Tuesday, October 12, 2010

CITY of CHAMPIONS PPV

CUE THEME SONG http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/song_details/4678489?play_now=true

Hey guys, I know you're not all underground rap fiends like me but please take a moment to check this track out. It's by some of my boys from Brockton and I'd be curious to get your (even casual) rap opinion on it. It also doubles as the official theme song for BCCW's "City of Champions!!!"

Cue pyrotechnics display, opening theme - pan wide to rabid Broken City Slaughtahouse audience.

"Diamonds from Sierre Leone" can mean only one thing - DIAMOND DYNASTY in da house!!!

Bobby "the Brain" Heenan enters through the black curtain first, followed by his two charges WADE BARRETT & "The Fortunate Son" TED DIBIASE JR (complete with sparkling Million Dollar Championship belt). Crowd serenades them with a great chorus of boos.

"Bourne to Win" screams through the sound system, heralding the arrival of a modern-day Super Team. Enter EVAN BOURNE and MIL MASCARAS!!!



     

1) DIAMOND DYNASTY (Wade Barrett & Ted Dibiase Jr) w/ Bobby "the Brain" Heenan
versus
EVAN BOURNE and MIL MASCARAS


Great, high-octane opening match between some of the freshest and most recognizable faces in the game. Evan Bourne clearly gives up the size advantage to his opponents, but it is virtually nullified by the heavyweight high-flying stylings of his partner Mil Mascaras. The Mexican Super Hero and the Modern Day Superstar must also contend with the wily "Weasel" at ringside, who is adept at drawing crowd heat and instigating many interactive chants from the audience. In the middle, Evan Bourne settles in as the face-in-peril while the Diamond Dynasty flaunts their teamwork and charisma. Finally Mil Mascaras gets the hot tag and goes house-a-fire. Match breaks down and all 4 men are in the ring. Barrett gets ejected from the ring in dramatic fashion, opening the door for Dibiase to eat a High cross body block from Mascaras followed by a pinpoint Shooting Star Press for the pin! Classic "noble Hero versus despicable Villain" match, and with Heenan in the corner after the loss the Diamond Dynasty still maintains their heat.

Winners: EVAN BOURNE & MIL MASCARAS




BREAKING NEWS - NEW JACK will be unable to perform tonight due to a jail sentence. His replacement in the Money-in-the-Bank match will be named later




2) WORLD WOMENS WRESTLING championship match

ALEXXIS NEVAEH
versus SAMMI LANE (w/ "Adorable" Adrian Adonis)



versus


Just imagine Adonis - fat and sassy - sashaying around ringside with Sammi Lane





Bad guys quickly to retain their heat when Adonis confronts Alexxis and drags her by her hair all the way back into the ring, where Sammi Lane has the make-up kit and scissors ready. But Alexxis gets the titanic ball shot on Adonis to break his grip and draw a huge pop from the crowd! DDT to Sammi Lane and Alexxis Nevaeh gets the last laugh!!!




3) Video recap: King of the Death Match (Messiah) and his Queen of Xtreme (Lizzy Borden) ruled the West Coast with fear and evil malice. Even darker forces conspired to take the drama beyond the mat and murder The Messiah. He escaped the attack and fled California. Lizzy Borden was imprisoned on unrelated charges. "Vicious" Vic Grimes - long time nomadic hardcore mercenary - has recently revealed himself to be in on the hit. All sides have resolved to settle their violent differences outside the court of law, and inside the bloodstained BCCW ring. This is a 3-way hardcore match for the "King of the Death Match" title.


KING of the DEATH MATCH Triple Threat Match

THE MESSIAH versus LIZZY BORDEN versus "VICIOUS" VIC GRIMES (aka "Kilo Killa")



versus versus


This fullfills the "Holy Shit" hardcore quota of the show. The most extreme and violent action (commonly seen along the Death Match circuit) is only exacerbated by the presence of an actual girlin the midst of it all. So it just makes the whole thing a brutal exploitation in hardcore wrestling, where in some sick world Lizzy Borden is "earning her respect". End comes with Vic Grimes (now)-infamous gasoline-infused burning table spot to Messiah, and this crushing top rope powerbomb to Lizzy Borden to the floor of the arena, where you will notice she barely hits the table and smashes her head on the floor.


http://www.wrestlinggonewrong.com/video/vic_powerbombs_lizzy.html


Winner (and NEW King of the Death Match): "VICIOUS" VIC GRIMES!!!


Ring is cleared of wreckage, firemen and EMTs flood the scene and we cut backstage where JOHN CENA is prepping for his big title defense tonight (big pop!!!!)





JOHN CENA: I've talked to a lot of successful individuals in our business and some feel the pressure and some don't. I'm very confident with who I am, I'm very confident with my ability in the ring, and I'm very confident with where I'm at. I'm one of those guys who, unlike a lot of other headliners, I get cheered and I get booed. I don't necessarily feel a lot of the pressure because I'm letting the environment be the environment and let fans be exactly who they want to be around me.

The Gold Dust Trio may own the business, but they'll never own Cena or the Cenation brand. He would rather die in a fiery wreck driving a 1970 Mercury Cougar Eliminator, than sell out to them!!! Tonight… he is prepared to Defend Honor... or Die Trying. And with those last words, comes a distinct possibility...

4) Let the madness continue.

MONEY-in-the-BANK Match (for a guaranteed World Title Shot)





POGO the CLOWN versus SABIAN versus RYAN DANGERFIELD versus RUCKUS versus TERRY GORDY, BUDDY ROBERTS & MICHAEL HAYES (The Fabulous Freebirds)

Pogo the Clown out first with the shovel to scare the kids in the front rows. The BLK MOBB (Ruckus & Sabian) enter together with some local strippers from the Foxy Lady to a big cheer. Ryan Dangerfield (the replacement) emerges to a surprising pop. He stops for a moment and attempts to disbelieve, but it's really happening. Then the dial tone gets turned up to 11 when the first few strains of "Bad Street USA" are heard. Enter the Fabulous Freebirds. But it is violent, uncontainable venom they are greeted with by the Broken City fans. Perhaps expecting this reaction, the Freebirds have taken the precursory thought to play this crowd reaction to the hilt. They are adorned head to toe (including face paint) in the colors of the Dixie flag. And this ain't Dukkes of Hazzard they're preaching to. Crowd heat is off the charts.

Match - strictly speaking - is awesome. Given just enough time to tell its story, highlight the various performers, and dazzle the captive audience with daring bumps and dives. You got the muscle (Gordy and Pogo) to build to clanging, stacking, swinging ladder shots. The guts and dexterity (BLK Mobb, Buddy Roberts) to pull off the big twists, turns and tumbles. Charisma and color like Michael Hayes to manipulate crowd emotion. And you got guys like Ryan Dangerfield to take all the moves in between.

Towards the end (after The Fabulous Freebirds unfair gangland-style numbers advantage has given them the clear lead), we get to a series of daring ladder climbs before Terry Gordy (acting as the fulcrum on a broken piece of ladder) and Michael Hayes (climbing the Gordy/ladder combination) are within reach. Then SUDDENLY...

NATURAL BORN KILLAZ by Dr Dre and Ice Cube!!!

NEW JACK!!!



Trash barrel full of plunder, escape warrant on his head - NEW JACK is back in the Broken City Slaughtahouse! Shades of ODB escaping rehab and performing with his Wu-Tang brethren on stage. Crowd goes ballistic for the surprise appearance! New Jack rewards them with a sudden barrage of house-cleaning weapon shots while "Natural Born Killaz" continues to bump in the background.

Match tide turns violently, and after New Jack single-handily destroys the Freebirds with his sickle, a glass pan and a flaming 2x4 respectively, who scales the final massive ladder to retrieve the briefcase??? Why, none other than the WHITE FLASH himself!!!!

WINNER: RYAN DANGERFIELD!!!

New Jack - crimson mask and all - just stares at the kid with a mixture of disbelief, seething anger... and perhaps a little respect???

Cut to backstage, where the 2010 Trust Busters are ready for action





JACK SWAGGER: I felt like when I came in, even though I was about as raw as you could be to professional wrestling, because of the background, I still was light years ahead of most people. As far as the work in the ring, it’s so much technique and spacing and timing, and that’s what amateur wrestling is, too. So I felt like I learned very fast and a lot of things came naturally for me.

The secret to success was here all along. Swagger checked his pride and game into Lou Thesz wrestling camp and found Thesz had added another dangerous versatility to his training - jui jitsu. Joining up with Kimura to form "The Shooters Club" has only made everyone involved that much more dangerous. Now with their combined network of trainers and sparring partners, they are ready to fight the mighty goliath Gold Dust Trio Inc. Thesz points to the debauchery (gambling, womanizing, boozing) that permeates the Gold Dust Trio Inc organization as being the key factor to their eventual downfall. Hastened by Trust Busters from the Shooters Club.

