Devon "Hannibal" Nicholson recently tagged me in a video where former Syracuse standout Mike Rotundo once had to use his amateur wrestling skills to defend himself in a match. I received a instant message from someone asking me if that had ever happened to me. Was there a time in my six years of pro wrestling where I had to use my amateur background to defend myself.
Technically, I would say this only happened once in my career, although I have a handful of stories where I used my amateur wrestling skills.
The first time I ever used my amateur wrestling on someone was during training. One of the guys we were training with was huge. About 6'2 and close to 300 lbs. One day I was wrestling around with another wrestler, when he started giving me crap about high school wrestling. Both in a playful mood, I told him that if I got on top of him and secured a half nelson I could turn him over to his back. He pfffed a big laugh at me and said no way. I went over to where I had put my keys and my wallet, took out $10 and said, "This $10 says that I can." He got $10 of his own and said back to me, "I'll take that bet."
He got down on all fours and I got on top of him. When someone else yelled go, I immediately threw in the legs and double underhooks as he rolled about trying to escape. I can remember him yelling, "Jesus, you're a F'n leach!" As he began to tire, I began to stretch him out cranking on his neck, slipping in the half nelson and snaking the head for leverage. It wasn't easy and it did take some time but he went over to his back. Wasn't the first time and it won't be the last time someone says to me, "you're deceptively strong." I became $10 richer that day.
The second time wasn't as friendly and it got broken up before it even started. There was a regular at MCW in the quad cities that was always bragging about how standout he had been as an amateur. I had never heard anything about him. I went home and researched him on the internet. I couldn't find anything connecting him to any high school anywhere in Iowa. I went back to a show wondering if maybe the gimmick name he went under wasn't his real name. When I asked what his real name was, I was told that they were one in the same. It made me wonder if maybe he had wrestled in Illinois instead of Iowa. When I went home and looked him up under Illinois wrestling, again I came up empty handed. Yet he continued to brag about how great of a amateur he had been.
When I finally found out the truth behind his story, I had to laugh. He HAD indeed achieved some highlights in amateur wrestling as a SUPER-PEEWEE. Back in first grade he had won a couple of big tournaments. Here was a grown man in his mid twenties bragging about something he had done when he was seven years old. I came up to him one day and told him that I'd like to have a real wrestling match with him. He said why not go right now? I can't say it was heated, because it wasn't. It was still a friendly exposition, but I don't know if anyone else in the locker room knew that. We felt one another out and I faked to the left, dropping down on his right leg. As I brought his leg into the air, Big Bob Pence grabbed both of us, ripped us apart and yelled for us to stop. I think he thought we were going at it in a fight. Pence was about 400 lbs, a three time Iowa high school state qualifier and he had wrestled collegiately at Augustana. Neither of us were going to do anything other than what he told us to do.
The third time was at a match in Illinois. I was wrestling a guy that would later become one of my best friends in the business. We were performing when suddenly he came after me for real. I took about three potatoes to the head when I realized that something was off. To this day I'm not 100% sure what happened. I don't know whether he was testing me, if he had some sort of PTSD moment or what. All I know is that he was swinging hailmakers and connecting hard enough to give me a headache. Without thinking I just reacted. I snapped him down in a front headlock and synched my right wrist right across his throat. As he gasped for air he went limp, reaching up and tapping for me to let go. I didn't let go but I eased up my pressure.
"You ready to work now?" I asked him, "We're gonna work now?"
"Yeah, Yeah," He answered.
The rest of the match went great. We came back to the locker room and he said to me, "Holy shit dude, for a short little shit, you sure are strong."
The final time was at a show in West Liberty. My opponent that night was a chopper. He loved to chop. I told him it was fine to chop me but chop me in my meaty areas. I workout my chest hard with bench press and all sorts of pectoral exercises. Chop me there. Chop me in my upper back. Do NOT chop me in the belly or the lower back. He agreed to follow these guidelines.
Yet once the match got going, he gave me a big open hand slap straight to the gut. I figured I'd let him get away with the one. Give him a warning and not have to worry about it again. I was wrong. As I lay on my stomach on the mat, he came up and delivered a huge chop right to the lower part of my back. It stung like Hell. Enough warnings. It was time for revenge.
When the opportunity came to get my heat, I sunk in a bo and arrow nice and easy. Then little by little I began to tighten up the move. I heard him say to the referee, "tell him to ease up a little, it's getting tight." When he said that I wrenched really hard stretching him.
"Ah!!!" He screamed, "Ah!!!"
He wasn't selling, the screams were real.
We finished the match and when we went back into the locker room he said to me, "What the Hell did you put me in? That freaking hurt dude!" I told him it was a move I learned in high school wrestling. We agreed that he'd never chop my lower back or belly again if I agreed to never put him in that move again. We wrestled twice more after that. His chops weren't near as hard and they were to the UPPER back and chest.
