When Red Meant Green: Crimson Masks Round 2

See all our wrestling posts under the "Crimson Mask" or "Seminal Sluts" titles...

    The Six Flags:Great Adventure amusement park is not far from where I teach and every spring it seems to inspire at least one debate among students about what is the most dangerous/scariest ride at the park. The students invariably argue for the latest Hollywood-inspired, Superhero-themed, testicle tingling roller coaster to come down the pike, but on those rare moments when I find the energy to raise my head above The Daily News sports section I cast my vote for the Log Flume.

    Immediately the little snots scoff until I explain that the most recent Batman/Superman/Green Latern thrill ride, while higher, faster and twistier, is the brain child of a think tank of Ivy League engineers using computer generated models incorporating the latest magnetic and metallurgic technology to create a risk-free run. The Log Flume, on the other hand, is a 100 foot pile of cheap plywood and Sputnik-era fiberglass thrown together in the 1950's by surly, half-soused Eastern European Teamsters that sways in a stiff breeze like it was designed by the same team behind the Tacoma Narrows Bridge disaster. Fact is if anyone's gonna die it's on The Flume, baby, mark my words.

    But what kids today just can't comprehend is that the biggest thrills in life often come from what is unknown. Similiarly in our last wrestling post we indicated that today's brand of televised Pro Wrestling is far more exciting on a match to match basis than the days of yore, but the one thing it lacks is that sense of mystery.

    You see prior to the explosion of cable TV, You Tube and the 24/7 Wrestling Observer/Figure 4 Weekly/ Pro Wrestling Torch internet news cycle there were only two ways to keep abreast of the day's grappling greats. The first was to watch the stars of your regional territory on the local station's weekly TV taping that featured a parade of squash matches interspersed with interviews and the occasional black and white arena highlights shot from the floor on a shaky, hand-held camera like some kind of low-brow Zapruder film that made The Blair Witch Project look like Citizen Kane. And the second was the Wrestling Magazine, a pulp periodical filled with sensationalized, National Enquirer-style stories jammed between advertisements for Sea Monkeys and X-Ray Specs that left your hands covered in more cheap ink than Michael J. Fox replacing a toner cartridge.

    The only time the twain would meet was every 2-3 months when a new set of heels and a coupla of babyfaces cycled through your area with a new crop of styles, gimmicks and specialty matches that added a dash of spice just when things got stale. Sure there were no Sin Cara's or Rey Misterio's in the group, but what these guys lacked in aerial ability they made up for with the tease. And let's face it once you know that another "619" is always a click of the mouse or flick of the TiVO remote away you tend to get jaded. Kinda like the way Mr. Pibb tasted great at the Piggly Wiggly on those family vacations to Florida, but once you could get it at the local Wal-Mart it became just the bad Dr. Pepper ripoff it had always been.

    So in a followup to our semi-heralded "When The Men Were Men And The Masks Were Crimson" article here's another sampling of the heroes of yesterday who tempted us just enough that we'd fork over our allowances and suffer the Pen Pal sections and Charles Atlas Dynamic Tension ads just to see how the other half lived.

1. Kamala, The Ugandan Giant- Kamala's real name is James Harris, but when I googled "James + Kamala + Harris" the first page that came up was that of the current Attorney General of California...Kamala Harris. Considering this is a state that elected an Austrian Bodybuilder/B-Movie Actor as Governor I figured anything is possible. The thought of which blew my mind worse than the "Kool-Aid" I drank from that wine sack at a Hot Tuna concert in '92 or the time a friend bet I couldn't get the name of Tennessee Tuxedo's sidekick without looking it up and I spent an entire week showing History Channel videos in class too frazzled from racking my brain to formulate a lesson plan.

    But fear not Californians as your Kamala Harris is a woman. So should you commit a major felony in state you won't be confronted at the prosecution table by a 400 pound black man from Mississippi wielding a spear in one hand and slapping his crescent moon painted belly with the other-though that might be interesting just to see the look on the occasional Mob Boss' or embezzling Politician's face.

    No, our Kamala maintained a safe distance from Law School going straight from picking fruit in the orange groves of Florida in his late teens to training with the coconut-headed Bobo Brazil in the 70's. He spent his early career working in England as the Mississippi Mauler, but returned Stateside to try his luck in the Jerry Lawler/Jerry Jarrett run Memphis territory in 1978.

    There as Sugar Bear Harris he had a less than awe inspiring debut which led to Lawler describing him as, "unathletic and weak on the stick (microphone)" which is kinda like a football coach saying of his team, "we're small, but we're slow." Still size sells in wrestling and so instead of giving up on Harris Lawler and Jarrett decided he should adopt an African Savage gimmick.

    Jarrett came up with the name after reading about a Dr. Kimala in National Geographic, then Lawler had Harris shave his head, don a loin cloth and paint his face and body with various astrological symbols that look like they were copied directly out of Goodnight Moon prompting many a wrestling fan to ponder the question...Jerry Jarrett reads National Geographic?

    With a manager to handle interviews Harris as Kamala only had to grunt, slap his belly and look intimidating as he delivered a repertoire of punches, chops and stomps that could make The Great Khali look like the illegitimate love-child of Kurt Angle and Billy Robinson. Still this was good enough to make him a top heel in Memphis, Mid-South and WCCW before Vince McMahon came calling in 1984.

    In the fast booming, comic book character environment of the new WWF Kamala took off immediately. Flanked by various managers (Freddie Blassie, Skandor Akbar, Harvey Wimpleman, King Curtis)and "Handler" Kim Chee, played by Brooklyn Brawler Steve Lombardi dressed as a cross between Crocodile Dundee and Groucho Marx's Captain Spaulding, Kamala rose straight to the top of the bad guy pecking order headlining PPV's in feuds with Hulk Hogan, The Undertaker and Jake "The Snake" Roberts.