LOU THESZ: That's where it is in the professional world. It's been great, and we had some great, great wrestlers in the past and present. And we had some people, of course, at the lower end of the totem pole, that really weren't that great, but they also supported the sport. Today we have drugs. At that time we had some alcoholics, but they weed themselves out automatically. The cream rises to the top, as they say. The good ones stay in there and keep going, or try to, and the ones who have not done their homework and hit the booze or whatever, they fall by the wayside. It's just a matter of choice, that's all.

5) TRUSTBUSTERS (Lou Thesz & Jack Swagger) versus GOLD DUST TRIO INC. (Ed "Strangler" Lewis & Desmond Wolfe)


Not since the Brisco Bros in '70s or the Briscoe Bros in the '00s have you seen such a display of tag team perfection. Both teams are a well-oiled machine, orchestrating their attacks with crisp tags and double-team maneuvers. With these 4 mat technicians in the ring, it is a suplex/chain-wrestling clinic. Then they bust out the space age submission seminar, mixed with just a little old-school brutality to show how low the Gold Dust Trio is willing to stoop to reach their goals. A few donnybrooks erupt between all four men. In the end stretch, both referees assigned to the tag contest lose control of the match. Strangler (the legal man) chokes out Jack Swagger while Lou Thesz (the other legal man) locks Desmond Wolfe in the Ankle Lock.

One ref drops Swaggers unconscious arm for the 3rd time exactly the same time the second ref is acknowledging Desmond Wolfe's frantic tap-out. Both refs call for the bell to end the match simultaneously. Confusion reigns. Strangler and a wounded Wolfe take advantage of the fracas by double-teaming a defenseless Lou Thesz. With refs struggling to revive Swagger in the ring, Wolfe & The Strangler rip up the mats around the ring - exposing sheer concrete. A series of piledrivers on the cement floor seal the Undisputed Champions doom. Strangler and Wolfe raise their arms in victory over the fallen bodies of their opponents, as the crowd boos them voraciously. Strangler flicks the Gold Dust Trio Inc. business card upon their prone forms. Trust Busters announced as Winners by DQ after the fact, but don't look too victorious at all. Stretchers are brought in for both men.

Winners: LOU THESZ and JACK SWAGGER (The Trust Busters)


Cut to commercial

6) Back to the arena, "Cool Cocky Bad" can mean only one thing....

HONKY TONK MAN!!!



Honky Tonk Man is sick of the disrespect. He is a top-shelf, main event talent anywhere on the globe! He's not being taken seriously here in BCCW, and aims to change that perception tonight! Shake-rattle-and-roll'em on down to the ring, and Honky'll knock them all down!!!

HONKY TONK MAN: Get me somebody out here to wrestle, I don't care who it is!!!

Cue "Boy From New York City" by The Manhattan Transfer

Introducing...

"THE BOOGIE WOOGIE MAN" JIMMY VALIANT!!!



A little shimmying, and a little shaking. A whole lot of juking and The Boogie Woogie Man quickly makes the outclassed Honky Tonk Man look like a jive turkey. As expected, Honky's guitar comes into play and winds up exploding over his own head in dramatic fashion! Crowd pop is as explosive as the debris, as "Boogie Woogie Man" drops the big jive elbow for 3! Over in less than 60 seconds!!! Jimmy Valiant is all over the ring and in the front row of fans, dancing and soaking in the love. Stops by somebody's homemade "Beer Can Chasing Woman (BCCW)" sign and pours a spectators beer on the female sign-holders massively endowed chest! Crowd (and the now-beer drenched chick) cheer Valiant as he licks it off her chest and poses for the cameras!

Just then!

7) "Straight Edge" by Minor Threat!

Enter THE STRAIGHT EDGE SOCIETY!!!



The 3 Straight Edge gangbangers surround Valiant in the ring, who gamely offers up his fists to fight them all. The SES learned something at "Respect The Shooters & Hookers". Necro Butcher has the mic and points to Luke Gallows steel-toed boots; still stained with blood from the Freebird brawl.

NECRO BUTCHER: The simple fact is that blood draws people into the match more. Nothing makes a crowd sympathize with someone more than if that someone is a bloody mess. In the same regard, when the crowd wants to see someone injured, nothing satisfies them more than if that person is busted open. I find it thrilling to satisfy the crowd, so the blood has been a constant thing throughout my career, both me and my opponents.

The Straight Edge Society beats the royal piss out of 'The Boogie Woogie Man". Crowd gets queasy as a result of the violence (including steel chairs and a table). Finally the SES traps him in a debilitating submission hold - and with a dramatic flourish - shave his entire mangy head bald. They leave him in a puddle of blood, beer and filthy hair clippings. Straight Edge Society reigns supreme amidst a sea of discarded beer cups and blunt guts.

8) RIKIDOZAN versus MASAHIKO KIMURA (shoot fight)
versus


The build-up to this match was a lifetime in the making. From Rikidozan welcoming Kimura into the pro wrestling fraternity, then betraying him out of professional jealousy and spite. To Kimura exposing Rikidozan's true Korean heritage and training to challenge him one more time for all the marbles. Tonight, these two decorated purerosu veterans and shootfighting founders will meet for the last time.

Rikidozan out with a dangerous-looking, tattooed Yakuza entourage. Kimura out with his trainers and coaches in a Gracie-train (head down, single-file, hands on the shoulders in front of you). Both athletes patted down and fleeced by the referee before they enter the ring. During introductions, boos rise steadily during Rikidozan's part and explode as his name is announced. For his part, he is used to playing the Hero in Japan - but is also well-versed in playing the Heel in America. So he is haughty, condescending and arrogant in his crowd interactions. Masahiko Kimura gets a stirring reaction from the BCCW faithful. Removes the white gi to reveal wrestling tights emblazoned with Japanese and American flags. Neither man bows to the other, or shakes his hand. This is personal.


Let's throw this one out to the MMA in-crowd.


The show also featured one of the most exciting fights in BCCW history, as judo champion KIMURA defeated RIKIDOZAN, who later became a TV and internet radio voice for the spot.  Highlights of this fight still air at every BCCW live event in music video form, including Rikidozan's attempt to kiss Kimura during pre-fight instructions, which prompted Kimura to shove him away.


Rikidozan kneed Kimura in the groin, unseen by the ref, and followed up by beating Kimura half to death on the ground (including a series of vicious soccer kicks). Most refs would have stopped the fight at that point. Rikidozan then got Kimura's back for a choke. Kimura escaped, and in the signature moment of his career, picked Rikidozan up and ran across the ring with him, delivering a running slam on the other side of the mat. Kimura then overwhelmed Rikidozan on the ground and tapped him out at 14:04.

DAVE MELTZER


Absolutely thrilling display of jiu-jitsu mastery mixed with Greco-roman grappling and E. Honda styled-Sumo slaps. Several spots on the ground saw Rikidozan go for the blatantly illegal eye rake. A few of Rikidozan's suplexes and slams were stunning in their velocity, but Kimura was able to roll through every time and maintain his composure. Masahiko even managed to escape a very tight Kimura armlock applied by Rikidozan towards the end of the fight. At fight's end, neither man congratulated the other or their corners. Kimura just stared daggers through Rikidozan as he was helped to his feet and out of the ring by his cornermen. Kimura then bowed respectfully to the audience from all 4 corners of the ring to great applause.

Winner: MASAHIKO KIMURA by submission

9)
”NATURE BOY” BUDDY ROGERS (w/ Bobby “the Brain” Heenan) versus DX TRIPLE H
Title Unification Bout


versus

Epic-level entrance for the OG “Nature Boy”, complete with exploding pyrotechnics display and extravagant ostrich-feathered entrance robe. Tosses the towel around his neck to The Brain, ala Mr. Perfect, and does the Nature Boy strut. His Real World’s Championship is prominently displayed throughout his magnificent walk-in. “Diamonds from Sierre Leone” bumps in the background.

”Are you ready???

Major label main-event entrance for DX TRIPLE H (think Summer Slam tank job). The nighttime arena is alight with DX glow sticks. You can’t count the amount of “Suck It” signs in the crowd.

Match is a colossal slobber knocker. The slightly wider, more defined DX Triple H bullies the “Nature Boy” around the ring but is seemingly no match for Buddy’s guile, and is met with finger pokes and face rakes. Highlighted by DX Triple H attempting a crotch chop, only to get mule-kicked in the jewels by Naitch. Surprisingly big pop for that. At one point, the actions spills outside the ring and actually goes into the crowd! DX Triple H and the Nature Boy Buddy Rogers are kicking each others’ asses all over the Slaughtahouse! Bobby Heenan can only coach and watch from the sidelines.

