turned instantly to a lifetime of horror. (I'll blog about that more in-depth at a later time.)
In the end though, it all turned out okay. As did the other handful of matches that I would go on an wrestle before enlisting into the Navy. Even though that was so long ago, that passion has come back to me. Does that mean I want to go out there and bump all over the place? Maybe... But even more so, I just want to be apart of it, be a part of something. Listen here guys, I know I'm lucky. I'm married to a beautiful wife an I have two wonderful children. Unlike so many other people I've actually lived out my dream, a dream that I had when I watched Shawn Michaels come oh so close to capturing the WWF Championship at Wrestlemania XI. That dream was to simply wrestle in front of a live crowd, which I had the pleasure of doing. It may not have been 10,000 people, but the adrenaline and the feeling was the same to me. And here ten years later, a part of me longs for that again. Weather it's wrestling, announcing, or just being somehow involved, a part of me wants that again.
Thanks for the read guys, I hope you enjoyed.
Ten years ago, at the ripe age of sixteen, I decided “Hey, I've always wanted to wrestle, so let's do it.” I still remember the independent wrestler who referred me where to go to. “The Cajun Kid” Mark Vaughn was a wrestler I used to talk with often online on AIM (This was long before the days of Facebook, MySpace and blogging). One day I shared with him that I too wanted to one day wrestle, and it was through him that I learned about High Impact Wrestling. HIW was a small independent promotion that ran out of Texas City, Texas, about 45 miles southeast of Houston where I grew up. He told me there was no charge, to just show up and they'd let me train. I remember how nervous I was as I pulled up and walked to the ring for the very first time. A few people asked if I wanted to come inside, which I swiftly declined, saying I was just there to watch. As a matter of fact I didn’t even get in the ring that day. It wasn’t until the next week that I finally decided to climb in that ring.
I told everyone that I was 17 since they probably would not have let me do anything if I they knew I was only 16. I stood nervously in the corner, dumbfounded, yet excited as I listened to pointers on the proper way to bump. I still remember the sting and pain of that first bump. It was nothing like I could have imagined it being. But as much as it hurt, it was also exciting. I remember jumping right back up smiling, as though it didn’t hurt at all. That first day flew by with bumping drills, running the ropes, and the introductory chop line. For those wondering, the chop line is when you're in the corner and everyone gets to come by, one by one, and chop you. As if my back wasn’t going to ache enough from bumping, now my chest was bright red, raw, and bleeding. It was a good feeling.
When my alarm went off the next morning, my brain told me to sit up in bed, but my body said I don’t think so. I literally had to roll out of bed, and land on my feet as I fell out of bed. As I slowly stood up I wondered to myself if this excruciating pain would ever subside. Fortunately over time it did, and as time went by, when I woke up in the morning my body would hurt less and less. I continued to train once a week. After about three months of training and running practice matches, I was told they wanted to use me in a run-in at the next monthly show. I was stoked, and excited about the possibility of finally getting to do something in front of a live crowd. Yet that excitement would not last long, and its not because I got pulled from doing a run-in, well actually I did. I got pulled in order to actually work a match. A weeks worth of excitement, turned instantly to a lifetime of horror. (I'll blog about that more in-depth at a later time.)
In the end though, it all turned out okay. As did the other handful of matches that I would go on an wrestle before enlisting into the Navy. Even though that was so long ago, that passion has come back to me. Does that mean I want to go out there and bump all over the place? Maybe... But even more so, I just want to be apart of it, be a part of something. Listen here guys, I know I'm lucky. I'm married to a beautiful wife an I have two wonderful children. Unlike so many other people I've actually lived out my dream, a dream that I had when I watched Shawn Michaels come oh so close to capturing the WWF Championship at Wrestlemania XI. That dream was to simply wrestle in front of a live crowd, which I had the pleasure of doing. It may not have been 10,000 people, but the adrenaline and the feeling was the same to me. And here ten years later, a part of me longs for that again. Weather it's wrestling, announcing, or just being somehow involved, a part of me wants that again.
Thanks for the read guys, I hope you enjoyed.
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