by Ric Flair
The segment was so well received by the audience that my creative plans were changed. I was now working with Carlito. We were supposed to be tag team partners in a match at WrestleMania 23. The day of WrestleMania, I found out our match was taken off the main show and put on the preshow. That was hard for me to take. Why would I be removed from the main show if what I did was so well received that my plans changed? Was I not good enough to be on the main card for WrestleMania? Was I being punished for something? I didn’t think either was the case. Vince told me he needed me to be a team player and lead by example. Of course, I did. But when you’re the one who’s taken off the WrestleMania card—the biggest WWE show of the year and one of the largest events in sports and entertainment—it’s difficult not to be disappointed.
I grew more frustrated with my role in the company. I thought there were times when I didn’t have a clear direction. I felt like something would do well, and then it just went away. I was drafted to SmackDown that June. SmackDown had a great roster of talent. The show also had more in-ring wrestling than Raw, so I thought I’d get to perform more. Batista and I teamed up. We had great matches with Edge and MVP. I thought my singles matches with Edge and MVP were also very good. Both of them are tremendous talents and great guys outside the ring. After those weeks, I was told they were figuring out a bigger picture for me. It never came.
A couple of months later, on my day off, I went to Columbia, South Carolina, to promote an upcoming SmackDown event. I found out I wasn’t scheduled to be on the show. I asked someone with the company, “How can I be doing media for an event that I’m not booked to appear on?”
I shouldn’t have voiced my frustration to the WWE employee. It had nothing to do with her. I got a text around 1:00 the next morning stating that I was “probably” going to be on the show. I thought I could do more for the company, and I wanted to do more. I didn’t have to compete in the ring every week even though I physically could. Plus, I continued to receive strong reactions from the audience. I know nothing was done deliberately, but I was frustrated, and that made matters worse. “Reports” circulated online that I gave my notice to the company. That never happened.
During that period, I asked for a meeting in Stamford, Connecticut, with Vince, Stephanie McMahon, and an in-house WWE attorney. I brought two attorneys with me. I wanted to talk about where else I could use my name outside of WWE and other opportunities I could pursue with the company. That was a big mistake. Vince McMahon detests attorneys. Vince gave me a hug, we sat down, and then he tore into me for ruining our relationship by bringing attorneys into his office. He said that I had his phone number and I should’ve just called him. I only brought them because I thought we were having a business discussion. Now that seems so long ago.
One of the first things I did when I arrived in Orlando was to meet with Shawn and Michael Hayes about our match on Sunday.
Shawn started the meeting by saying, “Listen, you’re going to do something you’ve never done in your life.” He continued by expressing what every woman who I was ever with probably wanted to say to me. “You’re just going to keep your mouth shut and listen to this. This is what we’re doing.” I guess it was fitting that someone said it to me for my last match.
Shawn showed me a piece of paper and described what was written down.1 It was difficult for both of us not to get tangled in the emotion of what was going to happen the next day. After our meeting, it was time to prepare for my commitments for the week.
When I returned to WrestleMania in 2002, I realized how much the event had grown since I performed at WrestleMania VIII in 1992. Vince’s vision of a global entertainment company with an annual, live destination event went from dream to reality. WrestleMania evolved into a packed week of media events, personal appearances, and everyone doing something at Axxess. Picture a convention hall filled with everything WWE: exhibits, video game tournaments, matches, and meet-and-greet sessions. Fans can even walk down the Raw ramp like they’re having an entrance on TV. The autograph signings at Axxess are favorites of mine. You get such a sense of how fans of our industry pass it on to their children. People show me and ask me things from every era of my career. It’s another aspect of what we do that’s so special.
I’m so proud that when I became the Nature Boy, I was one of the few performers who didn’t need to reinvent himself and come back under a different persona during his career. There were times I was a “bad guy” and times I was a “good guy,” but I was always the Nature Boy. In our profession, if you’re very good at being bad long enough, the fans fall in love with you. From the day George Scott talked me into picking up where the original Nature Boy, Buddy Rogers, left off, including using Buddy’s figure-four leg lock as my finishing move, I’ve enjoyed a wonderful journey … mostly.
