Second Nature

by Ric Flair

  As months went by, I learned about relationships Tiffany had before we decided to see each other. The more time went on, the more of these relationships I discovered. I was not told about them and learned about them in the moment. These embarrassing run-ins with former “friends” kept happening. For instance, I found out that she had a relationship with one of Ashley’s friends’ fathers. I know I had my own faults, but that was something I just couldn’t get past. Two years after we said, “I do,” in what I thought was the perfect wedding ceremony to the perfect person, we separated. This was not what I had in mind for our wedding anniversary.

  Two anniversaries were approaching that brought me great sadness. Because of the camaraderie in our profession, whenever someone passes away, it’s like losing a family member. Even if you’re not necessarily close with the person who passed, you feel for them and their families a little bit more, because you know the time away they’ve spent from them. In these instances, I was close with the people who passed away a year earlier.

  I met Sherri Martel in the ’80s. Sherri was trained by Fabulous Moolah and became a star in Verne’s AWA. In the ring, Sherri was another performer who was so tough and so talented that she was as successful in Japan as she was in North America. She was the WWE Women’s Champion in the late ’80s before becoming a valet—and man, did Sherri rule the outside part of the ring.

  As a manager, Sherri was a wildcat on camera. She was so good as a manager that I think some people forget how good she was in the ring as a performer. She’d jump off the top rope, leap off cages, dive off the ring apron. She’d do anything to make the match more exciting and make the audience believe that the hero was about to face the ultimate destruction. Sherri was the perfect villainess and added so much to the character and presentation of so many great performers: Randy “Macho Man” Savage, “Million Dollar Man” Ted DiBiase, Shawn Michaels, Harlem Heat, and, luckily for me, me.

  Whether she was in the ring as a competitor or on the outside as someone’s manager, as a performer, Sherri was way ahead of her time. On a personal level, Sherri was a wonderful woman who was kind, loyal, and tough as nails. Sherri could be the belle of the ball in an evening gown at a black-tie event or run the pool table at a bar and raise hell with the rest of the boys.

  I was so happy when she was inducted into the 2006 WWE Hall of Fame. I thought her speech that night in Chicago was one of the best the Hall of Fame has ever heard. Like so many others we’ve lost, I wish I could tell Sherri one more time how much she meant to me over the course of my career. I always think of her around this time of year, just a few months from the WWE Hall of Fame ceremony. Sherri was a wonderful friend.

  * * *

  There are certain things I’ll never be able to understand. The Benoit family tragedy is one that will stay with me for the rest of my life. It still doesn’t seem real.

  I met Nancy Benoit in 1979. She worked in Florida Championship Wrestling. She married my close friend Kevin Sullivan, who was a top villain for the Florida territory. Kevin was also a great mind behind the scenes when it came to story lines and developing characters, especially villains.

  Nancy was Kevin’s valet in those days. After she appeared as “fan” Robin Green in WCW, Nancy became Woman and managed the tag team called Doom—Ron Simmons and Butch Reed. Shortly after that, Nancy and I worked together. She was part of ECW before returning to WCW, where we worked together again.

  Nancy met Chris Benoit while they worked together in a story line in WCW. There was speculation about the timing of her relationship with Chris and her separation from Kevin. I never interjected myself into that. I certainly wasn’t the person to stand on a pedestal and pontificate about relationships. Early in my career, I learned how harmful rumors could be to someone’s career and personal life. Nancy eventually left the business.

  I first met Chris in the early ’90s when he made appearances for WCW. Chris trained in the famous Hart Dungeon in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, and in the New Japan Dojo. During those years, the dojos in Japan endured some of the most physically rigorous training anyone in our profession could imagine. Chris loved the business. When he started out, he wanted to emulate wrestler Dynamite Kid. Chris’s star shone brightly in Japan. His work there got him noticed by executives in WWE and WCW. Paul Heyman brought him to ECW, where many of the fans followed the international wrestling scene. I thought it was a great move by WCW to sign Chris to an exclusive contract in 1995.

