I have a few, but I'll start with this one

This was this past January in Princeton IL. It was a benefit show for the MDA, and I was asked to do it. This was supposed to be a huge show, and every day there was another name announced for the show. The day of the show, I go online to print out directions and I see the largest roster I have ever seen in my life. I counted 52 "workers" on this show. As I look over to see who I knew, I realized that maybe half of the guys on the show were trained. I drove down with three other guys, and we were taking bets on how bad the show would be, and how long it would run. We start laughing because they threw 20 of the non trained guys into a royal, and the winner litterally got to have a match with 2 trained guys. That's how bad this is.

So we hit traffic coming out of Chicago, and hit the building right at 7pm, which was belltime......or so we thought. We walk in the front door and realize that all of the boys are still working out in the ring, and the the ring was just finished being set up 15 minutes before we walk in the door. To top all of this off, they opened doors at 6:30, which means that everyone was working out in the ring, with the marks watching. I had asked to go on early because I had somewhere to be later in the evening, and seeing as I was 2 hours from home, I wanted to manage the 3 guys I drove down with in the opener in a 6 man tag match. I look at the line-up and I am only managing a tag, and then they have me managing the main event. I got things changed to where I would manage in the opener and then the match before intermission, so that I could leave and still have some time to meet up with my lady friend.

The bell rings and they do a little opening introduction, which is interupted by a guy who proceeds to cut a 30 minute promo for his match. The kid comes to the back and now I'm ready to go to the ring, no wait.....PRE SHOW MATCHES!!! I was told that I was first on the MAIN SHOW, but there were 6 pre show matches. First 2 were fine, very short, squashes. Next one went about 10, and then 2 more 6 minute squashes. The last "pre-shw" match was a 4 way spot fest that went 45 fucking minutes. It would have gone longer but it is about 8:30ish and I send some of the trained guys out there to shit can everyone.

Now the main show:
We go out and then the other two guys come out. One of the baby faces starts cutting a promo, and he starts going on for about 3-5 minutes. I have one of the guys I managing just grab the mic and give it to the ring announcer, and our match begins. Decent match, and they go home in about 8 minutes. After the match the babyface tries to bump me, and I tell him I am coming out in 4 matches so I can't bump because it would make him look like shit. He rolls me in the ring anyways and I just continue to roll to the other side of the ring and run away.

The other match happens and now I can leave. I was taught that if I do a charity show, I should never take a pay day because all of the money should go to the charity or the benefit in which the funds are being raised. The kid running the show (who btw was a total idiot) proceeds to start crying and say he cant pay any of the boys because he can't find the cash box. I then ask him who he was going to pay, and he pointed to a bunch of the untrained guys. Now a bunch of people hear this and they are pissed because some people were asked to work for free, and the untrained kids are taking pay days from what was supposed to be a charity show. I figured since the house was only 65 people, how much money could possibly be lost.

I end up leaving the building at about 11pm, and I get to my door at about 2:30 because of traffic. Needless to say I never met up with the lady friend. I went online the next morning to see if anything happened after I left and evidently during the battle royal, one of the kids did a dive and hit an elderly woman, causing the match to stop and an ambulance to arrive.

God I love wrestling

I was debating whether or not to share mine then I said what the hell:

I was working for a guy named Rick Starr (no relation) in Philly I think he called it MEPW or MECW one of the two. We were doing a show shortly after ECW disbanded and while in PA and Jersey at the time those guys were popping up on every Indy they possibly could. We were booked for Camden, NJ I do believe at the YMCA across from the prison. This made me very uncomfortable. Sadly Tommy Dreamer could not make the show and it was canceled.

Now comes the fun stuff. The same ECW names were booked once again but this time at an undisclosed location in Camden a few weeks later. The location turned out to be the back of a record shop which used to be a mattress warehouse. We show up very early and see a fine citizen of Camden LIVING in the parking lot of the arena. And then I smelled burning crack for the first time in my life.

Set up the ring and all that good stuff a few of the neighborhood kids start assembling. The booker Rick Starr however did not have any money. Tommy showed up with informed of this and left. Meanie same story. Only "name" that was booked that stayed was Ref Jim Molineaux.

Needless to say the neighborhood kids were very disappointed to find out they were not able to see a wrestling show. They went to a local figure possibly one of their fathers I'm not quite sure who produced one of the largest wads of cash I've ever seen in my entire life. This fine gentleman paid the entire lockerroom to put on this show for maybe... 10 people.