Highlight of the match comes with the Heenan-DX Triple H interplay, that ultimately allows Buddy Rogers to corral Triple H’s infamous sledgehammer and USE IT AGAINST HIM in a shocking and heinous fashion. Rogers smashes DX Triple H in the back of the knee while he’s distracted by the Weasel at ringside. From there, it’s just a deliberate and devastating attack on DX Triple H’s surgically repaired knee, climaxing with a steel ring-post assisted Figure 4 leglock. But of course, with the fans passion behind him, DX Triple H makes the brazen comeback with a few false hope spots. But it’s all for naught, as “Nature Boy” Buddy Rogers finally gets the Figure 4 pinfall/submission victory when DX Triple H passes out from the pain and gets pinned (while Heenan pulls Rogers arms for extra leverage, of course)!!!

The Winner (and UNDISPUTED World’s Heavyweight Champion): “NATURE BOY” BUDDY ROGERS!!!


10) JOHN CENA versus ABDULLAH the BUTCHER (w/ TGF)
Last Man Standing Match for the World Championship

versus with

Back to the IWC for this one.


The pattern continued as Abdullah rammed Cena into the ringside steps in the opening two minutes. Cena clutched his mid-section. Cena came back at 4:00 and snapped The Butcher's throat over the top rope, then threw the ring steps over the top rope at The Grand Wizard. The replay from the side made the stair-impact look much better. Abdullah attempted to charge Cena in the corner against the ring steps, but Cena moved and threw the steps at him. The Butcher caught him and slammed him a minute later. Cena came back with a knee to Abdullahs crotch, then slammed him into the steps in mid-ring. The ref began counting both men down. Cena gave The Butcher a Five-Knuckle Shuffle as he was on the steps. Cena went for an FU onto the steps, but he fell face-first onto the steps with Abdullahs weight under him. Cena came up bleeding at 14:00. Cena made a superman comeback at 15:00, no-selling Abdullahs punches. Cena charged at The Butcher but he reversed him into a Samoan drop where Cena appeared to land awkwardly (but seemed okay afterward, just selling normally). Abdullah signaled for the fork and spike. A very bloody Cena sat up and then got to his feet at the eight count. Cena blocked the spike.

Abdullah headbutted him, then hung him upside down in a corner. When he charged, Cena moved. Then Cena came off the top rope with a legdrop to Abdullahs head. He followed by grabbing a monitor from the ringside table. He swung the monitor at Abdullahs skull which was next to the ringpost. The camera angle didn't reveal whether the monitor hit Abdullah or just the ringpost. The Butcher fell backward, then Cena entered the ring and knocked him to the floor. Cena dove at The Butcher but he caught him and rammed him back-first into the ringpost. The Grand Wizard set Cena face-down on an announce table. Abdullah the Butcher then used the other two tables as a runway and charged at Cena with a splash. Cena moved and Abdullah flattened the announce table. Cool spot. Nice use of the rare case of three tables all lined up. The ref counted to nine, but Abdullah stood just at ten. MSD yelled, "It's over!" The Grand Wizard dismantled the top rope.
The Butcher then grabbed the turnbuckle itself to use as a very special Samoan spike. Cena caught him as he charged and gave him an FU. Cena knocked TFG off the ring apron, then hit Abdullah with the turnbuckle, then applied an STFU while choking him with the top rope. Abdullah the Butcher passed out as Cena yanked back and screamed. Cena let go, and Abdullah began to stand up. Cena reapplied the choke with the top rope. The ref then began to count again. Cena stood slowly and looked on as the ref reached ten to end the match.

WINNER: Cena in 25:00 to retain the Title.

STAR RATING: ****3/4 -- Really good Last Man Standing match. When Abdullah began to stand up, it almost seemed like it might have been because he got disoriented and forgot to stay down. That choke out with the top rope looked pretty vicious. The use of the dismantled top rope and turnbuckle was memorable and novel.

Wade Keller

CITY of CHAMPIONS PPV OUTRO

IN OTHER NEWS...

First off, big apologies for all for skipping a weekend update to the website... I'm sure you don't care about my busy life, but I had honestly wanted to do a quick update on Saturday to make sure the BCCW PPV got "front page" status here on the OO heading into the PPV.

As it turned out, I got sucked into travelling my own "path of rage" on Friday night, as we hit about 8 bars on something of a farewell tour to a friend who is leaving Dayton for Milwaukee Saturday morning came around after only 3 hours sleep; and I had agreed to spend the day in the studio playing bass for one of the bands I used to play for. That made for a long day. So in lieu of doing a late afternoon/early evening update to the webpage, I napped so I could be a 60 minute man and all night long later in the evening. So sue me. And Sunday I was too busy trying to figure out how to witness CITY of CHAMPIONS live to do an update on the web page.

So there... enough lame excuses for you?

Lame excuses aside, the big news for the OO Weekly is last night's BCCW “CITY of CHAMPIONS”PPV. After being told over the phone by my cable company on Thursday that they had reversed their standing decision not to air BCCW, I anxiously watched hour upon hour of the Sneak Prevue channel to find the phone number for ordering the event. I never saw it. So early Sunday, I phoned in some favors, made use of the old friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend network, and eventually arranged to see the the PPV at the house of a very casual acquaintance who happened to have one of those cool dish systems. Moral of the story: as far as I can tell, TCI's Dayton office is infested by a bunch of lying ingrates. They will hear from me. I am not so much angry that they didn't offer the event (since I got to see it anyway) as I am that they apparently saw fit to lie to me regarding the availability of the event.

But hey, like I said, the story has a happy ending. I saw the show, albeit in unique environs. And I enjoyed it. I think CITY of CHAMPIONS was as good as ”Respect the Shooters & Hookers” was in terms of presenting a totally unique and kick-ass feel; but in terms of satisfying their regular viewers who had been following storylines and were into the characters, this was a show that was definitely a Thumbs Up. This was a show that – like ”Respect the Shooters & Hookers” -- would earn BCCW new fans from the legions of WWE/TNA-watching viewers.

A couple of general comments to start off: the Slaughtahouse venue looked good. It's an actual arena. The pacing of the show was really well done; in between matches, they'd cut back for a quick bit of info (be it an interview regarding an upcoming match, or the tracking of the New Jack's whereabouts), but then shoot it right back to the ring. There's something to be said about keeping things moving from match to match; the Big Two could take notes on the proper time and place to use lengthy history packages (hint: it's on the preview show, not on the PPV itself).

And with those comments aside, here's a rundown of
BCCW’s “City of Champions”: * Evan Bourne & Mil Mascaras beat The Diamond Dynasty (Wade Barrett & Ted Dibiase Jr)

• Alexxis Neveah defeated Sammi Lane (w/ “Adorable” Adrian Adonis) to regain World Women’s Wrestling championship.

• “Vicious” Vic Grimes beat Lizzy Borden & The Messiah to win the King of the Death Match title.

• Little-known wrestling rookie RYAN DANGERFIELD won the Money-in-the-Bank match in a shocking upset.

• The Trust Busters (Lou Thesz & Jack Swagger) beat Gold Dust Trio Inc enforcers Ed “the Strangler” Lewis & Desmond Wolfe – but were then beaten down and stretchered out to end the segment.

• The Straight Edge Society jumped “The Boogie Woogie Man” Jimmy Valiant and shaved his head.

• Masahiko Kimura tapped out Rikidozan in a potential match-of-the-millennium candidate.

• “Nature Boy” Buddy Rogers won his Title Unification bout against DX Triple H.

• John Cena defeated Abdullah the Butcher in a Last Man Standing match, but Gold Dust Trio Inc has promised this is far from over.


And that's that. Quite a show. If you're starting to think that BCCW on PPV is, indeed, a good thing, then make sure you clear this month on your calendars, as that's when BCCW returns to PPV from urban Brockton MA.

* On a note related to BCCW PPV availability: while dealing with TCI cable, I was told by a local customer service rep that the decision to not air BCCW was a "corporate" one, not made at the local level. That was also a lie; according to several TCI employees who've e-mailed me, there has never been anything circulated regarding an official TCI decision against BCCW. I think this is something that I'll just have to deal with at the local level. In the meantime, keep working on *your* local cable distributors and make sure that you won't get shut out of the next BCCW PPV.

* And on a final note related to the BCCW PPV, I asked in the OO Weekly Poll last week whether or not you fans thought that something as extreme as the Money-in-the-Bank or King of the Death Match title was appropriate for PPV or not. You all weighed in, and all seem to think that PPV is ready for barbed wire; 84% of you said you'd be willing to see something like that on PPV TV. You can go to the OO Readers' Forum to see full results and also to vote in the NEW poll this week.

