Dec 27, 2023 23:35:11 GMT @ness said:

In my backyard days I think I did a great backdrop as I utilized it like that or more often as a counter to a powerbomb. And just between us (never tell my shoot brother) it was mostly because I always struggled to pull off a proper one. Once pedigreed a friend on his carpet UPSTAIRS in his room. Don't remember if the rents were home at his house at the time so cannot report back on hearing any "the fucks going on up there" side commentary from the kitchen.

Seriously some of the stuff kids do and it's a wonder the whole piledriver death incident wasn't more frequent. People loved the Mike Knox crossbody but man the gif thread just buries it now in terms of being cosmetic. And who doesn't love a bridging northern lights. Say what you will about Benoit, but we got one of those fuckers in a mania main event. Granted we can't ever see it again thanks to him...

And the plex... god dude seeing the semi struggle/potential botch cringe really is what I love about wrestling. Like the whole not perfect/choreographed, the grit of it, is why I loved wrestling. I do think the further we strayed from "old school" the less effective the juice was. But I guess that's what fueled mma.

Granted, there were a few kids seriously hurting each other doing wrestling moves on each other over the years, but it not being an epidemic is either a miracle or a monument to the durability of children. The amount of bumps I took in some kid's parent's den, one of those thin grey/blue carpets over concrete, just doing unprotected back bumps onto the floor, is actually insane for me to think about now. Sometimes there'd be a couch cushion on the floor, but often not. 

Your mention of the struggle of vertical suplexes has reminded me, I could never do one! Awkward lift, weird balance issues, didn't want to drop a friend on their head. Powerbombs were somehow easier. And safer. 

Thankfully I came of age during the golden age of suplex variations, T-Bones were easy work.

Championship belts back in the day:

6-8 inch leftover carpet strips

Weight lifting belt

Back in the 90's there were clocks that looked like giant gold wristwatches they were in the size of WWF belt, you could prop it up on your waist and fold the bands around your hips like the Flava Flav Champion

Most popular submissions growing up in my house:

1990-91 Figure Four
1992-1994 Sharpshooter
1994-95 Crossface Chickenwing
1999 dirty sock out of the laundry mandible claw

Feel like we had a Backyard Wrestling thread already. Couldn't find it though so I started a new one. Maybe the thread I'm thinking of was on Old PW? Also thought I had a lengthy draft saved in response to @ness "IN DIS BUSINESS" thread but it turned out to be not so lengthy and I never even got to my Backyard Wrestling days.

It took me a long time to pull off the vertical suplex but I eventually got there. You guys are right. You'd think there would have been way more injuries given the popularity of wrestling in the 80s & 90s coupled with practically every young wrestling fan trying moves out from time to time. I'm sure I was worse than most. Was still doing Benoit diving headbutts onto couches in the early 2000s.

Hell yeah Neo Zeed ! Aww man, did I ever cherish our homemade, cardboard OWL belt with the aluminum foil middle. Held that beaut for what felt like eternity. Have so many House Wrestling stories. Now I'm never going to finish up that 95-96 WWF TV match thread or those OVW match reviews. Oh well!

INJURY REPORT and Other Stories

We weren't as crazy as most. Big moves were usually done into the couch, bed, or a pile of pillows. But accidents still happened...

First one I remember happened around 1990 when I accidentally stomped on my brother's face. He got skittish about taking an Earthquake at the last millisecond and tried to move. It was too late. I was already coming down. Stomped on his face with only a thin layer of basement carpet protecting the back of his head from the cold, unforgiving hardness buried underneath. Only silver lining for him was my unshod state. I'm sure he cried, and I'm sure we both got in trouble for the offense of wrestling in the house.

Then around 92-93 I used him as my wrestling dummy in my parents bedroom. Now to this day I think the move I tested out on him that fateful night is killer. It was a Full Nelson Forward Roll. The pin was so tight he instantly submitted! He also left the room immediately and I could tell he was worried about getting hurt for real. So lethal was that Full Nelson Forward Roll, a simple pinning combination, mind you, that it caused an insta-tap. 

Fast forward to the House Wrestling heyday of 95-96. I was in a tag match teaming with Rick against Chuck and the eldest of the Three Brothers. Little Chuck had me in the sleeper. He was off the ground, on my back the way little guys do it to big guys. Rick, ever the clutz despite being fairly small himself, tried freeing me with a high knee to Chuck's back. Pretty basic spot, but Rick always went too hard. Chuck ended up shoving me forward to break his own fall. In a one in a million run of bad luck my head hit the corner of the opened door. I saw stars the way they do in cartoons. Something like 9 "Tatanka Slams" and a Pedigree from the Eldest Brother later, coupled with a fast count from the Youngest Brother officiating, and I was pinned for the very first time. I couldn't even be mad. I just wanted to lay down and nurse this throbbing headache. So that's what I did until Chuck's stupid crazy older sister came in to raise a ruckus as usual.

Next one is the most serious of all. My brother was going to do a flip bump into our couch. Another pretty basic spot. But our timing was all off. He assumed I was only going to tap him on the back and he'd do all the work. I assumed he wanted a good, hard shove to make it look more authentic. So what ended up happening was I basically inadvertently lawn darted him into the couch. Now even with the cushions he went in HARD. Can't remember if this was before or after the Rey Mysterio incident, but, yeah, it was kinda like that. I gulped and likely turned white as a ghost. This was BAD. He ended up being alright, but did admit to seeing stars just as I had, and we took it easy for a while after that.