Now we've all heard of a barbed wire on a pole match or occasionally razor wire being used... Never have a seen a ring where the razor wire from the ceiling of the building is perilously close to the wrestlers. A few times people attempted to go off the top rope and where very close to that razor wire hanging from the ceiling either to deter pigeons or criminals.

Since this "show" came together sort of last minute the booking was done on the fly... so while the wrestlers were in the "dressing room" aka the UHaul we brought the ring in they were figuring out who would come out next vs whom. So in the meantime since I was training a heel du jour would come out and give me some on the job training. I'm relatively sure I took every single bump possible that evening. I was also beaten down and put in a skirt... which makes a lot more sense if you knew the back story.

Oddly enough the matches weren't too horrible including my good friend Shaka taking a butt ass naked leg drop from O-Dogg and Kris Krude earning his first ever "World" title.

And in case anyone is wondering and don't really feel like traveling to a crack den. Crack smells somewhere in between hot dogs, feces and burning human flesh.

So there is my horror story forever dubbed "Mattress Mayhem"

eastman wrote:

I have a few, but I'll start with this one This was this past January in Princeton IL. It was a benefit show for

In Princeton, IL.? For who? Some kid running his first show or ... ? You're from Chicago?

Yes sir, I am from Chicago. I just moved back out to Nashua NH to stay with my folks for a few months. I've been managing and ring announcing for 5 years. I normally work for IWA Midsouth (Ian Rotten), AAW, Shimmer, and all of the NWA Midwest feds. I've also promoted Totally Tool Wrestling which is best known for Cabana in the Twinkie suit and Iron Sheik vs Larry Sweeney.

The show was for some kid who wanted to run a charity wrestling show. He had some exposure to the business working for a garbage fed in Chicago. Needless to say, it was very very bad

Interesting. I lived in Princeton, IL while training with Powerhouse Championship Wrestling in LaSalle, IL. totally at random and due to lack of knowledge of any other options.

Ahhhh Dr. Tim Lyle. I've never worked for them. I've only met the booker (Tobi Hope) once and that's it. Two of my best friends trained there, The Phoenix Twins. I'm not sure when you were there, but they started there in 2001 I think. I've seen some tapes of them running shows in a basement of a building or something like that. Small world

eastman wrote:

Cabana in the Twinkie suit

The cloths make t he man.

eastman wrote:

Ahhhh Dr. Tim Lyle. I've never worked for them. I've only met the booker (Tobi Hope) once and that's it. Two of my best friends trained there, The Phoenix Twins. I'm not sure when you were there, but they started there in 2001 I think. I've seen some tapes of them running shows in a basement of a building or something like that. Small world

That's right, that's right. Although I was trained by his cousin really. Brian. Tim's partner in their russian deal they had going for some time.

When I started training with them they were renting this old warehouse style building with half a roof or so. I started in July of 99' training inside under the sun with Brian.

I never wrestled in a basement with them but I think things went more downhill than not from what I heard after I left the area in late 2000, before your friends started there.

Let's just say downhill is not the word for it.

There are good and bad in every area, and I'm not going to shit can anyone on a message board. The Twins started there in 01 I think and then left about 8 months after to get retrained. I heard stories about the old wharehouse, but I've never seen it.

Rereading this thread makes me want to show up on Slamtech's door again.

To bring this thread back into the realm of fecal matter: (T.M.I Warning Attached!)

It's not a wrestling story and I am not involved in the biz (though I hope to be in the near future), but it does involve someone who is/was so it's slightly relevant to the topic...

Anyone who's followed NWH/NAWA the last couple years might know who he is, He wrestled under the name "Blackjack Wild," then he went down south for a while but got injured and came back up to Maine to finish an internship for college and I think he's working with NAWA again under a new gimmick (But I'm not revealing what gimmick I think he has, kayfabe and all, could be marks reading). I went to college with him, we were both trained as personal trainers by the same person, and we both worked at the same gym for the last couple years, but the work relationship isn't exactly friendly. "Cordial" is how I'd describe it

ANYWAY, off topic.

I'm about a mile and a half/two miles away from my dormitory and picking vegetables from a professor's garden (he offered all his students a chance to snag some because there was supposed to be a frost that night. I never turn up free food or fresh produce), and in the middle of lugging two stacked crates full of squash and tomatoes to my car, it hits me....

The wet fart...

