The drunkest I’ve ever been in my life is thanks to Mark Briscoe(mostly)

Before I get started on my story, some of you don’t know who Mark Briscoe is, and he most definitely needs an introduction.

Mark and his brother Jay are two brothers who wrestle as a tag team on the independent circuit. They are real life chicken farmers, and while the link I posted is quite exaggerated, I could also see it happening in real life. How Duck Dynasty has a show, and these guys don’t, I’ll never know. On to the story.

I traveled around the Northeast with ROH for almost all of 2009. During this time they were holding television tapings for HDNet at the old ECW arena in Philadelphia. That’s where this takes place.

I was hanging out at the arena on Friday before the tapings, when a bunch of guys started talking about what we wanted to do that evening after the show. We always had to get there really early to help with any set up, but once that was done there wasn’t much to do. A group of us decide that we’ll hang out in the arena after the show and drink a bit before heading out for the night. This way we didn’t have to worry about spending money at the bar. A couple of us that had earlier matches ran out after them and picked up a few things at the liquor store.

The show ends, and the group that had talked about hanging out got together and we started a little social circle. As we’re swapping stories while enjoying our previous purchases, the owner of the building comes out with about a quarter full tequila bottle. I’m not a big drinker, so I’m not sure what size it was, but it was about medium I would say. So we pass it around one time so everyone can take a hit, a couple of guys take a few extra, then it got set to the side.

As we’re deciding it’s time to head out, everybody cleaned up after themselves, and we got ready to leave. Before we could go, someone picks up the tequila bottle and yells out, “Well, somebody has to finish this before we go!!!” This is where things went downhill for your boy. Mark Briscoe grabs the bottle, looks around the room, and says, “Kermon, you take it champ!” Now it’s not like the thing was still quarter full, but there were probably about 6 or more full shots left in there. If you watched that video, this doesn’t really seem like a crazy challenge coming from that guy.  I know you’re probably thinking, “Why didn’t you just say no?” Well, if I’ve had a few drinks, and you challenge me to drink something, I’ll drink after proclaiming, “I’m a man dammit”(As long as I know what the drink is and that it hasn’t been tampered with;). So that’s exactly what happened here, and I downed it in one gulp to a round of applause from the boys. I was the man dammit, untouchable.

After that we cram seven people in to my honda civic, and hit the city. During this car ride is when everything starts to hit me. I even passed out before we got to the first bar. Thankfully I was left in the car while everybody else went in. I’m sure most people would be pissed about being left in a car passed out in Philadelphia, but things would have been way worse had I been woken up. The rest of the night is kind of choppy from here. I’ll tell you what I remember. Waking up at Wawa and getting out of the car to puke on the sidewalk. Waking up in the car outside of a second bar. Waking up at the hotel, making a beeline for the room, and laying on the floor so I could pass out(which I was labeled a creep for sleeping in my shoes, but I gave no fucks). You would think that’s where the story ends, but nope.

The next day I wake up, and feel like I died in my sleep, came back to life, died, came back to life, died, I’m sure you get the picture. Actually, the very first thing I did upon waking up was puke. After everybody else woke up, we decided to get some breakfast. My first thought was, “Good, get food in me to soak up some of this evil”. We went to a local diner that was right next to the hotel, which was actually kind of perfect. I ordered a regular breakfast, nothing crazy, eggs, toast, hash browns, coffee. I eat a couple bites of egg, and feel it coming. I excuse myself so that I can vomit in the bathroom, then return to the table, and take as many bites of toast that I can keep down before heading to the arena for the show that day.

I wasn’t full time with ROH, just trying to earn a spot, which normally meant you wrestled once per weekend. I wrestled Friday, so it wasn’t that big of a deal to get absolutely hammered the night before. We get to the building, and the first thing that I hear is, “Hey Kermon, you ready to make your TV debut tonight?”. My reply, “Uh, what are you talking about?” “Well, we need someone to wrestle DLo Brown, and we’re going to give you the match.” Enter full panic mode. I still felt like shit, how was I going to perform. The match was only a couple of minutes, but it was for TV, and I wanted to look good! I immediately hop in my car, head to Wawa, grab a gatorade and a sandwich for when my stomach calmed down some. I prayed that would be by 7:00 when the show started.

I wish I could tell you that I stunk the place up, or had a raging vomit episode, but everything went fine. I felt fine by the time everything started. I did have to hear all day about how DLo was going to make me puke, so that didn’t really help. Couldn’t find a link for the match, but this story is probably better than that any way. Thanks for reading.



About johnkermon

Just a dude pretending to be a dude, pretending to be another dude.
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