by Bill Gutman
Blassie was enraged. He was like a wild man, yelling at everyone and even attacking the referee. When he spotted Eddie Graham again he placed the blame for his loss on the other wrestler.
"It's your fault I lost this match," he bellowed. "I had the guy beat. Now I'm gonna tear you apart."
It took several ring officials and auxiliary police to keep the two grapplers apart. It wasn't long after, however, that Blassie started all over again, proclaiming to be the real champ and that he was robbed, and that he would take care of Eddie Graham, Lou Thesz, and anyone else who wanted his title.
That was Freddie Blassie, all right. Oddly enough, though, part of what he said was true. He was very close to beating Thesz. Ringside observers saw how weak and shaky the champ seemed after the second fall. If only Blassie hadn't been distracted by Eddie Graham. If only he had kept his cool and concentrated on the match. If only . . .
But he wouldn't have been Freddie Blassie if he did. Like many wrestlers who claim they are the greatest, they often prove their own worst enemy. Blassie had the title within his grasp and, because of a strange turn of events, let it slip away.
HYPE OR TRIPE?
Most people who followed the rise of the World Wrestling Federation as an East Coast phenomenon in the mid-1980s have attributed its popularity to one man: the huge, charismatic champion Hulk Hogan. And indeed the Hulkster may be the most recognizable grappler of his era. Perhaps even its wealthiest, with all the commercial spinoffs on his name and reputation.
But there are those insiders who say the WWF would never have attained its mass appeal had it not been for one Rowdy Roddy Piper. What! Roddy Piper? Wait a minute. Isn't he the WWF's resident villain, one of the most hated men in wrestling? Yes, that's true. And while it sounds incredible at first, the entire rise of the WWF as a real wrestling superpower may have been orchestrated by Rowdy Roddy with a little help from his friends.
Though it may come as a surprise to some, Roddy Piper's background in wrestling is extensive. This native of Glasgow, Scotland, began wrestling at the age of six. By the time he was 16 he was beginning his pro career in Canada. And within four years he became the lightweight champion of the world. He was the youngest wrestler ever to achieve that honor. Legitimate credentials, to be sure.
Yet when Roddy Piper arrived on the WWF scene in 1983, he was not an active grappler. Strange as it may seem, the Rowdy one was mainly a manager, handling "Mr. Wonderful," Paul Orndorff, and "Mr. D," David Shultz. The only noise Piper made then was with his mouth. And boy was he good at that, so good that it wasn't long before he was asked to host his own interview show within the WWF telecasts. It was aptly called "Piper's Pit," and it proved a springboard for Piper and the WWF.
The man everyone loves to hate, Rowdy Roddy Piper.
For those who know the recent history of the WWF, and even for those who are more general wrestling fans, the list of Rowdy Roddy's actions from the "Pit" have laid the groundwork for much of the WWF action that has taken place since his arrival.
1. He began feuds with such good-guy wrestlers as Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka, Tony Atlas, Sergeant Slaughter, Hulk Hogan, and Andre the Giant.
2. He expressed his disdain for rock star Cyndi Lauper, who was an avowed wrestling freak and manager of women's champ Wendi Richter.
3. He found proof to dispute claims by Captain Lou Albano that Albano had helped write some of Ms. Lauper's hit songs and was the mastermind behind Lauper's career. This precipitated a temporary feud between Albano and Cyndi Lauper.
4. He found a way to infuriate television personality Mr. T, drawing him into the ring and prompting him to get directly involved in ring combat as a tag-team partner with Hulk Hogan. The champ, by the way, also despises Piper.
5. He disrupted a gold record presentation to Cyndi Lauper by seizing the record and smashing it over the head of Captain Lou Albano, then claiming he hated rock and roll. This further infuriated Hulk Hogan and Mr. T.
6. Because of all the feuds and hatreds he created, Piper became the top attraction at the big Wrestlemania show in 1985, which featured a tag-team match between Piper and Paul Orndorff, Hulk Hogan, and Mr. T. It was one of the most successful wrestling promotions of all time.