    Following the Roberts' feud Kamala moved on to the USWA where he held their version of the World Title 4 times beating Lawler, Koko B. Ware and "Hotstuff" Eddie Gilbert along the way. When the WWF opened a talent sharing program with USWA Kamala tried to generate another run under the McMahons, this time as a babyface, but at 42 and having showed his hand to the fans there once already the bloom was apparently off the big, fat rose in a manner of speaking.

    From there Kamala kicked around the Indies for a bit before settling down to get married and write music. In a refreshing surprise the latter does not fall into the Rap genre that so many athletes-wannabe-musicians seem to gravitate toward, but instead is a cross between old school country and Dixieland Jazz. You can see a video for his song "She's Gone For Good" at his website theugandagiantkamala.com where he also sells CDs, Jungle Skirts and child-proof spears at a nominal cost. Good luck, big man!

Kamala and Steve Lombardi...the African Explorer...

2. Magnum TA (Terry Allen)- Considering I've been known to fly into a profanity-filled tirade when the Zamboni driver misses a sliver of ice at a professional hockey game it's safe to say my tolerance for frustration is a tad bit lower than Magnum TA.

    You see in 1986, fresh off a historic victory over Tully Blanchard in the first ever "I Quit" match and with two US Heavyweight Title runs behind him, Terry Allen's sky rocketing career ended at a point that would've caused me to put my head in the oven faster than Sylvia Plath. For according to reliable sources TA was just months away from a program that would culminate in his winning the NWA World Title when he wrapped his Porsche around a telephone pole in Charlotte, N.C. and suffered injuries that would instantly end his in-ring career. Even worse reports indicate that Allen was not speeding or under the influence, but simply hydroplaned on a wet patch causing him to lose control of the vehicle.

    Given the nickname Magnum TA by Andre The Giant, who thought he resembled Magnum P.I. star Tom Selleck, Terry Allen was a 1980's Trailer Park Hearthrob on par with Eddie Rabbitt and the guy who sang lead for the band Alabama. With a 70's porn star moustache and a mullett so outrageous it could best be described as "bible class in the front/Lollapalooza in the back" TA took the Atlanta-based Crockett Promotion by storm during a Goldberg-like run in the early 80's complete with a documented TV winning streak that featured victories in as little as 10-, 5- and even 3-seconds.

    He won his first US Title in 1985 beating Wahoo McDaniels and immediately began feuding with Blanchard and his valet Baby Doll. On the way to their groundbreaking match at The Great American Bash Allen was given a title shot against NWA Champ Ric Flair in which he acquitted himself well enough to be considered for the belt down the line.

    Unfortunately things moved slowly in those days and Allen would spend nearly a year battling Ivan and then Nikita Koloff before plans got under way for his title march. Before that, of course, Porsche met pole and though he made a miraculous recovery just to be able to walk again he would never work another match. He briefly tried his hand at announcing, but after all the trauma flecks of gray had him looking more like Sam Elliott than Tom Selleck and his heart wasn't in it anyway.

    Today Magnum lives in his home state of Virginia where he runs a small hedge fund and owns several telecommunications towers. The 'stash is now gone and his trademark mullett while still long in the back has receded up front to the point that he's tiptoeing along the less than flattering "Ben Franklin Line". Nonetheless he is happily married to, of all people, Tully Blanchard's ex-wife and raising 6 kids like a heterosexual Robert Reed. So here's all the best to a man who is a shining testament to human will.

Magnum TA in all his Mullett-y goodness

3. "Outlaw" Ron Bass- The "Rules of the Cartoon Kingdom" are pretty straight forward. Somes examples include all humans shall have 4 fingers/toes per hand/foot no more, no less; all owls must wear Graduation caps; any character sneaking up on another shall be accompanied by the plucking of violin strings; and, of course, facial hair = bad/clean shaven = good.

    With a few exceptions Pro Wrestling throughout its history has adhered to this latter dictum and "Outlaw" Ron Bass, for one, took this maxim to heart. Throughout his well-traveled career the black-hatted Bass kept his well waxed handlebar moustache ever at the ready just an "I'm about to tie a damsel to the railroad tracks" twist away from defining his heel persona for even the slowest witted of wrestling fans.

    And just like his facial hair and Cowboy hat Bass was a no-nonsense type in whatever region he was working. A mid- to upper-card professional bad guy who knew his role and performed it well. Sorta the Matt Stairs of the Squared Circle.

    Outside of a few tag title runs with partner Black Bart the Outlaw's most famous run was a WWF feud with Brutus Beefcake kicked off by Bass "juicing" Beefcake with his spurs during a TV taping-an extremely rare occurence at that time. That Bass was then able to carry the then green as grass Bruti all the way through to a PPV level Hair vs. Hair grudge match is enough to make the back breaking efforts of Paul Simon and Darryl Hall practically pale in comparison.

    Perhaps the big Outlaw's best move, however, was knowing when to walk away. He stepped aside in 1991 before mounting injuries could get the best of him, moved to Florida, played golf and finished up his B.A. at Arkansas State University. These days he shows up at the occasional Reunion or Independent show and is nice enough to "friend" even the snarkiest of Sports Entertainment bloggers on his FaceBook page-a true professional through and through.

The Outlaw "dragging" Brutus Beefcake through another quality match.

4. Superstar Billy Graham (Wayne Coleman)- I've always maintained that among the several women who have spent the night at one of my humble abodes I've never heard a complaint in bed. Of course, it's hard to hear from the top bunk...but I think my point is clear.

    And that point is that in matters of the ego it's easy to fool oneself into believing things are better than they may appear. Case in point was the website of Superstar Graham (now apparently defunct) which seemed to credit Graham with being the inspiration for every wrestling persona from Hulk Hogan to The Rock to the Gobbeldygooker and then some.

    Now don't get me wrong Mr. Coleman was a fantastic performer whose physique and mic work were slightly ahead of their time, but in no way was he the Lewis and Clark of wrestling style the site credits him as being. Even the Superstar himself has admitted his sing-song, rhyming catchphrases borrowed a great deal from a young Cassius Clay/Muhammad Ali and his flamboyant ring wear and arrogant persona owe more than a passing nod to 1950's greats like Gorgeous George and "Nature Boy" Buddy Rogers.

