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admin — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 23:54:38 +0000

The Sports Entertainment Company that employed me chose not to renew my contract in February of 2007. Okay , they fired me, you happy? I was slightly emotional, bitter yet relieved, bummed yet happy, pissed yet grateful. I NEEDED SOME TIME OFF. My partner in security, friend and mentor Jimmy T. had gotten very sick a year or so earlier, and I felt I was heading in the same direction. When she heard the news by accident in Fresno one afternoon on the loading dock, the top female executive in the company said “Was this your decision, are you okay with this?” I replied “Sometimes God does for us what we can’t do for ourselves”. And I meant it.

I flew back home, packed up my life, and found a Hilton Hotel with a spa in Southern California to do some serious R+R. I slept, worked out, abused Starbucks and ate a veritable ton of sushi for 4 weeks. Then it was time to plan my life. “What do I wanna do when I grow up?”

I flew back to New York and enjoyed the fruits of my labor [6 years on the road non-stop, 300 days a year.............BRUTAL], staying at the Hilton Midtown[I am known in some circles as Jimmy Hilton] and seeing old friends and writing a book about my life. Things were good.

A dear friend, the Chief of Police in a small but rough town in Northern New Jersey called me one day. I knew that his son Steve was an Indy wrestler in a small alliance called Bodyslam Wrestling Organization, and he had a show coming up. Would I attend? I am a big fan of Indy’s, once went to a Pro Wrestling Guerilla show in Los Angeles during ‘Mania week 2005. I loved it. “Of course I will be there!”

admin — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 23:48:31 +0000

Honored for……………..2

As I said, and getting off the subject for a minute, I love the Indy’s. These guys are amazing. These are men and women who risk their lives every weekend, doing moves and taking “bumps” that would kill most people, even well-conditioned professional athletes. And they do it for not much more than cab fare, enough money for tomorrows canned tuna and Ramen noodles. They do it because they love it, and because the possibility of stardom is only a phone call away. Humble is definitely a word that describes many of them, and I have had the pleasure of knowing a few of them. Colt Cabana comes to mind, Shark Boy, Navajo Warrior, Shantelle Taylor, So Cal Val. Hard workers all.

But I guess the same can be said for the Pros too. These are some of the hardest workers on the planet, the normal person on the street cannot begin to comprehend what the life of a wrestler is like, the bumps and the injuries, the planes and the cars, the gym and the restaurant and the hotel, the cell phone and the driving, the driving, the driving…………

“Wake up, your gonna be late!!!!” Catch a plane, the passports and the I. D., the bad food and the smelly hotel room, the muddy parking lot at the arena, bad coffee, no coffee, coffee with instant creamer, the powdered crap. Hard beds, my kid is sick at home, I missed another birthday, my wife doesn’t understand me. I’m so tired, I’m so tired. Working hurt, always working hurt. “An appearance, your kidding me, right?”

The staring, always the staring. Fans everywhere, more fans. Pictures and autograph’s. “Noonan, wake me before we land in South Korea!”

I was not a wrestler. Just the security guy. I know the life. I respect these men, I may not like some of them, and vice versa, but they will always have my respect for what they do, and how they do it……………………..to be continued.

admin — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 23:44:29 +0000

Honored………….3.

My friend the Police Chief called a few times over the next couple of weeks, checking up on me and my life changes. I was slowly de-toxing from wrestling, making sure to not watch it on the tube or talking about it with friends [although devouring the dirt sheets, namely Rajah and L.O.P.] as I was dedicated to moving on with my life. Bob was being a good friend, and he had no idea how excited I was to be going to a show and seeing his son “Steve Off”, the Future of Wrestling or some shit like that. I loved it!!

The big night arrived. I was by now “living” at the New York Hilton in Midtown, so it would be a 1/2 hour drive out to Bergen County, New Jersey where I grew up about 90 years ago. Bob called again to give me directions, but I think mostly he was calling for his son. I think he perceived me to be some kind of wrestling celebrity, or maybe an important person in general, and wanted to perform in front of me. Little did he know!! Or maybe he just wanted to thank me for an earlier jesture I made or a kindness I might have bestowed. Either way, it was gonna be good to see them. Bob was adamant on the phone, and wanted TO MAKE SURE I WAS COMING TO THE SHOW!!! Yes Roberto, I will be there, I am in fact on my way and you should maybe relax because I AM GONNA BE THERE! Jeez!

I pulled up in front of the bingo hall at precisely 7:04 for the 7pm show, fashionably late by any standards and collected the cell, the wallet, some gum, and walked in.

