Renegade Rumble

They say professional wrestling is about the moments.

I don't have a moment where I discovered pro wrestling, I've watched it as long as I can remember. Magazines from when I was just three years ago, only to look at the pictures, was the way to document the timeline. Survivor Series 1992, a used copy from Blockbuster, was the first commercial wrestling VHS tape I owned. Five-year-old Jim protested that Lex Luger's feet touched the floor first at the 1994 Royal Rumble, which would've made Bret Hart, my first favorite wrestler, the winner of the prestigious match up.

That same year, in an example of the innocence of childhood, my kindergarten, "what I want to be when I grow up" picture was a sloppily drawn blue Hasbro ring, complete with black turnbuckles, with two even sloppier stick figures drawn in the makeshift squared circle. I wanted to grow up to be a pro wrestler. The fact that I already had a major leg surgery, and would have more in the future, to help me be able to walk was irrelevant. Sure, I had to use a walker to get into the building, but I was going to be a wrestler, and I wasn't going to be the Dennis Stamp of dreamers (no disrespect to the late Mr. Stamp), I planned to be WWF champion, even if that meant taking the title from the previously mentioned Bret.

In middle school, my neighbors and I would script, preform, and record our own matches. We had different characters, outfits, and storylines. We were all around the same age, but this was serious stuff. Yes, we had to negotiate finishes to keep the peace between the middle school kids. Of course, after some of the neighborhood parents were nice enough to suffer through our one-hour display of pro wrestling prosperity, we had to watch the recorded VHS tape back immediately to see the results of a exhibition that we did legitimately put time into with idea that this kid project was important enough to justify all the details.  

Somewhere along the way, roughly when I was 14, I realized that maybe main eventing Wrestlemania wasn't in my future. There's something to be said about that too, sometimes believing in dreams is less about what age that you allow yourself to believe them, and more about finding ways to live the dream, regardless of age.

Still, I wanted to find a way to be involved in the sport. I had stumbled upon Pittsburgh's independent scene in the early-2000s. Norm Connors, the godfather of the indy circuit of the steel city, promoted events that had Shane Douglas, AJ Styles, Christopher Daniels, and others. Attending one of those shows on November 1, 2003, dubbed "November Pain" had a major impact on the direction I took. By the time I started college, I began working as a ringside photographer for some of the local groups. Quinn Magnum, a 30-year veteran that has worked as a behind-the-scenes organizer for most of that time, allowed me to contribute, and the following year, knowing that I was a Corporate Communications major, I was given the chance to become a play-by-play announcer at a time when DVDs were the standard media format.

Since that first event I called in June of 2009, I've had the privilege to be involved in the wrestling business for literally half of my life. After that rookie year as a photographer, the opportunity to be a commentator is something that I've always taken seriously, both out of respect for those that are risking their bodies in the ring, as well as the business itself.

I currently work for Ryse Wrestling, the Renegade Wrestling Alliance, and the West Virginia-based Victory Championship Wrestling. Regardless of if it's a current group, or one of the defunct leagues that I worked for years ago, I was proud that I always try to give my best. On the mic, the promotional materials that I work on for the events, or anything else with the product, I feel an obligation to be a worthwhile investment for each organization.

So, I had found my spot in the business, and was more than content with that. Granted, sometimes the wrestling industry will drive you absolutely insane, and sometimes I can understand why Jim Cornette is known for his famous temper, but the madness is a part of the fun. For the record, I'm like to point out that I've never attempted to climb through the drive-thru window at Dairy Queen.

A few years ago when Quinn, who has been a mentor for many over the years, took his booking talents to the previously mentioned RWA, a blue collar league in West Newton, Pennsylvania, he asked if I'd like to join the media team when schedules allowed. I started there in January of 2024 and those already involved with the media side were very gracious to allow me to be involved, especially when they didn't have to.

The voice of RWA since its inception, Mike "Doc" Daugherty, had recently been joined by Jason Gray a few months earlier. The devious Tony Kincaid, who is a color analyst for a handful of promotions in the area, was set to branch out as a manager at ringside, using his verbal skills to rile up the audience. It should be noted that the West Newton crowd was built brick-by-brick under the direction of promoter Derek Widziszewski, and his passion for professional wrestling is stitched into the fabric of the promotion. Stepping through the doors of the West Newton gym is almost like jumping into a time machine, as the fans whole-heartedly support the "good guys," while equally despising the villains. I've seen security have to keep the audience in order more than once.

RWA's relatively-new annual battle royal tradition, the Renegade Rumble, was designed, in an effort to set itself apart from the typical format, to include anyone in the building as eligible for the match. In the inaugural Renegade Rumble, dedicated cameraman, Matt Carlins from the indywrestling.us crew, unexpectedly had his number called. Carlins entered the squared circle, dodged a villain that went flying over the ropes before he got out of dodge himself, and has legitimately not been seen at a wrestling event since his impromptu in-ring debut.

The point being, anyone could be involved, opening the door for surprise entrants from the local scene that hadn't appeared for RWA before. Last June, RWA had an event that saw the culmination of a few of its longtime rivalries since the organization planned to take July off from its usual monthly schedule. After the final bell of the night, as I sat backstage drenched in sweat from wearing a suit for the previous three hours, I jokingly said to Quinn, "hey, am I in the Rumble?" Quinn commented that it was possible since there are thirty spots for the match. I didn't think much of it, especially with the extra month between events, but just two days before the Rumble, I was alerted that it was indeed possible that I could get called into the battle royal.