  At that time, WCW also had a working relationship with New Japan Pro Wrestling. Chris was a gentleman, had incredible dedication to perfecting his craft, and was very easy to work with, behind the scenes and in front of the cameras. Arn and I thought so much of him that we made him a member of the Four Horsemen. He was one of the younger talents—along with the Giant (Big Show in WWE), Chris Jericho, and Eddie Guerrero—I hoped could work for WWE and benefit his career.

  Nancy and Chris got married, and Chris went to WWE. I was happy to work with him again when I returned to the company. The match between Chris, Shawn, and Paul at WrestleMania XX was phenomenal. It was everything I thought it would be and more.

  I loved Nancy and Chris, and so did my family. I can’t count how many times Nancy and Chris watched all four of my children at different times over the years. The Chris Benoit I knew always talked about his family. Chris was always so proud to show pictures of Nancy and their son Daniel, and his children from a previous marriage, David and Megan. I never thought Chris could take Nancy’s and Daniel’s lives. And then end his own. The Fayette County Sheriff’s office in Georgia ruled the case a double homicide-suicide. I’ll never be able to understand what happened in their home over that three-day period.

  What upset me a great deal was the motley crew of random people from our business who commented on what they thought happened to Nancy, Chris, their son, Daniel, and their tragic deaths. When there is heartbreak involving people in our profession, the media seeks anyone who may have had a cup of coffee in it to comment on people and situations he or she knows very little about. A few people did an excellent job in speaking about their lives. I wish there could’ve been a group of us designated to speak to the press so that people could learn about Nancy and Chris from those who knew them best professionally rather than from irresponsible sources who wanted to get themselves back on television.

  * * *

  Each time I added an appearance date to my work calendar, I thought of the words spoken by my close friend Jim Ross: “Business is about to pick up.” Endorsement deals were signed with Coca-Cola, Walmart, and the North Carolina Education Lottery. Talks began with NASCAR too. I also enjoyed working with independent wrestling promotions to do autograph signings and Q&A events around the United States, Canada, and Europe. It was exciting and something I was grateful for. Things began to go a little too well. I’d give them as much advance notice as I could when something was brought to me. I tried to be extra selective in what I did because I knew how big of a deal it was that WWE was allowing me to work when it went outside the scope of our agreement.

  The company believed that my work with so many independent wrestling companies was indirectly endorsing them, which I understood. I didn’t interpret it that way because I’d do one appearance and then the next day or week I’d do another. I wasn’t working for just one promotion; I looked at it as an income opportunity: I would earn a minimum of $20,000 to sign autographs and take picture for two hours. It’s one of the reasons why the ambassador role worked so well. I loved being around people and meeting fans. This allowed me to do both, but it seemed that something would have to give.

  There was discussion of a reality TV show. I wanted to explore the idea to see how it could be different from other shows in the reality genre. It became more challenging to balance my contractual obligations to WWE and do outside appearances and projects without conflict.

  But if this was the caliber of work being offered at the beginning of my retirement, what could I accomplish once I got into a
groove and showed what I could really do? Professional sports teams also contacted me about motivational speaking to their players. Fortune 500 companies made the same inquiry, inviting me to speak to their sales and marketing divisions.

  I was still so torn about my retirement from WWE and missing the day to day of being in the business. Now I was faced with another type of conflict. I worked with my Legacy Talent agent, Melinda, to create a portfolio of high-profile opportunities that were great for me, and I maintained WWE’s standard as a publicly traded global entertainment company. My appearances with independent wrestling promotions were with reputable companies and were so much fun. They were great opportunities to meet the most dedicated wrestling fans in local markets. I would never have had these exciting opportunities if not for WWE, Shawn, and this storybook retirement.