I wrestled Buddy a couple of times in the 1970s. They weren’t great matches, but it was awesome to see him in the ring with his trademark strut. One night in Greensboro, North Carolina, Buddy called me over in the locker room. He shook my hand, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “Kid, there’s only one diamond in this business, and you’re looking at it.” I was a few days away from joining Buddy, who was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame in 1994, along with many others I deeply admire.
Since 2004, the Hall of Fame ceremonies were held in intimate, amphitheater-type settings. They were beautiful, sold-out events. They were not full-size arenas. Amway Arena was the original site for WrestleMania XXIV. After WrestleMania 22 outside of Chicago in 2006, Vince decided that every WrestleMania going forward would be held in a stadium. That meant WrestleMania on Sunday was moved to the Citrus Bowl and the Hall of Fame induction ceremony was moving to the Amway Arena. That’s when I became a little nervous …
The Amway Arena was home to the NBA’s Orlando Magic. It’s where WWE events take place when the company is in Orlando. I enjoyed performing in Orlando during my career, but I never considered it one of “my towns.” I was confident that people would come to the induction ceremony. When you’re headlining, you never want to see empty seats.
I love what WWE has done with the Hall of Fame. I remember the WCW Hall of Fame ceremonies in the early ’90s during the Slamboree pay-per-view. They were nice events. I heard about WWE’s first Hall of Fame inductions in the mid-’90s. To see how the company has developed, the Hall of Fame far exceeds what I’ve seen in person in Cooperstown, New York, for baseball; Canton, Ohio, for football; and what I’ve watched on television in Springfield, Massachusetts, for basketball.
A montage of images kept whirling in front of me. I kept thinking about everything that happened during my career. I began to think about what I’d say at the podium. I kept putting my hand inside my tuxedo jacket pocket to make sure I still had my speech. I wanted to do right by this moment in my life.
That’s when I thought of Ray Stevens and Wahoo McDaniel. I hope they are called to the Hall of Fame. I hope I have the honor of inducting them, because they’ve meant so much to me. And Mad Dog Vachon. Mad Dog was the first person I told that I wanted to become a professional wrestler. Mad Dog was on the 1948 Canadian Olympic wrestling team. He’s one of the all-time greats as a professional and one of the toughest men I ever knew. Mad Dog was the real deal.
What WWE has done in celebrating its history over the last four years has been incredible. Legends and Hall of Famers having their own action figures, books, and DVDs and being in video games are such special ways to honor their—well, our—legacy. It’s also an excellent way to be introduced to younger fans. When you reach a certain age, you start to become more aware of how you and your work will be remembered.
I’m also happy to see people like Verne Gagne and Nick Bockwinkel, who did not have WWE in-ring careers, enjoy the recognition of being in the Hall of Fame. We saw that in 2008 with Gordon Solie. I hope that continues.
My one concern with the Hall of Fame is that the stature of those who are inducted remains at a certain level. I know there’s an expectation to produce a class ea
ch year for a live event that’s broadcast on television. Words like great and legend are overused today. Someone who had had a long career is not automatically a legend. I don’t say that to disrespect anyone. I love what the Hall of Fame is and where it’s headed; I just want the essence of the Hall to be maintained because I love this profession so much.
Some fans don’t like the idea of a celebrity wing to our Hall of Fame. I think it’s great if the celebrity came to work with us and was successful in what he or she did. Why would the opportunity for more people to see what we’re doing be a negative, as long as it’s done properly? What disappoints me is when a celebrity inductor has a faint connection to an inductee. I felt an enormous sense of pride when I got to induct Harley Race and Roddy Piper. I want everything to be heartfelt. Was it cool to have Sylvester Stallone induct Hulk Hogan into the WWE Hall of Fame in 2005? Of course. But did you get the sense from Stallone’s speech that it was heartfelt? That he really knew Hulk? That he cared about Hulk’s career and our business?
