The McMahon–Anderson rivalry wasn’t the only one making news in 1983. In St. Louis, the philosophical differences between Larry Matysik and Bob Geigel fractured their working relationship, and Matysik went out on his own.98 He incorporated Greater St. Louis Wrestling Enterprises, and reached out to fellow indie promoters for talent.99 He found receptive allies in Joe Blanchard (SCW) and Angelo Poffo (ICW) and, without television, launched his promotion on June 18, 1983. He featured two claimants to the world title, ICW champion Randy Savage and SCW champion Adrian Adonis, and a solid lineup of wrestlers. King Kong (Bruiser) Brody was his top star, but the show failed to live up to expectations when Brody’s opponent, Blackjack Mulligan, didn’t appear. The wrestling war in St. Louis was already lopsided. That was because eight days earlier, a truly memorable program had been held at the Kiel Auditorium by Geigel’s St. Louis Wrestling Club.
Geigel, the NWA president, in the interest of protecting his business, persuaded his colleagues to authorize a world heavyweight title switch for his June 10 show, the aforementioned Harley Race victory over Ric Flair. The changing hands of the NWA belt drew immense attention to his local brand, overshadowing Matysik’s outlaw group, as he intended. He also pushed Race for a particular reason. Not only was he a trusted friend, but he was also tied with Lou Thesz with six reigns as NWA titleholder. (For Thesz, it was his combined National Wrestling Association and National Wrestling Alliance titles.) Thesz was connected to Matysik’s group and appeared as a special referee on his June 18 show. To garner a little retribution against Thesz for this perceived lack of loyalty, Geigel gave Race his seventh reign, establishing a new record and making an important mark in history. Again, in the kayfabe era, people in the business took this stuff very seriously.
The St. Louis Wrestling Club had the political connections, the TV, and the finances to outgun Matysik from day one. The group’s talent-sharing arrangement through the NWA was another pivotal advantage, and in advance of the June 10 program, Pat O’Connor told a reporter that they were booking “every magic name in wrestling.”100 The lineup included Andre the Giant, David Von Erich, Roddy Piper, Big John Studd, and Dick the Bruiser. Despite the odds, Matysik was determined to fight on. He landed a local television outlet and ran four shows at the Checkerdome that summer. His tireless efforts weren’t lost on fans, and his ratings and attendance improved dramatically, while the opposite happened to his opponents. It was a unique reversal, and Matysik, with his stable of lesser-known workers, was making life hard for Geigel and his partners.
The strength of the NWA was being tested on all fronts. The cooperation of members, particularly when one affiliate was up against a non-Alliance opponent, was holding steady to a certain extent, but there was only so much talent to go around. Territories including Florida and Georgia experienced a shortage of good wrestlers, and neither was in any position to seriously assist a distant colleague. Geigel did receive outside support, but it wasn’t powerful enough to give him a decisive victory. And if the NWA president was having trouble squashing an independent operator in one of his principal cities, what did it say about the overall health of the Alliance?
There was another problem too. On May 10, 1983, Frank Tunney, a principal NWA leader going back decades, suddenly passed away during a vacation to Hong Kong.101 His importance to the Alliance couldn’t be overstated, as he was not only a member of the board of directors and the second vice president, but an incredible mentor. When it came to making decisions about the future of the NWA, Tunney was never compelled by an insatiable need to make money or to gain status for himself. He generally cared about the organization and wanted his allies to achieve the same kind of success he had. Wrestling had always been good to him, and with Sam Muchnick retired, Tunney had embraced his role as the group’s senior voice of reason.
But with Tunney gone, the NWA caucus in August 1983 was going to be anything but reasonable and rational. Tensions were high, and the overall composition of the organization was going to change by the end of the three-day session at the Dunes Hotel on the Las Vegas Strip. That was apparent on day one, August 21, during the initial meeting of the board of directors, when Jim Barnett resigned as the organization’s secretary and treasurer, giving up one of the most powerful positions in pro wrestling.102 As the booker for the world heavyweight champion since 1975, he was the go-to man within the Alliance, and was considered to be the center of the NWA’s political hierarchy. Barnett was involved in all high-level discussions and sent the champion through the various territories as evenly as he could to keep affiliates happy. He had been an official member since 1969, but his ties to the Alliance dated back to the early 1950s.
