Check Out Jeremiah Plunkett’s Story

Today we’d like to introduce you to Jeremiah Plunkett.

Jeremiah, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
I’ve been a lifelong fan of the sport. My earliest memories are filled with wrestling. Around 1996, I discovered the United States Wrestling Association (USWA). I saw the the likes of Jerry Lawler, Bill Dundee, Dutch Mantell, PG-13, and others. That led to a group of friends and I, with the help of my father and grand grandparents, to build a wooden ring and form Boro Championship Wrestling (BCW), our backyard wrestling “organization”. We tried our best to emulate what we saw on TV and on tapes.
I was also a high school athlete, specifically football. When a future in football didn’t pan out (not a large market for a lineman under 6’ tall), I decided to actively pursue my professional wrestling desire.
My friends Chris, Caleb, and I set out to find training. It was 2005, and we weren’t exactly fluent in the internet yet, so it never crossed my mind to Google (or AskJeeves) “pro wrestling schools”. Instead we would attend shows and question wrestlers on their way to the ring.
We received a bunch of strange looks, but finally we were taken in by “Mean” Mike Woods, Buzz Dupp, and “Outlaw” Lee Condry. After 6 months of training, I began my journey into the wild world of independent professional wrestling.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
Absolutely not!
In the early days, you’re working for experience, exposure, and maybe the famous “hot dog and a handshake”. Financial compensation is hard to come by. I think my largest pay out in my first year was $15 for an event. Promoters, especially back then, were notorious about terrible pay. Even if you agreed on a rate beforehand, you would often get the “house was down, brother” and what are you going to do? It’s either quit or learn from it and move on.
Professional wrestling is also a cosmetic industry. Size and physique often matter as much as, if not more than, ability. I lack both and had to prove myself in spite of that.
I just crossed 20-year on the job. In that time, I have never had the stability of a guaranteed contract, or any contract for that matter. Even now, as the Mid-America Heavyweight Champion for Billy Corgan’s (yes, THAT one) National Wrestling Alliance, I am on a handshake, per appearance agreement.
I admit that at time, especially in these later years of my career, the stability is very enticing. However, if I am to go out like I came in, fiercely independent, then I can be ok with that. I once read a book years ago by Larry Zbyszko. In it he said something to the effect of a true pro needs 3 things – his word, a guarantee (rate), and a 2-week notice. I have always prided myself in living by those words, and if the contract offer and guaranteed money never comes, I can romanticize that I did it like the journeymen that came before me, and I did it truly my way.

Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I am an independent professional wrestler. I have a few monikers.
King of the Territories.
Wrestling’s Last Journeyman.
Gatekeeper of Southern Rasslin’.
A Bad, Bad Man.
I’m Jeremiah Plunkett. I proudly represent the tradition of Southern rasslin’. I specialize in a style that’s physical, gritty, and grounded in storytelling — the kind that’s been passed down through generations in places like Nashville, Memphis, and all across the Southeast.
I take pride in preserving and protecting what makes this region’s wrestling so special.
I’m most proud of making what name I have the hard way – and the RIGHT way, in my opinion, of course. I wasn’t handed anything. I work in armories and arenas, in barns and basketball gymnasiums, and everywhere in between. I’ve trained young talent and given them their first matches, I’ve gone toe-to-toe with legends, who later became my peers and even my friends.
What sets me apart is being a throwback in a modern era. I’ve seen an industry evolve around me and somehow managed to stay somewhat relevant by refusing to standing my ground.
Also, I’d have to attribute a large part of my limited success to an unexplainable staying power I’ve somehow been blessed with. As I said before, I just passed 20-years on the job. I’m now at the point where I’m training or wrestling my peers’ children and, even more soul-crushing, being told “I used to watch you when I was a kid.”

What has been the most important lesson you’ve learned along your journey?
I went through a rough spell about 10-12 years on the job. Seeing people with less experience than me rocket past me, getting signed to contracts. Being told I’m talented but too short, too chubby, etc. It was hard to come to terms with dedicating over a decade of my life to an art, and it never seemingly paying off. There was always something. It took an injury in 2015, a torn labrum and bicep tendon, where surgery and being on the shelf for 6 months (should have been 9-10) took wrestling from me. I then had the realization that at one point I would have done this for free – and did! I made a decision to refuse to be bitter. Even the worst experience wrestling was better than life without.
Now I’m not saying I’m willing to go back to the hotdogs and handshakes or the exposure bucks, but I was more appreciative of the opportunities that I have been given, and of the people that took chances on me. Post surgery, and momentum I had (I wrestled the NWA World’s Heavyweight Champion Satoshi Kojima and was flown out to perform in Australia 3 months before my injury) had vanished. I had to start from scratch again. I was heavy, out of shape, and refiguring myself out.
Promoters, bookers, and other talent took chances on me, and slowly but surely I worked hard to prove them right. I owed it to them. They put their name on me.
And like that, just by changing my outlook, the doors slowly started to crack open again. That is a long way of saying, what you put out is what you receive, and the toes that you step on during your journey upward may be connected to the backside you have to kiss on your way down.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.prowrestlingtees.com/jeremiahplunkett
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/plunkitis/
• Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/Plunkitis/
• Twitter: https://x.com/plunkitis
• Youtube: https://youtube.com/@jeremiahplunkett
• Other: https://linktr.ee/jeremiahplunkett