I knew something was up right away because they had a guy waiting for me to show me to my seat. We walked up the stairs and turned the corner into the hall. I had noticed on the way in it was very quiet and found that odd. I found out why real fast.

Bob was standing in the ring, holding a microphone. He was not smiling. Steve was standing next to him, not smiling either. This was a serious occasion, and I was slowly figuring out what was going in. There were about 50 wrestling fans in attendance, and I am willing to bet that 35 of them never new I existed, never mind worked for that giant Sports Entertainment Company that would be mentioned numerous times during this “ceremony”. But as I walked towards my seat and the ring they stared and smiled, and I was grateful for this moment, and what was about to happen…………..

admin — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 23:39:44 +0000

Honored………………..4.

I was pretty excited to go to that PWG show in Los Angeles during ‘Mania week 2005 for many reasons. I was finally going to get a chance to spend some quality time with one of my buddies, Ed Powers, the adult film legend. I had met him at ringside at a show in Staples Arena two years before and we quickly became great friends. It was also good to be getting away to enjoy some wrestling in the middle of a stressful week, and afterwards perhaps we would go smoke a nice Montecristo, eat some sushi, and then go back to the hotel and watch the “marks” work their magic, very entertaining stuff, indeed. Rafaela and I think Edmundo came along, and between the four of us we pretty much knew everyone performing that night, Samoa Joe, Styles, Daniels, Hero, Sabin, Shelley………………………and Jamie Noble.

When I found out that Jamie was wrestling that night I smiled. He was in between stints at the Sports Entertainment Company that employed us. Jamie was easily one of our best wrestlers, had been champ of his division and had a reputation as one of the hardest workers in the biz. A pleasant, unassuming guy and always a gentleman, his biggest fans were a beautiful wife and son.

“Would he remember me?”

What a show, what a night! The “Commissioner” SoCal Val started the show [a nice way to start a show if you ask me] and it was non-stop high flying and borderline neck-breaking action for almost 4 hours. We sat front row center, took some pictures with fans and ran like hell anytime these guys flew our way. It was gonna be Jamie Noble vs. The American Dragon later in the card, so we sat back and enjoyed.

Their match started. They held a veritable wrestling clinic for the better part of a half hour, countering each others moves and holds brilliantly while utilizing every inch of the ring. At one point Dragon knocked Noble over the rope and out to the floor, and here comes Jamie flying onto my lap, BOOM! He then fell to the floor, selling like a pro. “Hi Jamie” I said quietly as I sorta rubbed the back of his head. He upped and rolled back into the ring, ready to battle.

I forgot who went over that night, but it really wasn’t important. It was great to see an old friend, Jamie Noble. He and Dragon shook hands after the match as we stood and applauded, and they started to walk around opposite sides of the ring to greet fans. Jamie was on the far side, closer to the entrance, so I didn’t think he would be able to come over to say hello, and I was disappointed. As he approached the entrance to walk backstage, he suddenly stopped. He turned and started to walk our way. Ed lightly elbowed me in the side, “Here he comes.”

“Hey Jimmy, how ya doin’?” We hugged and smiled. He was sweating, and I got soaked, but it was great. There was a semi-audible “aawwhhhhhhh” from the small crowd, those who seemed to know our history. He remembered.

It was a nice moment, at least for me. A former co-worker showing some love and respect. The moment spoke volumes to me. In that second, that small gesture meant so much, said so much. It said “Jimmy, I remember all the times at the airport at 5a.m. I remember the almost 40 hour charter flight to Bangkok that time, all the flights late at night, all the flights to South Africa and Australia, the laughter and the tears, the handshakes and the smiles, thousands of hours backstage in places we would rather not be, the ‘take care’s’ and ‘good mornings’ and ’see ya next week, Bro’. I remember………….. I remember, Jimmy.”

Respect.

“Respect.” That is the word Bob kept using that night in Hasbrouk Heights, New Jersey……………………………….

HONORED……………..THE FINALE!

admin — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 21:16:11 +0000

HONORED……………..THE FINALE!

Merriam-Webster dictionary defines respect this way: high or special regard, the quality or state of being esteemed.

As I sat in my chair on the front row, the one marked “Jim Noonan- RESERVED”, emotions started to flood. I was equally grateful, embarrassed and humbled. I was not expecting this, this tribute, or anything like it. Bob had really outdone himself this time.