    But in the wrestling biz personality and charisma puts asses in the seats and Graham had that in enough abundance to be tabbed by the McMahons as successor to aging WWF Champ Bruno Sammartino. No Stan Stasiak, he held the title for a Heel record 296 days in 1977-78 before dropping it to the up and coming Bob Backlund. During this period Graham is credited with having headlined 20 Madison Square Garden shows with 19 resulting in full houses for a then unprecedented 95% sell out rate.

    By the mid-80's years of pounding and steriod abuse had taken a toll on The Superstar. He retired in 1987 and began a series of hip surgeries that would reduce him to a shadow of his former self. Still at a time when Barry Bonds could still fit into a non-custom designed batting helmet Graham courageously went public with his steriod use and came out against the Pro Wrestling culture that fostered such abuse. Although such talk did not endear him to Vince McMahon, Jr. Graham was still elected to the WWE Hall of Fame in 2004.

    Alas, even this did not end well for the outspoken Coleman who fell out again with McMahon in '09 upon being fired from a WWE consultancy position. He subsequently sold his HOF ring on EBay and in 2011 demanded his name be removed from the index of Hall of Famers due to the inclusion of a "bloodthirsty animal like Abdullah the Butcher" in the latest induction class.

    Sadly Superstar, who received a liver transplant in 2004, was diagnosed with cirrhosis in March of 2011 and given a rather grim prognosis. He presently lives in Arizona with his wife Valerie and his 2006 autobiography, Tangled in the Ropes, has gotten generally positive reviews while selling respectably. He may not have been the original innovator of the self-aggrandizing, flamboyant, over-the-top wrestling persona, but he brought various elements together to create a memorable character and career that will never be forgotten.

Superstar Graham vs. Dusty Rhodes sometime before Doctors isolated the cause of the AIDS virus.

    I've got some stuff on Roddy Piper, I've got some stuff on Superfly Snuka and I've got a case of Molson Golden somebody gave me at a Graduation Party...guess who wins? I've also accumulated some detritus related to Buzz Sawyer, Billy Jack Haynes, Baron Von Raschke and the Master of the Green Mist The Great Kabuki so stay tuned. There's also a potential New York Yankee article in the works...we'll keep you posted. As always were on Facebook here I believe http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Bowling-Til-It-Hurts/144323018970626  and on Twitter at "sprtcom102" because I believe I drunkenly passed out on the keyboard the night I opened that account and those are the characters that came out. Until next time I'll be lying on my bed hands folded thinking of ways to make all of you happier...Godspeed.

When The Men Were Men And The Masks Were Crimson

This is the first part of our profile of stars from the 70's and 80's. For Kamala, Magnum TA, Outlaw Ron Bass and Superstar Graham see our "When Red Meant Green" post from late June. Also our four part series on the Pioneering Divas of wrestling featuring Sunshine, Baby Doll, Missy Hyatt, Madusa, Misty Blue Simmes, Chyna, Sunny, Sable, Lita and more is under the "Seminal Sluts" titles (Parts 1-3) and "Strapping A Stranglehold On The Bald-Headed Champ" (Part 4). Thanks for dropping by...and for once I honestly mean that.   

    Some people can't help, but want to arrest their adolescence. We got an ugly taste of this recently when it was discovered that both aging ex-California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger and IMF Chief Dominique Strauss-Kline had taken enough runs at their hired help to make you believe if Mr. B turned his back for more than 30 seconds they'd have jumped Hazel like R. Kelly on a kindergartner.

    Then just last weekend 79 year-old Joseph Brooks, the writer/director/producer and Oscar Award winning songwriter of the movie/tune You Light Up My Life, comitted suicide rather than face multiple charges that he lured aspiring, young actresses to his Manhattan apartment for phony auditions only to assault them sexually. Reports indicated that Brooks took his life through use of a "Helium Bag", a procedure he learned from  mail-order books on methods of assisted suicide. Tomes whose very necessity begs the age old question-weren't there any tall buildings or speeding trains in his neighborhood?

    Even sadder are accounts that halfway through the attempt Mr. Brooks may have changed his mind, but his cries for help from inside the gas-filled bag were ignored by neighbors who mistook his pleas for children watching Alvin and The Chipmunks-The Squee-quel.

   So in other words you can't turn back time and when you try to things aren't always as good as you remember anyway. A case in point is pro wrestling. You Tube and other video sites are loaded with the matches and grappling stars of our youth, but like the myriad boyfriends of Renee Zellweger can attest what starts out attractive often gets less and less so the more time that goes by.

    Simply put wrestling in the '70's and early '80's wasn't better than today, it was just different. Weekly TV shows were nothing more than squash-filled  infomercials for main event house shows where the real money was made. And even there most of the moves were so bland (punches, stomps, armbars, headlocks) and the matches so predictable it was to today's pay-per-view extravaganzas what the "David Caruso Manual of Acting" is to a Lee Strasberg course.

    Still the characters from those days, their mannerisms, catch-phrases and actions remain with me as vividly as the golden memory of my induction into the "Mile High Club"-I soloed. So in the style of our mildly popular "Seminal Sluts" series here's some insolent insights into those heroes of yesteryear.

1. Chief Jay Strongbow- It's one of the ironies of my life as an American that Indians have always seemed to get the best of me. They've handed me my ass at their casinos, lacrosse balls seem intuitively attracted to my testicular region and I swear until 2009 I thought Atlanta Braves mascot Chief Nocahoma was a reference to some pre-Columbian tribal leader and not a bad pun/play on words.