So the list of Rowdy Roddy's dubious, but effective, achievements continues to grow. He's been voted the most hated wrestler in the WWF, but the fans flock to see him perform. And with his incredible gift of gab and the forum of the "Pit," Roddy Piper has emerged as a wrestling phenomenon and a household name. His ability inside the squared circle has always been suspect, but if you let him start talking, watch out!
LIKE FATHER, UNLIKE SON
Most fathers can't be any prouder than to have a son follow in their footsteps. And most sons who do follow in their fathers' footsteps are equally proud of their dads' accomplishments. But leave it to the world of professional wrestling to produce its own unusual version of fathers and sons.
Of course, there are some standard relationships. David Sammartino is now carrying on the family name for his retired champion father, Bruno. Angelo Mosca, Jr., joined the ring wars while Angelo, Sr., continued to grapple. They even use the same name. Mike Graham makes no secret that his father is the legendary Eddie Graham.
But then there's Blackjack Mulligan, Sr., and Blackjack Mulligan, Jr. Wait a minute! You say you never heard of Blackjack Mulligan, Jr.? And you can't remember Blackjack Mulligan using "Sr." after his name? Well, you're right. There is no Blackjack
Mulligan, Jr., at least not registered with any of the wrestling federations. You see, Blackjack Mulligan's son wrestles under the name Barry Windham!
It's one of the strangest father-son relationships in all of sport. Barry Windham apparently wanted to make it on his own. He didn't want to float in on anyone's coattails. And perhaps it's even more important that
his style was distinctly different from that of his father.
Blackjack is a brawler, a rough, tough veteran who knows every trick in the book and can rumble with the best of them. Barry Windham, on the other hand, is a scientific wrestler who rarely breaks the rules, or at least that's how he started out. But after capturing the Florida heavyweight title and the Southern heavyweight championship, Barry was injured in an auto accident and had to give up his titles.
When he recovered and could wrestle again, Barry decided to mend some fences. He took a new tag-team partner. His name: Blackjack Mulligan. At first, the father didn't think it was a good idea.
"I'm the type of wrestler who attracts enemies," Blackjack said. "Why should Barry inherit my enemies? They're my problem, not his."
Barry Windham disagreed. He said the same kind of guys would come after him sooner or later, whether it was to get revenge on Blackjack or not. "I've got my own reputation," he said. "And I'm at the point where I attract top rulebreakers. I'm on my own now and being your son isn't my only claim to fame."
So father and son joined forces and became an effective team, winning a number of titles down South. The partnership was especially profitable for Barry Windham. He learned a great deal from his more experienced father and it made him a more resourceful wrestler. Now he was ready to handle any kind of attack and to better deal with the rulebreakers.
But in the fragile world of wrestling, egos can do strange things. Soon father and son had a falling out and a parting of the ways. Before long, new fans once again had no idea that Barry Windham was Blackjack Mulligan's son. In fact, the few times they were in the same area, there was always someone suggesting the two meet. After all, fans always love to see a tough, grizzled veteran meet a scientific, clean-cut youngster. Of course, that never happened.
Barry was right about one thing. He was making enemies on his own. He returned to Florida and recaptured the Southern heavyweight title. That's when a feud developed between young Windham and the rulebreaking grapplers managed by the devious J. J. Dillon. Barry had to cope with the likes of Angelo Mosca, Sr., The Purple Haze, Frank Dusek, and Kevin Sullivan.
Se
eing the problems his son was having, Blackjack decided to bury the hatchet once more. Seems as if the blood bond between the two was stronger than their different ring philosophies and respective egos. So Blackjack came south and brought with him his good friend Dusty Rhodes. Joining Windham, the three waged war against Dillon's forces in a series of extremely rough-and-tumble matches.
The popular and powerful Kerry Von Erich.