It was followed by what I can only describe as having someone twisting a pipe wrench around my intestines while someone was pumping air and juice into them. When you have to keep your cheeks tight and waddle carrying about 30 pounds of produce stacked up to your forehead back to your car, it's hell. Especially so if you're wearing white undies and khaki slacks.

So I slam the veggies in the back, bruising and squishing some of them and waddle to the drivers seat and try to maneuver carefully down the incredibly bumpy driveway. My car bottomed out on one of the bumps and it made me bubble inside.

So I go down the rough mountain road and speed back towards campus. Every little jostle making me shriek "oh fuck" like a perpetually whiny girl. I'm less than 1/10th of a mile from my dorm building realizing "crap, I won't make it! first I have to find a parking spot then walk back to the dorm and then go up the stairs! fuck fuck fuck!"

So the nearest "safe place" I can let go is the workplace I share with this guy. I whip my car in, scratching up the side on the curb, and sling it into the parking space closest to the building. I shocked my boss a little bit, he was just entering the gym. I wrapped my hoodie around my back in case some leakage happened and shuffled inside, giving hurried hellos to people as I came in. Blackjack included.

I bolt for the bathroom and rush into the nearest stall and dropped trou and dropped chow (tried to think of a poop word that rhymed with "trou." Nothing else fits and it did resemble dog chow). Blackjack wanders in to do his business and I swear I hear him gag a bit, do his thing, and leave. It was indeed heinous.

So I finished up. The leak didn't go further than my undies, thankfully. I leave the bathroom, relieved, flushed in the face, and breathing like I just got laid. I look to see Blackjack and he gives a nod, refers to me by my last name like he always does, and he bites his lip and flares his nostrils just enough for me to almost crack up. It was like what I did in the bathroom was unholy and offended all of his senses, but he was trying his best to be cordial about it.

I don't know if he remembers it or if he even made that face intentionally, but I still get a chuckle thinking about it.

Im not a worker, but I am a fan who witnessed a horror show or two in my visits to the local indy shows. I recall a now defunct promotion which was known to have a show in Quincy, on occasion. I recall one night talking to a worker I had gotten to know, who advised me that he could not go out to eat with me and a few others after the show, as he had gotten paid with Entenman's stale pastry. That is almost as bad as getting paid with Kool Aid, right?


Pissed off Poppa

If you want to hear one hell of a horror story, just ask SWB about when he was under a Chaotic contract.

I enjoyed reading all the Skunk's stories. And to think I voted for him for mayor of Marlborough.

I just had a horrow story this past wekeend.

I'm walking out to the gimmick table before I leave to grab my merch. I have my gear bag in one hand and a sport coat in the other. All of a sudden I hear "Do you want to say that now", and I get punched right in the face by a fan. I drop my shit and I'm ready to throw down when 3 security guards grab me and throw me out of the building.

As I'm outside trying to explain to them that I was on the show and I just got punched by a fan as I was leaving, the tell me I'm full of shit and that I wasn't on the show. I finally get the booker on the phone and he comes out and explains to security that I was the guy in the ring before intermission.

The fan ended up getting away with punching me. I love wrestling

Oh man, thanks for bumping this thread.. Pure gold!!

eastman wrote:

I just had a horrow story this past wekeend. I'm walking out to the gimmick table before I leave to grab my merch. I have my gear bag in one hand and a sport coat in the other. All of a sudden I hear "Do you want to say that now", and I get punched right in the face by a fan. I drop my shit and I'm ready to throw down when 3 security guards grab me and throw me out of the building. As I'm outside trying to explain to them that I was on the show and I just got punched by a fan as I was leaving, the tell me I'm full of shit and that I wasn't on the show. I finally get the booker on the phone and he comes out and explains to security that I was the guy in the ring before intermission. The fan ended up getting away with punching me. I love wrestling

WTF?!?! Was that at AAW? Elite Pro?

And the idiot fan felt the need to punch you?

"It's still real to me, damnit!!"

At least you know you did your job well.

Eastman, I should have punched you in the face before I left!!!

Here's an exclusive picture of that faithful night that Joey's talking about!

Miss ya, pal!

B@S

I love it. Eastman has had it coming to him JK. But, yes. to see a fan who still gets into it that much, is awesome IMO. I mean, let's not all go around punching managers, wrestlers, refs, ring announcers, whatever, but let's bring wrestling back to when it was a "sport", not "sports entertainment"

Horror story turned goof story-

Place: Maine, in a very big community center/gym…don’t remember the god damn town. It was far away. I know because I drove the ring up.

