The Three Count

by Jimmy Korderas

  At the end of the show Bobby Heenan came up to me, still laughing, shook my hand, and patted me on the back. He said, “It’s not that you split your pants open in the middle of a match that I find funny, it was the expression on your face and fact that you no-sold it that was hilarious.” He then told me I did the right thing by continuing as if nothing happened. “You couldn’t very well take a time-out to go change your pants. By the way, whose giant pants were you wearing for the other match?” he said, giggling.

  I told him that I had borrowed them from Terry Yorkston and that from now on, I would have another pair in my gear bag.

  He smiled and said, “See, kid, you’re learning. Never stop learning in this business. The day you think you know it all, it’s time for you to leave. Good job tonight.”

  Wow! What great advice from the one and only Bobby “The Brain” Heenan. To this day, I have not forgotten those words. I always prided myself on being a sponge, trying to absorb and learn as much as I could, and have done so throughout my career. Thanks, Brain — to this day, he is still one of my favourite people that I have had the pleasure of knowing. Not just in the wrestling business, but in life.

  Gorilla, on the other hand, was a little more father-like with his assessment of my reffing work. He said I did fine with not letting my mishap distract me from my job but that in the future, I should be better prepared in the event of a repeat occurrence. He also said that to avoid something like that happening again, I should buy pants that were not so tight. I agreed and thanked him for his help. He patted me on the back as well and told me that I would be just fine and to keep working hard. I told him I would and thanked him again.

  My very first Maple Leaf Gardens match didn’t quite go the way I had hoped but it was a true learning experience. Of course, lesson number one: buy loose-fitting pants and wear black under them. I always did from that day forward. This was really only the beginning. The best was yet to come and, brother, did I have a blast. I know somewhere in the video archives of the WWF/E television studios, my blue butt lives forever.

  Chapter 4

  Making a Splash?

  Things were beginning to look up with regards to my further involvement with the WWF, partly due to some unforeseen circumstances. The first occurrence that expanded my duties was Jack Tunney’s eye surgery. It required him to wear dark glasses and also precluded him from driving his car for a few weeks. When the WWF held their TV tapings within a ten-hour drive of his home base in Toronto, Jack preferred driving there instead of flying. As I mentioned earlier, Jack was the figurehead president of the WWF at that time so he was needed at every taping. Usually he was accompanied by his longtime friend and confidant Billy “Red” Lyons. He and Red would split the driving to and from TV.

  Before I get further into this story, let me tell you a little about the man who hired me. Jack Tunney is the nephew of one of the most respected promoters in all of wrestling, Frank Tunney. Jack’s father, John, was a partner in the promotion with Frank. The brothers began promoting wrestling events out of their office directly across the street from the famed Maple Leaf Gardens. John passed away at the young age of 32. Frank continued to promote wrestling until his passing in 1983. Jack and Frank’s son Ed Tunney took over the reins together, with Jack as the front man while Ed kept a lower profile. My eventual good friend Elio Zarlenga worked closely with the Tunneys as kind of their right-hand man.

  For years, the Tunneys’ main source of talent was a mixture of well-known local wrestlers as well as top stars from Jim Crockett Promotions, based in North Carolina. As the promotional battle between the WWF and the NWA heated up, Crockett felt the need to keep his top talent closer to home to combat the juggernaut that was the WWF. Without the bigger names from the NWA appearing on MLG cards, crowds dwindled. Jack saw the writing on the wall. He made the decision to join forces with Vince McMahon Jr. and become the WWF’s head promoter for Canadian tours. This alliance seemed logical not only from a business standpoint but from a personal one as well. Frank Tunney and Vincent McMahon Sr. were not only business associates, they were good friends. So it only made sense their families would continue their relationship.

  Jack was then named figurehead president of the WWF, a role that was primarily a television persona. Jack was likely chosen because he was a large man who looked very authoritative and in command at all times. Always well dressed and businesslike, he definitely looked the part and fit the role very well. That’s where his backstage power ended. Of course he had some say on whom he could request to appear on his shows; his actual role was that of a regional promoter. Unfortunately for Jack, his run with the WWF ended in 1995 when Vince chose to run shows in Canada without any involvement from the Tunneys. Although I do not know the reason why, I do know Jack was forced out of the WWF and retired from promoting wrestling. There were rumours of Jack aligning himself with WCW to run against the WWF but as far as I know, they were just that, rumours. Jack disappeared from the wrestling scene. I hadn’t heard anything about his whereabouts until Dave Hebner informed me in early 2004 that Jack had passed away. He told me a week after it had happened. I was not only sad to hear that the man who had given me my first job in wrestling had died, I was disappointed that I had been unable to attend his funeral.

  I never got to say it, but thank you, Jack, for taking a chance on a young kid with big dreams and no clue what he was getting into.

  Okay, back to the story. Jack called me one day and asked if I would meet him at his office. I told him of course and made my way downtown. When I got there, he explained to me that because of his eye surgery, he wasn’t able to drive to upcoming TV events. He then asked me if I was available to join him and Red on their next trip to help with the driving. Jack also thought it would be a good idea for me to bring my referee gear because you never knew when you might be needed. Not only that, it would be good for me to be seen and to meet people who worked for the WWF that I would not generally get to meet at house shows. I jumped at the chance and told Jack that I would be more than happy to help them out. It didn’t hurt that I was getting paid for it as well, but even if I hadn’t been, it was a great opportunity to get noticed, and I was not going to pass that up.