When the two parted again, it was not only as father and son, but as friends, each willing to help the other whenever help was needed. So this strangest of father-son relationships continues. Now it is one of mutual respect. Maybe it had to be this way, for Barry Windham was able to get out of his father's shadow early, forge his own way with his own style, and make it on his own.
THE ONE AND ONLY ROCCA
Wrestling fans today are used to seeing their favorites flying around the ring. When a barefooted Jimmy "Supertly" Snuka climbs onto the top of the ring posts and flies through the air, the fans gasp with the electricity of the moment. It's almost incredible to see such a big, muscular man perform almost unbelievable ring acrobatics.
But it had to come from somewhere. After all, there was a time when wrestlers stayed pretty much in the center of the ring, locking horns in mortal combat. That was before Antonino Rocca came on the scene in the late 1940s. Rocca was a native of Italy who had grown up in Argentina. He was the first significant wrestler to enter the ring barefooted, and it didn't take fans and opponents long to find out why.
Rocca wrestled as much with his feet and legs as with his arms. He bounced around the ring like a gazelle, often doing handstands and swatting his opponents with a foot. He was an acrobat, a high flyer who used the ring ropes as a launching pad to clobber his opponents. His flying drop-kick was a sight to behold, and bigger, stronger men were dazzled by Rocca's high-flying tactics.
In the 1950s, when pro wrestling was often on television, Rocca was the main attraction. One promoter claimed that with the exception of Mr. Television, Milton Berle, Antonino Rocca sold more television sets in the 1950s than any other personality: Wrestling fans all across the country knew that to be held in the "Argentine Backbreaker" meant the match was over and Rocca was the winner again.
Rocca retired in 1968 and returned to Argentina. But in 1975 he returned to the U.S. as a commentator and once again felt the lure of the ring. He got together with his old tag-team partner, Miguel Perez, and the two surprised the wrestling world by winning the North American tag-team championship from the Infernos.
When the duo lost the title, Rocca retired again. On February 17, 1977, there was a night in his honor in New York as a grateful Rocca signed autographs and refereed the main event of the evening. He seemed genuinely happy that so many people remembered and loved him. Two days later, Rocca entered Roosevelt Hospital in New York, where shortly afterward a shocked wrestling world learned that he had died.
But all those who saw Rocca wrestle in the 1950s and '60s will never forget him. To them, the barefooted grappler from Argentina may have been the most incredible wrestler who ever lived.
GOOD GUYS, BAD GUYS, GOOD GUYS . . . GET IT STRAIGHT!
There have been a number of pro wrestlers who have switched horses in midstream. For one reason or another, they have gone from good to bad, or bad to good. But seldom do they switch back again. Yet there was once a wrestler who went from a popular hero, to a "maniac," and finally straightened out his act once more.
It's a storybook beginning. Once upon a time there was a clean-cut college wrestler at the University of Buffalo. As he contended in his amateur bouts at the University, he noticed there was a young boy at all his matches who seemed to admire him greatly. Don Curtis never forgot his young fan, and even thought about him occasionally after he began his professional career.
Big Don still had that clean-cut image as a pro. He was one of the good guys and always a crowd favorite. Several years after he turned pro, Don Curtis noticed a young wrestler who was also from Buffalo. The kid looked familiar. After a quick conversation, Don Curtis knew why. The youngster's name was Mark Lewin, and he was the same kid who used to watch Don so closely at the university.
The storybook tale continued. Don Curtis and Mark Lewin became fast friends, and before long they decided to team up. The result was one of the best tag-team combinations in wrestling, good enough to win the United States Tag-Team Championship.
Curtis and Lewin were the good guys, and heavy favorites whenever they met the resident villains. They could handle any kind of rulebreaking wrestlers, and their teamwork was a thing to behold. It got so that no one could think of Don Curtis without Mark Lewin, and vice versa. They were a team and they seemed inseparable.
But then the inevitable happened. Since nothing goes on forever, Don and Mark decided to split and try it on their own for a while. Time passed and Don was unfortunately injured in the ring. While he was recuperating, an old friend, another grappler, came by to visit him. The man had been wrestling in Texas and what he told Don Curtis shocked him into silence.
