McMahon’s multifaceted expansion campaign was working. He was increasing physical ground in terms of his wrestling circuit, boosting his television reach through basic cable and syndicated TV, enlarging his talent roster, and strengthening the international awareness of the WWF as an entertainment company. “Vince is just doing what everyone else wanted to do,” explained Red Bastien, a West Coast agent for the WWF. “It’s like lots of other things. One time there used to be a lot of small farms, with 20 acres, 40 acres. Then the co-ops came in and bought them up. Look at the oil companies and the food stores. They buy up the little ones. Wrestling isn’t any different from those. And wrestling is big time again. It’s reached a new height because of Vince’s marketing genius. Vince says he doesn’t have enemies; they do.”214
“They’re mad at me because now they have to work for a living,” McMahon told Sports Illustrated in 1985.215 In an interview with the Associated Press, he explained, “You’ve always had that territoriality. There is some carryover from that old era into what we’re doing now. We’ve encountered some difficulty in some markets.”216 Attendance was lower than anticipated in a few areas, causing McMahon to reanalyze his approach. But, on the whole, he was seeing great success. “It’s just become a real phenomenon,” said Larry Robinson, the box-office manager at the Anaheim Convention Center. “TV’s what’s making it. The TV people have figured out what the American people are watching and they’re causing it to happen. We had 8,900 seats for wrestling in February [1985]. And we filled them.”217
“Demographics,” McMahon told the Los Angeles Times, “they’re simply incredible, although ours are beyond what an MTV might be. Ours are about 18 to 40, and 40 percent of that is women. I’ve always maintained that our demographics are broad-based Americana. Really what we’re trying to do is put pro wrestling in the proper vehicles so that professional people will feel it’s all right to [enjoy]. I don’t think it’s a question of America suddenly awakening to a new phenomenon. They’re awakening to a new level of it.”218 In Los Angeles, the WWF’s 10 hours of television every weekend was certainly helping its cause. As amazing as that was, McMahon still wasn’t done trying to enhance his TV operations, specifically looking at a possible network deal as well as advancing into pay-per-view. By early 1985, these two goals were much more than a distant thought; they were really close to becoming a reality.
On the commercial broadcasting end of things, the WWF was attracting substantial attention, the most since the late 1940s, when televised pro wrestling first captured the public’s imagination. On March 17, 1985, SportsWorld did a feature episode on grappling. That same month, Vince McMahon had a high-profile interview on Late Night with David Letterman (March 28, 1985) and Hulk Hogan and Mr. T, co-star of the A-Team, hosted Saturday Night Live (March 30, 1985). All four programs were on NBC, and it was apparent there was a budding relationship between the network and the WWF. Officials soon began preliminary talks for a joint venture, and the return of pro wrestling to network TV appeared to be just around the corner. Meanwhile, the WWF’s media blitz in February and March 1985 was building toward the organization’s biggest program to date, WrestleMania, scheduled for March 31, 1985, at Madison Square Garden in New York.
Like Jim Crockett’s Starrcade or Jack Adkisson’s Star Wars, WrestleMania was billed as a one-of-a-kind spectacle highlighting the very best of the organization. That was absolutely true, but McMahon was ready to take the concept of a supershow to an entirely new plateau. He lined up celebrities like Muhammad Ali, Billy Martin, and Liberace, played up the Rock ’n’ Wrestling angle again with Cyndi Lauper, and launched a massive media campaign to hype WrestleMania everywhere. McMahon and his staff arranged an extensive array of closed-circuit television venues across the country and also stepped into the realm of pay-per-view for the first time. Pay-per-view, which gave fans the ability to watch live events from the comfort of their own homes, was in its infancy, and only a few cable outlets were offering the service.219 But “PPV” was definitely the wave of the future, and McMahon was on the ground floor.
In the main event of WrestleMania, Hogan and Mr. T beat Roddy Piper and Paul Orndorff, thrilling the 19,121 fans in attendance. Andre the Giant won over Big John Studd in a special bodyslam bout for a $15,000 prize. (Studd was managed by Bobby Heenan, a recent major signee from the AWA.) Junkyard Dog won by count-out over Intercontinental champion Greg Valentine, and fan favorites Barry Windham and Mike Rotundo dropped their tag team belts to Nikolai Volkoff and the Iron Sheik. In addition, the show featured a handful of newcomers, King Kong Bundy and manager Jimmy Hart among them. But the real surprise was Ricky Steamboat, a longtime employee of Jim Crockett, who’d debuted for McMahon earlier in March. Steamboat was a major addition to the promotion and a blow to the NWA at the same time. WrestleMania established a new benchmark for a pro wrestling extravaganza, and the bar was raised in each subsequent year.