Show: Louie Barboza’s first one

-Mr. Barboza booked his first show, and someone who’s name I won’t mention (although it rhymes with Tennessee) rented him the ring the EWA was using. I loaded the ring up early in the morning and headed up.

First thing that goes wrong; the ring BARELY fits through the door. Ron Jeremy could have fucked a virgin kitten and it wouldn’t have been a tighter fit than the ring through the door.

I find out that Dr. Tennessee and I are booked in a tag team title tournament. Rock on. Then I find out we’re slated to win the thing, and the finals are a 4 way tag team ladder match. Surprise, but I can handle it.

Showtime comes…and this place has tumbleweed blowing through it. I think the draw was literally about 11 people. I won’t harp on the lousy draw, as I’ve drawn some dead houses in my time as well…but it did add to the overall depression that was pervasively creeping it’s way across the locker room like a bubonic plague infected cabbage fart.

As the house was so small, I went into total entertainment mode…and decided to search the building for impromptu arts and crafts/costume making. What I came up with, the Ghost would best describe as “a dilly”. Imagine if you will the perplexed look on the faces of me and Dr. Bible Belt’s first round opponents (Arch Kincaid and Ken Phoenix) when I came out with a cotton mop head on my skull, tied in place with vinyl tape, sunglasses and yellow and black caution tape criss crossing my chest-all the while brushing my teeth. Not just on the way to the ring either…when I wasn’t in the ring, I would spend my time brushing my teeth (occasionally Dr. Elvis’s home state would brush them for me).

We advance, and then I find out that Mr. Barboza had no idea how to get the title belts hanging from the ceiling for the 4 way tag team ladder match. In a moment of nonsensical insight, LB decided to tape the belts to the ladder to be used instead of hanging them from the ceiling. After about 30 minutes of debate which involved 8 guys explaining 347 different reasons why this wouldn‘t work, we talked him into changing it into a “Ladder use legal” match and just award the winner of the match the belts afterwards.

I was still in entertainment mode. Seeing that there was no DQ in this match, I made another building search, this time to find the oddest collection of weapons imaginable. I found, among other items, several bags of plastic bottles set for recycling, a wheelbarrow and one of those big exercise balls you do sit ups on. I can recall precisely how all three of these items came into play.

1) Bag o’ bottles: Me and Cueball had something akin to a pillow fight with these…which I lost as soon as his bag burst open, covering the ring with plastic bottles. I remembered reading of a match Mick Foley had with Owen Hart where one of them got assaulted with a bag of popcorn and Foley making snow angels/popcorn angels in the resulting mess. I did the same in the bottles, which didn’t have the same effect but I found fun nonetheless. I then spent the next 2 minutes slipping and taking pratfalls on the bottles. The janitor was PISSED about that one.

2) Wheelbarrow: Somehow, I got Larry Huntley’s 270 lb ass into the wheelbarrow. With no particular goal in mind, I started running around the outside of the ring with him in the wheelbarrow-while I heard a hearty “Where the fuck are we going Mav?!?” from the confused Enforcer. As luck would have it, I encountered his partner-Sonny Roseli- lying outside the ring. In a moment of fortuitous comedic timing and dumb luck, I dumped Larry out of the Barrow and he conveniently landed in the 69 position with his partner.

3) Sit up ball: One of 2 planned spots I came up with; I had Handsome Johnny grab the ball and throw it in my face. I took a huge, overplayed bump-kind of like he had thrown an anvil into my face. As I was taking this bump, however, the ball ricocheted back into Handsome’s face-as planned-and he took a similar bump.

Dr. Nashville and I also debuted the camel clutch/iron claw double team submission hold that night.

Some of the boys were aghast. Jason Rumble, however…I thought he was going to piss himself laughing.

