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Two years ago today in 2023, former Ring of Honor World Champion Jay Briscoe lost his life in a traffic incident in Delaware. He was only 38 years old.
I penned the following article that night and I am reprinting it in honor of Briscoe.
Everyone at PWInsider.com sends our continued best wishes to his entire family.
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1/17/24:
I wish I was writing about anything but this, but I can't sleep so here's some stream of consciousness-style thoughts.
What happened to Jay Briscoe is an absolute tragedy.
No matter how you describe that word, this checks off all the boxes. Every single one. Someone passing before their time. Someone who leaves their young family behind. Someone who leaves behind a family that they truly lived for. Someone who dies unexpectedly, in an almost incomprehensible way. Someone who was struck down in the prime of their life. Any one of those things alone is tragic enough, but Jay Briscoe’s death was all of those things and more.
Jay Briscoe lived for his family, in a way that should have made everyone else envious. That family, whether you want to refer to them under their given name, The Pughs or their wrestling name, The Briscoes, were a sight to behold from the very start.
I first encountered the Briscoe family back in 2001 when Mark and Jay were just starting out for Combat Zone Wrestling. At that time, Jay was perhaps 17 or 18 and Mark was younger than that. The storyline was that these young athletes had signed a contract with the devious Dewey Donovan and now he controlled their lives and careers, shoving that fact in the face of Momma and Papa Briscoe. It got a great reaction at the time, but even more impressive than these young, clean shaved, crew cut wearing wrestlers (no tattoos yet, no beard, etc.) who were SO good in the ring was the unity their family showed them.
If the Briscoes were booked somewhere, their parents (and often their sister) were there, cheering them on and watching intently. They weren’t cheering for them to win or lose per say, but they were cheering them on as family members would cheer on their beloved relatives playing in a big High School football game or college baseball game or whatever sport you think of. They would be there, supporting the match and then after, head to their car to prepare to drive Mark and Jay home.
Over the years, it changed. It went from Dad and Mom and sister to the Briscoes’ girlfriends and then their wives and then all these baby Briscoes around - like a procession of wild Briscoe ducks or something, this huge family unit bonded by their support of one of their own. As someone who never truly experienced that sort of unity in his own family life, I was always greatly entertained, perhaps even a little envious of how much this clan truly, deeply loved and supported each other, 100% of the way.
As the Briscoes grew up and became far more comfortable in their skin as performers, we got to see a window into their world when vignettes and Ring of Honor television would bring us to the farm in Sandy Hook, Delaware. No matter how serious or how silly they might be in the moment, The Briscoes never ever compromised their legitimacy as wrestlers or their credibility as tough guys, a balance that few in professional wrestling today could ever hope to conceivably master, but The Briscoes did just that. No one ever questioned that they could kick the crap out of someone who crossed them, because they were legit and carried themselves that way.
I think a big part of all of that innate strength came from their bonded family unit, because unless they were flying somewhere that made it impossible for the entire family to be there, The Briscoes were always with their family. If there was a big title match, like the night Jay Briscoe won the ROH World title in NYC, an endless procession of extended Briscoe family members, cousins, relatives, neighbors - you name it! - descended upon the scene, cheering for their beloved son. Jay Briscoe’s professional life may have been built around wrestling, but there is no doubt Jay's family was the center of his life. If that sort of pure, unadulterated love that exists in that family doesn’t make you smile, I don’t know what could - and it’s the fact that family can never, ever be the same when they so deeply loved each other that really wrecks me when I think about it.
I was lucky enough to be covering CZW when it was the hottest independent promotion in 2001. I was lucky enough to cover Ring of Honor from 2002 on when it usurped that title and evolved over the years, through different owners and bookers, into what is now owned by Tony Khan. In having that luck, I watched Jay and Mark Briscoe grow from quiet teenaged athletes into larger than life men who became bona-fide superstars. The Briscoes became entrenched forever as the Forefathers of Ring of Honor and in many ways, were the living, walking embodiment of the promotion. Lots of great talents came and left but for his entire adult life, Jay Briscoe defined ROH and professionally, it defined him.