    That notwithstanding Chief Jay Strongbow fooled me about as much as the extended warranty from Best Buy or the "can we see you for a second in the garage" radiator flush at Jiffy Lube. Wahoo McDaniel was a Native American (Choctaw-Chickasaw tribe), Tatanka was a Native American (Lakota tribe), but the closest Philadelphia's Joe Scarpa (real name) came to being an Indian was the two years his family lived in Cleveland when he was a teenager.

    Still there is nothing quite so suspended as the disbelief of the average wrestling fan and thus all it took in the late 1950's was a dark complection and a stilted, monotone for Italian-American Scarpa to become the least likely Tribesman this side of the Borscht Belt comedians who portrayed The Hekawis on F Troop.

    And by the late 60's/early 70's Chief Jay had established himself as a main event tag team competitor throughout the Northeast winning the WWWF belts on 4 seperate occasions with 3 different partners (Sonny King, Billy White Wolf and Jules Strongbow twice). Additionally, he so helped popularize the sleeper hold that he has been referenced along with the move in such diverse pop culture spheres as TV's Boston Legal and the Adam Sandler movie Big Daddy.

    Alas all was not always Belts and Buffalo for the Big Chief. His famous "War Dance" comeback is often invoked as the inspiration that inflicted Hulk Hogan's "Hulking Up" routine on us so there were some regrets. He also hung around a bit too long, returning to the then WWF after his 50th birthday. There, under the booking of Vince McMahon, Jr., he became the butt of running jokes. My last impression of him being standing forlornly in a parking lot as "Captain Redneck" Dick Murdoch and Adrian Adonis ran down his Teepee with a pickup truck on an episode of Tuesday Night Titans while Strongbow stood by with a tear in his eye like someone had just thrown a sack of White Castle garbage at his feet on the side of the highway.

    However, Chief Jay is still kicking today at age 83 and was inducted into the non-promotional Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame in Amsterdam, New York in 2009. He's no Rocky Balboa, but all in all not bad for an Italian immigrants' son from South Philly.

2. Mr. Wrestling II- In his prime Boston Red Sox great Ted Williams was tall, handsome, athletic and could hit a baseball like nobody's business hence the nickname "Teddy Ballgame". At age 37 pro wrestler Johnny "Rubberman" Walker was short, balding and going to fat so, without a second thought, the bumbling brains behind the business decided to hand him a mask and the moniker "Mr. Wrestling".

    Of course there was already a Mr. Wrestling I portrayed by the much more likely candidate Tim Woods, a strapping 6 foot, 230 pounder who twice was named an NCAA All-American wrestler at Michigan State. But even after surviving the perilous plane crash  that ended the career of legendary grappler Johnny Valentine and nearly beat the man before he even became the man by breaking the back of then rookie Ric Flair Woods was still magnanimous enough to share the Mr. W persona with Walker who he knew well from their then legendary Florida feud in 1970.

    For several months that year Woods as Mr. Wrestling and Walker, then working as The Grappler, toured the Seminole Circuit battling over the princely sum of $500. An amount so ridiculously low it reminds me of the old Unicef boxes or Sally Struthers late-night Beg-A-Thons that claimed a nickel a week could feed a family of 4 in some drought-stricken African nation for an entire year. To which I used to say,"tell you what, here's a quarter buy that condo you've been looking at"; or better yet get Sally to give up a couple meals and you'll all be driving Mercedes in no time.

    Throughout the mid-70's the pair worked together as a highly successful tag team before II began a main event singles run with Georgia Championship Wrestling. From 1973-80 he won the prestigious Georgia Heavyweight Title 10 times knocking off the likes of Nikolai Volkoff, Harley Race, Stan Hansen and Austin Idol with his patented "Million Dollar" Knee Lift a move so uninspiring it has gone the way of Travel Agents and African-American Third Baseman (where have you gone Charlie Hayes?) in today's Pro Wrestling game.

    Today Walker runs a wrestling school in Hawaii that develops talent for a Don Muraco-led promotion in the Pacific. And even at age 75 he could no doubt take down this wise-ass wrestling blogger faster than Keith Olbermann at a Tea Party Rally so I'll conclude by saying best of luck to a man who truly earned the title "Mr. Wrestling".
Jimmy Carter & Wrestling II-If only the President had handled OPEC this forcefully.

3. Ivan Putski- According to the Online World of Wrestling site Putski has to be the most popular wrestler ever to not win a singles title. Back in the mid-70's when Ivan came to the ring smiling ear-to-ear, carrying kids on his shoulder and speaking in broken English it was obvious he was a fan favorite with few peers. Nonetheless he was cast in a role that made him everything that Mickey Dolenz was not, that is a "stepping stone" for wrestlers on their way to title shots.

    During his time in the WWWF the stocky, barrel chested Polish Power put over a list of challengers to Bruno Sammartino's crown that included but was not limited to Stan Hansen, Bobby Duncum, Bruiser Brody, Superstar Graham and Baron Von Raschke. Until finally as the '80's approached he could apparently take it no more.

    He disappeared from TV for awhile, found a friendly HGH dealer and returned with a physique as shredded as pulled pork. Sadly though wrestling fans prefer their Polish wrestlers to be happy-go-lucky, kielbasa swinging, Bobby Vinton singing simpletons. Kinda like The Mighty Igor who was not the same guy for those still wondering.

    Perhaps the saddest part of this tale is that from my extensive, albeit mostly inebriated, research it appears Putski is one of the sweetest guys to ever grace the squared circle. He's still alive today and was last seen working as a security guard at a High School outside Dallas where students would be best advised to carry a Hall Pass lest they be Polish Hammer-ed on the way to the bathroom. Nas Darovia!

4. Stan "The Man" Stasiak- One of my favorite Far Side cartoons features the heading "Parts Unknown High School Reunion" and depicts various masked men standing around a punch bowl with one saying, "...after graduation I got into wrestling..."

    I guess I was always fascinated with how wrestlers in the era of the old style entrance (i.e.- no music, just name, weight, hometown) often tried to get across their gimmick with where they were supposedly from. My favorites included Cactus Jack from Truth or Consequences, New Mexico; Louis Cyr from the Wilds of the Yukon; The Hangman from Europe (they couldn't pin him down to a country even?); and Stan Stasiak from Buzzards Creek, Oregon.

