This Is How You Pay Dues, Kid

 “If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don't even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery--isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you'll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that.”
― Charles Bukowski, Factotum

During the fall and winter of 2000, I lived in a dilapidated house in McKeesport, PA with no running water.  No running water meant that I had nowhere to shower.  Nowhere to go to the bathroom.

    When veteran wrestlers talk about "paying dues", most of them have no idea what they are talking about.  "Paying dues" is another way to say "sacrifice".  Going through training isn't necessarily paying dues.  Being a rookie and getting ribbed by the vets isn't necessarily paying dues.  Jerking the curtain and losing every match isn't paying dues.  Paying dues is going to places and doing things that you might not want to do, but you do so anyway because an opportunity to reach your goals may present itself.  I paid dues by moving to Pittsburgh for a chance to wrestle and train on a regular basis.

    Pittsburgh is not a place I would pick to reside for any other reason.  I moved into a house that was owned by the promoter that I was working for, Jim Miller.  Miller had owned the house for a number of years, but in the few years prior had trouble keeping tenants.  Well, at least tenants that paid rent.  If it was not for Miller essentially paying me $400 a month to live in the rundown Pittsburgh suburb of McKeesport, I surely would have left the Steel City in search of greener pastures.

    I am not naive enough to think that Miller was cutting me some kind of special deal because he knew I was going to be a star that was going to make a lot of money; the guy needed to make payments on that property.  The idea behind my tenancy was that I would maintain and upkeep the house, and get two or three roommates to eventually move in and they would kick in actual rent payments.  The benefit to me was that I could stay in an area where I was starting to pick up bookings, and have an easier time paying my bills. Ironically, at the time I wasn't even wrestling regularly for Miller's promotion.

    Miller had started his company in 1994, when his neighbor approached him about setting up a wrestling ring in the backroom of his candy and sports memorabilia business that he was running out of a virtually abandoned shopping center in an eastern suburb of Pittsburgh.  This neighbor was a young up-and-coming wrestler by the name of "Shocker" Sean Evans, who was doing everything he could to get more ring time himself.  At that time, his family lived in the house that I would eventually move into in 2000. Eventually Miller's promotion was successful enough that he converted his candy shop completely into an arena, and hired some local veteran wrestlers to run a training school there - the Pittsburgh Wrestling Academy.  By 1999 Miller's "Pro Wrestling Express" was a member of the National Wrestling Alliance, running weekly events at the dirt mall, producing local television, and the only reputable independent organization in the area.  Coincidentally, right after I relocated to Pittsburgh after graduation in the fall of 2000, Miller lost his lease at the dirt mall, had two other venues fall through, and had most of his wrestlers defect to an upstart promotion running that was able to secure a regular venue.  Then Miller had a somewhat serious auto accident, and for awhile his promotion was not running any wrestling events.

    I was not getting booked anywhere on a consistent basis, and I assure you that I was not making any money wrestling.  I had to have money, so started l started looking for any kind of crappy day job; A regular "nine-to-five" that I could work around my wrestling commitments.  I started working at a credit bureau, where I was processing credit reports for mortgage loans, and it was every bit as exciting as it sounds.  However, the job fit into my schedule well enough since it wasn't something that conflicted with wrestling, and it I could easily walk away from it if an opportunity presented itself.

    Sadly, the only opportunities that were presenting themselves were small time wrestling cards in the Pittsburgh area and down in West Virginia.  I was trying to get as many bookings as I could, but I was only picking up one or two bookings a month, and those bookings were not very big in the payoff department.  I still had a place to live though. I had enough stability that I was able to develop a routine and really focus on getting my body prepared for the pounding wrestling would give it. 