Another time I chokeslammed my cousin on the basement floor. He misremembered this as getting Tiger Suplexed into the woodpile. This is nonsense. I wasn't good enough to be throwing Tiger Suplexes! And we never wrestled anywhere near the woodpile. But he was really pissed about merely getting Chokeslammed. And I'll take all the heat for this one. It was an intentional move done by me, a dick, because he was getting on my nerves for reasons I forget.

But he got his revenge a while later with the chairshot heard 'round the neighborhood. My parents had this metal folding stool in the basement and I wanted him to hit me with it. He gave me a Lance Storm love tap the first time. I was like "Come on, man. I said hit me, so HIT ME. Gimme everything you got." He did just that. I saw stars yet again. The stool was bent. My mom still has it. And still it is dented. No blame on my Cousin. He was only doing what I asked.

Since Neo Zeed mentioned submissions, lemme tell ya the Boston Crab was the most legit of them for the longest time. All other submissions were weak sauce that must bow down before the mighty Boston Crab. Then Adam's Camel Clutch came along to surpass it...

One of my big things during the mid 90s neighborhood wrestling boom was a stubborn refusal to submit. I flat out refused to quit. Wouldn't even submit to the lethal Crab no matter how much it hurt. I must have been insufferable during my wrestling 'career.'  I really was a real life version of one of my beloved 'annoying' heels. Anyway, lapsed fan Adam, who was one of the few neighborhood kids not to join in on the mid 90s wrestling bandwagon, comes over one day when I'm doing my "No one can make me quit! bwahahaha" schtick. He proposes the Camel Clutch. I instantly accept his challenge, having already survived this dated hold multiple times when applied by others. But this was different. Adam really wrenched that sucker in. Within seconds I'm trying to scream "I QUIT." I say "trying" because he was pulling so hard I COULDN'T SPEAK! I thought he was gonna break my back (and make me humble). Tapping out hadn't invented/known yet so I'm just DYING in this dude's Camel Clutch. I can't escape. I can't get him off me by submitting. I'm just stuck there in excruciating pain. I don't even remember how that torturous experience ended, but I became a whole lot more selective about my Submission Challenges after that.

Speaking of submissions, I've told the story before of how my school experienced a Chickenwing epidemic during the height of Backlundmania. The principal coming on the loud speaker to BAN THE CHICKENWING and vow instant detention or suspension (I forget which) to any student caught performing the lethal hold remains one of my fondest school memories. Matt The IRS Fan and I were marking out so hard it wasn't funny. The memorable part wasn't the punishment (which is literally forgettable) but just hearing our stolid old principal mention the Crossface Chickenwing over the intercom. It was hilarious.

Not really an injury, but a memorable moment. The Middle Brother, a Razor Ramon-loving lazy load who was my least favorite opponent, did something to upset the Youngest Brother during a match between the two. The Youngest Brother runs out of the room crying only to come flying back in with a vicious dog bowl attack, just going to town, a mix of screaming, crying, and shouting obscenities as he breaks the dog bowl over the Middle Brother’s noggin, maniacally hitting him again and again. I'll admit to being amused as I wasn't a big fan of the Middle Brother. He could be really annoying!

And finally my last injury came in 02 or 03* (at least 3 years after the heyday of House Wrestling) when I did some backyard wrestling whilst drinking at my buddy's vacation cabin in Western Maryland. Boo and I, who were SUPPOSED to go to wrestling school together, were having a pretty kickass match in front of an audience of 5 when he ducked my "Shades of Chuck Palumbo" Discus Punch to deliver an Uncle Slam as planned. I went up just fine. I'm sure it looked good too given Boo was somewhere between 6'3-6'5 (his answer varied) and I had drunk courage, but I made the cardinal mistake of failing to protect my head. Meaning my head landed at the same time as my back and I ONCE AGAIN saw stars like a cartoon character. Only other thing I remember about that night being real concerned with how my punches had looked  Apparently every time one of the others checked on me all I said was "How were my punches?" Forever old school. You gotta love it. Not gonna lie. 20 years later I am super proud of myself for having my priorities in order. 

*Upon further review it was definitely 2002. We had a rematch in 2003 at a different friend's Western Maryland vacation house. This time there was a lot of snow on the ground. And this time we changed the spot from "Discus Punch into Uncle Slam" to "Discus Punch into Side Effect." Then Boo did a Swanton off the deck into the snow. I moved in plenty of time as planned. It all came off flawlessly. No head bumps. No getting squished by 6'3-6'5 200 lb. Boo. This was probably the last match I ever had  

Have no fear, I've got stories for years.

Dec 28, 2023 1:28:22 GMT Neo Zeed said:

Most popular submissions growing up in my house:

1990-91 Figure Four
1992-1994 Sharpshooter
1994-95 Crossface Chickenwing
1999 dirty sock out of the laundry mandible claw

Late '90s, I was all about the Rings of Saturn. Not the flashiest, but could be done on an uncooperative opponent, and if someone was acting fresh, with minimal effort, you could lock it in a little tighter than necessary to teach a lesson. I was a big fan of the Fujiwara Armbar for the same reasons. 

Every time I locked in a Crossface Chickenwing, there'd be a little slobber on my wrist and forearm with it being across a chin and mouth, and I'd just be like, this is gross, I am not doing this move anymore. Let me grab a fucking arm instead. 

Pretty sure we were terrible at submissions. Either too weak or poor technique. 
=============
*While I wrestled a little before and a little after, everything in this post and the next pertains to my mid(-late) 90s 'backyard' wrestling heyday. 

Style

-Punches were worked to a comical degree. Most intentionally missed by a good 6 inches. I, and others who cared a little more, might gently graze an opponent on occasion. But it was a far cry from my 2002 punch obsession mentioned in a previous post.