RICK SCAIA




CREDITS

JOHN CENA: June 3 2010 WDFN 1130 AM in Detroit

LOU THESZ: Lee Banaka interviews

WADE KELLER: Royal Rumble 2007 recap

RICK SCAIA: The News From Dayton -- 08/18/97

JACK SWAGGER: Baltimore Sun 4/23/10

NECRO BUTCHER: The Village Voice 3/20/09

DAVE MELTZER (UFC 52 Recap)

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Death of a Hero

 

DEATH OF A HERO
Gavin Marshall


There was a damp chill in the December air as the mourners murmuring in hushed tones of reverence and disbelief, clustered forlornly in the compound of Tokyo's Ikegami Honmonji Temple. Wreaths in such profusion as to suggest a state funeral lined the compound walls. Fashioned like giant flowers and mounted on stilts, the puffs of color contrasted brilliantly with the gray sky. All through the long afternoon the mourners came. They filed in by the thousands, crowding the pagoda-like temple and then moving restlessly around the compound, looking solemn and stunned and lost. They had come to honor a man they regarded even more highly than the storied samurai warriors of old - a man whose very name, Rikidozan (meaning "rugged mountain road"), attested to his towering strength. It was a mighty tribute to Rikidozan, who almost singly-handedly had fathered and nurtured modern wrestling in Japan. But the homage was even more impressive in view of his background.

Though born in Nagasaki in Kyushu, Rikidozan was of Korean descent. And in Japan, Koreans are usually objects of contempt, often discriminated against. Rikidozan fought hard to overcome this stigma. In the process, he developed a trigger-like temper, rebelled constantly against authority. "Nobody tells me what to do" he used to boast. In later years, after he had become a millionaire through extensive business interests, he contributed lavishly to charities. Yet he continued to thrive on violence both in and out of the ring. Characteristically, he met death in the same way - in the chrome-striped restroom of a plush Tokyo nightclub - when he defiantly refused to knuckle under to a knife-wielding gangster. It was an inglorious end for a national hero who had battled to success from an impoverished childhood. Riki, who was given the Japanese name of Mitsuhiro Momata (literally "Bright Child of the Hundred Ricefields"), never dwelled on his early years. But he was known to have been a sullen, bad-tempered youth who, shunned by his prejudiced schoolmates and deserted by his parents, left home at the age of 13 and journeyed 800 miles to Tokyo.

Seeing a living - and an outlet for his repressed hostilities – he enrolled in a sumo training gymnasium and after three years of incredibly arduous training was ready for his first match. All the bitterness erupted out of him as he tackled his opponent. Riki now weighed 300 pounds, with the big, blubbery but tough-as-steel belly characteristic of sumo wrestlers. Despite his weight, blown up from downing 18 rice bowls and four cases of beer at a single sitting, he was as fast and agile as a cat. He could run the hundred yards in 11 seconds flat and was so superbly trained that he could write a letter by holding a pen between his powerful toes. Riki pounded his foes savagely, with every blow, every kick, he avenged the hardships he had suffered in the gymnasium - getting up at 2 AM to work outside in the freezing cold... smoldering at a thousand humiliations... absorbing insults and beatings from advanced classmates... well, things were going to be different from now on, he vowed, as the fans hailed his victory. With dynamic drive, he battled his way up in the sumo ranks.  At 23, he make the sekiwake grade and was on the verge of entering the ozeki domain which would put in line for the grand championship. Then he destroyed a brilliant future by quarreling in the gymnasium official over a technical decision. In a rage, he quit sumo forever.

Out of a job and missing the adulation of the fans, Riki was at a loss in the big metropolis. But not for long. Tokyo was starting to boom - it was during the MacArthur occupation - and he easily found work as a construction laborer. Swallowing his disappointment, he worked for a year. In his spare time, he continued to train hard, concentrating on karate, the deadly art of open-handed fighting that later became his trademark. Then, with a small nestegg, he rented a hall for wrestling exhibitions. In no time he built up a rabid following. As his fame spread, he accepted an offer from promoter Al Karasick in Honolulu. Riki was a sensation there. He followed with triumphal tours, capturing a fistful of titles all over the world, beating Haystacks Calhoun, Freddie Blassie and even the great Lou Thesz. He was now down to 250 lbs. A siege of illness had melted off 50 pounds and Riki decided to stay that weight after he saw what happened to Tamanishiki, a prominent sumo wrestling. Tamanishiki - a 400 pounder - joined his honorable ancestors when doctors were unable to cut through the mountain of blubber during a stomach operation. Except for Thesz, Riki had nothing but contempt for American grapplers. He sneered at their hippodrome showmanship, called them soft compared with the
Japanese. He called Blassie "the dirtiest wrestler" he ever met. In the boxing and wrestling stables that formed part of his vast business empire which also included hotels, night clubs, golf courses and apartment houses, Riki was a hard taskmaster, demanding the utmost from his men and whipping them with a bamboo stick when they failed to measure up to his stringent standards.

By December 1963, Riki had successfully defended his International Title 19 times. A few days before his death he had told reporters "I am going to the United States again in a few weeks to wrestle Lou Thesz. I hope to bring the world title to Japan". Then, on the night of December 8 tragedy struck. Riki, whose business interests brought him into contact with one of the numerous gangs which dominate Tokyo's night life, was in the restroom of the New Latin Quarter when a gangster approached him. The gangster reportedly warned Rike to "stay out of this territory". Riki, who never took any lip from anybody, told him to go to hell. They tussled. A switchblade flashed... and Riki collapsed, spilling blood. Rushed to the hospital, Riki was told
the wound was minor and would soon heal. But a week later, after bleeding copiously, he died of peritonitis at the age of 39.

Thousands streamed in from all parts of Japan to attend his funeral on December 20. Heading the mourners were his second wife, Keiko and his two sons from a former marriage. Keiko said Riki had planned to retire so he could be with his family. Ironically, he kept delaying the move because he couldn't find a successor he deemed worthy enough to take his place.

quote:

IN OTHER NEWS
The top story this week is going to be something of an OO Editorial Commentary. Some might argue that that's what EVERY BIT of each OO is, but this time, I'm coming right out and labeling it for you. Trust me, there is plenty of real news if you keep reading down....

And just what is it that's important enough for me to go out of my way to editorialize on? Well, put simply, it's the wrestling-related death of Japanese wrestler Rikidozan. I did place a quick blurb about this on the page last Tuesday; it was brief and sketchy, admittedly. Since then, other online sources like Chip Chimney have been able to gather details beyond my initial outline report.

As understanding of exactly what happened increased, so did my desire to address the issue of the genuine danger faced by pro wrestlers inside the ring. You see, the first reports vaguely spoke of Rikidozan passing out [at a nightclub] after a match; but as further details came in, it became apparent that he was brutally stabbed. Despite immediate medical attention, including surgery, he died one week later.

If wrestling were as "fake" as most people would generally like to believe, then something like this would be unthinkable. And even though the true nature of pro wrestling is a lot more "sport" and a lot less "fake" than the mainstream world would have us believe, it's still distressing to be faced with the reality of a situation like this one. When you get right down to it, staring you in the face is the fact that pro wrestling is just as dangerous, if not more so, than any legitimate sport out there.

This is not the first time tragedy has struck in the ring, either. We need only go back to when a Big Japan trainee named Nogai died of head/neck injuries suffered in training. Nor is this the first time a wrestler has died as a result of something that happened in front of a crowd in a competitive match. In late 1993, Oro, a talented Luchadore who was one third of the Los Metallicos team (with his brothers Bronce and Plata), died in the ring during a match in Mexico. My research is inconclusive, but Oro took either a simple chop or dropkick from his opponent, Kahoz, but fell awkwardly. After a brief delay -- during which the other participants in this six-man match assumed Oro was just "selling" the move – it became obvious something was wrong. For all the efforts of the other wrestlers to revive Oro, he was dead before he could even receive proper medical attention. Again, a pre-existing condition was suspected as playing a part in the tragedy, but it was likely a condition that was expedited by Oro's past matches. Bruiser Brody was stabbed to death in Puerto Rico, under similar mysterious circumstances .

This brief overview of tragedies similar to Rikidozan does not even include in-ring deaths unrelated to taking bumps or injury. One example of an in-ring death in that category would that of Larry Cameron -- who briefly wrestled in WCW around 1990. While wrestling in Europe, Cameron suffered a heart attack in the ring, and died before he could receive necessary medical attention. Numerous similar examples pervade the “mythology" of pro wrestling history -- from the in-ring death of "Iron" Mike DiBiase to the pre-title-match heart attack of Buddy Rogers (he still went out and dropped the WWWF Title to Bruno Sammartino in a minute-long match) -- though I will not pretend to be well-versed enough (or old enough) to be 100% accurate in those regards.