Mav

This is why the "business" must be so much fun AT THESE TYPE OF MOMENTS at least. Thanks so much to everyone for sharing. I'd love to be party to some of these "moments" without the shit that goes with running your own promotion. But, as the OLD saying goes, and its a DILLY... "You can't have your cookies, and eat them too" (Liberal substitution for cake, but I prefer cookies )

MAV wrote:

Horror story turned goof story- Place: Maine, in a very big community center/gym…don’t remember the god damn town. It was far away. I know because I drove the ring up. Show: Louie Barboza’s first one -Mr. Barboza booked his first show, and someone who’s name I won’t mention (although it rhymes with Tennessee) rented him the ring the EWA was using. I loaded the ring up early in the morning and headed up. First thing that goes wrong; the ring BARELY fits through the door. Ron Jeremy could have fucked a virgin kitten and it wouldn’t have been a tighter fit than the ring through the door. I find out that Dr. Tennessee and I are booked in a tag team title tournament. Rock on. Then I find out we’re slated to win the thing, and the finals are a 4 way tag team ladder match. Surprise, but I can handle it. Showtime comes…and this place has tumbleweed blowing through it. I think the draw was literally about 11 people. I won’t harp on the lousy draw, as I’ve drawn some dead houses in my time as well…but it did add to the overall depression that was pervasively creeping it’s way across the locker room like a bubonic plague infected cabbage fart. As the house was so small, I went into total entertainment mode…and decided to search the building for impromptu arts and crafts/costume making. What I came up with, the Ghost would best describe as “a dilly”. Imagine if you will the perplexed look on the faces of me and Dr. Bible Belt’s first round opponents (Arch Kincaid and Ken Phoenix) when I came out with a cotton mop head on my skull, tied in place with vinyl tape, sunglasses and yellow and black caution tape criss crossing my chest-all the while brushing my teeth. Not just on the way to the ring either…when I wasn’t in the ring, I would spend my time brushing my teeth (occasionally Dr. Elvis’s home state would brush them for me). We advance, and then I find out that Mr. Barboza had no idea how to get the title belts hanging from the ceiling for the 4 way tag team ladder match. In a moment of nonsensical insight, LB decided to tape the belts to the ladder to be used instead of hanging them from the ceiling. After about 30 minutes of debate which involved 8 guys explaining 347 different reasons why this wouldn‘t work, we talked him into changing it into a “Ladder use legal” match and just award the winner of the match the belts afterwards. I was still in entertainment mode. Seeing that there was no DQ in this match, I made another building search, this time to find the oddest collection of weapons imaginable. I found, among other items, several bags of plastic bottles set for recycling, a wheelbarrow and one of those big exercise balls you do sit ups on. I can recall precisely how all three of these items came into play. 1) Bag o’ bottles: Me and Cueball had something akin to a pillow fight with these…which I lost as soon as his bag burst open, covering the ring with plastic bottles. I remembered reading of a match Mick Foley had with Owen Hart where one of them got assaulted with a bag of popcorn and Foley making snow angels/popcorn angels in the resulting mess. I did the same in the bottles, which didn’t have the same effect but I found fun nonetheless. I then spent the next 2 minutes slipping and taking pratfalls on the bottles. The janitor was PISSED about that one. 2) Wheelbarrow: Somehow, I got Larry Huntley’s 270 lb ass into the wheelbarrow. With no particular goal in mind, I started running around the outside of the ring with him in the wheelbarrow-while I heard a hearty “Where the fuck are we going Mav?!?” from the confused Enforcer. As luck would have it, I encountered his partner-Sonny Roseli- lying outside the ring. In a moment of fortuitous comedic timing and dumb luck, I dumped Larry out of the Barrow and he conveniently landed in the 69 position with his partner. 3) Sit up ball: One of 2 planned spots I came up with; I had Handsome Johnny grab the ball and throw it in my face. I took a huge, overplayed bump-kind of like he had thrown an anvil into my face. As I was taking this bump, however, the ball ricocheted back into Handsome’s face-as planned-and he took a similar bump. Dr. Nashville and I also debuted the camel clutch/iron claw double team submission hold that night. Some of the boys were aghast. Jason Rumble, however…I thought he was going to piss himself laughing. Mav

This was indeed a spectacular night of Wrestling Action...I was 1 of the 11 in the crowd. I've asked LB several times since then for a copy of that show, as it was THAT special.

The venue was the old YMCA on State St in Augusta, Maine. A new state of the art YMCA was built a couple years ago in another part of the city. That building you speak of has since been half torn down and the remaining structure is going to be turned into something that is currently unknown to me.

You forgot to mention that the opening contest was an arm-drag/bar fest of epic proportions.

Also during the tag tourney finals, The Volunteer State rep took several moments to sit in the bleachers and partake in someones popcorn.

I could go on and on about this show, as it was a wicked fun night. However I have done that in the past in different threads on this board.

What a show that sounds right. And the pride of the Volunteer state eating popcorn in the bleachers, during his match? Sounds like something he would do..OH YEAHHHH

Oh man that sounds fucking awesome