-Flair Chops were legit. They were a real big thing in and out of 'the ring.' Taking Flair Chops was a rite of passage, a sign of manliness, in our neighborhood. You HAD to take at least one if your opponent went for it. The more you took, the more you got over. To puss out on a Flair Chop was just about the biggest heel move you could make. And, yes, even I wimped out on occasion. Flair/Steamboat & Flair/Garvin were the ideal.

-The Thesz Press was the 2nd biggest move in the neighborhood. It got over ironically. Think the Buddy Landel of wrestling moves. This was before Austin blew up.

-One of my favorite moves to take, if not my absolute favorite, was the double Russian Leg Sweep into a couch. I was forever getting swarmed from either side by my colleagues and never got tired of flopping backwards into couches. 

-Forearms got over big time when I was wrestling the Eldest Brother and we realized you could wallop your opponent with the inside of your forearms, the meaty part, as hard as you wanted with little to no ill effect. So that became a big thing. We called them "Vader Punches" or "Vader Attacks." And we would go at it for AGES. Y'know I really shouldn't get mad at real life forearm exchanges anymore. It's amazing how much modern wrestling stuff I hate that I actually did back in the day lol.
 
-Submissions were about 3/4 legit. At least that's how I applied them. But people rarely quit. Because I/we were either weak or had poor technique. Sometimes, with an uncooperative opponent, I would go for the kill with a fully powered 100% submission. This happened a lot with one opponent in particular. I'll be the first to admit I could be a jerk back then. But at least I never punched anybody for real...in an official match.

-Mat wrestling was also largely legit. Nowadays I realize I often went overboard with it. I HATED early 2000s Chris Hero matches because he'd go way too long with the pointless mat wrestling. Yet I was doing the exact same thing in neighborhood living rooms and basements a few years earlier. 

-We didn't straight up call spots, but with a good opponent you'd go with the flow and have a good match by our admittedly low standards. 

-I already mentioned couches and pillows are where most of the big moves landed. We also used pizza boxes as our "steel chairs." And boxes in general when we could find them. This was the Golden Age of Pizza what with 9 or more growing boys always hanging around so we always had boxes to use. The best was the time the Eldest Brother and I set up a Pizza Box "Table" with multiple boxes jerry rigged in such a manner. Remember that ending with one of us SAFELY Snow Plowing the other through. Only in those days we called a Snow Plow a "Power Driver." I had seen Kensuke Sasaki do it to someone. 

-I enjoyed selling. Over the top, melodramatic, selling where I'd continually kick out at 2.9. I'd give my opponents a lot, but I hated losing, and flat out refused to for the longest time. It took a near knockout that knocked me legit woozy before I finally laid down for someone. And while I was too sore to care at the time, it grated on me like you wouldn't b'lieve in the weeks and months to follow. So in addition to overly long forearm exchanges, and a love of pointless mat wrestling, I also had the attitude of 90s Shawn Michaels. Yikes. 90s me really was the worst. 

-There was ONE time before the near knockout when the Eldest Brother hit me with either a sweet move, or a sweet combination of moves, that I was actually going to lay down for him. Only the dummy didn't go for the cover! So by the time he did, either I was pissed off and kicked out, or I was so pissed at him for blowing his chance at victory that I went back on the offensive. You had ONE chance and you BLEW IT, buddy!

-We usually wrestled in houses- my basement, sometimes living room if the parents were out or sleeping. Chuck's living room when his parents and psycho sister were out. Original Baker's basement when his jerk of a mom was at work. The Three Brothers living room when their parents were out. Actual backyard wrestling was rare. And the one backyard incident that really sticks with me is the time we had what basically turned into a shoot Battle Royal in Chuck's backyard. I was the "Andre" everybody came at. They bent my back over the fence trying to get me out as I held on for dear life. And....I actually don't remember how that ended. Either I suffered a rare loss and sulked off home in a huff, or I shoot fought my way out of it, pissing everybody else off in the process. For the 3rd(?) time, I was a jerk who took this wrestling stuff way too seriously.

-Summertime we'd do moves in my pool. This was a lot of fun. Here you could do stuff that you couldn't do anywhere else. And credit to my brother for jumping off the (low) roof (into a pool) about a year before Mick Foley made roof diving famous.

Next Time: Scouting Report on my main opponents

My Evolution of "Wrestling"

Ages 4-7: Bed wrestler. I'm standing and jumping on (my single father's) bed, pillows are my opponent, and I'm beating the dogshit out of them. Pop had a brass headboard that I would use as the "top rope" to do, almost exclusively, Macho Man Elbow Drops. Over and over again. I might have spent hours a day just Macho Man elbow dropping a pillow. Thinking back, jumping off a brass headboard doing Macho Man Elbow Drops might have been the happiest I've ever been. Like for better or for worse, life just never got better than that for me. I've just found photographic evidence of 5-year-old me Macho Man-ing the stuffing out of a Ghostbusters pillow. 6 out 10 for my dad's photographic composition. 

SPOILER: Click to show

{Spoiler}

Should have gotten a lower angle, Dad, but perfect shutter timing

Ages 7-9: Too big for beds, so a lot of couch wrestling. I had a Hulk Hogan wrestling buddy by then, which took the bulk of my bumps. I had tied two boxing gloves on opposite ends of a wiffle ball bat so it resembled the joust from American Gladiators when I wanted to get proto-extreme.

Also have fond memories of raking leaves with an older friend (Big Mikey). We'd bag the leaves in gigantic black trash bags, set down a few on the ground to bump onto. I was probably jumping off the highest thing to, you guessed it, do Macho Man Elbow Drops. The fondest memory is Big Mikey suplexing a bag full of leaves off a lawn chair onto our bagged leaves mat just before I jumped off a deck rail to splash the same bag of leaves. Power and motherfucking Glory style. We did it a few times to get the timing just right. Maybe the only time in history someone pretended to be Paul Roma.

