Jon Moxley - MOX

A PERMUTED PRESS BOOK

ISBN: 978-1-63758-038-7

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-63758-039-4

MOX

2021 by Jon Moxley

All Rights Reserved

Co ver photos by Rya n Loco

Cover design by Tiffani Shea

Interior design by Donna McLeer / Tunnel Vizion Media LLC

This is a work of nonfiction. All people, locations, events, and situations are portrayed to the best of the authors memory.

The author is represented by MacGregor & Luedeke.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Permuted Press, LLC

New York Nashville

permutedpress.com

Published in the United States of America

Ive never really considered my own identity.

Sure, Ive occupied the vessels of characters in certain narratives over the years, and maybe some of these narratives, or the things that happened within these storylines, were informed or inspired by my real life. In those cases, I was tapping into elements of my own identity, as if this were all real. But its also all fake. Point of clarification: As a wrestler, Im allowed to say fake, but youre not. Dont make me stab you. Did that make any sense to you? Have I lost you already?

Professional wrestlers are such a strangely specific type of athlete/performer/artist/entertainer. Were impossible to categorize. Ive heard people try even wrestlers themselves. Dont. Just dont. Theres no specific word or term, its just wrestling. And youd only be shortchanging the thing we love if you tried to define it more than that. Wrestling can be ANYTHING. Its everything. Its world-class athletes. Its Broadway, Shakespeare, summer blockbusters, best-selling novels, soap operas, high art. Its nobodies from nowhere finding a way to say to the world: Fuck you! Its entertainment, its movies, its music. Its EVERYTHING.

If you dont like wrestling already, youre probably not reading this book, but just in case youre a civilian not initiated into our world WELCOME. Youre gonna love it theres something for everybody.

I never put much thought into my actual identity until I started writing this book. For many years, I simply didnt exist. Then I became a pro wrestler, and now Im writing this and trying to figure out, like who the fuck do we say wrote it? What is my identity? OK, we can say its a book by a pro wrestler at least that we know for certain. The rest? Ive come to find as I go back and think about how I got here, about to have a little girl (who were calling Nora, and who Im gonna teach to be choking MFers out from an early age), that Im a bunch of other things too: athlete, entertainer, storyteller, yes, but also socially challenged, borderline alcoholic, mildly sadomasochistic, headcase, poor kid, juvenile delinquent, brother, son, friend. Im also a pretty damn good husband and a supernaturally potent sexual creature.

Above all, I hope to be a good father, which I know in my heart I will be. I have no fear of that. So who do we say wrote the book? Just say MOX, cuz that can mean everything. Its all that shit and everything else Ive forgotten and even shit that hasnt happened yet. I make no apologies.

I dont profess to have any answers about anything. That being said, Ive seen some shit and been some places and made some observations along the way. I want this book to be fun to read, and I sincerely hope that no one takes it too seriously, but maybe somebody can learn a little something. I know fuck-all about shit, but somehow I came out on the other side of the last 35 years having achieved everything I ever wanted, with the woman of my dreams. Im blessed to do what I love for a living, and I like to think Im pretty good at it. Maybe I just got lucky. Maybe this book just serves as a guide to what not to do. For instance: Dont smoke crack. Ill describe it for you now just so curiosity doesnt get the better of you: Its like doing a whip-it and eating wasabi at the same time. Still, if you really just love smoking crack and thats your thing, I wont stop you. In any case, just like any night I come back from the ring, in writing this book I hope Ive created something people enjoy, just like any night I lay my soul bare, sweating and bleeding with all my effort and whatever physical ability I have left, just to tell a story or two. With this book, I share my experience with you.

JoKe Claudio told me:

I had a dream I swam in

an ocean of oranGe soda,

but it was just

a Fanta Sea .

This is a crazy-ass ride Ive been on for 16 years.

But recently now, finally, the whole world makes sense to me.

How did I get here?

How have I been AEW World Champion for so long?

The answer is my dad.

Six-foot-three, 250-pound brick shithouse, would box your ears if you got out of line.

Scary.

One day hes in town. He picks me up from the police station but doesnt hit me.

Her looks at me and says something Ill never forget.

He says, Son were the good guys. No matter what happens, no matter whats going around you, just remember. Were the good guys.

They tried to lie, cheat, and steal this championship away from me.

Ive been jumped, beat up, Ive fought monsters, technicians, my own friends but I always know what to do. I always have.

Were the good guys.

And now the whole world is bearing down on me, my body feels like hell, I cant even get out of bed in the morning. I have a pregnant wife at home. Im holding two titles on two different continents. I have challengers coming from every which way.

What do I do?

I know what to do.

Were the good guys.

So tonight, Im going to walk to the ring. Im going to sign that contract without any hesitation. Im going to look into Kenny Omegas eye, Im going to shake his hand and let him know in no uncertain terms, I am the best wrestler in the world.

I am the AEW World Champion.

I am my dads son.

And I am Jon Goddamn Moxley.

And that is never gonna change.

That story, taken from an interview I did on an episode of AEW Dynamite, is 99.9 percent true. I took the creative liberty to make my dad 6'3", 250 lbs. in order to enhance the idea of his physically intimidating presence when in reality hes 5'9", but he was still every bit the brick shithouse in his prime. My dad, Danny Burl Good, had meaty hands and a crushing grip that appeared superhuman to me as a child, fortified by baling hay in the humid summers of rural Clermont County in southern Ohio. Built like a human fire hydrant, my dad was an All-Conference football player for Clermont Northeastern high school, at center. Sturdy. Fortified. Dependable. In command. In control of the football. Nothing happens until I snap this ball. When I do, I will gracefully and assuredly pass it between my legs to my teammate, the quarterback, who gets all the attention, praise and chicks, and then and only then the play will commence. After that, some violent shit might go down. Ill do what I gotta do to make sure our prom kingquarterback gets to do his thing, and Ill get down and dirty to block who I need to and clear a path for the star running back, who gets his photos in the paper. Cool, calm, composed. Trustworthy. The bedrock. The center.

Thats my dad. Were the good guys is my moral compass, the words that guide me to determine which path I take. When we sat in that car and my dad said the words that would be forever etched into my brain, he wasnt trying to philosophize, wax poetic or tell me some groundbreaking new idea Id never heard before. It was simple. Common sense really. I was into some bad shit, hanging around other kids my age doing stupid things, but that wasnt who I was. He knew it. He knew I knew it. The message of Were the good guys is simple: If your life was a movie, are you doing things the bad guys in the movie are doing or things the good guys are doing? In film, its usually easy to tell the difference: You know who the protagonist is, you know who the antagonist is. You dont have to be told. Now Im not saying after this exact moment I never did anything stupid ever again. I went on to commit many stupid, regrettable and embarrassing offenses and probably will go on to commit more in the future. But as I get older, more experienced, collect more scars and become more grateful to God and the universe for my abundance of good fortune, I always come back to this simple philosophy: Were the good guys.