Andre the Giant

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Andre the Giant Page 13

by Michael Krugman


  “Tell me, yes or no! Are you or are you not gonna fight him in WrestleMania III for the world heavyweight championship? Yes or no?”

  “Yesssss!” Hogan avows, the sound of his affirmation morphing into a lion’s roar.

  February 16, 1987: New Haven Coliseum, New Haven, CT

  PIPER’S PIT

  Piper comes out and runs a brush through his hair. “Three weeks, I’m letting it grow, man! Three weeks we got till the biggest extravaganza in the history of professional wrestling, WrestleMania III, and I’m damn proud to be the man that runs Adonis out of town, baldheaded, brother! I’ve got something else. I talked to Bobby Heenan and Bobby Heenan—ha, somebody said he’s a weasel, ha ha—and I said to myself, why should I talk to Bobby Heenan? I would prefer to hear the words from André the Giant himself, why he is doing this [André enters, followed by Heenan]. So I would like to bring out, as my guest, André the Giant.”

  “You want to talk to somebody, you talk to me,” says the Brain. “You want to talk to André the Giant, you talk to me. Anybody out there wants to do any negotiations, anything concerning this gentleman, you talk to me. Another thing, I’m sick of you and everybody else out here calling me names, calling me ‘weasel,’ saying I—”

  “Who called you weasel?”

  “Everybody did! Saying I poisoned this man’s mind. I haven’t done a thing but awoke him to the fact that people like you, Hulk Hogan, they used him. They laughed at him. They stabbed him in the back. Well, now it’s time for us to do a little stabbing in the back!”

  “Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Piper cuts him short. “I want you to listen to this now. This weasel here is saying—excuse me, Mr. Heenan is saying that Hulk Hogan has been stabbing in the back and Hulk Hogan has been doing all this, this is WrestleMania, this is a big thing, for the World Heavyweight Championship, I don’t want to hear you talk no more, I want to hear right from André the Giant—”

  From behind, Capt. Lou emerges and puts his hand on Piper’s shoulder. He takes the stick.

  “André. André, what have you done? To all these people out here, to me, your former manager, listening to the halfwit devious brain of the weasel, Bobby Heenan. André, what have you done? You’ve let the people down, you’ve disgraced yourself and your family and all the fans out there. I was your manager! You know something, I hope that the Hulk whips your butt, what do you think of that?”

  André, who had been looking away, a grim cast on his face, turns to Albano. He approaches menacingly, his chest at Capt. Lou’s eye level, sending his former manager cowering from the Pit.

  “Wait, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Piper says, trying to regain control.

  “Whoa, whoa, nothing!” Heenan says, grabbing the mic. “Who does anybody think they are to come out here [pounding the table] and belittle me, belittle this man! Everybody in wrestling is gonna answer to him! They’re gonna pay!”

  André continues to stare out at the crowd as Piper pulls the stick back. “Nobody’s belittling nobody, but you’re gonna have hell to pay to get the World Heavyweight Championship!”

  He slams the mic onto the table and pushes Heenan out of his way, leaving his own set. Unfazed, André looks steely-eyed out at the crowd.

  February 17, 1987: Civic Center, Springfield, MA

  THE SNAKE PIT

  “There’s something about intimidation,” Jake “The Snake” Roberts says, “because, you see, that’s the way I’ve always run my life, by intimidating people. Because if you can make people fear you, then you’ve got ’em one step closer to where you want ’em, and that’s in the palm of your hand. Now WrestleMania III’s coming down, it’s two weeks away, there’s a lot of things happening, a lot of questions to be asked.”

  Bobby Heenan, in blue rhinestone dinner jacket and red bow tie, emerges from the cave entrance while the Snake discusses his own WrestleMania match with Honky Tonk Man. André follows and Roberts turns to chat.

  “I gotta ask you, why?” he says, holding the mic up to the Giant.

  Heenan takes Jake’s arm and brings the stick toward himself. “Don’t talk to him. You talk to me, if you wanna talk to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why,” Roberts asks, gesturing toward André, “against Hogan?”

  “Why?”

  “After all this time.”