Before ROH, there was the aforementioned CZW, where The Briscoes made history so many times over. One night in Delaware, there was a six man tag where The Amazing Red and The Maximos battled the Briscoes and Rik Blade. At some point inside this Firehouse where the show was taking place, everyone battled in the corner and I watched every single person in the building lose their Goddamn minds as they fought their way into what I described in my report at the time as a “double decker superplex” but in reality is better known today as The Tower of Doom spot, something that has been copied and Xeroxed more than any bootleg VHS tape in history. The Briscoes helped innovate that.
Then, there was the first-ever CZW Best of the Best Junior Heavyweight tournament held in the swamps of Sewell, NJ at the long-forgotten Champs Soccer Arena. Mark and Jay wrestled each other that night in 2001 and then-owner John Zandig predicted to me they would steal the show. Well Jay and Mark didn’t just steal the show but stole the entire town and perhaps the entire South Side of New Jersey as these two brothers took it to each other and in doing so, brought everyone in the building that night along with them on a massive roller coaster ride of stiff wrestling, near falls and pure athleticism that was so great, it got a standing ovation from the crowd.
Then, when they returned to the locker room, the show had to be halted because the ovation in the locker room after was so loud and extended, that it would have been distracting to whoever else walked into the ring after them. Stars weren’t born that night, but they were forged by fire - and I am pretty damn sure it was that match that got them booked into Ring of Honor when that promotion launched in 2002. I have goosebumps now thinking about that ovation they received in the locker room, where everyone was out of sight of the fans, but everyone that night could hear the pure adrenaline and joy the other wrestlers were celebrating off of that classic match.
That Briscoe vs. Briscoe match at Best of the Best was, in a lot of ways, the proof of concept for what CZW was doing at the time, pushing talents to the limit athletically and giving them lots of creative leeway to do so. For young men like The Briscoes, who had never been taught "one way" (The WWE way, the WCW way, whatever) was better than the other, they didn’t shatter glass ceilings, they created the next level of what wrestling could be and just kept ascending upwards, because there was no glass ceiling for them and others like them in that era - they were just trying to put on the best damn performances they could for the fans in attendance and hopefully, help the promotions sell VHS tapes so that everyone could make money and go to the next level.
In the process, that entire generation made pro wrestling rise to the next level. Just like Eric Bischoff’s vision of WCW Monday Nitro helped Monday Night Raw ascend, what The Briscoes and others in that generation did - whether they made it to untold riches themselves or not - was evolve professional wrestling and moved the in-ring style forward into the 21st century, effectively launching what we watch every week on WWE NXT and AEW. The roots of today's style, the style that every independent promotion that wants fans to chant their letters today, can be traced back to what The Briscoes and others were doing in CZW, Jersey All Pro Wrestling and the earliest era of Ring of Honor.
The last year of Jay Briscoe’s career on a national level was spent feuding with FTR with a trilogy of classics that, while stylistically different, may end up being this generation’s version of the Ric Flair vs. Ricky Steamboat feud in 1989 - three important matches that end up inspiring entire generations that follow. Sure, there’s a lot more blood and violence in FTR vs. The Briscoes, but the core of what made Steamboat vs. Flair so great - two different sides that each believed they were the best fighting over the most important prize in the land - is right there when Mark and Jay Briscoe battled Dax Harwood and Cash Wheeler. Those matches will be seen in an entirely different light now, but the reality is, we watched a legacy forged over the last year, just as we watched Flair and Steamboat do it in 1989.
Through all of those incarnations and Evolutions of the Briscoes, the one thing that always struck me about Jay (and Mark as well) is that he never, ever carried himself as if he was more important than anyone else. If he wasn’t with his family, Jay was talking to the person running sound or setting up the ring as much as he was other wrestlers. There was a genuine smile from him when he saw someone he recognized and it didn’t matter who that person was. He wasn’t chasing clout, he wasn’t even chasing respect - he had earned it in spades, but Jay Briscoe was a salt of the earth, blue collar man who didn’t need to prove anything. Instead, he just endeared himself to everyone by being the person he was.