I felt that way when William Shatner inducted Jerry Lawler. Jerry’s been an enormous star in our profession for more than thirty years. I understand he did something with William Shatner once and it’s a headline that he’s inducting him. Did it translate to an emotional induction speech for someone like Jerry? That’s what “the King” deserved.
For my induction, I had a difficult time choosing who should induct me. Dusty Rhodes had his sons, Dustin and Cody, usher him into the Hall. I didn’t think my kids would like that—except for Reid. He’d probably take the microphone and go into an interview segment right there onstage. The whole place would go nuts. I thought of Arn Anderson because he’s been so close to me since the Horsemen, and our children grew up together. But I selected Paul. We’d formed such a special bond over the previous seven years. When I took an extra moment to think about it, it felt like the right thing to do.
So many faces came to mind on my way to the building that day. You’d think I was making the more than three-and-a-half-hour drive to Orlando from Miami. Though if I were driving with Ray Stevens or Harley, we’d make it there in less than three. Whenever those two got behind anything with a steering wheel and an engine, you were riding lightning!
The feeling backstage at the Amway Arena was unbelievable. I’ve been there so many times for WWE events. It was where Hulk Hogan and I worked with each other on pay-per-view for the first time: WCW’s Bash at the Beach in 1994. I imagined what it would be like when Vince put that beautiful ring on my finger. I was getting closer.
While I watched the inductees from backstage, I thought about each of them during their inductions:
I could write another book on what the Brisco Brothers mean to this business and how important they’ve been to me. Jack and Gerry Brisco were top performers wherever they went: Australia, Japan, Championship Wrestling from Florida, Georgia Championship Wrestling, and WWE.
When Jack Brisco was a junior on the Oklahoma State University wrestling team, he was not taken down once during the entire season. As a professional, Jack was a two-time NWA World Heavyweight Champion.
Gerry was also a standout in wrestling for Oklahoma State. He was a machine in the ring and was the NWA World Junior Heavyweight Champion. After he retired from the ring, he became a confidant to the McMahon family and an executive behind the scenes. Fans of the Attitude Era know Jerry as one of Mr. McMahon’s “stooges” who helped in the fight against “Stone Cold” Steve Austin.
As a team, the Briscos held more than twenty tag team championships. They had tremendous matches with so many teams. Look at the matches they had against Ricky Steamboat and Jay Youngblood. Like Ray Stevens, by the time Jack and Gerry arrived in WWE, they were still very good. I wish WWE fans could’ve seen them in their prime.
The Briscos’ most powerful double-team maneuver took place behind the scenes. Gerry and Jack held controlling interest in Georgia Championship Wrestling. They sold their majority stake in the territory and its coveted Saturday timeslot on Superstation WTBS to Vince McMahon. This put the territory out of business. Fans who tuned in to WTBS that Saturday saw WWE for the first time. Vince sold everything to Jimmy Crockett within the year, but it was a step toward Vince taking WWE programming into markets across the country.
The pundits always said that what Walter Cronkite was to news, Gordon Solie was to professional wrestling.
Gordon announced stock car racing and was a news broadcaster. He loved wrestling and started out as a ring announcer. Fans heard Gordon in Georgia Championship Wrestling, Championship Wrestling from Florida, and WCW on WTBS, among other promotions. “The Dean,” as Gordon was known, had an incredible work ethic. At one point, he was the voice of three NWA territories at the same time. Gordon did not want to know what was going to happen in the match. He wanted the audience to feel exactly what he felt at that moment. Gordon had such a commitment to his craft and a respect for the audience.
I remember seeing video packages after my “I Quit” match against Terry Funk at New York Knockout. Each one featured Gordon’s famous call, “Five letters, two words … I quit.” That night, Gordon called the action with Jim Ross—talk about a dream team.
As a broadcaster, Gordon was trusted and made everything sound so important. He was the voice of our business and ahead of his time.
Gordon loved his Benson & Hedges menthol cigarettes and good Russian vodka. He was also a dear friend.