I've heard enough around the pro wrestling business to never believe it until it happens so I kept the potential in-ring involvement to myself. After I got to the building on that humid August day, I told referee George, who is one of the most traveled officials on the independent scene, "Hey George, if I'm in the Rumble, I need you to help me get down the ramp and up the steps." Considering that I'm usually sarcastic, George laughed it off. The eight scars that decorate my legs from various surgeries would keep me at the desk, right?

I told Quinn that if I hypothetically ended up in the Rumble, longtime veteran and owner of the previously mentioned Ryse Wrestling, Brandon K, who was a surprise entrant, would be my go-to for any involvement. Knowing that I could possibly end up inside the ropes on this unpredictable night, I traded my usually Johnny Cash-inspired black dress shirt for the classic Terry Funk t-shirt under my suit jacket. Terry had such a passion and dedication to the sport that if I had to chance to get called, I wanted to honor him in some small way.

The broadcast began and it was mostly business as usual, with Doc, Jason, and I calling the matches for the indywrestling.us live stream. During intermission, I finally took off the suit jacket since the venue had become a sauna. In the main event, the Renegade Rumble began and had its share of surprises, as along with Brandon making his return to RWA, the stellar Andrew Palace made his debut in the bout. At number 24, Tony Kincaid was selected, and despite his objections, Derek pitched the villainous manager into the squared circle, where he might finally get what he deserved for all of his dastardly actions with his usual stable.

The booming voice of ring announcer, Hank Hudson counted down, and at #25, I was officially announced for this battle royal. At first, I protested when I saw my name pop up on our monitor, but Kincaid, who found safety alongside one of his clients, dared me to enter this match. Obviously, if the commentator is going to do something in a match, it would only make sense for there to be a spot with another non-wrestler. I didn't plan on any arm drags and definitely not any drop kicks. As I assured Kincaid that I wasn't afraid of him and took my headset off to go to the ring, I still wasn't 100% sure how exactly this might go. Hypothetically speaking, I might've been given a general description of how I could potential handle this scenario if it happened, but I hadn't even practiced getting into the ring if my number was called. As I got through the curtain, referee George appeared out of nowhere to help me down the ramp and encouraged me to get to the ring, as I yelled some of the usual wrestling jargon in the direction of Kincaid. I found out later that George thought I was kidding when I mentioned this possible scenario earlier in the night so he was as surprised as anyone when he heard my name, which makes it all the more commendable that he got to the top of the ramp as fast as he did.

The second official, Jeff Jefferies helped me through the ropes, and as I felt the canvas beneath me, it was literally a surreal moment. I was officially a participant in an official pro wrestling match, a notion that I chalked up to childhood innocence years earlier as something that just wasn't realistic. Considering that mobility isn't known to be my strong suite, the villainous Kincaid, nor the audience expected me to answer the bell on this one. Stunned at this development of determined, albeit limited mobility, Kincaid backed into Brandon K and fellow fan favorite John Rodin, another surprise return for the bout. I was focused and pumped, but I sincerely wanted to make sure that the spot made sense and wasn't an insult to the business. I have too much respect for the industry for something that would be fun to take precedent over the concept of a spot that works for the presentation. Sure, this was a moment where I literally couldn't believe what was going on, but the priority was that it worked for the audience. I unintentionally threw some profanity toward Kincaid, which thankfully wasn't picked up by the ringside cameras.

After Kincaid backed into the good guys, he immediately took a powder over the ropes to escape them. But, I had a brief moment of confrontation, as the devious manager pleaded innocence. I took a minute to imply that I was going to be understanding by putting my hands up in a non-threatening fashion before I pushed the menacing manager off the apron to officially eliminate him from the contest. I was absolutely shocked that the crowd reacted, which says more about Tony's ability to be a heat magnet than anything to do with me. In a somewhat wholesome visual, Brandon and Rodin raised my hands as flashes from ringside photographers captured it. Quickly, I told my wrestling pals, no more, I took care of Kincaid and wanted to get back to the desk so in a fashion that would make Mil Mascaras proud, I voluntarily left the Rumble, informing Hank Hudson that I had to go back to the desk to call the rest of the event.

Truthfully, I can't recount the exact details of getting to the floor from the ring, other than Brandon and Robin were kind enough to help me, but I was so focused on getting out of the way that I don't recall who was holding the ropes for me. Thankfully, just as my dress shoes touched the gym floor, the next entrant, who was scheduled to go through the curtain exactly one minute after I got to the apron at the start, was announced. We hit our cue. As I tried to get back up the ramp as fast as I could to get back to the broadcast position, I was also surprised that the fans were nice enough to chant my name. I'm not a star, but it was very nice to know that the crowd enjoyed the spot. I got through the curtain completely exhausted, as despite being a total runtime of just 1 minute and 54 seconds, in all the commotion, I forgot the typical task to breathe. Still backstage, a very meaningful hug was exchanged and I said thank you. There wasn't time to get too sappy, though. I had to get back to my headset to finish the call for a bout that saw J-Rocc, a nearly 30-year pro, win the Rumble to get a title shot, an opportunity he later used to win the RWA Heavyweight championship late last year.

When I reflected on this in-ring debut earlier this year in recognition of 18 years since I started in the business this past March, I thought of the fact that not only have I had the chance to be involved in the pro wrestling industry half of my life, but taking into the scope of the situation, it's an example of how much pro wrestling helped me get through the hurdles of life. Obviously, the announcer eliminating the manager is a gimmick spot, it wasn't going to make or break the segment, but based on the reaction, it contributed to the overall presentation.

They say pro wrestling is about the moments. I'm not sure if my in-ring cameo was a moment for anyone else, but it was a memorable moment for me. The 2026 edition of the Renegade Rumble is this Saturday at the West Newton gym. Thankfully, I've been assured that I will only have to call the event from the desk this year.