  “Because Hogan has used this man for the last time,” Heenan says as the camera goes in close to André’s dead-eyed stare and stone-faced expression. “Fifteen years undefeated, this man never got his fair shot at anything. People laughed at him, stabbed him in the back, and used him. Well now, in WrestleMania, we’re gonna use Hulk Hogan to get to what we want, the Championship of the World!”

  “Don’t you realize, André, how much respect you’ve lost from all the people?”

  Heenan pulls the mic back. “You pick me a winner!”

  “Pick you a winner of this match?”

  “Right. You pick me a winner.”

  “Well, I tell you,” Roberts says, “I respect faith, but doubt has always taught me an education. It’s a very big man. Now I wanna know why? Why don’tcha do it on your own, instead of having Heenan do it?”

  Again, André says nothing, and Heenan guides Roberts’s mic to his mouth.

  “Maybe you don’t understand. Maybe you’re dumb and thick like Hogan. And I’ll tell ya something, Hogan. If you’re as dumb as I think you are, it’s gonna be a piece of cake. ’Cause right now, the sheer picture of this man, the size of this man, you’re shaking! You can’t talk to anybody, you can’t do an interview, you can’t do a thing without the sweat pouring off of your body! WrestleMania, Hogan, is the end of Hulkamania. We’ve got a new heavyweight champion of the world, André the Giant!”

  “When worlds collide,” Jake muses, “something has to give. I agree with that. But what?”

  February 27, 1987

  André and Hogan sit across from each other, staring over the championship belt. At the head of the table is Jack Tunney, flanked by Mean Gene and Heenan, with assorted personnel standing around. Everybody other than the wrestlers themselves is arguing until Okerlund gets the proceedings under way.

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen, please,” says Mean Gene. “We are here for the most auspicious signing of any heavyweight title match in history, as you all know. Let me introduce, just for the record, some of these dignitaries who are with us at this time, for this historic event. First of all, Bobby ‘The Brain’ Heenan, representing the challenger, the Eighth Wonder of the World, from Grenoble, France, André the Giant.

  “To my right, the Heavyweight Champion of the World, from Venice Beach, California, Hulk Hogan. And to my immediate left, the distinguished president of World Wrestling Federation, Mr. Jack Tunney. Mr. Tunney, you can get on with the proceedings.”

  Hogan is breathing heavily, eyes locked on André. Cameras are clicking away as Tunney begins preparing the contracts.

  “Would you please sign on the dotted line, Mr. Rousimoff—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” interrupts Heenan. “Slow down here, Mr. Tunney. Mr. President. Few things I want to go over with you first. When we had a discussion about this championship belt—”

  “Yes,” says Tunney as Heenan reaches across the table for the title.

  “—I want a new championship belt. This one was made and designed for this human being—and I use that term very, very loosely. I want one made that will fit a man. Fit a giant of a man. Somebody that can represent the world of professional wrestling. Not like this man.”

  The Brain tosses the title belt back onto the table toward Hogan, who is continuing to snort and stare at André.

  “And another thing,” he continues. “I just want you to get one thing straight, Hogan. Fifteen years, this man’s gone undefeated. The three years you’ve been world’s champion, you’ve talked behind his back, you laughed at him, you never once gave this man an opportunity. Now he’s got that opportunity—”

  Hogan slams
his hand down on the table in a rage. “Sign it if you’re gonna sign it!”

  André grins at his opponent’s loss of composure, a crooked Mona Lisa smile across his face. He picks up the pen, affixes his name to the contract, and passes the paperwork back to Tunney, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Hogan’s. Tunney slides the contract to the champ.

  “You can sign under his name, Mr. Hogan.”

  “I’ll sign a lot of things,” pants the Hulkster, “signed a lot of contracts. Never thought it would come to this. What’s wrong with you, man? Both of you, you’re both sick. You’re both sick. If you wanted a title shot, all you had to do was ask me. I’d-a gave you anything, man. André, you were bigger than the world title to me. Yeah, I’ll sign it. You’ll get your chance at WrestleMania. When you tore my shirt off, man, when you tore the cross, you tore the heart and soul outta all the little Hulksters, man. Not just me. Well, you’re gonna get your chance, man. You’re gonna get your chance.”

  “Now you signed that contract,” André replies calmly, “you think I tell you everything you know in professional wrestling? But I didn’t. Believe me, WrestleMania III will be your last lesson.”