Aged 9/10: Finally found some wrestling fan peers. My wrestling watching, previously, was kind of a dark secret. Wrestling very quickly became uncool after kindergarten, so grades 1,2,3, I'm pretty much on my own. But 4th grade, I meet a kid named Gerard (wrestling fan), who has a friend name Sean (also a wrestling fan), which was the place to hang out. Sean's parents had a gigantic house and backyard. And they were never home. Sean had Royal Rumble 94 taped off PPV, so that was on a lot, and we'd be in the living room and adjacent den, just rasslin'. Practicing moves, trying to one up each other by jumping off things, classic fun. I remember one time in the snow, grappling with Gerard and I hit a shoot sidewalk slam right into a snowbank and it became a legendary moment in our crew. I gained the reputation, like a cold weather quarterback, once the temperature drops, and there's snow on the ground, nobody beating that kid. And that kid was me.

Ages 10/11: Not a lot of wrestling. This was 94/95, I'm not as into it anymore plus I had moved away and lost the Sean Wrestling Palace. I finally worked up the courage to do a back flip during this period, though, so I'd occasionally moonsault a pillow on my bed when home alone. It started Great Muta style, then eventually improved with more air. Although, never Kurt Angle level air. I was just a normal child, not an Olympic hero.

Ages 12-15: nWo/Steve Austin emerge, wrestling is good again, and all of a sudden kids in the hallways are wearing wrestling shirts. Wrestling has once again become an acceptable thing to watch. I become friends with a guy named Jimmy T, he became my nWo brother, for life. Jimmy T had a pretty nice house (although not quite Sean nice), so we hung out there. We'd just randomly do moves on each other, like it's hilarious to think about. Just standing in the living room, do an overexaggerated chokeslam neck grab and the other would take it. You'd be a dick not to. I loved taking a chokeslam. Such a fun bump to take.

Jimmy had a great bit. He would randomly grab a pillow off the couch, throw it onto the floor, and start "Bret Hart" attacking it. Which meant making the wide open mouth Bret Hart face, while punching/kicking/elbowing a pillow. Always made me laugh because it would come out of nowhere.

Around the time of "Nitro Parties" we'd go to other kid's houses for Monday Night Watch Parties. There was a kid name Tim, in particular, who had a finished basement, cable TV downstairs, basically all to himself. He was living the dream. There'd be maybe 8 of us there at a time. We'd place a very thin full mattress on the floor, like the type you rolled up and put under a bed for a guest, and that was the ring. It was behind a couch, the back of that couch used as the top rope for Irish Whipping and jumping off of.

We'd work matches against each other while flipping between Nitro/Raw (vividly remember watching the Warrior WCW debut there). And it was instructive because of the (small) audience, it really made you want to cooperate to get the room popping. Then you'd learn what made people pop. So I used to work against a big tall guy named Big Joe a lot, and I'd work a mostly junior style against him, and we'd be sitting there watching Nitro/Raw coming up with a basic big guy/small guy matches to have later in the night. Maybe steal a spot we just saw. Sometimes I'd work tag matches with Jimmy T against Joe and someone else (can picture his face, but can't remember his name, memories fade). There'd be very loose storylines that I can not remember a single specific about. 

My style was kinda a Sabu/Taz hybrid. I liked to fly and suplex (when I could) plus a shoot style submission game. Big Joe would bump his ass off getting T-bone  suplexed, the only one I could really pull off on him. Great guy! I used a DDT as a signature move (Raven) and I had a spot where I'd back body drop Big Joe "over the top rope" onto the couch, then I'd figure four leg lock him while hanging off the couch (Bret Hart ringpost style). I did a (not great) triple jump moonsault once (stepped onto a Rubbermaid storage box, onto the top of the back of the couch, then moonsault off), but I landed on my knees so hard on that thin mattress that I never did it again. I also loved doing RVD-style frog splashes (the midair change of direction), which was barely tolerable on that mattress. I would bump pretty much anything, but I HATED taking a pedigree on that fucking mattress because bumping totally flat like that essentially meant a face first bump (remember going nose first once, the immediate watery eyes from a nose blow) as I was not going to wimp out taking it lamely. Big Joe used the chokeslam as his finisher. We'd use a carboard box as a "table" which was actually a softer bump than the mattress. Great time!

By 1999, that crew pretty much separated (shout out to Sully, Matt, Tommy, along with the aforementioned Jimmy T, Big Joe and Tim, and two kids whose names I can't remember) and that was the end of my "wrestling" days. 
---
EDIT: Just remembered my finishing move that I eventually developed. It was basically an implant DDT, sort of like Gangrel, but I would grab the opponents outside leg to lift, like a Perfect Plex. Called it the Perfect Death Drop. Easy enough lift that I could do it to the bigger boys. 

Last one, probably.

Scouting Report

*My main opponents can safely be separated into two groups- the good and the bad. There were no average opponents. You were either good or you sucked.

The Good 

*I don't have a #1 favorite opponent. Consider it a 4 way tie for the top spot between...

Brother- Great opponent. One of my favorites. We had excellent chemistry. We did big vs. little matches. He'd fly. I'd catch and hit my power moves. He was our best athlete. One time he wanted to try a Frankensteiner. I figured we could pull off a 'Gene Ligon' style Frankensteiner. He was like "Nah. I can do a real one. Lemme try." I was still skeptical, but game. And bah gawd he pulled off a running frankensteiner in the grass on the side of our house. I did bend down just a teeny tiny bit to help, but that became a go to spot in our matches after that. I liked taking them. He was up for almost anything. 'Almost' only because he hated taking double underhook moves. No Butterfly Suplexes or Pearl River Plunges for him. 