One night in 1994, I was in the locker room at WCW Saturday Night. I couldn’t believe that WCW had Gordon Solie, “Mean” Gene Okerlund, and Bobby “the Brain” Heenan on the same broadcast team with my good friend Tony Schiavone.
In 2000, I knew Gordon was not in good health. I called him one night to see how he was doing. We had one of our great conversations. We talked about our great times working together, the state of the business, and all the fun we had. I told Gordon I loved him. He told me that he loved me. Gordon passed away the next day.
As I watched Gordon’s family induct their dad, I thought of another of his unforgettable lines, his send-off each week closing out the Florida program: “So long from the Sunshine State.”
For decades, Mae Young was one of the toughest wrestlers, male or female, in the business. Mae was a major star from the 1940s into the 1970s and held different championships in the NWA. Mae was one of the trailblazers in the business for women when it came to places that hosted women’s matches and females having competitive matches.
Mae enjoyed a second part to her career when she debuted in WWE in 1999. I wasn’t with the company when this happened, but I heard Mae was ecstatic at the idea of the Dudley Boyz putting her through a table. Mae loved being with everyone backstage. She always tried to find ways to do more during her segments on the show. I could relate to that.
Eddie Graham was one of the famous Graham “brothers.” Eddie was an all-time great in the ring. Eddie and Dr. Jerry Graham were Vince McMahon’s favorite tag team growing up as a kid. The team was so successful that the “family” grew to include other “brothers”—“Crazy” Luke and “Superstar” Billy, the latter of whom was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame in 2004. Eddie became one of the top promoters for the NWA in Florida and was a close business associate and friend of Vince McMahon Sr. Eddie was elected as NWA president in 1976. Eddie helped promote the first ever NWA versus WWE Championship unification match that saw Harley against “Superstar” Graham.
Eddie always liked to throw something into my match when I was NWA Champion. When you were the champion, it was understood that you were going to be in the main event and wrestle for sixty minutes. One night, Eddie put me in a steel cage match against Butch Reed. Right before I went out, Eddie told me I couldn’t use the cage at all, that I couldn’t throw Butch into it. That certainly kept me on my toes.
You want to talk about someone who had it all—an incredible physique, amazing athleticism, and a boatload of charisma? It was Rocky Johnson. And his son hit the nail right on the head during the induc
tion speech when he talked about his dad’s dropkick, in my opinion, probably only rivaled by Jim Brunzell’s. Don’t forget about the heroic comeback. The arena would be shaking when Rocky Johnson made his comeback. Man, Rocky knew how to get the crowd going!
I remember seeing Rocky’s son Dwayne in the locker room when he was a child. It’s been incredible to see what Dwayne, known around the world as The Rock, has accomplished in his career. I had a blast working with him at WrestleMania XX.
When it came to Peter Maivia, I can listen to Pat Patterson tell stories all night about working with Peter in San Francisco. The Polynesian fans in that area would rush the ring and defend the honor of their hero the High Chief. It was dangerous to be a villain in those days. Peter was a champion in different NWA territories and was a legend in the South Pacific, the West Coast of the United States, and WWE.
Peter promoted shows in Hawaii for NWA. The fans came out in droves for those events. After Peter’s passing, his wife, Lia, continued to run the business. The memorial shows honoring Peter were exciting events. Anyone who was anyone during those years appeared for Lia Maivia: Andre the Giant, Antonio Inoki, Bruiser Brody, the Von Erichs, Michael Hayes, Dusty Rhodes, Magnum TA, Jerry Lawler, me, and of course Rocky Johnson. It was rare in those days to have a Super Card with stars from WWE, NWA, AWA, Japan, and other competing companies. Everyone was happy to come together to honor Peter. The Maivia and Anoa’i families had that much respect in the business. They still do today, because they deserve it.
Backstage, after Vince put the Hall of Fame ring on my finger, Paul brought me a box. When I opened it, it was something I had never seen before—cuff links of the NWA World Heavyweight Championship’s main plate. Watching my induction video put together by the production department was like an out-of-body experience. Hearing Paul’s words was something I never imagined. To see all of this for me was almost too much to absorb all at once.2