    The self-proclaimed master of another move that has gone into the attics of the ring game, the Heart Punch, Stasiak was the William Henry Harrison of the WWWF winning the title from Pedro Morales then dropping it 9 days later to Bruno Sammartino. A transition guy not unlike Gerald Ford only Stasiak took less bumps.

    Additionally, he sported the nastiest pair of Mutton Chops this side of a Renaissance Fair and sired a second generation grappler in son Sean who had a run in the WWE as Meat under the management of the Pretty Mean Sisters (PMS, I know subtle), Terri Runnels and Ryan Shamrock. Sadly in one of the more ironic moments since they named the country's National Airport after Ronald Reagan, the man who fired en masse every air traffic controller, Stasiak died of heart failure. A champion and legit tough guy to the end.
Come to think of it I never actually saw Stan Stasiak and Chris Farley together...hmmm?!?


5. Jimmy Valiant- In the 1960's Jimmy Valiant was known as "The Handsome One" with matinee idol looks and a pristine Babyface persona. By the time I began watching wrestling in the mid-70's, though, it appeared he had swallowed ZZ Top and his next legal manuever would be his first. He was still a Babyface, but he had morphed from "Handsome" Jimmy into the Grizzly Adams meets Gene Gene The Dancing Machine "Boogie Woogie Man" who never met an eye he wouldn't rake or crotch he wouldn't low blow.

    It's said you know you've gotten old when kids stop laughing at you when you accidentally fall down and instead immediately call for an ambulance. And as we moved into the '80's I had Atlanta area EMTs on speed dial every time I watched Jimmy Valiant wrestle. With wild hair, long fingernails and chest-length beard the suddenly emaciated Boogie Woogie Man looked less like a threat in the ring and more like Howard Hughes sans the urine jars.

    Still manager Paul Jones threw every member of his "Army" short of Seal Team 6 at Valiant during this period, including Shaska Whately, The Barbarian, Warlord, Manny Fernandez, Teijo Khan and assorted Russians, but couldn't take the Boogie Man down.

    The most memorable moment, though, of this long-running feud had to be when "Raging Bull" Manny Fernandez turned on his former tag partner and joined Jones' Army. Georgia Championship Wrestling then ran a vignette where Valiant was seen sitting in an alley amidst empty beer cans playing the blues on a harmonica. Unsurprised to see a camera crew a teary-eyed Boogie looks into the lens
and asks his former friend to reconsider by imploring, "...but we were in 'Nam together, man!"

    Now I've been willing to overlook a lot of things in my time watching wrestling, from the idea that Toru Tanaka was a Professor to Bam Bam Bigelow carrying The Communist Manifesto to the ring in WCCW when they ran short of Soviets, but Jimmy Valiant was in Vietnam like I was first man off the boat at Anzio.

    Ultimately, time took care of what Paul Jones' Army could not. Aged hard by the rigors of the road the breakup of the regional teritories left Valiant without a home. Sporting a 2 foot braided beard, ass-length bleached blonde hair and a repetoire of dance moves that could make Elaine Benes look like Hines Ward the Boogie Man did the only thing he could and opened a wrestling school in North Carolina where he continues to train youngsters to this day. A man made for the business keep on workin' it "Mr. Willy Willy Billy Billy"!

6. Abdullah The Butcher- According to the World Health Organization website if Abdullah the Butcher was, as billed, from Khartoum he would be by far the fattest man to ever come from the Sudan. At somewhere in the area of 500 pounds his flapping, chafing Man Breasts were a consistent reminder that as I got older my one and only fitness goal was not to get tits.

    In actuality Larry Shreve (real name) is from Topeka or Montreal depending on which website you believe, but that not withstanding his "Wildman From The Sudan" gimmick will go down as one of the best the business has ever known. And his feuds with Bruiser Brody in World Class, Puerto Rico and Japan are the stuff of legend. Well worth the computer time if you've never seen them.

    Like Brody and The Shiek of Detroit Wrestling fame Abby's game was built on giving the people what they want...and what they wanted was blood. The Butcher bladed his forehead so often throughout his career that Mick Foley reported in his memoir Have A Nice Day that Abby could hold coins and poker chips in the deep scars on his forehead which I guess is cooler than having a velcro wallet.

   The only problem is with his dark skin tone and shaved head the blood Abdullah produced never seemed to be that profuse unlike...

7. Tommy "Wildfire" Rich- ...the man who I believe inspired Gordon Solie's famous cry of "his face is a Crimson Mask". You see red on white produces a much better visual effect and Tommy Rich wasn't just pale, he was translucent. He could make WWE star Seamus look like George Hamilton. At the beach there wasn't an SPF high enough short of mayonaise. Add in bone white bleach blonde hair and it's no wonder Rich was often captioned in pro wrestling mags as "bleeding like a stuck pig".

    A huge fan favorite in Georgia Rich won basically every title there was in the Mid-Atlantic/Georgia/Florida territories. We're also happy to add the immense blood loss had no ill effects and you can find Wildfire happily posing with his wife on his FaceBook page still just a shaving nick away from a Hemophilia PSA.
Abdullah and Tommy Rich doing what they do best...and that guy in the white hat doing God knows what?!?

    I literally can't type anymore so maybe we'll get to Magnum T.A., The Great Kabuki, Kamala and Sgt. Slaughter some other time. If there are any other old school stars you'd like to see profiled leave a comment. In the meantime remember the site's on FaceBook and at "sprtcom102" on Twitter and as soon as we figure out where the "Source Code" bar is on this freakin' site we'll put up the links. I honestly hate everything...good night!