Then there was that time he busted my lip and was obnoxiously gloating about it long after the match ended so I ended up giving him a thrashing with punch after punch to face and head. This was a major incident that got me nuclear heat with basically everybody and an embarrassing moment that I would regret in later years. Long story I'll have tell in full some other time. Led to a grounding during Christmas break '95, but my parents let Rick come over, and I borrowed IYH December from Chuck, so it was pretty much the best punishment a fella could have. Cousin might have been staying with us as well. And if not, he definitely let me borrow his magazine- THE magazine that got me into wrestling mags.

Eldest of the Three Brothers- Another great opponent. He wasn't the best athlete. Not terrible either. He was decent. But where he really excelled was as an effort guy. He was a hard tryer who was up for anything. Think of him as our Tommy Dreamer. The kind of guy who is an asset to any team...the kind of guy you want on YOUR team. He was all heart. He was my size and shared my Pro Wrestling Love. We had really good back and forth matches. I mentioned our Vader forearm exchanges and Pizza Box Snow Plows in my last post. And I was even going to let him pin me that one time! He had really weak bones though. Was always getting hurt in our pickup football games. But he was surprisingly durable in the ring. 

Original Baker- Similar to the Eldest Brother in that he was my size and willing to take stuff. Better athlete than the Eldest, but didn't have the Pro Wrestling Love. He was more of a casual wrestling fan who was only a borderline/short time member of our core clique. He was more into girls, (he was easily our biggest ladies man), baseball, and was almost on par with me when it came to EXOSQUAD~! fandom. He was very laid back and easy to get along with. He loved hitting the Smoking Gunns Sidewinder. You let him and a partner do that to you and he'd take any move you wanted to try.

His one big quirk was being one of the all time great standup philosophers (mid 90s neighborhood speak for "bullshit artist". "Aesop" was another term we used. Keep in mind this was decades before TV Tropes corrupted the term). Original Baker could spin a yarn like no other. And much of the fun came from letting him dig himself into a deeper and deeper hole. The "JT Marshall Beach Volleyball partner" story is an all timer. As is the "New Jersey beach house" story. Heck, even his "Baker" name was 100% pure unadulterated bullshit   That's why it stuck! What a character. Not gonna lie. I miss this guy.

STORYTIME: For like a week in Nov-Dec 95 we wrestled at OG Baker's house as "real wrestlers." It didn't really take. Too stifling. But for that brief time I wrestled as Goldust. Wore a gold sweatshirt, gold sweatpants, and would throw "gold dust" (little torn up scraps of paper) into the air. I had Goldie's theme from Survivor Series '95 recorded on a cassette tape. I'd use that as my entrance music and recite his promo on Bam Bam Bigelow when that part came on. I'd do all the Goldust mannerisms, the whole nine yards. Really got into  character.

Point is Nov-Dec 95 me was just out there obliviously acting all flamboyantly homosexual around the boys and it was just a thing everyone casually accepted. I'll admit it did get weird when Goldust "came out" a few weeks later during the Razor feud. Until then he was just an eccentric weirdo. Being an Actual Gay was a step too far. I mean you heard about them, and they were PROBABLY real, like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster, but you never actually saw one in the wild. Now I was taking A LOT of heat for being a Goldust fan. But I remained true to the Golden One. He was still my favorite wrestler until my next wrestling hero Vader finally supplanted him some time in '96.

Come to think of it I also had a Board of Education around this time. Man, it really doesn't get any better than this era. The best!

Chuck- The Patti to my Lana, the Stevie to my Raven, our lone Shawn Michaels fan was stylistically similar to my brother. He'd fly. I'd catch. Good matches ensued. THE greatest spot of my career came against Chuck. He did a 3/4 moonsault off his couch onto my shoulder. I didn't even try to catch him. He just perfectly landed there. Then I hit him with the mother of all Bulldog Powerslams. SAFELY! On the couch. For the 1-2-3. I ran around in a circle after catching and JUMPED to plant him on the aforementioned couch. It was all perfectly safe. And this whole sequence got a huge pop from the onlookers. It was a one in a million moment. We couldn't have planned it any better. Not in a million years.

Worth noting my brother, who wasn't a Chuck fan to begin with*, hated working with him. He told me this in the mid 2010s. It's entirely possible Chuck didn't have a choice to suck with me. He was light enough that I was going to hit my power moves even if he did try to sandbag. So maybe he just went with the flow for the sake of convenience? If so, it worked. Told ya, if you took my stuff, I'd take yours. It's all about that give and take, brother. 

*My brother, like the rest of them, hated the way Chuck would suck up to me. I loved it! Chuck was a such a good little lackey!

The Bad

Rick- My best friend and I had great chemistry outside "the ring." But we had terrible chemistry inside it. Despite being on the smaller side, he was a stiff and a sandbagger who didn't want to go up for anything and hit hard in annoying places. I hated working with him. And it's the weirdest thing! He was about as hardcore a fan as I was. We were constantly talking wrestling. It was our life. He was my USWA co-booker and fellow Lawlermaniac. But he was the pits as an opponent. We had negative chemistry.

Worth noting my brother loved working with him. He told me this in the mid 2010s. Nowadays I think Rick's lack of cooperation might have been him subtly rebelling against me just as I had once not-so-subtly rebelled against the previous King of the Neighborhood. That's the only thing I can think of to explain why this fellow wrestling fanatic would SUCK so much.