The bottom line is we as fans should make sure that we truly understand and appreciate what is going on in a wrestling ring. The tragedies of Rikidozan illustrate that physical danger is a very real element of pro wrestling. It would, perhaps, not be ridiculous to keep this in mind as we're encouraging wrestlers to fly that much higher or hit that much harder. Or at the very least, we should hope that only those most capable (and most healthy) are the ones that fly highest and hit hardest.

* On a somewhat related note, the rumor mill continues to churn in regards to the injured Lou Thesz. The latest word is that his doctors want him to take two months off before coming back to get a final evaluation. And while we might be getting to the point where we completely expect our stars to return quickly and danger-free from "serious" neck injuries (guys like Stevie Richards and Pitbull #1 are examples), let's also keep in mind, especially in light of the discussion on the dangers of the ring above, that there are considerations above and beyond pro wrestling.

It seems most OO Readers agree that they'd prefer not to be discussing the "Lou Thesz tragedy" and wondering what effect a "pre-existing condition" may have had at some point in the future. In the latest OO Weekly Poll, 54% of OO Readers stated that they'd like to see Lou Thesz retire rather than risk life and limb by returning to the ring. The remaining vote was split pretty evenly between those who think that the injury (or at least the extent of the injury) is a work and those who want to see Thesz back in the ring regardless of his medical condition. Be sure to check out the OO Readers' Forum for poll results and the brand new poll question.

RICK SCAIA








CREDITS

RICK SCAIA: The News From Dayton -- 08/25/97

GAVIN MARSHALL: Wrestling Revue April 1964

Shooters Club Press Conference



Addressing the unresolved issues that culminated at “CITY of CHAMPIONS” with a vicious after-the-bell beatdown on the 2010 Trust Busters (Thesz & Swagger). This heinous attack at the hands of Desmond Wolfe and Ed “The Strangler” Lewis (associates and business partners of Gold Dust Trio Inc) has left Undisputed Champion Lou Thesz with several injuries. Will he be forced to retire? Will he resign the Championship, or fight permanent injury to defend it? Also at “CITY of CHAMPIONS”, Masahiko Kimura completed his blood quest and drove the traitorous RIKIDOZAN from the sport. Due to the unfortunate tragedy that befell RIKIDOZAN recently, Kimura refuses to take questions or speak on the man any further. His next mission involves Gold Dust Trio Inc’s hired mercenary ABDULLAH the BUTCHER, who The Grand Wizard has promised will devour Kimura alive.

LOU THESZ: When I was undisputed champion, I weighed 230 lbs. and was considered a pretty good sized heavyweight. But today, why...I would be considered small at 230 pounds. This young man that I am standing with [Jack Swagger] is 6' 4" tall and 275 pounds and he is lean as a greyhound. These people can move around the ring like middleweights, these heavyweights today. And we didn't understand that in the past. We thought that if a fellow got just a little oversized, that we could move around him and ace him out with our speed and expertise. That doesn't seem to be true anymore

JACK SWAGGER: Good Lord willing I’d like to do this [training with the Shooters Club] until I’m financially comfortable and I can venture off and find something else that I’m just as passionate about. But I love this industry, I love working for this company. It would take a lot for me to just hang it up, but it’s not going to last forever and you have to prepare yourself for it. Anything can change at any minute. It’s kind of one of the exciting things about it, but at the same time one of the downsides about it. I see Jack Swagger wrestling for at least another 10 years.

LOU THESZ: Pro wrestling is a fantasy of vulgarity and violence and incorporates all the negatives in our society today - gangs, concern only for number one, sex for individual pleasure, and death. On occasion I watch it, and always with the hope I will see some redeeming character, one positive role model for my grandchildren, one hint of common courtesy or concern for anyone other than self.

Lou Thesz WILL step into the ring at “KNOW the LEDGE” where he will DEFEND his Undisputed Championship against the Gold Dust Trio Inc’s chosen one, DESMOND WOLFE!!! To prove his superiority, skill and natural talent – even in the face of serious injury – LOU THESZ announces their title match will be “Best 2 out of 3 Falls”, just like they used to do back in the old days. Plus, JACK SWAGGER challenges ED “The Strangler” LEWIS – the legendary hooker and shooter, the man who defined pro-wrestling and instilled fear in men around the globe – to a match at “KNOW the LEDGE”. But not just any match – a Submission match, where the only way to win is to squeeze a humiliating, and demeaning submission from your overmatched opponent! The Shooters Club means business! Now, Masahiko Kimura will address the concerns that he will be facing a bloodthirsty savage, unlike any other he’s ever faced. Does he feel overmatched? What strategy will he use to attack the Butcher, who is a world-renowned judo expert? Is he scared???

MASAHIKO KIMURA: If you refuse to fight today, the angry audiences will set fire on the arena. I had sprained my left knee when I demonstrated judo techniques in Rio de Janeiro. But the arena was already full, and over 5000 people were waiting outside the arena. The start time of the match had already passed. The audiences were booing. To the promoter, money is more important than my injury. Eventually, I and Yano were taken to a room where 3 black policemen were gathering. A small man then came out from behind the policemen, and said to me, "You are a Japanese, Mr. Kimura, aren't you? My father is also a Japanese. A while ago, a boxer became unable to show up for a fight due to an injury. The audiences then got angry and set fire on the building. The building was burnt to ash. No one knows who set the fire. Moreover, the boxer got shot with a pistol on his way home. He got killed instantaneously. Nobody knows who shot him either. Mr. Kimura, you'd better show up for the fight. Even if you may lose, it is better than getting shot to death." He also added that he was the only Japanese in this town, and all the rest are blacks.



Now I had to make a decision. My opponent Adema Santana was a 25 year old black man, and was a boxing heavy weight champion. He was 4th dan in judo, and a capoeira champion as well. He was 183cm had a well proportioned impressive physique. His weight was close to 100kg. Bahia, where the match took place, is a port city where black slaves were unloaded. The slaves were forbidden to carry a weapon. As a result, many martial arts were developed by them, I heard. Vale Tudo is one of such martial arts. In the south of Sao Paulo, pro wrestling is popular. But the farther one goes to the north, the more popular Vale Tudo becomes. Helio Gracie, whom I had previously fought, was the champion in Vale Tudo. But Adema Santana challenged him the previous year (Note: 1957), and after 2 hours and 10 min, Helio got kicked in the abdomen, could not get up, and got knocked out. Thus, Adema had become the new champion. In Vale Tudo, no foul is allowed. 1 foul results in an immediate disqualification. No shoes are allowed. When the fighters are separated, they are not allowed to strike with a fist, and they have to use open hand strikes. But once they get in contact with each other, every type of strike is allowed but groin strikes. All types of throws and joint locks are legal. The winner is decided when one of the fighters is KO'd or surrenders. Biting and hair pulling were illegal. Since bare knuckle punches are traded, taking direct 2 or 3 hits in the eye means the end of the fight. I was told there have been many cases in which a fighter got hit in the eye with an elbow, and the eyeball popped out from the socket by half, and got carried to the hospital by an ambulance. Therefore, there were always 2 ambulances at the entrance of the arena.

"I have no choice. I will fight." I said. Then, the promoter grinned, took out a form and told me to sign it. Yano translated the content, which said, "Even if I die in this match, it is what I intended, and will not make anyone accountable for my death." I nodded, and signed the form. On my way to the ring, someone raised his arm and waved at me. It was Helio Gracie, whom I had not seen for several years. Helio was at the radio broadcast seat. He was the commentator of the match. The gong rang. Adema and I circled the ring first. I lightly extended my fingers in a half-body posture, and prepared for his kicks. Adema, also in a half-body posture, had tucked his chin, tightened his underarms, as he would do in a boxing match. Once in a while, he delivered high kicks to my face. I blocked the kicks with my hands, and returned a kick with my right leg. Adema started to deliver right and left round house kicks. I stepped back and dodged them, but suddenly, I received a fire-like impact on my face. It was an open hand strike. I had overlooked his hand motion, paying too much attention to his kicks. When I got hit in the temple, and the core of my head became a blur, left and right round house kicks came. When I blocked his right kick with my left hand, a tremendous pain ran through from the tip of the little finger to the back of the hand. I had jammed the finger. I traded kicks with him. The entire audiences were standing with excitement. Even in this situation, I was able to think clearly. While I was thinking "Adema is one level higher than I both in kicks and open hand strikes. In order to win, I must take the fight to the ground", another fast kick flew at my abdomen.