Barnett’s move was prompted by at least two factors. His difficulties with Ole Anderson, a fellow Georgia Championship Wrestling shareholder, were a root cause for animosity, and whereas Barnett was vacating the board of directors at the 1983 convention, Anderson was joining it.103 But Barnett had another reason to step down. He planned to link up with Vince McMahon Jr.’s Titan Sports in efforts to both stifle Anderson and expand the WWF. After all, McMahon was already at war with Anderson, and how better for Barnett to gain a little revenge than to help the WWF strengthen its national position? Barnett retained his stock in GCW and attended the remainder of the convention, but his plans to aid McMahon remained secret.
The board of directors meeting saw another resignation, this time by Mike LeBell.104 Since going into business with McMahon Jr. in late 1982, LeBell’s role in wrestling had significantly diminished. He was a figurehead in southern California, if anything, and his veteran standing was his only contribution to the Alliance. A third member of the board, Frank Tunney, had passed, and a fourth, Vince McMahon “Senior,” was in a questionable spot because his son was actively battling another dues-paying NWA member. During the general meetings over the next two days, the outspoken Anderson didn’t bite his tongue when it came to this topic and addressed McMahon’s apparent conflict of interest between his devotion to the Alliance and the controversial maneuvering of his son. Members also discussed a number of other serious issues, including the drug problem within wrestling, the development of new talent, and doubling annual dues from $100 to $200.105
For the umpteenth convention in a row, the television situation was heavily debated, and, according to the meeting minutes, it was determined “that there was really no remedy available” to prevent “over-saturation of wrestling television programming.” Surprisingly, Bob Geigel declared that there was “nothing wrong” with competition and reminded members that antitrust accusations could arise from the NWA uniting against any particular rival.106 His comments were somewhat politically correct, and considering his rivalry in St. Louis, he knew better than anyone what the toll was in a heated war for territory. Perhaps a renewed concern about government oversight was the reason members weren’t exhausting every possible avenue to put foes out of business. This, in itself, was evidence that the Alliance was weaker than it had been. But the fear of prosecution was definitely nothing to scoff at.
Geigel spoke about McMahon Jr.’s tactics without naming names, explaining that there was a fundamental problem with paying “unjustifiable sums” to television stations, arena managers, and to the wrestlers themselves to acquire a territorial advantage. He felt it was “unwise” and told members that history demonstrated “that such practices in a market [would] probably kill it.”107 On the whole, NWA affiliates were expecting 1984 to be a difficult year, but plans they believed would be helpful to their collective box office were already in motion. “Nature Boy” Ric Flair, the charismatic blond heel with a skilled ring presence, was being pushed back toward the championship, and Jim Crockett was laying out a brilliant script in the Mid-Atlantic region to make that happen.
The NWA completely overhauled its board of directors at that convention with only two of seven members returning. Anderson, Crockett, Mike Graham, Don Owen, and David Von Erich were the newcomers, and only Dory Fun
k Jr. and Victor Jovica remained. Of all the changes, McMahon’s departure was the most intriguing. Many wondered what his role was in his son’s plans, if they were indeed working side by side. Not everyone was aware that Titan Sports had purchased McMahon Sr.’s Capitol Wrestling Corporation and that by June 1983, McMahon Jr. owned the World Wrestling Federation outright.108 McMahon Sr. was no longer in charge of a major promotion, and the only reasonable move left was to offer his resignation and head into semi-retirement.
On August 31, 1983, from his picturesque Fort Lauderdale home, McMahon Sr. did just that. He sent a letter to Geigel informing him of his immediate resignation, noting: “I wish continued success to you and my many friends in the Alliance.”109 No doubt he meant it. McMahon was that kind of man, thoughtful and considerate. His son was laying the groundwork for a remarkably risky plan, and McMahon Sr. was aware of his ideas. The grandiose scheme was well beyond anything he’d ever attempted during his decades in the business. His biggest maneuver had been getting into New York and acquiring booking rights at Madison Square Garden. In the 1950s, that was a huge accomplishment. But his son wanted a far bigger prize. And as a result, the wrestling industry was about to turn upside down.