Middle of the Three Brothers- On par with Original Baker, Eldest, and I as the biggest in the group, if not THE biggest, the Razor Ramon-loving Middle Brother was a lazy load who wouldn't take anything. He was the ultimate sandbagger and softer than the pillows the rest of us took slams on. If a punch so much as gently grazed him he'd start throwing a hissy fit. I'd get so fed up with his chronic sandbagging and all around SAWFTness that I'd hook the lazy load in shoot submissions. He was useless and I was a jerk. Despite being a big fan who actually did play baseball at a high level, and soccer, Middle just wasn't cut out for wrestling. He'd have been better off playing Tiddlywinks.

Interesting to note as of a few years ago he was still a big time wrestling fan. He's been to a bunch of 'Manias. Has a ton of memorabilia. Still followed the modern product. Etc. So good for him. 

Cousin & Youngest of the Three Brothers were the youngest members of our group so it's not surprising they sucked. They'd wrestle in the Young Boys opener if Cousin was over. If not, it would be Middle vs. Youngest in the Young Boys opener. I didn't work with them often in 'official' matches because I didn't care to waste my time. But poor Cousin would stay with us for days at a time so I'd often practice moves on him whether he wanted to or not BECAUSE I WAS A JERK and he was my own personal wrestling dummy. Youngest Brother was big for his age, but just as SAWFT as his next oldest brother (who was downright huge for his age). 

5 year old Kilgore Macho Man elbow dropping a Ghostbusters pillow is a strong contender for coolest thing in PW history.

I don't have a lot to add, but when wrestling started to get more attention around 1997 - a handful of kids at school, now I was 13-14 at the time, started wrestling before school started and it was a literal backyard/ECW/hardcore mentality/ These retards were just killing each other for the amusement of the rest of us, throwing each other into buildings and bins and taking bumps directly onto the grass outside the school.

Fast-forward a few years, I saw a guy powerbomb on a kid during a real fight (it was more a bully asserting his dominance) and I swear we thought this kid Drew, he was never walking again. Straight up and over onto a concrete floor, and then the poor bastard laid there for probably 30 minutes until he felt he could get up.

I too don't have a storied childhood wrestling career. By the time I got into wrestling, around the same time as Kilgore (age 11-13), I was a loner; the time spent playing with neighbourhood kids had transitioned to evenings of homework, video games and enjoying a new fangled contraption called a personal computer.

However, I have one memory of backyard wrestling. I was not a wrestler, more like a backstage interviewer attacked by a malicious heel. I was playing at a school chess tournament of all things. One of my teammates decided, without any context, to pedigree me onto the concrete we were walking on. Don't worry, it sounds a lot worse than it is. Being the recipient, I didn't see how he executed the move, but it's safe to say he didn't commit. He did not want to drive his knees into concrete, and I was certainly not driven. I wasn't hurt by the unprovoked attack.

Another classic PW thread right here, the Kilgore elbow drop is epic we could be distant relatives looks like me at 5, even had a similar haircut but more Brian Boz Bosworth style I think, like in the Stone Cold movie. I wasn't jumping off of shit though, that's pretty hardcore for 5.

And Baker bringing the goods!

I still remember watching UFC 2 with my little brother and rolling jujitsu out in the yard, maybe 1995 10 and 8 years old trying to copy the armbars and chokes and stuff Gracie was doing on that tape. Early adopters. Years before that I posted here somewhere about a game I invented on the playground in school in 2nd grade, 1992, early 93 at the absolute latest. The game was two guys grappled standing up by the chain link fence, whoever could get their opponent's back to touch the fence won the match. We had tournaments with my friends kids were gathering around to watch until the teachers shut it all down! Like 8 months later was UFC 1!

Had a group of pro wrestling friends in 5th grade that were all obsessed with HBK and the Sweet Chin Music on each other all the time this around the time of Mania XII Iron Man.

Everybody in 8th grade in 1998 had to have at least tried a stunner on somebody right?

Pedigree stories all over the place. Why was everybody doing this very dangerous move? Guarantee you I wimped out and took them Kane style, or worse. I was no Kilgore.

Kilgore's Perfect Death Drop reminds me of a move I came up with called Ode To Perfection. You set up like a Perfectplex but drop the opponent forward so his knee hits the canvas. Then you twist it into a Figure Four. Pretty sure I never did this in real life. I'm not even sure it would work in real life. Probably thought it up after House Wrestling died out some time in the late 90s but I was still daydreaming about my future career in da business. System try this out in your next match.

Pedigree was great because it didn't take any actual strength and minimal assistance from the opponent. Unlike powerbomb or piledriver it was much harder to fuck up. Of course we all knew a Kane bumper. which if you're doing this ish on the carpet or in the yard on the grass... okay. But on a mattress or trampoline? Get the fook outta here.

I'm glad a trampoline has finally been mentioned. There was another crew in my neighborhood led by a dude named Jamie, they were trampoline wrestlers. We didn't like them. They didn't like us. Go ask your parents for a bouncy castle, was our thoughts about Jamie's choice of wrestling.

So we gonna do this? I'm down to do a director's cut update of my last major backyard look back. I can't stand to have my bounce n trouce brothers disrespected!!!

Do it! We need bounce and trounce representation, it was such a significant part of the time. 

I hindsight we were probably backyard wrestling when I was about 10 or 11. But it wasn't influenced by Pro. Wrestling at all.

We were into movies like Bloodsport and games like Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat and shows like The X-Men animated series.

We had a trampoline at my house, and over the summer break it became a crash pad for all sorts of shenanigans. We even dragged it over to the side of my Dad's shed to hit high spots. It was mostly just chops or flying punches off the shed roof, but one kid did a " froggy " (which was a name we had for a certain frog inspired jump into a pool) and ended up over shooting his opponent and bounced off onto the grass in spectacular fashion.