    I was stopping by the grocery store every day after work and buying a three pound bag of frozen chicken.  Everyday.  I had to develop this routine because I didn't have a refrigerator, and I could only keep food on hand that would not spoil if left overnight in a cooler.  I would cook all of the chicken every morning before work, along with a cup of rice, and that would be my food for the day.  I was also hitting the gym like a fiend.  I knew I needed to put on some size to have a more credible look, and I was convinced that I could become a heavyweight by hitting the gym twice a day.  I would get up early in the morning - around 5am - to fix my food and to pack my gym bag with my work clothes.  I would then hit the gym early and put in about an hour of cardio, before showering, shaving, and then heading off to work.  After work, I was hitting the gym again. After a few hours of pounding the weights, I would hit the shower again, before heading to the grocery store and starting  the routine over.
  
    Keeping this gym routine was made easier because the gym had running water.  The house I was renting from Miller did not.  You see, when I moved into Miller's flophouse, I discovered that the previous tenant had run up a water bill that was well over $1000, so the county shut off service.  Usually an individual in this situation would be able to set-up a new account in their name, and water service would be turned on within a few days.  However in this situation, the prior tenant had never set-up an account of any kind, and the past due amount had actually been billed to the property owner - which was a phony business that Miller used as a front.  So, the water was off until either myself or Miller paid the bill. With my financial situation, I didn't have over $1000 to hand over to the water works, so I had to do without water until I saved up enough money to pay the debt.  If anyone is asking why Miller didn't pay it... you obviously do not know Jim Miller.

        The house itself would best be described as a shithole.  The carpet was orange-red, and was covered in stains of unknown origin.  The walls were full of holes. Water spots dotted the ceilings both upstairs and down - which meant that the roof leaked and that the pipes did as well.  The previous tenant had left most of their stuff there, so after tossing all of his crap in a spare bedroom for storage, I started slowly fixing up parts of the house so they were habitable. For awhile I confined all my activities to one upstairs bedroom that I was able to clean thoroughly enough to not feel like I was in a crackhouse.

    When you do not have running water in a house, you do not have any way to flush a toilet.  You cannot flush it without filling the tank with water first.  My solution to this problem was a two gallon plastic red bucket, and stocking up on gallon jugs of water and bleach.  And plenty of disinfectant spray. If I had to urinate while I was at home, I would just pee into the bathtub, and then pour some bleach and water down the drain to wash it all away.  It was a totally different story however if I had to take a dump.  I would line my bucket with a plastic bag, squat down over it, and do my business directly into the bucket.  Afterwards I would tie the bag up, and take it outside to the dumpster.  I took a lot of Marine baths with a washcloth and water from a jug. The only place I could shower was the gym.

    I was eating out of a cooler, shitting in a bucket, and working a menial job in a city that I hated, all so that I could be closer to where I was able to get bookings.  That is paying dues.

    By the time summer rolled around I had the water back on again, and I was finally able to shower at home.  I had been able to increase the amount of bookings I was getting down in West Virginia, which allowed me to be more social with some of the other young guys struggling to get a break in the business in that area.  Finally in May of 2001, Miller was able to secure an old warehouse in McKeesport, which with some minimal renovation was to become the "Sportatorium".  While Miller was attempting various improvements to get the building in shape for holding matches, I was able to get a key to the building.  I was able to get the ring set-up for working out and training.  For the next few years, I was within walking distance of a wrestling ring that I had access to any time that I wanted.

    I was 23 years old, I was paying my rent from wrestling, I was able to train anytime I wanted, and I had running water.

    I had never been happier at any point in my life.

Professional vs. Hobbyist

    I got hooked on professional wrestling when I was a kid.  I'm not sure when exactly it was, but I remember I was watching Saturday Night World Championship Wrestling on WTBS, and I saw Tully Blanchard squash some preliminary guy, then walk over to David Crockett and Tony Schivone at ringside to talk shit about something.  I immediately wanted to see more. Somewhere along the line I decided that I wanted to be a professional wrestler.  Sure, I also wanted to play catcher for the Cincinnati Reds, or perhaps  get bit by a radioactive spider and gain superpowers.  Hey, I was a kid.

    I was fortunate that Cincinnati seemed to get a wider variety of wrestling programming than many places.  I was able to watch the Four Horsemen try to run Dusty Rhodes and Magnum TA out of town, Randy Savage destroy the throat of Ricky Steamboat, and Col. DeBeers piledrive Jimmy Snuka on the concrete.  I spent many a youthful Saturday flipping back and forth between the different wrestling shows, and the different baseball games on television.  Saturday morning was for watching superhero cartoons, but the afternoons were for watching sports.