  The Giant continues in French as Hogan huffs and puffs. Finally, he slaps the table and points an angry finger in André’s face. “Speak to me in English when you talk to me! As far as I’m concerned, it’s not signed in ink. It’s signed in blood!”

  They both rise. “You want me to speak in English, I will speak in the ring at WrestleMania,” André says, putting up a hand to leave. “Au revoir.”

  March 10, 1987: Hara Arena, Dayton, OH

  PIPER’S PIT

  “We ain’t far from WrestleMania now, are we, man?” asks Piper, pounding the tabletop. “WrestleMania III ... And now, without further ado, I’d like to bring out President Jack Tunney, please.”

  “Hello, Roddy, how are you?” says Tunney, holding a black velvet bag.

  “Good, good. You’ve got a little present for me?”

  “Not that you don’t deserve it, however, this is a little different.”

  “What’ve we got?”

  “I’ve been charged with getting a new world’s championship belt, at Bobby Heenan’s insistence. Now this is large enough to fit André the Giant, if necessary. Let me show it to you, it’s beautiful.”

  “Let’s get that sucker off there,” Piper says, helping to remove the bag. “Ho, ho. That’s a big sucker there! That’s a giant belt, for sure! He’s a little trim, is he? Well, I don’t know. I know one thing for sure....”

  Heenan and André come out. The Brain picks up the belt and examines it.

  “Hi, Weasel,” greets the Pit’s host. The Brain turns and glares at him. “I mean, Mr. Heenan.”

  “You’ve finally done something right,” Heenan says, shaking Tunney’s hand. “You finally have done something that I’ve asked for. And I want all you people, all over the world, to get used to a certain sight, because you’re gonna be seeing a lot of this. You’re gonna be seeing the new next Heavyweight Champion of the World, André the Giant!”

  André spreads his arms wide as Heenan places the belt around his waist.

  “Wait a second,” Piper says, giving André the chance to speak. “What?”

  “I say, this one fit!” André booms, throwing the title belt over his shoulder.

  “Well, you’re an awfully big man,” says Piper, “but I wanna ...just one, I’ve never done this before, just take a little poll. This guy is wearing the World Heavyweight Championship belt right now; we’re just a little ways before WrestleMania, do you think, in any kinda way, he deserves to wear it now?”

  The crowd boos, gesturing thumbs-down.

  “If it doesn’t fit, and you do win, I’ll be sure to increase it myself.”

  “I have to just say one thing,” André says, staring down at the Hot Rod. “In one week, finally you gonna see a real champion.”

  Heenan and André leave the set.

  “Finally,” Piper notes, “finally, old sourmouth there, he has got himself a belt, he has got himself a manager, he has got himself a fight with Hogan. The only thing he ain’t got, is he ain’t won yet, man.”

  March 10, 1987: Hara Arena, Dayton, OH

  Announcer, TV Pitchman, and former Milwaukee Brewer Bob Uecker was enlisted as one of WrestleMania III’s celebrity guests. In advance of the event, the man known as “Mr. Baseball” is granted the dubious task of interviewing the challenger to the World Wrestling Federation title.

  “Hey, Bob Uecker here with Bobby ‘The Brain’ Heenan and André the Giant. You guys gotta be feeling pretty good, last week, throwing Hulk Hogan out of the ring, gimme a break, willya?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Heenan says, noting Uecker’s orange sweater. “I see you’ve been to a garage sale too. That’s why we’re here. Are you ready for your announcement?”

  “What announcement?”

  “You know, you been practicing? Are you prepared?”

  “I don’t practice announcing,” Uecker says proudly.

  “Well, you better practice. You gotta say one important thing.”

  “What?”

  “André the Giant, the new World’s Heavyweight Champion,” Heenan explains.

  “Come on, say it,” scowls André.

  “Wait a minute, I don’t—”

  “Say it!”

  “Come on!”

  “André the Giant, the new World’s Heavyweight Champion,” stammers Uecker.

  “No, with some enthusiasm,” insists the Brain.

  “Better than that,” demands André.

  “André the Giant! The new World’s Heavyweight Champion!”

  “Better than that!”