Chapter Seven
“They Sure Got Rid of Me”
The writing was on the wall. Vince McMahon Sr.’s decision to leave the National Wrestling Alliance was confirmation that his son was no longer abiding by any of the old handshake agreements. It appeared to be proof that Vincent Kennedy McMahon was going to ignore the existing structure of organized pro wrestling and test the perseverance of promoters all over the United States and Canada. Concerned territorial heads with longstanding ties to McMahon Sr. went to their phones and sought conciliation. They wanted promises from him that his son was not plotting takeover attempts of their regions. But what could the elder McMahon promise? He possessed no stock or membership in any organization and was privately battling cancer.
Already with notable feathers in his cap, McMahon Jr. and his new ally Jim Barnett were ready to push the envelope, and Ohio was the central battleground. The WWF had been working on a full invasion strategy for more than a year and acquired a local station, WAKR-23 out of Akron, with reach to Cleveland, on January 8, 1983.110 The following month, McMahon’s workers debuted at an Akron high school.111 The promotion added regular shows in East Liverpool and Struthers, both near the Pennsylvania border. Eight months later, within a week of the NWA convention, the WWF renewed its Ohio expansion, and having Barnett around was a major benefit. On Saturday, August 27, 1983, the WWF debuted on WCPO-9 in Cincinnati, the same station Barnett had used back in the late 1950s and ’60s. Barnett still had plenty of contacts in the area and, with a sellable product hyped by the fact that it was “from New York City,” he bowled over station executives and secured TV time.
An established Georgia Championship Wrestling town, Cincinnati was quickly followed by an assault on Dayton, and Ole Anderson was in danger of losing two of his prime cities to the WWF. McMahon and Barnett shrewdly prompted the management at Dayton’s WKEF-22 to cancel World Championship Wrestling on Saturday afternoons and replace it straightaway with the WWF’s Championship Wrestling. A short time later, an official from the Hara Arena, the main wrestling venue in Dayton, informed GCW that the WWF had also signed an exclusive deal with the facility, thus leaving Anderson completely out in the cold.112 On October 8 and 9, Andre the Giant led the charge into Cincinnati and Dayton, and his gigantic footprint captured the imagination of local fans. As for Barnett, his value was apparent to the WWF, and he made a public appearance at a TV taping in Allentown as a demonstration of his new loyalty.113
McMahon had another ace up his sleeve. On the morning of Sunday, August 28, 1983, a new WWF offering replaced Joe Blanchard’s Southwest Championship Wrestling telecast on the USA Cable Network. All-American Wrestling made its debut with McMahon himself serving as the host. The patriotic-themed program was a stunner to fans expecting grappling from San Antonio, but Blanchard could no longer afford the costly payments to the network, and McMahon swooped in. The first hour of the telecast introduced viewers to the WWF champion Bob Backlund, including snippets of his bouts against “Superstar” Billy Graham, Ken Patera, Jesse Ventura, and Adrian Adonis. McMahon put over Backlund’s achievements, his work ethic, and his popularity. By showing his victories over Adonis and Ventura, well known in SCW and AWA territories respectively, he bolstered his credibility in non-WWF regions.
Notably, though, the WWF wasn’t a stranger to the USA Network. It had been broadcasting taped WWF footage from Madison Square Garden on Monday nights for some time, and the Sunday presentation gave them complete coverage. Adding in the reach of WOR, McMahon held a dominating share of the cable market with GCW’s program on WTBS being the only real national competitor. All-American Wrestling would ultimately become a compilation program with footage from the Garden, the regular Pennsylvania tapings, and, surprisingly, matches from outside WWF territories. Notwithstanding his dispute with NWA member Ole Anderson, McMahon featured bouts from Florida, World Class, and the Mid-Atlantic territories (all Alliance affiliates), plus matches from the AWA and Mid-South regions. McMahon talked up the wrestlers — Ric Flair, the Von Erichs, and Hulk Hogan among them — giving other promoters’ stars national exposure on his outlet.
The sharing of precious national TV time with fellow promoters was a gentlemanly maneuver for McMahon, and he certainly didn’t appear to be the impulsive threat people were making him out to be. That left two questions — did the McMahons only leave the NWA because of the WWF’s ongoing feud with GCW, and did they still plan to cooperate with Alliance members to ensure mutual prosperity? At the time, the answer to both questions seemed to be “yes,” and a high level of cooperation remained in place. Nevertheless, GCW wasn’t going to sit idly by. Ole Anderson poured his stars into Ohio cities and strengthened his talent-sharing relationship with Jim Crockett. But fans were going to choose which promotion to support in places like Cincinnati and Dayton, and with good competition, the wrestling public was undoubtedly the winner.