Making Toast With The Blow Dryer

    So, like a Steven Strasborg start or the debut of Spiderman: The Musical, the Rapture has been pushed back to a new date once again-October 21, 2011. Some in the media are calling end of the world prognosticator Harold Camping a marketing genius for all the attention he's garnered, but frankly I'm really not seeing the "end game" here. I mean if you're wrong you'll be ridiculed mercilessly before your friends and family and if you're right, well, you're in even deeper sh*t...kinda like my first marriage (for more on my ex-wife see December's Humanitarian Bowl Preview, Fresno State section).

    Until then, however, let's take care of a little housekeeping...

1. It's been brought to my attention that some Internet Filters used by schools, libraries and assorted places of business have denied access to this site as being "Pornographic". To waylay your fears let me assure you that there is nothing, whatsoever, pornographic on this blog...and, trust me, by the number of 2 and 3 A.M. time stamps on these posts you know I know porno. Or as Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart famously said from the bench in 1964, "I could never hope to intelligibly define pornography...but I know it when I see it." Amen, brother!

2. Next for those writing about my profile photo...yes, I always look like that. As my "unchanged from the '80's" hairstyle will attest I was in a bit of a "depeche mode" that day, but thanks for asking. And no I will not be changing the pic as first I rarely allow myself to be photographed since I believe it steals a piece of your soul-my mother had Cherokee in her, it wasn't of her own choosing but you're bored, drunk and in Oklahoma only once-and of those photos I do have it's hard to find one in which my hair does not resemble that of 19th Century South Carolina Senator and Vice President John C. Calhoun.Not exactly a barrel of laughs, but he knew his way around a "nullification" argument.

3. And finally, our next post, in which we return to an era of wrestling when Luchadores were what was on Univision after the guy in the Bumblebee suit and Ric Flair was coherent, will be up by Monday. Ivan Putski, Mr. Wrestling II, Jimmy Valiant and Abdullah The Butcher among others will be profiled so check back.

Have a great holiday weekend and I believe if you've learned anything here...seriously, stay off the drugs.

The House Of Fire And Broken Glass; Or How I Child-Proofed My Home

    After another arduous week of dealing with the peevishly, perturbing public, or even worse their kids, I can't help, but be reminded of the words of the 20th Century French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre to his longtime companion and Women's Rights Activist Simone de Beauvoir, "Hell is other people!...What?...No, not you, I mean 'other' other people." And now that several students have discovered this site they are constantly pestering me to be included in a post which raises the professional question- "Does dumbass have a hyphen?"

    Though I guess I should be happy that at least someone is paying attention and I'm not exerting all this effort only to be ignored in favor of more stylish, aesthetically pleasing peers like some blogosphere version of that one little, fat Dixie Chick.

    That said I wanted to take a moment to touch on a few things as we reach a milestone of 50 posts here. First to the guy who keeps sending me Mafia Games requests on my Facebook page sorry, but I'm not a Gamer. I choose to escape reality the old-fashioned way: Alcohol.

    Beyond that we should have two posts available next week. For those who've grown weary of Pro Wrestling they'll be a story on the Worst Person in the History of Sports...and it's not Ben Roethlisberger nor did he ever play for the Cincinnati Bengals. For those who enjoyed the Squared Circle Sarcasm they'll be more as we reach back to our earliest TV watching days to profile the likes of Chief Jay Strongbow, Ivan Putski, Ox Baker, The Great Kabuki and more.

    And finally for those who wondered if I'd built in a Site Map...yeah have another suck on the water pipe there, Spicoli. However I will give you a brief Table of Contents below.

   Until we post again feel free to follow our drunken tweets at "Beieber-liciou...oh wait wrong blog...at "sprtcom102" or check us out on FB at "Bowling Til' It Hurts". Thanks for participating.

BTIH Table of Contents

DECEMBER: College Football Bowl Previews; origin of the site name; Cam Newton article ("Father of the Year"); cheerleader pics.

JANUARY/FEBRUARY: NFL Team Previews, playoff prognostications; Rex Ryan mocking, worst Super Bowl followup teams, cheerleader pics.

MARCH: New York Mets bashing, Harry Caray on Denise Milani at a Dodger game; suggestive photos.

APRIL: Pioneering Women of Wrestling Four Part Series- 1. "Seminal Sluts of the Squared Circle", 2. "A Carnal Chronicle of Cleavage", 3. "Seminal Sluts Simplex 3", 4. "Strapping a Stranglehold on the Bald-Headed Champ".
Did I read Tiger Woods dropped out of the TPC after 9 Ho's...or 9 holes?

Cristie Kerr after shooting a 69 (no, seriously) to win the Dinah Shore Open...and suddenly I have a craving for Cheerios.

Strapping A Stranglehold On The Bald-Headed Champ

Ed. Note: This is the 4th in our 4 part series on the pioneering Divas of wrestling. Please refer back to the "Seminal Sluts" title in previous posts so as to maintain the full story arc; or in other words to not miss out on the rest of the low-brow humor and boob jokes. Have fun!

  Osama Bin Laden was still alive? I coulda swore they'd been propping him up like Weekend At Bernie's since '05. Be that as it may welcome to the 4th and final installment on the Pioneering Women of Wrestling where we'll wrap up the major players, snidely dismiss some of the ancillary accessories and finally be able to move on to weightier issues in the world of sports like what the hell is up with Mel Kiper's hair these days?

    So in closing I've always seen the arc of women in wrestling during my lifetime as similiar to that of "Barker's Beauties" on The Price Is Right...it's been a long run, just work with me on this.

    For at the same time as our tittilating trollops were making their mark in the late night syndication/Saturday morning UHF world TPIR was delivering its own triumvirate of tarts to the masturbatory masses every weekday at 11.

    The standard lineup at the time featured Janice Pennington, Holly Hallstrom and Dian Parkinson-the latter pair later garnering further attention when they sued their lecherous leader over unwanted sexual advances causing dogs and cats everywhere to wonder whether Bob was actually the one who should've been spayed or neutered-and much like Sunshine, Precious and Chris Adams' concomitant concubines these triplets, though flawed by today's ridiculous standards, seemed wildly attractive at a time before outpatient plastic surgery, botox and gravity-defying wardrobes became the rage.