In the weeks leading up to the first WrestleMania, a lot of uncertainty surrounded the event, with questions of whether it would achieve the kind of success needed for Titan Sports to meet its heavy financial obligations. In fact, McMahon was gambling with the future of his company by putting all of his eggs into one basket, and if the venture failed, Titan was likely facing bankruptcy. The public was unaware of the financial realities, but insiders had been wondering about the WWF’s ability to maintain its enormous operating costs for a while. It was rumored that Titan took a heavy financial loss in 1984 as its spending far exceeded its income.220
McMahon’s financial resources had been a mystery to pundits and his opposition since the wrestling war began. Wrestling insiders were amazed by the depth of his pockets as he acquired new TV outlets and talent, and his WrestleMania investment only added to the whispers. The northeastern wrestling circuit was known as the biggest moneymaker of all territories, and Vince McMahon Sr. had been considered one of the richest promoters in the business. There was speculation that McMahon Sr. had bequeathed his son millions of dollars, and it was that fortune McMahon Jr. was using to expand the WWF. But the truth was he was doing it all on his own without a grand inheritance, and by WrestleMania, he was deeply in debt. Titan Sports, however, wasn’t destined for failure, and McMahon’s shrewd maneuvering saved his company from financial insolvency.
A timely payment from Antonio Inoki’s New Japan Pro Wrestling, as compensation for WWF stars appearing for the latter’s promotion in Asia, was of considerable help.221 In recent months, things in that part of the world had become quite sticky when Hisashi Shinma, a matchmaker for Inoki, broke off and formed his own company, the UWF. Shinma had been acknowledged as the figurehead president of the WWF prior to Jack Tunney, and after breaking off relations with Inoki, he wanted to take his WWF ties with him. Inoki didn’t want to relinquish his lengthy association with McMahon and, ultimately, a new six-figure deal was signed that maintained the status quo.
McMahon worked out another deal involving his WTBS contract, adding to the economic lifeblood of his company at a crucial time. With Jim Barnett as a mediator, he agreed to sell his WTBS timeslots (and production contracts) to Jim Crockett Promotions for $1 million. Said to have made $500,000 on the transaction, McMahon didn’t walk away from Atlanta completely.222 He secured placement for the WWF on WAGA-TV and held local shows at the Omni Coliseum through July. Although the money garnered from New Japan and JCP was significant, McMahon wasn’t on the losing side of WrestleMania. The event grossed in the neighborhood of $4 to 6 million, though the total was inflated to $12 million in media reports.223
For McMahon, the good news kept pouring in. NBC came to terms for a pilot episode of Saturday Night’s Main Event, replacing Saturday Night Live on May 11, 1985, and if successful, additional programs were possible later in the year. The pre- and post-show coverage for WrestleMania, combined with news that wrestling was returning to network TV, gave the WWF incredible national publicity. Arena managers, television executives, insiders, and even the
wrestlers themselves were taking notice of the unparalleled heights McMahon had reached.
But not everyone was thrilled. Veteran sportswriter Bob Broeg called WrestleMania the “worst thing to hit wrestling since Gorgeous George” in the St. Louis Post Dispatch. He believed that Lou Thesz, at 68 years old, “probably could beat the show-business bums of the day,” and stated, “Maybe if Sam [Muchnick] had stayed on the job, Vince McMahon’s boy wouldn’t have muscled in from Broadway.”224 Many wondered how Muchnick, who left the business in 1982, would’ve dealt with McMahon’s rise if he had still been at the helm of the NWA. Having turned 79 in August 1984, Muchnick remained interested in the sport and watched the closed-circuit feed of WrestleMania at the Kiel Auditorium. Later, he admitted that he’d received “overtures from various circles to return” to his old job. “I don’t like the style in the ring these days,” he explained, “such as the knocking down of referees and fights breaking out outside the ring.”225 Both elements were commonplace in the WWF.