We leant heavily into multiverse kayfabe and spent half the time as a booking committee arguing whether Wolverine could be Ryu, etc before any matches took place. And you couldn't change powers mid match either.

I never did any backyard wrestling growing up, to be honest. My step siblings did have a trampoline, but my dad and his wife split before I got into wrestling, so me and step siblings never tried any wrestling moves on each other (plus my brother was only 2 or 3 at the time). By the time 1999 had rolled around, me and a cousin would do wrestling moves to a Pikachu doll my brother had, which would upset my brother. Luckily, he didn't develop any trauma from it, and just laughs about it now.😂

The closest I may have gotten to do any "backyard wrestling" was probably during recess at school. Me and friends that liked wrestling would want to use a jungle gym to imitate a cage match, or try and hit a high flying move off of it. Luckily, it never got too risky, to where anyone got hurt or we got detention from it. Maybe the teachers monitoring recess were more worried about the kids playing "Pokemon" (and not the video game or card game, but the kids yelling "Pikachu" or "Squirtle", like they were actually a Pokemon😂).

I remember the "Best of Backyard Wrestling" videos as well, that would get advertised in the back of an Apter mag or on a commercial on Comedy Central after 1 AM. I remember finding the videos entertaining, in it being a mixture of pro wrestling and the Jackass/CKY videos. I occasionally pop them in for a laugh or two.

If there is a PW backyard fed, I want to be the ringside doctor.

Those "Best of Backyard Wrestling" DVDs were some of the worst DVDs I ever wasted my money on.

It was a real early 2000s gimmick wasn't it? Random activity, no context or plot, just a clips.

They used to do the same thing with the car scene. Here's a burn-out, here's some drifting, here's some girl laying on a car, here's some spikey haired guy wishing he was at Woodstock 99...

I posted about my whole wrestling fandom career in fan fic a while back if anyone wants to check it out. Probably just gonna repeat some stories here. You always rough housed inside, but I didn't try it as a "sport" until those yes awful click bait backyard wrestling tapes came out. Props to Major GUNNS for doing the heavy lifting in selling those. Though in hindsight her being the focal point of a dvd on us marks doing crazy shit should've been a red flag that you weren't getting what you think you are. There was some good shit on there though. This is why I wish c was here because he'd have random facts (maybe not even true) about anything you type.

Started in the house until we got kicked out for making too much noise. This was late 90s/early 2000s so all anyone had to do was call us "gay" and that would've ended it. So if there's any archival footage of me using that sorta language in my promos, there's gotta be a statute of limitations on cancelling me. But yeah we did it at first in the grass, just trying out moves. Powerbombs never happened because grass hurts. If you saw the "piledriver" position it was either a safe Mick Foley one, or a powerbomb countered into a backdrop (was always one of my better moves because no one liked to bump). We learned that we shouldn't stand on those plastic lawn chairs. They shattered like a pane of glass in a death match.

I actually had to "ban" animal based offense for a while because I was a bitch and it hurt. Boston CRAB, LION Tamer, CAMEL Clutch... dude doing that in a shoot isn't fun. I always tapped like a bitch. My brother, the true babyface refused to tap and would just cry like a bitch until Dad did that Dad thing, telling our neighbor who is a senior in HS maybe stop putting working holds on my 6th grade son. Whos in the wrong Stu Hart stretching a fool or my brother refusing to tap. Course he also screamed when I gave him the people's elbow (while also slipping on the first hit of the ropes lmao) he's probably just not cut out for DIS BUSINESS.

New neighbor moved in, little kid. So here's the scenario... kid between 6-10 has a trampoline. We find our way on it sometimes with the kid's permission WHILE he's present. Play wrestle, it's whatever. I bumped like Perfect/HBK with Hogan for the kid, so we weasled our way into using the trampoline as a ring so long as it involved the kid. Eventually started sneaking on it when they weren't home and had our edgy fed of matches with each other.

I hate stories like this because every person in the IWC supposedly held real shows with audiences. Dude fuck off no you didn't. Frank watched it. ONCE as we he walked by. That's your "audience". Fuck outta here thinking you were part of OMEGA. Know why I was such a loser? I had a lot of HHHisms to me in 2001, except I had "cool" moves. Basically RVD who took himself seriously. PUKE. GAG. I was listening to the game recreationally at the time. I'm a trick ass mark. Used a .wav copy of his pre-game DUN NA NUUUH NUUUH theme as mine. imagine that for a second... GEEK DWEEB AND DORK. Why is it always white guys with no arms thinking they're hhh?

To call it a "roster" is a stretch, but there was at least 5 of us (6 if you count the kid and we don't since he made booking a nightmare, evidently children don't understand not going over) for a while. A lot of the early stuff was some combination of "LET ME DO THIS MOVE" + "YOU DON'T KICK OUT AT 1 THAT WAS MY FINISHER!!!" - like it was a weird mix of shoot/call it in the ring. Over time it just became exhibition. At some point every generation has their "Savage/Steamboat" and you just mimick it even if you've never seen it. It influences the business. So this was 2001, a lot of edgy promoing and numetal mixed with nothing but MOVEZ and that was our "fed".

The Parents started not liking it. Yeah can't imagine having a bond with middle/high schoolers hanging out with your little kid for his trampoline. After they banned us we of course snuck on a few times until we heard noise and ran like hell never to return (even though I lived next door). They moved so we got our own trampoline. Started resuming our fed sans kid (I owned the belt so we didn't lose it when we lost the ring).