  Just as I was about to leave Jack’s office he added one more reason why he wanted me to accompany him and Red on their road trips. Jack told me that Red was notorious for driving not one mile per hour above the posted speed limit. Not only that, Red made frequent coffee stops, which according to Jack added to their travel time. He hoped that with me taking over much of the driving and with Red sitting in the back seat, maybe there would be less frequent coffee stops. When I laughed at what Jack said about his buddy, he looked at me seriously and said, “I’m not kidding. Red is the safest driver I know — sometimes a little too safe.” Then he smiled and said, “Thank you, James, talk to you soon.” Jack often called me James. He was the only one to call me James and it never sounded odd or out of place to me. It was actually cool in a way.

  My first road trip with Jack and Red was to the television tapings first in South Bend, Indiana, for WWF Superstars. The next day took us to Rockford, Illinois, for a taping of Wrestling Challenge. It was actually in Rockford that I made my syndicated television debut. It was not as a referee but rather as an attendant. It was after the match where the Ugandan Giant Kamala had soundly defeated Moondog Spot. Moondog was left lying in the ring and I was one of the ringside attendants helping to stretcher him out. For me, that was an awesome moment. I called everyone I knew to tell them that I would be on television. I don’t think they quite understood my excitement over being a stretcher bearer. Nevertheless, in my mind I was on my way to becoming a regular on TV. Just not quite the way I had envisioned.

  I made several more road trips with those two and ended up doing the majority of the driving. Even back then, I was a terrible passenger. I preferred being the guy behind the wheel and to this day, that still applies. We journeyed to many plac
es that I had never been to before, some interesting and some not so much. On one trip through Pennsylvania on our way to Hershey, the Chocolate Capital of America, we passed a sign that read Intercourse 11 miles, with an arrow pointing to the left. We were near Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and when I saw the sign, I turned to my two passengers and said, “So, am I making a left or is that place just a tourist trap?”

  Red laughed, while Jack had this look of someone who was not amused by the comment. He might have found my attempt at humour funnier had we not been terribly lost. Yes, I had made a wrong turn somewhere an hour or so prior which added almost three hours to the trip. Red didn’t mind as long as we stopped for a six-pack. As it turned out, as well as coffee Red also liked to indulge in a brewski or two. Jack just wanted to get to our destination and check into the hotel so he could get some rest. You may think that being a passenger even in your own car is relaxing, but that is not true, especially for larger individuals, and Jack definitely fit into that category. Anyway, in my mind, it was probably one of the funniest road signs I have ever seen. We finally made it to our destination, Hershey, P.A., checked into our hotel, and crashed for the night. I will say this about Jack’s choice of hotels; everywhere we travelled we stayed at only good and clean hotels. Maybe not always a high-end brand-name establishment but for sure the quality was there.

  Unfortunately for me, on this particular trip I did not make it onto TV. No stretcher bearing, no cleanup in the aisle, not a darn thing. I was really only mildly disappointed because at the same time I realized that I was making contacts with WWF personnel and the crew, as well as getting to know the talent better. I was truly enjoying myself. Now it may sound to some like my only objective was to be on television but that was not the case at all. I just thought it was cool to make the occasional cameo that I could brag to my friends and family about. Who wouldn’t want to be on TV? Plus, it beats working a “real” job. My father said to me once that if you like your job and you enjoy going to work every day, you are one lucky person and I knew how fortunate I was to be associated with this group.

  Things were going very well for me as I continued to be a part of the Canadian ring crew as well as referee matches on those shows. The thing I found kind of odd was that Jack had told me that I would accompany him and Red because of Jack’s eye surgery; several months had passed and Jack’s eyesight was just fine but he still had me driving with them to the TV tapings that they did not fly to. There had to be a reason why I was still performing this duty. I never found out why it continued but I wasn’t going to complain. Then it happened. The day I had been waiting for finally arrived.

  It was June 1987 and on this trip, the three of us were driving to the television tapings in Glens Falls and Lake Placid, New York. As usual, I brought my referee gear, thinking it would not get used as was the norm at TV. On this day, though, things changed that impacted me for the rest of my career. Let me explain the situation that led to my TV reffing debut. John Bonello was a Canadian referee and appeared on WWF Superstars and Wrestling Challenge every week. It was never made clear to me why but the WWF wanted a Canadian presence on the TV shows, particularly the ones that aired in Canada. I always assumed it was because of the Canadian content rules that apply to stations in this country. In a nutshell, this means Canadian TV and radio stations have to air a certain percentage of what they deem “Canadian content.” That could mean shows shot and produced in Canada or having Canadian performers. I may be mistaken but I was under the assumption that was the reason for having a referee from Canada on the show. He would be considered a performer and thus labelled as “Canadian content.”