"Your old sidekick, Lewin, is really causing a stir down in Texas," the man said. "He's just about the most unpopular wrestler in the whole state. His nickname down there is 'Maniac' Mark Lewin."
Curtis was still in a depressed mood the next day when he had another visitor. To his great surprise, Mark Lewin walked in, looking much the same as he had when he left. He certainly didn't appear to be a maniac. He told Don that he had heard about his injury and wanted to help him settle the score with the men who did it, a tag team known as the Assassins.
But finally Don Curtis could contain himself no longer. He asked his former partner about the stories from Texas about "Maniac" Mark Lewin. Reluctantly, Mark Lewin admitted they were true. But what was it that changed an all-American boy into a maniac? Only the world of professional wrestling can do something like that.
It seems that after Lewin and Curtis split up, Mark went out on his own, and in Kansas City had a series of brutal matches with a chronic rulebreaker. Not only did he learn a slew of dirty tricks, he found himself badly injured with time to think. What he decided was that no one would treat him like that again, and he'd do whatever was necessary to prevent it.
Once he recovered and went to Texas, Lewin put his new theories into practice and was booed for the first time in his career. Then came a series of matches with local hero Cowboy Bob Ellis, a series that rapidly developed into a feud. Ellis was one of the most popular grapplers in the state. To the fans, he could do no wrong, and this drove Lewin to greater extremes. So by the time he was through with Ellis, the "Maniac" title had been put before his name.
Still Don Curtis believed in his old friend. He willingly accepted him as a partner again and the two went to work. When they met the Assassins, they gave the masked villains one of their worst beatings ever, and they did it without chronic rulebreaking. Working with Don Curtis again had taught Mark Lewin an invaluable lesson.
"I learned from the man I have always admired the most that it's possible to be injured deliberately and get back at the guys who did it, yet still remain a gentleman in the ring."
So Mark Lewin returned to Texas to settle some scores, but he didn't go back as the "Maniac." He was once again the wrestler he had been when he first teamed with Don Curtis to form one of the great tag teams of our time. And the good guy who had become a bad guy was a good guy once more in the often tangled, but always amazing world of wrestling.
IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?
One of the traits all great athletes have in common is that they can play in pain. Wrestlers are no exception. Getting into the ring several times a week can certainly be hazardous to your health. The average guy couldn't take the repeated bodyslams and drop kicks, the headlocks and abdominal stretches, not to mention getting hurled over the ropes and out of the ring.
But that's the life of a wrestler and some of them have really shown valor beyond the call of duty. One of the most amazing instances of the show going o
n despite injury occurred some thirty years ago. A young wrestler named Bob Boyer was trying to make a name for himself. He was willing to wrestle anyone at any time and anywhere.
"No one worked harder than I did," Boyer once said. "I've had bumps, bruises, and broken bones all over my body and I've wrestled from Canada to Mexico. I've wrestled in towns that were so small they weren't even on the map. To get to some of these places I've driven thousands of miles. I've been scorched in the desert and trapped in blizzards. All I ever wanted to do was make it to the big time."
But the road to the big time was paved with obstacles. When Bob Boyer traveled to Mexico in 1956, the things he had to overcome should have earned him a place in the Wrestling Hall of Fame right then and there. He was there for three months. He spoke no Spanish and said it was the loneliest time of his life. He traveled in old buses, in jeeps, and even by mule. The fans looked at him as a villain and sometimes made him fear for his life. But not even that was the real reason Bob Boyer was special.
During the early part of his tour, he injured his left ankle. He was traveling the small towns and there was no doctor available, so he treated the injury as best he could. Night after night he wrestled, while the weakened ankle throbbed with pain. Some nights the pain was almost unbearable, but Bob Boyer kept fulfilling his commitments.
Finally the tour ended and Boyer returned to the States. The ankle was still hurting and extremely swollen. Now Boyer went to a doctor immediately.