XPW History
Back in the middle of February 2000 me and Jake White decided to put on a couple matches in his backyard, cuz we were bored. We loved it. We started making plans for our own backyard fed. Along with Ben Sherman we came up with a fed name and the championship names one night. Then, on Feb. 29, only one week after the first match, XPW's first show was taped and history was made.

In that first show everything sucked. The camera work sucked. The wrestling sucked. The music sucked. But we loved it. It was a great accomplishment for all of us. I must have seen that show 30 times by now, and it gets worse every time I watch it.

The first show tore up Jake's grass, so we relocated to Slayton Field for the next 2 shows. The first was powered by an extension cord running into some kid's house, and whoever it was, I appreciate it. We weren't so lucky at the next one. He wasn't home, so we had no power. I took matters into my own hands and plugged our extension into an outlet on someone's garage, so show 3 is famous for being run completely on stolen power.

We were payed a visit by the police at show 3, so it was decided to be most safe to relocate again, this time to Sherman's house. (On a side note, I'd like to say that we were never sure of our card until the day of the show, cuz people would no-show, and others would just be unreliable.) There were 7 shows at Sherman's house, highlighted by random rain, April snow, and King of the Ring, our only "pay-per-view" ever.

These shows were tough times behind the scenes at XPW. People didn't like each other, other's thought that "higher powers" were unfair, causing tension in the fed. So many changes were made off camera, some people left, one was added, and there it was, almost everyone was on the same page.

The Sherman's decided we weren't aloud to wrestle on their property anymore, so after show 10 it was off to Cheech's house. This is what I believe to be the turning point from the first style of XPW to the next. People were trying new things and getting over fears. But after only 2 shows at the Guissarri residence we were booted away by his parents. Next stop: the Mora's.

Gabe's was definitely the best ground-based venue. The entrance-way was perfect, and for the first time we had ropes. This greatly improved the speed and flow of matches. Most of the table spots happened at Gabes's, but many consider these 11 shows the "lost-shows." Why? Because there were so many that after seeing all them they become one big massive show in your head. The camera never moved from the back left corner of the backyard, so every show is uniform.

One other thing that was done during this time was the importing of the out-of-towner. Helwig talked to this guy, who liked to call himself Monster Mike, on the internet to get some info. It was decided he could be an asset so he was invited to show 21, the Royal Rumble. Big mistake. He felt a little too "at home" around us, and would touch people at inappropriate times and put people into moves against their will off camera. He lasted 2 weeks before he got the boot. Valuable lesson we learned.

So what drove us off the Mora property? WHO KNOWS. He claimed he was moving, but now, 8 months after the fact, he's living there still. But we went on to bigger and better things. A meeting was held after the last Mora show, and it was decided that everyone would chip in to buy supplies and make ourselves a ring.

The transporting of supplies was a fiasco itself. All the supplies were spilled onto a highway, and again on a busy street almost destroying a car, and in the process Jake was almost killed... but it was worth it (LOL). We got all the posts put in the ground after a few days' work, and then my uncle stepped in. He told us basically that we fucked up, fixed it as best he could, and for the most part built the entire ring in 2 days. God bless him.

So the rest was up to us. We bought carpet padding, tarps, painters tarp, and hoses. The ring was set up and the crowning moment was September 10th, but tension was building. While those who helped build the ring were pissed at those who did not, a few believed they should be rewarded because they felt they did the most work on the ring. I'll be honest, I wasn't one of those people, but I also did not do the most work on it. A couple that thought they did actually didn't, cuz they were busy attending to other matters on a few of those long nights. But the one person who did the most work on the ring from day one was James. He was there every time the ring was being worked on, when others were being lazy, when some were at football. Thanks Manny.

The first few shows at my house in the ring didn't go as well as we expected them to go, so we were quite disappointed, or at least I was. Then something major happened. Jake, one of the co-founders, quit. We were shocked. It was a reality check, everything wasn't fine and dandy with the new ring. People got their shit together, and the shows started getting better. There seemed to be a new-found enthusiasm among the group. Some woman came to us proposing that we put our shows on public access television, but after searching for info we found it wasn't the best idea.

Everything seemed perfect, we were having a great time. Then the ultimate blow. One day I was in my car about to pull out of my driveway when a white Cherokee pulls in. The ignorant fuckers pull straight into my yard. I get out and some asshole was like "is this yours?" Now I'm thinking "no, dicknose, it's the president's" but I opted for "yes" instead. He tells me that I have to take it down because we don't have a permit. I'm pissed and heartbroken, but I look into it. Since I didn't receive anything in writing, I wasn't required to do anything. So we went on and did show 30. Then came the finalization of my life being ruined. I recieved a letter in the mail threatening heavy fines if the ring wasn't taken down.

Show 31 would be our last. There was so much emotion that the quality of the show ultimately didn't matter to us. The last match was barely visible cuz it was getting dark. The next day I came home from football practice to the sight of rubble and the sickening sounds of a chainsaw. Millburn township is now on the same level as Satan, I will never forgive this hellhole of a town and I will get back at them sooner or later.

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