  But I needed to make sure that the work I was doing was rewarding and that I could maintain a certain income level. Especially for someone like me who has been an independent contractor for his entire adult and professional life. Even with a contract, that is a mind-set I never lost—if you don’t work, you don’t get paid. After several conversations with WWE and trying to reach a happy medium, we realized that my being under contract to WWE was not in our mutual interest. On August 3, we agreed to end our contract. WWE would still call me for TV-related opportunities, but everything going forward would be on a pay-per-appearance basis.

  For the first time since November of 2001, I was no longer under contract to WWE. I wasn’t completely sure if this was the right thing to do, but I knew that if there was a time to gamble on myself—on Ric Flair—this was it.

  5

  WHAT A YEAR

  There’s no way I could’ve anticipated what happened.

  December 2008

  Dating back to the early years of the business and wrestling territories, the holiday season always meant huge shows. Some were called Holiday Spectaculars, especially on Thanksgiving and Christmas Nights.

  One of the most special is 1983’s Starrcade. It emanated from the Greensboro Coliseum on Thanksgiving Night and was broadcast on closed-circuit television. Starrcade’s card was loaded with top talent from all over the United States and featured several classic matches: Ricky Steamboat and Jay Youngblood versus the Brisco Brothers, Abdullah the Butcher against Carlos Colón, the Dog Collar Match between “Rowdy” Roddy Piper and Greg Valentine, and in the main event, it was me versus Harley Race inside a steel cage for the NWA World Heavyweight Championship. Advertised as a “Flare for the Gold,” the legendary “Big Thunder” Gene Kiniski was the special guest referee.

  The event’s overwhelming success ensured my status as the long-term NWA Champion and cemented Crockett’s Mid-Atlantic Championship Wrestling as the premiere NWA territory. Superstation WTBS and Starrcade later served as a catalyst for Crockett’s foray into turning Mid-Atlantic into a nationally touring wrestling company under the NWA banner. It was our precursor to WrestleMania. It didn’t last, but we had a lot of fun in the early days of the Starrcade events.

  The holidays continue to provide memorable moments for me. I returned to WWE in November of 2001, and we’d launched the retirement story line the previous November. This year held a special significance because of my career change. I was still coming to terms with that. I was extremely pleased with my company endorsements and motivational speaking events, but I missed being in the business every day. I missed the camaraderie. I missed the feeling that you can only experience when you’re performing in front of a live audience.

  Looking back on how the year began, I didn’t think I’d be where I was. Looking at how it was ending, there were things that were professionally exciting, but things that personally concerned me. I was trying to make sense of what happened with Tiffany. There were two people I needed to tend to right away: my youngest children, Ashley and Reid.

  From the moment I held Ashley in my arms, she was my princess, and I spoiled her. I spoiled all my kids. I wanted them to have the best of everything and not worry about ever needing anything. Ashley and I are probably more alike in some ways than me and my other kids. I don’t love one more than the other, but Ashley and I have always had a special connection.

  Since her mother and I divorced, our relationship has experienced some bumps in the road. I know Ashley felt conflicted about Beth, her mother, being alone after I left and if she should be upset with me for that. It was also difficult for her to see me with another woman and the thought of having a stepmom. It took a long time for things to be comfortable around Tiffany, and now that relationship was ending. I never expected that to happen either.

  Ashley began dating a guy she met when she was home in Charlotte on break from school. Within months of meeting him, she left school, quit the volleyball scholarship she worked so hard for, and left everything behind just to be with him. They moved in together and lived in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. That’s when I realized how wrong things really were. Everything happened so fast. There was no talking to her about it or talking her out of it. All attempts to reason with her fell on deaf ears.

  There’s a point where your kids reach a certain age and you can speak to them, but if they’re over eighteen, they’re adults. Was I going to ground her? I had to accept that this was what she wanted to do. This was the person she wanted to be with, regardless if I approved or not, kind of like the way she and her siblings had to understand and respect my choices whether they agreed with them or not. I was not going to disown my daughter because she made a couple of decisions I didn’t approve of.

  One weekend, I visited them in Chapel Hill. Ashley, her boyfriend, and his sister were my guests for dinner at Top of the Hill Restaurant. We all had a great time and looked forward to spending the next day with each other.