    At some point I got away from wrestling; I just didn't follow it as much as I did when I was a kid.  It probably coincided with the different wrestling programs vanishing (as the territories went out of business), and the most accessible stuff being the World Wrestling Federation's product.  I was a big fan of guys like Arn Anderson, so I wasn't as keen about watching guys like Doink.

    When I got to college, I discovered the wondrous world of independent wrestling, due to a local Columbus promotion having some semblance of a television show on public access. It was bush-league, but entertaining enough, and it made me start watching wrestling regularly again - WCW Monday Nitro!  Monday Night Wars!  Then I discovered ECW, and it really reminded me a lot of what I used to watch when I was a kid.  So, once again I was hooked.

    Eventually I made my way down to the local Columbus promotion, the IWA, and after checking out a few shows live, I decided I really wanted to try it myself.  I hung out after a few shows and talked to some guys, and even ran into a couple guys on campus.  Before I knew it, I was in the ring - not knowing a damn thing about what the hell was going on - but working matches.  I was looking for training and an opportunity to work anytime I got the chance.  I wanted to be a wrestler, and here I was in college, where I am supposed to be preparing for what I want to do with the rest of my life.  Yet I am out busting my ass to be a professional wrestler.

    When I was breaking into the business, the prominent thought in my mind was not about getting paid.  Maybe I wanted to be a star, or a main event guy - who gets into wrestling and doesn't fantasize about headlining a Wrestlemania or Starrcade?  Who doesn't think about wrestling in the main event down at the building you used to watch your heroes wrestle?

    It might sound dumb, but when I was breaking into the business, there were three companies out there doing good business, just in the United States.  It was the midst of the wrestling boom, and all of the promotions were heavily going after new talent to fill out all the television time they had.  I never really had a strict desire to work for one particular company over another, because at that point I knew guys getting dark matches and tryouts with the big boys.  I just focused on learning my craft, and getting better, waiting for my time to come, and someone would give me a chance to prove myself.

    Many of those opportunities dried up when WCW and ECW went out of business, which left the WWE as the only game left in town.  I came to a realization at which a lot of other guys never would; The guys that used to have good paying jobs with the major promotions were going to turn up in the independent promotions, and swallow up all the good paydays.  This helped me set a clear goal for myself as a professional: Make a living from wrestling.

    I never wanted to treat the business as a hobby.  I left behind my friends and family and moved two states away to pursue wrestling, not to play wrestler.  I always realized that there is a limited amount of time to pursue any athletic endeavor, because everyone will get old and be betrayed by their body at some point.  I never wanted to grow old and regret not taking the shot at wrestling when I was young.  I made up my mind that I would work whatever jobs that paid the bills, while I would put all of my effort into making a living wrestling.  Wrestling came first - before family, friends, or money.

    Straight out of wrestling school, no wrestler is able to demand enough money to live off of.  At some point you have to "pay your dues".  Paying those dues means sacrifice.  I was always willing to make those sacrifices to be a professional wrestler, while others turned away and decided that rather than make a sacrifice, they would just do it for fun - a hobby.  I saw paying my dues as an investment of my time and youth into a future goal.

    I also figured out pretty quickly that there were hundreds and hundreds of talented wrestlers out there, and that every single one of them thought that they were going to be headlining Wrestlemania.  There were plenty of wrestlers out there now that could draw money or have great matches on television, but they are not what the WWE is looking for. Unfortunately, there are also not very many other places out there worth a damn to build an exciting and viable product to showcase these guys. So again, a lot of guys have to make a choice: work their ass off to become a very good wrestler, work their ass off to get signed by the WWE, or treat it like a hobby.  Or quit wrestling.