    But perhaps the biggest coincidence between these cultural phenomena is how their overt sexual appeal was handled on a regular basis. Just like the early Girls of Grappling our Gameshow Gals spent most of their TV time looking pretty, but relatively chaste. For the valets it was a matter of standing ringside supporting their men in a variety of sequined tops and spandex bottoms culled straight from the Grand Ole Opry's Dottie West collection. While Janice/Holly/Dian ran their fingers around, but never on, an assortment of appliances, furniture ensembles and recreational vehicles clad in flowing dresses with shoulder pads big enough to frighten The Road Warriors.

    Then just when we seemed to lose interest the producers gave us something for the Kleenex box, so to speak, with a risque romp designed to tease and tantalize. Whether it be the clothes ripping roll in the ring, mud pit match and public spankings of the wrestling world or the always hoped for "Fun in the Sun", beach-themed showcase complete with swimsuits and bikinis on The Price Is Right they seemed to know just how often to tempt us so that the anticipation was almost as good as the act.

    But somewhere along the line they just gave up on the dance. Maybe it was the increasing ubiquity of men's magazines, the rise of the Internet or just plain laziness, but the powers that be decided "why bust our asses when we can just give you theirs" week in and week out. And next thing you know every episode of Raw/Smackdown/Nitro or opening game of PLINKO! began looking like Saturday night in The Bunny Mansion's Grotto.

1. Sunny (Tammy Lynn Sytch)- The moment, for me at least, that this whole thing jumped the proverbial shark was the day "Sunny Got Slopped".

Admittedly the sumptuous Ms. Sytch had been giving fans more of the goods than they were used to for some time with her low cut tops and skirts that made Daisy Dukes look like culottes. Then suddenly while managing the fitness-crazed Bodydonnas in their feud with the good ol' boy Godwinns Sunny got doused with the Godwinn's "slop bucket" turning a Sunday morning episode of WWE Superstars into a 15 minute, more angles than an NFL Replay Booth, nipple blaring wet t-shirt contest...and things would never be the same.

    Interestingly the woman behind this defining moment of standards lowering hails from Matawan, New Jersey just a handful of Parkway exits from Seaside Heights the site of another "dumbing down of America" darling The Jersey Shore. Yet at a time when Snooki and The Situation were still a 6-pack of Bartles & Jaymes and a romp in the back seat of a tricked-out Monte Carlo from conception young Tammy was hitting the books and not the "boards" graduating near the top of her High School class before matriculating to prestigious Wellesley College to major in pre-law.

    A year later with dreams of being a pediatrician she had switched to pre-med, thereby confirming Otter's claim in Animal House that it's really all the same, and transferred to the University of Tennessee to be closer to her HS sweetheart, Chris Candido, who was working for Jim Cornette's Smoky Mountain Wrestling. Under Cornette's imaginative booking SMW had become a proving ground for wild angles and new themes that would later turn up re-packaged in the WWF. When Candido's sexy, co-ed girlfriend showed up on summer break looking for work one of those themes became pushing the envelope of sexuality in wrestling and soon it was to Hell with Little Timmy's colic, slop bucket here I come.

    At this point with Ted Turner's cash infused WCW beating him on TV and Bret Hart's monster contract strangling him like he just stumbled headfirst into David Carradine's closet Vince McMahon was ready to pull out all stops to save his sinking ship. So when Sunny's youthful good looks and sexy energy started garnering attention the Boss took advantage naming her host of a number of syndicated packages and getting her featured on MTV's Singled Out and Entertainment Tonight. She also began dating Shawn Michaels who, after getting dumped, accused her of fooling around with the then married Bret Hart. This all played out as a sidelight to the infamous 1997 "Montreal Screwjob" where McMahon/Michaels stole the title from Hart on a phantom tap out. True to her friend Hart Sunny walked out briefly in protest and by 1998 she and Candido were, not surprisingly, plying their trade in ECW and WCW.

    There rumors swirled that Sytch was abusing drugs and was sometimes found passed out on locker room floors which presented a problem since that position was already occupied by Sandman and Scott Hall respectively in those promotions. Additionally, she had gained weight and the road had hardened her look. She took to wearing long fur coats to the ring in WCW which unless you plan on revealing a bikini underneath does not bode well for a female's prospects in this business.

    She claims to have turned down a six figure offer from Playboy in 1997 which in retrospect may have been a mistake. The new millenium found her working the New Jersey Independent circuit and posing nude for Missy Hyatt's website in pictures that I'm sure were not quite as tasteful or, at 36 years old, flattering as Hef would've produced.

    Throughout it all, though, she stuck with Candido until his untimely passing in 2005. Later that same year she appeared at ECW's "Hardcore Heaven" a tribute show for the growing number of fallen stars of ECW which by this point ranked ahead of coal mining, but behind altar boy on the list of the country's most dangerous jobs.

    A true breakthrough pioneer for women in the business Sunny got her just desserts recently when she was named an inductee in the 2011 class of the WWE Hall of Fame. So to this original Jersey Shore Girl we say congratulations on an honor well deserved.
Generally the last woman to not look ridiculous in leopard print was Ginger Grant, but for Sunny we'll make an exception.

2. Sable (Rena Mero)- It may be coincedental, but I've always viewed women with breast implants and Professional Wrestling in the same light. I know everything I'm seeing is not real, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it just the same.

    After all men like breasts or as Jerry Seinfeld once put it, "why would I be a leg man, I've already got legs." So let's quickly send a shout out to Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony for if it wasn't for these leaders of the Women's Suffrage movement we no doubt would've had a topless President by this point...and that erotically endowed Chief Executive may just have been Sable.