  John had been refereeing at every TV taping for a while now. The WWF flew him in for the tapings when it was too far for him to drive. They also paid for his rental car and hotel rooms. All travel expenses were taken care of and the only thing he had to pay for was food and booze. Of course on TV days there was catering so if got your fill there, it would limit your food cost away from the arenas. Anyway, at the previous tapings in New Jersey, John ran into some flight trouble and no-showed the scheduled TVs. Flight delays and cancellations are very much a part of the wrestling business. It is inevitable that it will happen sooner or later. From what I was told, John made one small error in judgement; he didn’t call anyone to let them know of his dilemma. This did not sit very well with the bosses. They were surprised that someone with so many years of experience as a wrestler and a referee would not inform anyone of the situation. One rule you learn almost immediately when you begin in the business is if you run into any kind of trouble and you know you will be late or even not make it to the venue for the show, you need to notify the proper people or person. The “office” was not satisfied with John’s explanation of what happened and they decided not to bring him to a few television tapings as a sort of punishment. After all, what would happen to anyone if they just didn’t show up for work without calling or giving a valid reason for being absent? I think we all know the answer to that.

  Not to sound like Captain Cliché, but one person’s loss is another person’s gain, and being in Glens Falls, New York, that day was my gain. I was approached by the man responsible for starting me on my refereeing career, Pat Patterson. He asked me if I had brought my gear with me. I did but I had left my bag at the hotel a few blocks away. I wasn’t going to tell Pat that, so I just nodded and said that I did indeed have my gear. He told me to put it on because I would be working. I was ecstatic. I was finally going to get my chance to referee on TV and be seen back home. I found the nearest exit and took off running towards the hotel where my bag was. I must have broken some land speed records because I was back at the arena changing into my ref clothes in no time. After getting dressed, it was time to get my ref assignments for the three weeks’ worth of programming.

  I set out to find the other referees to find out which matches I’d be reffing. I don’t remember how many other refs were also working that night. I do recall Joey Marella being the one who informed me which matches I had. Joey was the son of Gorilla Monsoon. Even though he had that New Jersey swagger about him, he was very helpful in getting me to relax. As you may have guessed, I was very nervous to say the least. Dave Hebner was also there, which made me more at ease because I had known Dave for over a year by this point and we had become good friends. As a matter of fact, Dave pretty much took me under his wing and mentored me throughout my career. I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher. There was one more referee there that evening that I remember. Jack Lotz was assigned to the event by the New York State Athletic Commission. Jack was not your ordinary ref from the Commission. He was very cooperative, unlike others who were known by those in the WWF as “Commission Refs,” which wasn’t a flattering label to have. Jack was different; he was a very nice man who was more than willing to help a young greenhorn like myself. He was also a licensed professional boxing referee, which I found interesting. Then I found out that he had been in the boxing movie Raging Bull, starring Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci. How cool was that! He downplayed it when I asked him about it. He was a real humble guy who I got to know pretty well over the years, a real class act. There may have been other referees working that night but those three are the only ones I can recall.

  Later on, Hebner asked me if I was okay with the matches I had been given to work and I said that everything was fine. His final instructions were on how to get the time cues from the timekeeper at ringside. It was not a complicated process and I assumed that I would pick it up in no time at all. I just had to remember to look in the direction of the timekeeper every so often during the match and to let the wrestlers know how much time was remaining. It didn’t always work out that way. My very first WWF television match involved George “The Animal” Steele versus an enhancement talent — in other words, a guy who makes the superstar look like a superstar. During this match, I totally blanked on giving the Animal time cues. George kept staring at me and I just stared back, thinking it was part
of his character. He did portray a wild and unpredictable wrestler, so I just chalked it up to him doing his thing. After tearing open one of the corner pads and pretending to eat the stuffing, which was one of his trademarks along with having a green tongue, he turned to his opponent and placed him in his finishing move, the Flying Chicken Wing. It goes without saying, that maneuver was very painful, or at least appeared to be. The no-name wrestler submitted; I called for the bell and went over to raise the Animal’s hand in victory. As I did just that, George had other plans. Suddenly he dropped to the ground, locked his legs around my ankles, and sent me falling backwards to the canvas. Shocked, I scurried out of the ring and George proceeded to chase me to the backstage area. Once we got there he came over to me and said, “Did I scare you?”

  I said, “Yeah, a little.”

  “Well, maybe next time you won’t forget to give me the time cues!” he snapped.

  I apologized for not giving him the cues and assured him it wouldn’t happen again. Just as he was about to walk away, he turned to me, smiled, and said, “I’m just messing with you. I really do need you to give me those cues but I’m not mad. Just ribbing the new kid.”

  What a relief! The last thing I wanted to do was to piss off one of the boys, especially one of the veterans. Just as I was getting over that fiasco, Pat Patterson came up to me and informed me that there was a change and that I would be refereeing the One Man Gang’s match in the final hour of the taping. He said to find out what the Gang wanted to do. Now the One Man Gang, whose real name was George Gray, was six foot eight inches tall and close to 400 pounds, with a mohawk and tattoos on the shaved portion of his scalp. He was one scary-looking dude but in reality, he was super nice. I always thought how amazing it was that so many of the boys were so unlike their wrestling personas.