  “ANDRÉ THE GIANT!” yells Uecker. “THE NEW WORLD’S HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!”

  “Finally got something right,” allows Heenan.

  April/May 1987

  “TALE OF THE TAPE: HOW HULK AND ANDRÉ MEASURE UP”

  Hogan’s great stature and physique do not come near matching André’s overwhelming size and bulk. . . . André comes out on top in all but the arm department. Only in terms of biceps and forearms does Hogan outmatch the Giant. . . . André has the edge in all else, especially height and weight. The last-mentioned category, in fact, is where Hogan gives away the most—more, for that matter, than usual. His bout with André is the first title defense made by Hogan at a weight of less than 300 pounds.

  Hogan—Height: 6’8”, Weight: 294 lbs, Neck: 21”, Chest: 58”, Biceps: 24”, Forearms: 18”, Wrist: 9”, Hands: 13½”, Thighs: 30½”, Calves: 20”

  André—Height: 7’4”, Weight: 525 lbs, Neck: 24”, Chest: 71”, Biceps: 21”, Hands: 16”, Wrist: 11”, Forearms: 17”, Thighs: 36”, Calves: 22”

  April/May 1987

  “THE PROS RATE ANDRÉ AND HULK”

  by Keith Elliot Greenberg

  Rowdy Roddy Piper: “They’re gonna punch and punch and kick and smash and whack. It’s not gonna be pretty. But it’s gonna be good! André has one thing on his side—he’s ugly. One look at his puss and you wanna run back to the dressing room. . . . André’s gonna come at him, and Hulk’s not gonna budge. He’s gonna stand there in the middle of the ring and take everything that André gives him. Then, he’s gonna pick up that big backstabbing Giant, and he’s gonna slam him into the mat. And then the referee’s gonna get on the canvas and lift his hand and say three words: One-Two-Three.”

  Big John Studd: “Hogan is quicker than André. He knows how to bounce off the canvas and take a man off his feet. If a wrestler’s not careful, Hogan’ll roll him up for the pin. And—I’ll even admit it—his short-arm clothesline is painful. But André’s clothesline is more painful. And his kicks can take a man’s head off. Also, André’s angry. He finally discovered that Hogan’s friendship was just Hulk’s way of ducking him. Have you ever been near André when he’s mad? I’ve been. He’s vicious.”

  April/May 1987

  “‘HULKAMANIA IS DEAD’: HEE
NAN VOWS TO END HOGAN’S REIGN AT WRESTLEMANIA III”

  [André] is a man many have called the world’s greatest athlete, an overpowering presence who seems to hark back to the days when, legends say, giants walked the earth. André has never been beaten, not by any single opponent, and not in the thunderous donnybrooks of Battle Royals. In WrestleMania 2, for instance, he emerged the victor from a Battle Royal that included not only wrestling greats but some of the biggest, toughest brawlers from the NFL. André waded through some of the most formidable men in the world, tossing them about like children. In the end, only the Giant stood in the ring.

  “I told André that I was the only one who could get him what he wanted,” says Heenan. “I’m the world’s best wrestling manager. I could get him Hogan’s belt and the glory that goes with it. . . . André has always been the real champion, the man who should wear the belt. But the company never gave him the chance because they know he could beat Hogan as easily as I’d swat a fly. But now, I’ve given them no choice. Hogan must face André or quit. André knows that I’ve made this possible. So we’re together. No more Hulkamania. It’s time for reality. And reality is that no one in the world can beat the Giant.”

  As WrestleMania III approached, McMahon was faced with a decision as to how the match should play out. Should André the Giant remain the unstoppable monster, or should the hotter-than-hot new Superstar prevail?

  With Hulkamania running wild and business booming, it was obvious that Hogan should come out on top. McMahon confirmed the finish with André, but Hogan was kept in the dark until mere hours before the big show.

  VINCE McMAHON: “Hogan was scared to death. ‘What’s he going to do?’ Of course, Hogan should have been scared to death. ‘Are you sure André’s going to do this for us? I mean, are you really sure?’

  “Hogan would not say anything to André, like, ‘Hey, are you going to do this job for me?’ He had too much respect for André to come out straight and ask him. Instead he would beat around the bush—‘Hey, boss, what are we going to do?’

 

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