Nick Roberts, who promoted in West Texas for years, maintained that “Texas-style pro wrestling” was “more serious and sportsmanlike” than what McMahon had to offer. “To me, what he’s doing is a bizarre kind of thing,” Roberts said. “It’s like he’s making [wrestling] a burlesque nationally. But then he plays to huge metropolitan areas. The tempo of living and way of life is completely different.”226 George Cannon, a WWF-affiliate promoter in Detroit, praised McMahon as a businessman but wasn’t blown away by the sensationalism and gimmicks. “Personally, I don’t like it,” he explained, “but I understand their reasoning.”227 Former multiple-time world champion Killer Kowalski said it best in a 1985 article in the Burlington Free Press: “The bottom line is money, and if something works and will make money, I say do it. I give all the credit to Vince for the surge [of the WWF]. He’s done it himself.”228 But like many of his colleagues, Kowalski preferred the old style. “I think the people want to see wrestling,” he said. “They want to see holds, moves, and punches. Action is what they’re looking for. I can remember wrestling Bruno Sammartino for an hour once. I had a 90-minute match with Lou Thesz in Houston. I was exhausted after that. It just kept going and going and going. Now, the matches last two, three, four minutes. Sometimes they have a long match and it goes eight minutes. What the hell is that? There’s nothing involved there. There’s no wrestling going on, and that’s what the people are paying to see.”229 Washington Times journalist Dan Cox wrote, “The WWF is beginning to look more and more like a circus and less and less like a wrestling organization. It’s a shame the Three Stooges aren’t alive today, they would fit in perfect in the WWF.”230 The editor for Inside Wrestling, Max Rottersman, told a reporter in 1985, “In the long run, I think the WWF is going to fall flat on its face. They do the oddest things — with one hand they’re doing a lot for themselves, but with the other hand they’re taking it away.”231
Alliance promoters wanted to reassure fans that “real” pro wrestling was still alive and well. “Mr. T and rock singer Cyndi Lauper were used by the WWF [to] get them national attention,” Henry Robinson, an NWA affiliate promoter, told the Cleveland Plain Dealer. “They also used Muhammad Ali and Liberace at WrestleMania with the idea that they’d draw more people. What they’ve done is wrong. You won’t catch the NWA using singers and actors to get attention. Fans come to pro wrestling matches to see wrestling, and using an actor like Mr. T in a wrestling match isn’t fair to wrestling fans. You know, most of the WWF wrestlers, Hulk Hogan and Rowdy Roddy Piper included, were once with the NWA. Hogan is very muscular, but our NWA champion, Ric Flair, doesn’t have to flex his muscles and pose in the ring. He wrestles.”232 And for many people, that was the most important difference of all.
Chapter Thirteen
The Only Game in Town
Heading into 1985, the territorial system was at its weakest point in decades, and only a handful of promoters were maintaining a level of competitiveness with McMahon. Elsewhere, it was just a matter of survival. The Florida territory had seen its share of turmoil, but was one of the strongest affiliates of the NWA, and remained a viable force under the leadership of Eddie Graham. Like many other old-time promoters, Graham hated how the business was changing and was defending two of his cities (Miami and Jacksonville) from WWF aggression. But a number of his stars had left for more profitable opportunities, Dusty Rhodes among them, and a combination of factors, some personal and some business, left Graham deeply depressed. Six days after his 55th birthday, on January 21, 1985, Graham died from self-inflicted wounds. The news couldn’t have been sadder to the wrestling community and the scores of people he’d either influenced or helped through his extensive philanthropy. “There’s never been a man better known or better liked in this industry, worldwide,” Jack Adkisson told a reporter for the Orlando Sentinel.233 Mike Graham did his utmost to follow in his father’s footsteps. “I loved my dad and he was my best friend until the day he died,” Mike said in a 2004 article. “Everyone in the industry respected my father.”234 With Graham’s death, Championship Wrestling from Florida passed into the hands of trusted veterans Hiro Matsuda and Duke Keomuka, and the region maintained its fundamental strengths.
The Freebirds reunited in Florida in January 1985 as fan favorites but turned heel two months later to feud with Mike Graham, Bugsy McGraw, and Brian Blair. Blair, a native of Tampa and a protégé of Graham and Matsuda, had spent nine months in the WWF the year before but never got above the undercard. He captured both the Florida and Southern heavyweight championships during the first half of 1985. Another homegrown talent, Hercules Hernandez, a powerlifter with immense might, also won both of Florida’s main singles belts, going over Blair in May and Hector Guerrero in June. Hernandez’s time in the Florida promotion was cut short after a backstage fight with booker Wahoo McDaniel in July, and he was dismissed.