I struck the kick down with left knife hand, and jumped in to deliver a head butt on his abdomen with a momentum that could penetrate through his body. This must have had an effect on him. He covered his abdomen, and stepped back while wobbling. I wanted to get close to him, throw him, get on top of him, and use Newaza. If I succeed in this, I could use elbow strikes and head butts. Adema recovered from the damage, and delivered a kick to my face again. I ducked the kick, and jumped in for a clinch. I got in a tight clinch to prevent him from using knee kicks or elbow strikes. We traversed along the rope. All of a sudden, I received a head cracking impact. I experienced a tremendous ear ringing, and got momentarily unconscious. I received a head butt on my left temple. It was a head butt from a side. I had thought that all the head butts would come from front. I never knew a side head butt. "I cannot lose here. I must win even if I may die", I thought. Driven by this willpower, I tried to find a way to fight back. The referee then came in between to separate us. We were already covered with blood. The fight was brought back to the center of the ring again. Adema threw a right open hand strike. I caught the arm and attempted Ippon-seoi. It seemed like I could score a clean throw. However, it was a miscalculation. We were both heavily covered with sweat as if a large amount of water had been poured onto our heads. Moreover, he had no jacket on. There was no way such a technique could have worked under these conditions. His arm slipped through, and my body rotated in the air once forward, and landed on my back. "I screwed up!" I shouted in my mind, but it was too late. Adema immediately jumped at me. If he got on my chest, he could freely strike my eyes, nose, and chest with his elbows. I caught him in a body scissors. I squeezed his body with full force hoping to sever his intestine. Adema crumbled momentarily, but did not surrender. Since the body scissors did not finish him, I realized that I was in a disadvantageous position. When I lifted my head, hundreds of stars flew out of my eyes. I took a straight punch between my nose and my eyes. It was an accurate intense punch. The back of my head got slammed onto the mat.


Moreover, an intense head butt attacked my abdomen. It felt like my organs would be torn into pieces. Once, twice, I hardened my abdominal muscles to withstand the impact, and waited for the 3rd attack. At the moment the 3rd head butt came, my right fist accurately caught Adema's face by counter. It landed between his nose and eyes. Blood splattered. I had also already been heavily covered with blood. The blood interfered with my vision. "Kill him, kill him!" the devil in my mind screamed. Adema wobbled, and stepped back, and tried to run with the ropes on his back. I chased him throwing kicks and open hand strikes. He returned head butts and elbow strikes. But, neither of us was able to deliver a decisive strike. Maybe we were both exhausted, or maybe the blood in our eyes prevented us from aiming clearly at the target. After all, the 40 minutes ran out, and the match ended in a draw. It was my first Vale Tudo experience. That night, my face was badly swollen. I had a number of cuts on my face. Every time I breathed, an excruciating pain ran through my belly, and I could not sleep. I received an injection from a doctor, and cooled my belly with a cold towel all night. However, I learned a very important lesson in this fight. That is, one must never fear death. If I had not had the iron will to fight despite the possibility of getting killed, his head butts would have torn my intestine into pieces.

[Cut to commercial]

THE FOUNDING FATHER
Unraveling the tangled past of Gold Dust Trio Inc founder Mister Mondt


Professional wrestling is deceptive in more ways than one. Although it seems as if it has changed drastically from even, say, ten years ago, in truth it has not really changed one iota. Wrestling follows the same formula it has followed since 1919. While there have been additions, subtractions and other modifications during the years between then and today, the same basic rules apply.

I know the counter-arguments. The same basic formula since 1919? Didn’t wrestling evolve? What about television in the Forties? What about the cable television revolution? What about Pay-Per-View? What about Vince McMahon? What about merchandising? What about... yada, yada, yada. My reply is this: modern professional wrestling was the brainchild of one lone genius. That genius was Joseph "Toots" Mondt.






In our relentless quest to bring you the latest and most ground-breaking developments in BCCW (and in turn - wrestling history), we have unearthed more information on Mister Mondt: founder of the Gold Dust Trio Inc and perhaps THE most revolutionary name in pro wrestling history.

One of the paradoxes of professional wrestling as we know it today was that it did not evolve from earlier forms. The idea of modern wrestling sprang full-blown from the head of Mondt like Athena from Zeus. The other, seamier (if that is possible) side of wrestling, promoter politics, while not invented by Mondt, was nevertheless refined by him into the Fine Art of the Screw Job. Many an "ingrate" wrestler was cheated of his rightful purse or glory because a) he refused to play along; (b) he was demanding too much money (i.e., his just share); or (c) expediency. One must therefore imagine Mondt’s utter surprise when the same thing was done to him by one of his prize pupils. His reaction? Just like one of the boys. Sit back and take orders from the new boss. The monster he had helped create claimed him as another of its many victims.

Before we examine his achievement, let’s first examine Mondt himself. Toots was born Joseph Raymond Mondt on a farm in Iowa in 1886. Where in Iowa Toots never made clear, although he would often bill himself from Humboldt, as did probably every other wrestler who hailed from Iowa. At any rate, Mondt’s father went broke as an Iowa farmer and moved the family to Greeley, Colorado, where he pursued a livelihood in the mines. Not wishing to spend the rest of his days in Greeley, Toots began learning the art of wrestling via correspondence courses from Farmer Burns. He combined this teaching with the strong body shaped from the family farm and made his debut in Greeley at the age of 16 taking on a carnival wrestler.

When the carnival left town it had a new employee. Toots worked a lot of carnivals over the years, for the mortality rate of carnivals, due to police activity, was extremely high. He would also try his hand in vaudeville as an acrobat, but he was unable to work his way past the lowest depths of the vaudevillian caste system. His big break came when he returned to carnival wrestling. There he was discovered by Burns during one of Burns’ many scouting trips. Working with Burns was the wrestling equivalent of a Ph.D. program and served Mondt well. Burns was also responsible for Mondt’s nickname. Mondt was the youngest wrestler in the Burns camp, and the nickname "Toots" had to do either with his small feet or his relative youth and baby face, depending which story you care to believe. Were it not for the tutelage of Burns it’s doubtful Toots would have graduated to the next level and professional wrestling wouldn’t be in the form we know it as today.

Enter the year 1919. Up until this time wrestling contests were slow-moving exhibitions mainly confined to the mat and lasting, on average, 60 minutes. Crowds no longer found this to be suitable entertainment and accordingly they began to dwindle. Thus, with the time was right for a new approach.This new approach came from the fertile mind of Mondt, though not all at once. Mondt joined the camp of Ed "Strangler" Lewis on the recommendation of Burns and fit right in, serving in various capacities as sparring partner, trainer, sometime opponent and valuable policeman. Few wrestlers were as tough as Toots and he made sure that every Lewis opponent knew the "rules" of that night’s contest. As a sparring partner and trainer, he helped Lewis develop new holds and counters. As a pro wrestler, Toots was there when Lewis had trouble finding an opponent, for Toots lost to no one but the Strangler, giving the match a little juice at the gate.

Lewis and his manager/partner Billy Sandow were having trouble in getting Lewis’ claim to the heavyweight championship (won in a 1915 Jack Curley-sponsored tournament in New York City) recognized. Each promoter for the most part worked independently of other promoters and each had his own champ. Even Curley refused to recognize Lewis’ claim, having his own champion in Joe Stecher. This created a problem for the independent operator. Because he worked on a percentage of the gate, it was important to build up his matches. But this method was haphazard at best. Lewis could spend valuable time building up a match against Charley Cutler in New York and see it all come for naught when Cutler loses to Joe Stecher the week before. Word of Cutler’s loss would inevitably reach the Big Apple before the match resulting in a small gate and a small payoff for Lewis.
 

Given the size of the problem, Mondt’s solution was downright ingenuous. First, he convinced Sandow and Lewis that the days of wrestling in its current form were numbered. If they were to get the crowds, they had to change the style to meet the new expectations. Mondt’s suggestion was to combine features of boxing, Greco-Roman wrestling, freestyle wrestling and the old-time lumber-camp style of fighting into what Mondt termed "Slam Bang Western Style Wrestling." This is essentially the form of wrestling we know today, save for the addition of acrobatics.

Next, reasoned Mondt, why were Sandow and Lewis allowing promoters to control them? With a little planning, they could be the ones calling the shots. Mondt simply reached back into his vaudeville days and conceived the plan to promote wrestlers and wrestling bouts on the same scale as vaudeville acts were booked and staged. He, Sandow and Lewis would act as a central booking agency and with the contacts they had among the wrestlers, the plan could be pulled off with little trouble. To the credit of Mondt’s partners, they didn’t need a lot of wattage in order to see the light. They immediately set about convincing other wrestlers about the advantages of the new style of wrestling and signed hundreds of them to contracts. Under Sandow, Lewis and Mondt, the boys would be well paid and paid timely, no longer subject to the whims of a promoter. Within only six months Sandow was the new czar of wrestling. By signing every wrestler he saw, Sandow decimated the talent pools of the other promoters. Meanwhile, the new style of Slam-Bang Wrestling was completely over with the fans, drawing huge gates and providing sweet payoffs for the hundreds of new employees on Sandow’s payroll.