  About 2:00 a.m., there was a commotion in the living room. Ashley and her boyfriend were raising their voices at each other. I didn’t want to interfere. The shouting escalated. I went into the living room to see if I could help calm things down.

  “Guys, what’s going on?” I asked.

  He yelled, “Your daughter—!” and that’s all I had to hear. My daughter did everything for this guy. He could barely hold a job. I got up and said, “Do you think you’re a man behaving this way? You’re not a man.” Ashley’s boyfriend exploded in a fury and started throwing punches at me. I just stood there. I knew her boyfriend had emotional troubles. He lost his father suddenly about two years earlier. And that night, we all had a great time and had some drinks at the restaurant. Ashley became very upset and tried to defuse the situation. When I thought things were starting to calm down, the police arrived, and all hell broke loose.

  Ashley was trying to stop the altercation and calm her boyfriend down. She became more upset. This was not the type of setting she was used to. When one of the police officers entered her space and asked her to put her hands behind her back, I heard her say, “Don’t touch me. I said don’t touch me.” The next thing I knew, the officer used a Taser to subdue her. She was brought to the floor and taken into police custody in handcuffs. Her boyfriend assaulted me, I had bruises on my face, and somehow my daughter, who tried to be a peacekeeper, was arrested. That wasn’t the worst of it.

  The media got involved and selectively included details to create a story. All of a sudden, Ashley’s police department mug shot was plastered across local news stations, newspapers, and online. Somehow, she became the focal point of the story. Ashley never got into trouble growing up. When she was in high school, it was a big deal if she came home past curfew. Once, she threw a party when Beth and I came home, and I took the cases of beer away from the kids who were there. That was it. This was not her element. It upset me to see my daughter in this situation.

  I didn’t press charges against her boyfriend. I wanted this to be resolved privately. My concern became my daughter’s well-being. I knew that sometimes she and her boyfriend had arguments—every couple does—but his behavior was deeply troubling. I was very concerned for her, but
she assured me that this was something that had never happened before and that I didn’t have to worry. Her boyfriend and I spoke privately, and he apologized. I did the only thing I could do. I accepted his apology and prayed that what Ashley told me was true—that this was a bizarre occurrence and it would never happen again. Even though I didn’t want my daughter with this person, I didn’t feel like I had any control over the situation. I wasn’t going to stop having a relationship with my daughter.

  * * *

  I continued to enjoy making appearances for independent promotions. It gave me the opportunity to meet fans and see friends I used to work with whom I hadn’t seen in many years. It hurt me to see some of them going through tough times because they made certain life choices, but that never diminished what they accomplished professionally.

  Over the previous ten to fifteen years, the old wrestling territory system had been romanticized, maybe even to a fault. I understand people look back fondly on a great time in their lives, but for the most part, the territories were great if you were a top guy. If you were performing in the opening match or somewhere along the bottom of the card, most of the time, you were starving. With the business model that Vince McMahon created in the ’80s with licensing (action figures, video games, a home video line, lunch boxes, etc.) along with merchandising (T-shirts and jackets, to hats and foam fingers), you could be a performer in one of the early matches on the WWE card and make a nice living. That was one of the reasons WCW relied on high-priced, guaranteed contracts. They didn’t have anything like that for years, and when they got around to it, it was rudimentary compared to WWE’s generous offerings. I’ve always said that if Vince McMahon had the Four Horsemen, we’d still be riding high today.

  The best part about the territory system was that performers had different places to learn their craft. They had the opportunity to work with different opponents with their own in-ring style in front of a variety of live audiences. These guys also had more than one viable place to work. Our industry, like others, has evolved. If people still wanted to pay to see what the territories offered, then Vince’s move to make WWE a nationally recognized company in the ’80s wouldn’t have succeeded. Vince put it all on the line to go national and make WrestleMania a reality. It was the gamble of a lifetime, and it paid off a hundredfold.