McDaniel’s jump to Florida came after a lengthy tour of the Mid-Atlantic region for the Crockett Family. In June 1984, he turned heel and, on October 7, won his fifth and last United States heavyweight championship. He reigned until March 23, 1985, when he lost the strap to up-and-comer Magnum T.A. in Charlotte. McDaniel and Ricky Steamboat were big losses for Crockett, but JCP was being revitalized by the work of Magnum T.A., Tully Blanchard, and Nikita Koloff. Arn Anderson arrived from the Southeast territory and formed a successful tag team with his “relative” Ole Anderson, and with Dusty Rhodes and Ric Flair added to the bill, Crockett was flying high once again. Ole Anderson’s full-time position in the company was interesting, coming as a result of Crockett buying Ole’s Championship Wrestling from Georgia upstart group. Thus, JCP inherited control of the National heavyweight, tag team, and TV titles.
At the same time, Crockett assumed the rights to Anderson’s TV outlets and venues in Georgia (including Atlanta), Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Maryland. The expansion was important, and Crockett knew the growth of his syndication network to would help balance out his heavy cable TV presence on WTBS. He landed stations in Philadelphia (WPHL-17) and Los Angeles (KDOC-56), opening up the door for targeted promotions and live events. JCP debuted in Philadelphia on February 5, 1985, with former WWF champion Bob Backlund in the main event as a tag partner for Rhodes against Ron Bass and Black Bart. JCP also went into Anderson’s old haunts of Pittsburgh, Altoona, and Baltimore for the first time. Crowds were anywhere from 500 to nearly 6,000, a little better in Baltimore, and Crockett Promotions sold out the CYO Center in Trenton, New Jersey, with more than 1,700 fans on February 14.
Elliot Murnick, one of Crockett’s key associate promoters, explained to a local Trenton reporter the difference between their promotion and the WWF: “We try to give the fans what the marquee says — wrestling. We work on the premise that these people are our loyal viewers, and we want to give them the chance to see the best. This is our way of saying thanks. We’re not in competition with the WWF, although they probably feel we are. We want to give the fans an alternative.” Local promoter John Milligan w
as delighted by the ticket sales, and George O’Gorman, of the Trentonian newspaper, deemed the show “impressive.”235 Press coverage was quite the opposite in Pittsburgh. On May 28, 1985, Gerry Dulac ripped NWA wrestling in the Pittsburgh Press, the day after a Crockett program at Three Rivers Stadium. The headline attraction was Ric Flair defending his world title against Magnum T.A., and the Nature Boy retained by disqualification in 56 minutes of action. In another bout, Tully Blanchard and Dusty Rhodes battled to a double count-out. Dulac wrote, “This was the NWA, the rival organization that takes fading stars . . . from the World Wrestling Federation and attempts to turn them into drawing cards.” He noted that Hulk Hogan was the real world champion and asked, “When was the last time someone saw Ric Flair on stage at the Grammy Awards?” He added, “In essence, the NWA is doing nothing more than hoping the popularity of the WWF will eventually spill over into its ranks, waiting for the day its wrestlers can make videos with [Cyndi] Lauper.”236
In response, incensed fans wrote letters to the editor, and two were published in the June 2 edition of the paper. “Since when has appearing at the Grammys been a necessary facet to become a fine wrestler?” one asked. “The NWA appeals to the diehard wrestling fan, who just enjoys watching a good match of mayhem and chaos,” wrote another. “The WWF, on the other hand, appeals to both the diehard fan and those who like to be involved with the ‘in’ thing. Wrestling, as promoted by the WWF, is definitely ‘in,’ but this audience consists of those who know nothing of the sport. Dulac is obviously from that audience.”237 With attendance of 2,500, JCP’s stadium effort in Pittsburgh proved to be a financial failure. Such an endeavor made much more sense in Charlotte, and on July 6, 1985, JCP drew 27,000 fans to Memorial Stadium for the Great American Bash. Ric Flair went over Nikita Koloff and Dusty Rhodes topped Tully Blanchard in a cage, winning the NWA world TV title in the process. The Road Warriors, the reigning AWA world tag champs, wrestled their NWA counterparts, Ivan Koloff and Krusher Khruschev, to a double-disqualification. The appearance of Hawk and Animal illustrated that the on-again, off-again relationship between Crockett and Verne Gagne was on. In fact, the AWA and JCP were working together in the Northeast, pairing talent to boost the box office. One of their biggest assets was Sgt. Slaughter, who abruptly left the WWF in December 1984 in the wake of various differences, including his percentage of merchandising for his character.
Death of the Territories Page 17