PIMPing my Cousin (Not Literally) ...For the right price, though, we could talk...
With Tournament of Death right around the corner, and my demise more-than-likely imminent, my thoughts turn to the unfinished business in my life. That in mind, I’d like to take a moment to put over my 15-year-old cousin and his friends to you, the avid Danny Havoc website reader (whom, I suspect, does not actually exist). If your question to me is “Danny, why do I care about your 15-year-old cousin?”; the answer is, “You don’t.” But I DO, and since I write the website, you’re very much out of luck, and will just have to go fornicate with thyself. Ha.
As those of you who are familiar with my life story already know (hi, mom!), I was—once upon a time—a competitor in the noble and respected sport of backyard wrestling. If you want more information on this (and I can’t imagine why you would), just clickety-click on the link: UHWIowa. Anyhoo, years of backyard stupidity eventually led me to join CZW, and to become the internationally-celebrated celebrity that you see before you today. Now, my young cousin and best friend (that’s weird, isn’t it? I knew it…) is on a very similar path, having taken the “UHW” moniker from my erstwhile chums and I and started up his own backyard wrestling ‘promotion’ in his hometown of Mankato, Minnesota (UHWDeepNorth). He came out to visit me here last week, at my current headquarters on the east coast, and he showed me what he’d been up to, wrestling-wise, and it inspired me to write this column. I must say, I was very impressed…the things that he’s physically able and willing to do, at 15, make my comparable achievements at that age seem pathetic.
At fifteen, I had only been a fan of pro wrestling for about two years, and I was lucky if I could do an axe-handle smash without injuring myself. Sam, at the same age, is now successfully incorporating a picturesque Cancun Tornado into his offense, and taking bumps that many of my professional brethren would think twice about. Now, clearly, from an intelligence standpoint, this is very stupid, as he’s irrepairably damaging himself for very little recognition and no monetary reciprocation, but hey—that’s what backyarding’s all about. Scoff all you want, but I think it’s cool…I have a lot of respect for people who’ll do anything for something they love, even if (in the end) they’re just doing it for their own entertainment. That’s why I chose to write this brief little page…as a backyarder, I did lots of crazy things that only my closest friends and I ever got to appreciate…now I’m in something of a position to get some more widespread exposure for my cousin, and—being the philanthropist that I am—I’d like to help him out. So here, without further ado, is a keen highlight video of some low-grade backyard nuttiness featuring my youthful cousin, Sam; known to his backyarding cohorts as THE RANCID MONK! (That's a link, stupid...)
Obviously, it’s very backyard, what with the mattresses and the tarp and the quiet suburban neighborhood in the background, but look past that—realize that these are young high school kids, making do with what they have available to try to emulate something that they love. Any wrestler in the past decade who has taken the time to sit down and write a website or column or book has, at some point, felt the need to state their position on backyard wrestling, being that (as Oprah helpfully informed everyone) it’s a “frightening new nightmare trend sweeping the nation”…well, I am fully in favor of it. There you go. I like it when people hurt each other, no matter their level of skill or training. Yay for violence.
As for Sam, well…perhaps, in a few years, if he doesn’t severely injure himself first, you’ll see him making his debut in a CZW ring, and I have no doubt that he’ll be a helluva lot better than I am…