In a December 1983 article, sportswriter Michael Paolercio of the Cincinnati Enquirer didn’t offer an opinion regarding the wrestling war after witnessing a WWF show at the Cincinnati Gardens.114 He did, however, take a nonserious approach to the “pseudo mayhem,” and noted the passion of enthusiasts in the crowd. The madcap characters of the WWF inspired reaction; whether it was the simple awesomeness of Andre the Giant, the high-flying of Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka, or the aggressive behavior of Sgt. Slaughter, fans were usually fully connected to the action in the ring. Slaughter, who had made his return to the WWF earlier in the year after a lengthy absence, was one of the promotion’s top heels, and fans loved to shout “Gomer” in his direction. Other newcomers to the organization in August–September 1983 included the Masked Superstar, Tony Atlas, and the Iron Sheik, three former stars for GCW.
Again, there was no coincidence about these signings. McMahon wanted to use Anderson’s former wrestlers against him in Ohio, and this tactic would become a staple in the WWF arsenal. In terms of McMahon acquiring more territory, Detroit was high on the list, and its geographic location made it a central priority. Barnett’s history in the Motor City helped, and in the closing weeks and months of 1983, the WWF contacted George Cannon, the 51-year-old proprietor of the Superstars of Wrestling promotion to discuss a possible deal. Cannon, a former wrestler and manager, known for his Crybaby gimmick and his 300-plus-pound frame, was receptive to McMahon’s initial inquiry. His SOW promotion had seen the same decline that the Sheik had faced in Detroit, and despite great determination, he was unable to recapture its former glory.115 An amiable guy with far-reaching contacts in the business, Cannon had solid TV and arena contracts, but getting steady talent was a problem. He’d worked with groups from Montreal, Indianapolis, and elsewhere to attract a better turnout, without luck. He’d heard the rumors of GCW’s planned invasion of Detroit,
so striking a deal with McMahon made even more sense to him. McMahon sold Cannon on a three-way deal, with one-third going to Titan Sports, one-third to Cannon, and the remaining third to the Olympia Stadium Corporation, the administrator of Detroit’s two main venues, Cobo Hall and the Joe Louis Arena.116 For an annual take of upwards of $60,000, Cannon would remain involved in promotions, handling the local operations on behalf of the WWF. But there was another aspect to the agreement, one with far greater ramifications.
For years, Cannon ran a popular TV show entitled Superstars of Wrestling across Canada and parts of the U.S. He was still generating original content in 1983, and McMahon not only wanted to assume production rights to the local presentation on channel 9 (CBET) out of Windsor, but hoped to utilize the new program — also called Superstars of Wrestling — in other cities as well. Particularly, the show would be used as the WWF’s main telecast in newly signed markets. With remarkable production values, much more sophisticated than the grainy efforts of Cannon and other promotions, Superstars of Wrestling was going to make a powerful first impression on fans all over North America. Cannon agreed to the stipulations of the deal and primed Detroit for the WWF’s debut on December 30, 1983. On that evening, just over 2,000 people saw Andre the Giant, Jimmy Snuka, and Rocky Johnson win a three-fall victory over the Wild Samoans and Samula. On the undercard were two of Cannon’s stars, the Great Wojo and Chris Carter.
McMahon also added northern California to his circuit by achieving TV on channel 36 (KICU), serving the San Francisco Bay Area, and he ran a live event in San Jose on September 30, 1983. Inclement weather may have stifled the attendance, but 2,000 were on hand to see Andre the Giant topple Big John Studd and Jimmy Snuka beat Don Muraco by count-out. Regional favorite Pat Patterson was also on the card, winning over Alexis Smirnoff. Smirnoff, incidentally, participated in one of the WWF’s most memorable promotional efforts for San Jose, occurring during an appearance on channel 36’s Prize Movie TV show. Interviewed by host Steve Dini, Smirnoff became a bit rambunctious, and the two men launched into an unscripted and impromptu wrestling match on set. The chaotic scene was great publicity for the WWF, and nobody was hurt in the melee. Dini later said Smirnoff couldn’t have been nicer off-camera.117
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