Fully in control of use now but the catcher is now it's OUR parents not wanting kids hurt and were kinda banning it's use for sports entertainment. We could jump or whatever but no dropkicking fools off the edge. So we of course saved our matches for when they weren't home or busy. Ain't it convenient how they always just get home when you drop your brother on his head and he's in pain screaming? And they catch you standing there like Toru Yano. Every damn time.

As some people moved the "fed" just became matches between me and my brother. We brought "gimmicks" to our feud. Used the actual computer chair as a prop. Had a standard ladder we set up outside the trampoline to act as a turnbuckle. It doesn't work in execution. Turns out if you climb to the top rope (don't do this kids) and dive off like a splash, you actually just kick the ladder behind you get no momentum and just belly flop the blue border. It sucks. That edge is no joke. It is/was our RING APRON OF DOOM. Did you know applying a sharpshooter right on the edge can also knock your ass out of the ring? Dude I was always getting tossed over the top rope since I was willing to bump.

My brother, either because I was trying to hit the moves legit or because he's a MARK, always got put on the shelf. He broke his arm when I powerbombed him. I'm assuming he tried to block it rather than take the bump. Did it stop us from doing it? Nope, just became prime promo material. Cringe CZW level material bragging about breaking his arm unintentionally. He got me back with a moment though. NON SANCTIONED JUST REGULAR JUMPING. We were supposed to do 1-2-3 and then we'd try and match the bounce to go really high. Well I had my back to him at second jump and turned to him and got speared. I say that's payback. Couldn't ever repeat it.

You know what's impossible to teach? My brother responding to a ducked clothesline with anything other than the rockbottom setup. Not for nothing of any wrestling move, that one worked well in trampoline world. Anyone can take it and your extra height and bounce of the sell makes it look like the 5* frogsplash. And yes I ALWAYS sold the Stunner like the Rock because I'm a fucking PROFESSIONAL.

Over time we used cardboard boxes as our "tables". Even when they didn't break it looked good. The ladder can't hold on the actual trampoline so I mostly used it for tossing into it, superplex or bret style elbows. As a base it's fine but ain't nobody doing anything diving off it. Since we could jump on our own it WAS kinda pointless to bring it out. Especially when you gotta explain it when Mom comes home.

The actual moves themselves probably didn't look great but when you're IN THE MOMENT you'd never know. The privilege of not having tape to refer to. I used to "practice" moves on myself in my bed. Take a textbook and bam ddt a pillow on it. EXPOSED STEEL PLATE!!! I took the craft seriously unlike my injury prone brother. Real Ken Ryu situation.

It was only after we owned a trampoline ourselves that I started noticing those little kid trampoline nets. I thought instantly that's could be an amazing cage. Never got to try it in my career as it was coming to an end. Brother didn't wanna wrestle on the trampoline no more. Seemed he thought his time was better served having a social life and not that "[redacted] wrestling shit".

Why I liked bounce and trounce is it hurt a lot less and there was more variety of what you could do. Basically flippy shit vs. old school wrestling of early backyarding on the lawn. Maybe that's where we went wrong. The MOVEZ were more important than selling/the finish for us. This post ain't gonna make sense as I'm in the zone, but I keep forgetting to write up some thoughts.

Cliff Notes: My brother and I did wrestling moves on our neighbors using a money mark.

Also here's how much my backyard "career" meant to me, when I'd play No Mercy I'd CAW myself but I wasn't confident enough for shirtless so I'd have some Tommy Dreamer jobber WWF shirt. CAW mode and I made my backyard "character" - what a jabroni.

Jan 7, 2024 2:16:20 GMT @ness said:

The actual moves themselves probably didn't look great but when you're IN THE MOMENT you'd never know. The privilege of not having tape to refer to. I used to "practice" moves on myself in my bed. Take a textbook and bam ddt a pillow on it. EXPOSED STEEL PLATE!!! I took the craft seriously unlike my injury prone brother. Real Ken Ryu situation.

I used to do this all the time. Just totally random acts of violence on a pillow. Textbooks, often involved. I used to have a "finishing move" that I could only pull off on a pillow for two reasons:

1. Too much of a lift for me to do on most actual people

2. It would kill anyone if actually delivered

It was basically a gutwrench powerbomb that I drop into a neck breaking DDT. If done on a Sequential 1 Math textbook, instant death to the poor pillow. 

I had a sick elbow drop. But of course no one ever saw it. I used to step up onto the corner of my bed and spring off and drop a big Kairi Sane Elbow onto a pillow.

I broke at least 2 legs on that bed.

I was 18.

Massive fucking dweeb.

Yes sir I too have destroyed a bed frame being a dumb mark.

A few of us used to wrestle on my buddy's trampoline. We used aluminum baking sheets from the dollar store as weapons. Sounded great and you didn't feel a thing.

Every match ended with a Stone Cold Stunner or a Chokeslam. We also busted out a ladder a couple times for some Jeff Hardy moments.

We shot a few promos in my friend's basement and if those tapes ever surface my cred is shot. I had my main character that was Bill "The Thrill" Killson, and my catchphrase was "Welcome to the new Billennium." (my real name is Bill if you can't tell)

We also used to pull names from a wrestling name generator and come up with characters based on the name. I landed on the name "El Homo Loco" so I wore a Lucha mask and a pink wig and some feather boas I found at the dollar store. I cut a promo with a bunch of gay jokes in it, then we did a match. Instead of fighting I just laid on my stomach and stuck my ass in the air and yelled "pin me!" over and over. Cringey as hell now but back when we were 14-15 it was the funniest thing in the whole world. My friends were crying they were laughing so hard.

RT be like when you step into that ring be prepared for the rush of the Billenium Force daddy!

Also RT when his old promos resurface on Tiktok