In the short space of only six months the trio of Lewis, Mondt and Sandow controlled the course of professional wrestling in America. More importantly, they also moved their product out of the burlesque theaters and back alley halls to the major sports venues in each city they promoted. It didn’t take long for the Gold Dust Trio (as they were nicknamed by sportswriters) to build their empire, but as with any successful revolution, the secret came not in gaining the prize, but in holding onto it. This was where the Trio made their mark on the history of wrestling. All new talent was tested in Sandow’s private ring. Routines and finishes were carefully worked out, most by Toots himself. Characters were refined. The art of "working" was born. When two men faced each other in the ring, each knew the other’s ability and style, and the best man usually won. To Sandow’s credit, a merit system was established. The best workers were kept on top. Those who had color but lacked ability were kept off the top rung. They became "ethnic" wrestlers; given a name and character to fit whatever crowd they were aimed at. Oh sure, the ethnic wrestler might receive a title shot now and then, but would never hold a title. The public would never buy an ethnic wrestler as champion and Sandow knew it. Any ethnic wrestler who possessed exceptional ability was "de-ethnicized," a lesson they learned when the failed to do so with Stan Zbyszko, one of their rare failures. Lewis would hold the belt for now, and when they determined that the public was tiring of the champ, a new champ, an all-American champ, would be selected to take the crown. All other good ethnic wrestlers would be built up as local favorites and given shots at the champ whenever he wandered into their area. Sandow’s conviction was that only a wrestler of exceptional ability should be champion. This was the reason Lewis dominated the belt during the Twenties. It lent an air of legitimacy to the proceedings and convinced the public everything was on the level. The point was no longer in the contest, but in how the contest went over.




In the new jargon of wrestling, a "program" was a series of bouts whose ultimate result was to build up a suitable opponent for the champ to meet when he came to town. The wrestler to be built up would be receiving a "push." He would work the program with another well-heralded matman, well-regarded with the fans, so when the man to be pushed went over, the fans accepted it. If the man to be pushed wasn’t going over with the fans, wasn’t getting that all-important "heat" (fan excitement), then he would work the job to his opponent. The fans always came first.

If one wrestler "hooked" (double-crossed) another, he would usually come face to face with the "policeman" in his next bout. The policeman knew everything he needed to about this rogue grappler because the policeman was usually the one who broke the wrestler in and trained him. That policeman was none other than Mondt himself, for that was Tootsie’s role in the organization. The match would be a "shoot," meaning on the level, at least on the part of the policeman. Mondt was so feared and respected that he rarely if ever had to engage in these kinds of matches. Besides, under the Sandow-Lewis-Mondt regime the boys were paid so much better that only a few had any reason at all to grumble. Sandow came up with an innovation so radical that it won the boys over without complaint: the regular paycheck. Wrestlers never had to worry where their next payoff was coming from or by who, or whether the promoter had absconded with the box-office receipts during the bouts. Sandow’s system led to the saying "loyal as his last paycheck."

This system worked so well that wrestling played to healthy crowds during the Twenties. Many fans became hooked on the weekly doings at their arena no matter how many times they saw their favorites wrestle each other. Another factor that made the fans come back for more was the complete absence of any form of wagering at the arena. Sandow hated betting, believing it gave his product a bad odor. Wrestlers and promoters who broke this taboo soon found themselves on the outside looking in. Wrestling for Sandow was "worked," not crooked.

While a good thing can’t be expected to last forever, the way in which the Gold Dust trio’s empire dissolved was positively ludicrous. A power struggle developed between Toots and Sandow’s brother Max that quickly led into a "him or me" demand by Mondt. To Mondt’s surprise, Sandow chose his brother and Toots was out in the cold - but not for long. He soon hooked up with Philadelphia impresario Ray Fabiani. Fabiani, one of the promoters who had to accept whatever he was given during the glory days of the Gold Dust Trio, snapped at the chance to be Mondt’s partner. Mondt for his part chose Fabiani because of his political connections in Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware. The new combination wasted no time in choosing their new titleholder, Dick Shikat, a former circus strongman originally from Germany. When they determined Shikat’s reign as champion had run his course, they made Jim Londos the new champ and struck it rich as Londos became wrestling’s first matinee idol. Sandow and Lewis, on the other hand, allied themselves with Paul Bowser of Boston and put over another ex-college football player, Gus Sonnenberg, as their new champion. This partnership would end in 1931 when Bowser pulled the rug out from his partners in putting Henri DeGlane over on Lewis as champ in a crooked bout. Lewis and Sandow went into eclipse while Mondt’s star continued its rise.

With the immensely popular Londos as champ, Mondt and Fabiani consolidated their hold on the Northeast. From their base in Philadelphia, they moved north to New York City and Hartford, and south to Baltimore and Washington, D.C. This is as far as Toots wished to expand; he had seen the pitfalls of a national operation from being involved with Lewis and Sandow. New York City was the toughest market to crack, controlled for many years by the formidable Jack Curley, who could often call on help from Bowser in Boston. Bowser, who did not like the fact the Mondt and Fabiani were invading his New England territory, gave Curley as much help as he could in repelling the invaders from Philadelphia.

For their part, Mondt and Fabiani had help in the form of Rudy Dusek, Jack Pfeffer, the Johnston Brothers, and Jess McMahon, who worked for the noted boxing promoter Tex Rickard. (Rickard, who despised wrestling, kept the game out of Madison Square Garden from 1939-48, claiming low attendance as the reason.) But the man who ultimately helped Toots triumph in the Big Apple was none other than Bernarr McFadden. McFadden, a physical culturalist and former wrestler turned millionaire cum philanthropist. In the Twenties, McFadden opposed the Gold Dust Trio, but different times bring different attitudes. Nursing a grudge against Curley, McFadden bankrolled Mondt’s invasion of New York. By the early Forties, Curley’s organization was gone and Toots reigned supreme.

CREDIT:

The Phantom of the Ring, "The Founding Father," Wrestling Perspective,
Volume VIII, Number 68, (1997): 9 - 11.


 


Collect Call from Walpole prison. Give New Jack a live mic (or even a call-in radio spot like this) and watch the sparks fly. Nothing escapes his brutal tongue; nothing is too taboo or PC for New Jack to attack. And in the gruesome world of underground Death Matches, nothing is sacred. God? Religion? Politics? Nothing raises the ire of the IWC anymore – nothing is too controversial. Unless you’re New Jack. And your topic is the 3-year anniversary of Chris Benoit’s double murder/suicide. Let the FCC complaints begin…

NEW JACK: Nancy was a goddamn friend of mine, aiight. She was a friend of mine, and I worked with her and Chris at the same time. She was more of a friend of mine than that motherfucker was. And I don't give a fuck what she did; I don't give a fuck what she said, she didn't... what he did to her didn't justify - I don't give a fuck what it was. If she was off into some S and M shit, trust me, it didn't just start that motherfucking night, and it ended that motherfucking night. That motherfucker Chris was off into some mental shit all by himself. Fuck steroids, because somebody in this room done steroids before, and not just me - and you know what? I ain't never been convicted of choking no ho and killing her fucking kid, no. "The kid didn't deserve to get killed, and she didn't deserve to get killed either, because first of all, you look at him. If the bitch mouth is that big, and you can't take it, then bitch, go and get the fuck on. If you got to smack the bitch upside the head, smack the bitch upside the head and go and get the fuck on. But it took a motherfucking straight one hundred percent uncut fucking coward to do what that motherfucker did.

And it's motherfuckers that keep coming out to this day talking about what kind of a guy he was; that he was a good guy. Man, suck my dick. What you choke a kid's life, out his motherfucking body, and this kid's got your posters up on his wall, and got your action figures up, and your belt, and your wife is depending on you to take care of them and provide for them, even though she might have a big-ass motherfucking mouth, it ain't a motherfucking that that can justify you choking the life out that bitch and shooting you kid up with motherfucking Xanax and killing him too - I don't give a fuck. "And 'to death do us part' ain't nothing but some shit that somebody motherfucking wrote in a goddamn book or on a motherfucking piece of paper. If you can't take what the bitch is doing, if a smack don't goddamn do it, then leave that motherfucking bitch. "And then his daddy comes on TV and tries to justify by saying, 'oh, he did the ECW, and that wasn't nothing but garbage wrestling because he got hit upside the head'. I'll show you ten tapes of Chris getting hit upside the head; I'll show you ten tapes of Chris putting his motherfucking hand in the way and his hand taking the shot. That motherfucker didn't never get hit with no motherfucking chair shot till his head crack, goddammit. He ain't never get hurt to that motherfucking level. I cracked my motherfucking skull and had shit coming out my nose, my ears and my fucking mouth. Didn't know who I was for goddamn four or five months - and it aint no... none of my kids ain't still living to this motherfucking day.