If there was a wrestling seminar, he was there giving advice to help. If he was posing in the ring, you’d often hear, “You get the shot?” said to the photographers. When I interviewed either Briscoe, the other would often jump in as they answered legitimate questions, sometimes playing up their public persona as they did. Then, when we were done, it was always the same questions - was it good enough? Did I need something else? Am I sure it was OK? They cared not about themselves or just their match, but everyone in their orbit at that moment. They saw everyone as their equal in this world they all resided in.
Jamin Pugh was a giving person who never lost himself in the idea of Jay Briscoe as someone more important than anyone else. If he was in public and was recognized, he’d stop and talk forever. About a year ago, one of my oldest friends was making his way into the Buffalo airport on his way to Canada and spotted Mark and Jay, who were putting their bags in a car as they were being picked up. He recognized them and said hello, and they immediately stopped and started talking to him for a few minutes. When he said his goodbye, they called back to him and suggested they all take a photo. He did. Mind you, he didn’t ask for one - they suggested he take it. That’s the type of person Jay was and Mark is. They never felt they were above the next person because they were wrestlers or The Briscoes. They were just Dem Boys. They were one of you, and you were with them. That was the secret to why they worked as an act. Even if they were heels, you were all together, on the same level. They just happened to be on the opposite side of the barricade.
It really bums me that for some, Jay Briscoe may be looked upon for just one, stupid, idiotic tweet that was sent out in a knee jerk moment of anger and ignorance. With that one decision, Briscoe changed the trajectory of his career and no matter how remorseful his apology truly was, how much money he donated and how hard he worked, privately and in front of witnesses in many locker rooms to show that he had learned from his mistake and evolved as a person, the reality is that tweet kept Jay from being on national TV - but that one tweet shouldn't define who he was, for he was no more flawed than you or me, and he did everything he humanely could to make amends.
I always wondered what could have been for The Briscoes if he had just put the phone down that day - could we have seen them in WWE as comical babyfaces, sort of chicken farming Bushwhackers? Could we have seen them jump to AEW and battle The Young Bucks in 2019 right away on national TV? Or, would they have remained in ROH to the end and then moved on, as we watched play out. There’s no way to know for sure, but there is certainly a lesson in not acting out of anger. Doing so changed the rest of Jay’s life and he certainly suffered for it. Right or wrong, none of it matters now that he’s gone, but it’s something to be pondered when you trace Jay’s career path.
As a performer, Jay was tough in the ring but you never heard about him taking liberties. Hell, the person Jay probably beat up the hardest in the ring was his own brother, who certainly gave it back to him. Just like FTR vs. Briscoes will be held up as this magical trilogy, the many battles between the two brothers, from the CZW tournament to 3PW to the 500th episode of Ring of Honor TV and beyond, those will always be indelible memories that are left behind to live forever as new generations discuss the legend of Jay and Mark Briscoe.
It’s just a complete fucking shame that Jay gets to be a legend remembered at 38, because if anyone would have wanted to be there for his family forever, to grow up and see his grandchildren become the next generation tending to that family farm and to become the wizened old Obi-Wan Kenobi of tag team wrestling, it would have been Jamin Pugh, who the world was lucky enough to see perform as Jay Briscoe.
Jamin Pugh’s death was tragic and horrific. I wish I could write something about how this proves you need to live in the moment and chase your dreams and be all melodramatic and poetic about it, but the sad truth is this - none of it makes sense, none of it is fair and all of it has shattered a family who didn’t deserve it. There are no answers. Just the sad, tragic truth.
All of us will miss watching Jay Briscoe perform, but the family that was the nucleus of his world, the family that he left to come back to every time he wrestled - those are ones who are suffering right now and I hope you join me in hoping and praying that they can find their way going forward as they heal and hopefully, find some steps forward in the light of this unspeakable sadness.
Jay Briscoe was a tough man and a great professional wrestler, but what defined him was being a father - and I am gutted he won't have more time to continue being Dad.
My condolences to the entire Pugh/Briscoe family as they navigate the days ahead. Thank you for sharing Jay with us. He won't be forgotten.
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