Just like I was not expecting the World Champ to say farewell to me in his own way 5 weeks earlier in San Jose. His main-eventer was over and he was already in the back as the crowd went nuts screaming his name. On this night he came back out and circled the ring, finding me in the corner. He whispered “go with it” in my ear and rolled me in the ring, made a short speech about me leaving and ended it with “……and I am Pissed!!!” He threw me in the corner, pulled his shorts up his behind and ass-faced me, a la ‘Kishi. I was happy to play along, the 16,000 in attendance singing “NA NA NA NA, HEY HEY HEY, GOODBYE” as we walked off arm-in-arm. I already had great love for Dave, a kind and considerate friend, and I will never forget that respectful gesture that night, even though I had to endure his sweatty ass in my face. A perfect send-off, giant Sports Entertainment Company style. But…………………

I got to the backstage, a few people shook my hand and said goodbye, most of them eager to get out of the building to get to the hotel and some sleep before the cross country trip the next morning. I was, emotionally speaking, at Defcon 2, ready to lose it at any second. I had waged a seven year battle with this job, and it was all over. I was a mess. I would walk off every few minutes, usually back into the empty arena, so nobody would see me wiping away tears, therefore letting them know that deep down I was hurt, feelings bruised, dreading having to be in this position in my life.

That top female executive I mentioned earlier walked by with her belongings, ready to fly on the corporate jet to the East Coast. She stopped, and referring to Dave and I earlier in the ring, said “That was some goodbye, huh!?” I smiled and nodded. Then she fumbled with a small bag and said “Don’t be a stranger!”, and walked away.

WHAT??????

Yep, that was it.

At least it was more than I got from the boss, though. Yes, that boss. Nothing, not a hand shake. NADA. Same from the talent relations guy, the one I answered to on a weekly basis. And the office guy I reported to, he sent word through one of his emissaries, thanking me for being a “professional” and acting like a gentleman, nice job blah blah blah…. No matter how much he personally disliked me, he should have picked up the phone and told me himself, I deserved AT LEAST that. Pathetic.

What does it all mean, though? I will tell you what it all means. It means…………………………nothing. It is empty and meaningless. IT MEANS NOTHING, so there is no use to having feeling about it. Unfortunately, it say more about them than it does about me.

I will tell you about a fantasy I had a day or two earlier. I fantasized that on my last day, out by the limo’s, the boss was gonna hand me a thick envelope, look me in the eye, shake my hand with both of his and say “Thank you, Jimmy Noonan, for protecting my family.” In the envelope was $10,000.00 because he figured I’d need it, having a 2 yr. old daughter in another state. I have always had a rich fantasy life, but this one was particularly rich.

Not a handshake.

“This is a sign of respect” said Bob as I held my face in my hands. “Will all the wrestlers come out now and surround the ring?” He then proceeded to tell the crowd about me, that I was a “special friend”, and that aside from retiring from that very large Worldwide Wrestling Entity after 7 years of protecting pro wrestlers from “fanatics like you”, that I had a memorable role in the movie “Supertroopers”. “We are here to thank him for all he has done.” High regard, indeed. “Jim, would you come up now?”

As I stood in the ring, being honored [Bob would later call this "The Night of Respect"] for my very small contribution to a business that I had mixed emotions about but ultimately respected [yes, I said it, RESPECTED], I did not know what to do or how to react. This was THEIR ring, the 30 some-odd wrestlers standing before me. I was on THEIR turf. But it was still OUR show, I needed to get out of the ring and get to where I belonged. Yes, the ring was theirs, but now I understood that after 7 years the ringside was mine. I needed to be in my spot, kneeling in the corner, head on a swivel, making sure nobody tries to interrupt the show. You can have the ring, the ringside is mine

“Would you like to say something, Jim?” He handed me the mike.

“I’m just the security guy, but thank you.” That is all I could come up with, and with that all the wrestlers came to me, shook my hand and said thank you. “Thank you, have a great show” I replied to each of them. And it was over.

I prayed that night as I drove back to NYC. I prayed for Bob and Steve, the wrestlers from BWO, and for everyone at the giant Sports Entertainment Company. I got to see the world on the boss’s dime. I had a great ride, and I am proud of my work, very proud. I thanked God for the abundance in my life.

Respect. We want it, We need it, We crave it. We all deserve it, it is a bottom line, reasonable expectation. We should all try harder to meet that expectation.

Thank you Bob, Thank you Steve-Off, Thank you BWO for a special night at a time when I needed it. And yes, Thank you Giant Sports Entertainment Company, thank you for everything!

Thank you for reading.

Oh, and by the way, don’t be a stranger!

Hello world!

admin — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 21:29:22 +0000

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