So you know what? The day that he killed both of them, all the goddamn credit to him goes out the motherfucking window. Chris Benoit, I hope your motherfucking ass - if there is a heaven or a hell, I hope you go to hell and catch the fuck on fire for eternity motherfucker, because there ain't a motherfucking thing. And for all them motherfuckers trying to cover up for you and justify for you - fuck you and fuck them too. And for motherfuckers with Vince - like Vince - that tried to make excuses for you, fuck that motherfucker too, I'm sorry. I seen that shit as a kid growing up with my momma and fucking daddy and fuck that bullshit. I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck. Nancy did not deserve to get the life choked out of her because you were on some psychotic shit. I don't give a fuck what nobody say. And for all you handpicked motherfuckers that Vince put on those fucking talkshows, and goddamn put Benoit over, I hope your kids born fucking retarded, because the shit didn't make no sense. From John Cena, all down to everybody else, talking about 'he was a good guy'. From fucking, the Million Dollar Man dude, talking about, 'he was a good guy'. Motherfucker, when you killed your seven year old son and when you choked the life out of your fucking wife, it ain't a montherfucking thing good should have came out of nobody's mouth about your punk ass. And I hope the maggots eat your motherfucking ass slow, you cocksucking motherfucker.

And just like everybody else knew - the shit that Vince did, you still got away with it. Because it was a big thing in the news at one time, and all of a sudden, it died down, and it's WWE back to fucking normal, and it's the same thing. You got away again, with fucking murder. And Vince McMahon, you and the motherfuckers that work with you, all of you got blood on your hands, 'cause all of you motherfuckers is crooked and you just keep getting away with fucking murder. Yo had that cocksucker Brian, something or other, from Figure Four, something or other, whatever that bullshit was - Brian Alvarez - he come on talking about when Kronus died, talking about 'oh, it was drugs in ECW, and they ran rampant, and they were at ringside.' He a goddamn liar. Because bitch, I worked for ECW from 2000, I mean from ninety-motherfucking-four, ninety-five to 2000, and the only motherfucker died was motherfucking Louie Spicolli - the only one. But you look at the motherfuckers that work for fucking Vince ends up fucking dying, you goddamn cocksucker, you're averaging three a goddamn year. So gaddamn, do the motherfucking math. And then you pretend that you fire the motherfuckers on steroids - you didn't fire no-fucking-body. You took a piss test - anybody can piss in a motherfucking cup and put somebody else's name on it. That ain't a motherfucking test. That ain't a drug test, that's bullshit. You got people working in you fucking office - their job is to do office work and stay fucking clean, so Test can goddamn piss goddamn clean. And trust me, when you gave Test his name, you didn't give that motherfucker his name because Test, because he got good grades in fucking high school, motherfucker. He was a goddamn steroid freak, and you fucking know it. You ass done got away with murder, and you're gonna have to answer to some-fucking-body, somewhere, one motherfucking day. You're gonna have to. And I don't give a fuck what none of y'all say, but you look at your fucking track record. And you stand there and you pretend that you fire bodies - you didn't fire nobody. You paid off some contracts, you sent some people home early, you paid their contract up, and you was like, instead of like, 'I'm not gonna renew your shit any-fucking-way, so here you go. I need to let some of you go, here you go. Oh, by the way - y'all get sent home with pay.'

Bitch, I would not play the game like that. And for all you motherfuckers that are still playing it, and still up on the fence with the nuts resting on your forehead, you motherfuckers ought to tuck your dick between your legs and duct tape it, and run around the house and rub peanut better on you, 'cause you ain't a fucking man. You's a bunch of goddamn fucking cowards. Chris Benoit, you was a fucking coward. You was a straight fucking coward. Choke your fucking wife till she fucking... till the life left her body. You choke your son till the life left his body. And then you took a fucking cable, put it round your neck, and had the nerve to put some padding betwen it, just in case the bitch didn't go right. Fuck you.



CREDITS:
JACK SWAGGER: Baltimore Sun April 23, 2010
LOU THESZ: Pro American Wrestling Association (PAWA) 1985 & Wrestling Classics
MASAHIKO KIMURA: My Judo
NEW JACK: Shoot interview with the Iron Sheik and Honky Tonk Man.

TOOTS MONDT background: The Phantom of the Ring, "The Founding Father," Wrestling Perspective,
Volume VIII, Number 68, (1997): 9 - 11.

SOUTHERN RIOT

Southern Riot
RUCKUS of the BLK MOBB

NEW YORK TIMES account of the FABULOUS FREEBIRDS/BLK MOBB race riot

Michael Hayes got hurt, I believe, to the point where it wasn't part of the act. Blood began to flow, and they immediately began to hit a little harder than they were supposed to, or something. And Hayes got, obviously, a little pissed off . . . And he grabbed Ruckus, -- and this just couldn't be in an act. (Things were beginning to be thrown by then, I believe). Hayes just put his right arm around Ruckus’ head, and from the middle of the ring, ran him right into a ringpost. Head-first, the top of his head. And the blood was now pouring down Ruckus’ face. The people started coming down the aisle towards the ring, and that's when you're in trouble. And it got totally out of hand. I've covered riots in other sporting events other than that. That was the worst riot situation I was ever in, because -- had we not gotten the hell out of there, we could have been very seriously hurt. Those big wooden chairs were flying towards the ring.

* Gordon S. White, Jr., sportswriter for the NY Times

THE HOTTEST EVENT of the SUMMER

In a massive attack on Women’s wrestling, ALEXXIS NEVEAH is looking for that 3rd lucky charm at “KNOW the LEDGE”. She blazed to glory at “RESPECT the SHOOTERS & HOOKERS” – defended her title at “CITY of CHAMPIONS” – and now, 3rd time is the charm. At “KNOW the LEDGE”, WWW champion ALEXXIS NEVEAH will defend her title in a 3-Way Elimination Dance against rivals LIZZY BORDEN and SAMMI LANE (forever escorted by the “Adorable” Adrian Adonis). We got these three ladies together for a brief conference call before the big event. Here’s what they had to say:

versus versus

SAMMI LANE: I first saw an indy show in 4th grade, since my dad knew the Astroman. It was pretty entertaining, but my mom kept me on track with my ballroom dancing. Fast forward to 7th grade. I started watching WWE around the time of the WCW/ECW invasion, and was hooked! I saw how driven the wrestlers were...with passion and energy...and they really inspired me. I knew I wanted to do the same. My freshman year of high school I joined the wrestling team. I had accomplished so much in ballroom dancing and even started teaching....but I needed something new. Then in my junior year I finally joined a pro wrestling school and started my dream: to be a professional wrestler! I've been with it ever since. : )

LIZZY BORDEN: (Dismissing the critics who thought it was too raw and Xtreme to include her in a Death Match at “CITY of CHAMPIONS”) Those reality shows, where people eat bugs and shit: That's disgusting! How can you watch it? But I watch it. It's the same with what we do - people are shocked by it, but they watch it.

ALEXXIS NEVAEH: You know the game, drama never ends and haters are all the same. They smile to your face and spit on your name.


KNOW the LEDGE main event
Tag Team Elimination Match


quote:
TEAM CENA (John Cena, DX Triple H, Evan Bourne & Mil Mascaras)
Versus
DIAMOND DYNASTY (Buddy Rogers, Wade Barrett, Ted Dibiase Jr & Bobby Heenan)
Elimination Tag Match

The Diamond Dynasty – Buddy Rogers, Bobby Heenan, Ted Dibiase and NXT Season 1 vet Wade Barrett stormed BCCW, en masse, about 3 months ago and haven't looked back since. They took out Evan Bourne, they took out DX Triple H-McMahon, and they've been doing everything they can to make life hell for John Cena. What's the ultimate goal for the Diamond Dynasty? How exactly does their behavior threaten the very existence of BCCW? None of that's exactly clear, but fans have bought into it, and the result is that Cena's quest to assemble a 4-man team has been one of BCCW's hottest issues over the past 4 weeks.

DX Triple H has decided he hates the Dynasty, and now he's back for revenge (and providing a little extra sizzle as a special attraction who won't really wrestle much but will provide "veteran leadership"). Bourne & Mascaras are a long-standing tag team who want a piece of them. The elimination rules set this up to (probably) be a showcase for Superman Cena. Diamond Dynasty - for this match to have genuine drama - their entire team probably has to remain intact for as long as possible. And then, it's just a matter of what story they want to tell with Cena. I'll admit it: my curiosity is piqued.

RICK SCAIA




CREDITS

Alexxis: Twitter 10:36 AM Jul 26th via web
Sammi Lane: G.L.O.R.Y. Profile
Lizzy Borden: Salon Interview