    Being a good wrestler, and being a WWE prospect are not necessarily the same thing.  The things that will get a wrestler booked on the independent circuit are not the same things that the WWE is looking for.  The WWE is looking for someone with a marketable look, with a raw skill set that they can develop.  A vast majority of the time, the WWE process is more of a casting call than it is signing the top wrestling talent.  For every Daniel Bryan there is a Miz.  For every CM Punk there is a Mason Ryan. There is no "amateur draft", where the top prospects and most highly skilled wrestlers are recruited into the WWE with a pile of money available after years of hard work honing your skills.  The WWE doesn't necessarily pick the best talent; they pick the individuals that they think they can market the best.  .

    From the start I tried to get as much ring time as possible, so that I could sharpen and polish my in-ring skills.  I tried to work on my skills as a wrestler and storyteller (and after some time, as a matchmaker and a  promoter as well). I knew that with my body type and skill set, if I ever wanted to support myself from wrestling, I had to make myself a commodity that promoters would be willing to pay top dollar for.

    Getting paid on the indy circuit is mostly about respect and covering expenses. In a lot of ways, the paydays that are being handed out at most promotions are not enough to change your status in life, at least not without having a lot more of those types of bookings.  A lot more.  When you first start out, there are tons of expenses that you have to just eat as an initial investment in your profession.  You have to just have to chalk it up to paying your dues while you learn the craft. You have to pay someone to train you, you have to buy ring gear, you have to have dependable transportation, money for traveling expenses, and more.  When you get out of wrestling school, no promoter is going to give you any money right off the bat, because you haven't earned it.  Wrestling isn't the NBA or the NFL where you get paid for your talent or potential - in wrestling you make money by proving that you are a draw.  Since no one is really a draw, you must turn yourself into a commodity that promoters  feel that they should pay good money to feature on their cards.  A commodity that ticket buying fans will pay to see.

    My goal was always to fill my schedule up and to find as many consistent bookings where I received a regular payoff, that way I could use those dates and payoffs as a negotiating point.  I tried to use my schedule as leverage against promoters.  When you start filling up your schedule and you have promoters wanting to book you, the bargaining position is better when it comes to negotiating a price.  When a promoter wanted to book me and my calender was full for two or three months out, I have leverage when it comes to my asking price, and for what the promoter wants to do with me.  It also allows me to go back to promoters I am already working with and negotiate for more money    .

    When you can get a promoter three hours away to pay you $50 a pop twice a month, the local guy that wants to give you $5 and a hotdog has to step his game up to keep you around. Once you have promoters contacting you to do business with them, you are able to negotiate paydays, to be treated with respect. When someone promises you $50, gives you $5 and says that if you don't like it you don't have to work there, that is disrespect for the time and effort you put in to your craft.  Let promoters treat the hobbyists like that.

    I made a lot of choices in my career, some good, others bad.  But they were all choices that were what I thought were best for me professionally, rather than as a hobbyist.  Sometimes I had to drive three hours to wrestle a match and break even on expenses, just to show the local promoter that is underpaying me that I had the ability to replace his bookings.  Sometimes this led to better paydays, sometimes this led to an eventual parting of the ways. But at no point in my career did I say "screw this, I am not wrestling for anyone that doesn't pay me like I am a star."  That would result in me losing the ability to practice my craft. A craft that I sacrificed family, friends, and money for.  Despite the fact that I was doing everything I could to make a living off of wrestling, why would I ever do that?

    And that is why the question about why I wrestled to begin with is important.  I didn't dream of drawing big houses and making good payoffs from promoters when I was a kid sitting on the couch watching Arn Anderson spinebuster fools.  Just like when I dreamed of being a baseball player, I never dreamed of being a ballplayer so that I could get a fat million dollar contract.  I wanted to grow up and play a game. When I got into wrestling, I realized that I was doing something that I had always dreamed of, and I wanted to do whatever I could to perpetuate that dream.  At some point though, you have to look at things as an adult and be able to walk the fine line between destroying your own body for pennies, and not doing what you have always dreamed of doing.  That is the difference between being a professional wrestler, and a hobbyist.

    They say that if you are good at something, that you should never do it for free.  This is true.  But unless you have evidence that you are good at something, why would anyone ever pay for you to do what you are good at?