    Already a model for L-Oreal, Pepsi and Guess? Jeans-the latter a product that when it's label inevitably turns up on the backside of a plus-size woman in line at Wal-Mart takes all my self-control to not answer, "220?, 225?"-in 1993 Sable made the best cosmetic surgery choice since Matthew McConaughey's hair plugs (give up the charade guy, you had a comb-over in Dazed and Confused for crissakes) when she got implants to supposedly improve her self-esteem. In addition they attracted Marc Mero who at the time was doing a Little Richard impersonation as Johnny B. Badd in WCW.

    In true WCW fashion Rena stayed off camera until Mero jumped to the WWF. Knowing the Sunny run wouldn't last forever Vinny Mac started grooming Sable for the sexpot role and pretty soon Mero had become wrestling's version of Hank Baskett being dragged along by his wife's industrial strength bra straps.

    While Sable's popularity grew Mero dropped the Intercontinental Title to Triple H, worked a ludicrous boxing gimmick, lost a match to Toughman competitor Butterbean and jobbed for comic-relief grappler Gillberg with the Light Heavyweight Title on the line. That he was pinned by Sable at the Capital Carnage PPV after a "Crotch Shot" is not as surprising as the fact that at that point he even felt the blow at all.

    Meanwhile FIT magazine had featured Sable under the headline "The Most Beautiful Woman in the World" and the April 1999 issue of Playboy with her on the cover became the single biggest seller of all time.

    Still even silicon has a shelf life. By 1999 Sable and the WWF were on bad terms that resulted in her dismissal and subsequent $110 million sexual harassment lawsuit which surprisingly actually pre-dated the arrival of Randy Orton. She returned briefly in the mid-2000's to feud with Stephanie McMahon and manage "A-Train" Albert Bloom who I believe is currently enshrined along with Goldberg and Scott "Raven" Levy in the Jewish Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame that resides in Barry Horowitz' basement.

    Nonetheless Rena Mero was nothing if not a woman of firsts: first to call herself "Diva", first to pose for Playboy, first to inspire Evening Gown, Bra and Pantie and Bikini matches/contests. In short a true trendsetter who changed the game forever.
Not real, still spectacular!

3. Debra- If nothing else Vince McMahon is one helluva a businessman. His battles in the '80's with ex-wrestlers turned promoters like Verne Gagne would've been comical if they weren't so one-sidedly sad. For while Vinnie Mac catered to a new generation of fan by wedding his brand to music, fireworks and family fun Verne and the old boys network was still trying to jam anachronistic, hairy chested heels like Ole Anderson and Nick Bockwinkel down our throats. So when Sunny and then Sable flew the coop in the late-90's it was little wonder a woman like the pulchritudinous Debra Marshall was there to pick up the slack. In business they call it a cash reserve, for Mr. McMahon it was more like a "gash reserve".

    Debra got into wrestling when her mother, who obviously never saw the film Blazing Saddles, gladly passed her number along to ex-Chicago Bear turned pro wrestler Steve "Mongo" McMichael. They worked in WCW from '96 to '97, but when "Mongo" predictably turned out to be a loose cannon Debra divorced him and moved onto the WWF.

    At the time the McMahons were beginning to stockpile blondes (Terri Runnels, Tori, Ryan Shamrock), but with a heaving chest, killer legs and the butt of a twelve year old boy (did I just type that out loud?) Debra quickly rose to the top of the pecking order. Even winning the woman's title because her dress got torn off in an Evening Gown match with Sable.

    Alas, she did not last long in the game, but her seamless transition in the wake of Sable's departure ensured that the folks who run the biz will make certain we will never be left wanting for the lowest common denominator again.

4. Wendi Richter- If only changing who you are in real life was as easy as it is in wrestling. In 1985 the true Texas ranch raised Ms. Richter chucked her trademark Cowboy hat, threw on a handful of glitter and enough eye makeup to make Alice Cooper look like an Ivory Girl and suddenly she was part of the Rock-n-Wrestling Connection (with Cyndi Lauper) and on her way to being the most popular women in the sport.

    In 1984 she ended the longest reign this side of Marshal Tito when she knocked off 28 year champion Fabulous Moolah on MTV's Brawl For It All special and soon she popped up in Lauper's "She Bop" video and was defending the title around the world.

   But the girls stopped having fun when Lauper quit the wrestling game and Richter began demanding more money. In the little remembered "Original WWF Screwjob" Richter dropped the title on a quick count at Madison Square Garden to The Spider Lady who turned out to be Moolah under the hood.

    There was nowhere to go, but down or as they called it in the wrestling world at the time the AWA. There she feuded with a young Madusa before quietly slipping out of the game in the '90s to work in real estate and compete on the Dog Show circuit. A nice run for a seemingly nice woman who was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame in 2010. Good job.

5. Lita (Amy Dumas)- A serial dater Ms. Dumas has gone through Matt Hardy, Edge and CM Punk on her way to breaking more wrestler's hearts than Stan "The Man" Stasiak. Her real contribution though is bringing attitude to the sometimes overly prissy women's division.

    A true "worker" who honed her craft on the challenging Luchadore circuit in Mexico. My favorite memory of Lita is a style-clueless Vince McMahon continually admonishing her to pull her pants up before she went to the ring-a fashion trend, by the way, that is single-handedly bringing back Ricketts as kids today are forced to walk perversely bow-legged just to keep from dropping their drawers completely.

6. Dump Matsumoto- When you name your daughter Dump you're pretty much limiting her future prospects. When she grows up to be a 5' 4", 220 pound raging ball of PMS it's safe to say the Cotillon Crowd is not likely to come calling.

    A mega-superstar in Japan, where her matches with Bull Nakano netted record breaking TV ratings, Matsumoto is included here as a woman who made the "Killer Female Heel" viable and opened the doors for "Healthy" girls everywhere to pursue their wrestling dreams.
Dump channeling her inner...Josef Mengele, I guess?!?

7. Bertha Faye- And 260 pound Bertha Faye is one of those women to fulfill that goal. Often taunted about her girth by WWF audiences Bertha once screamed in an interview that she wasn't fat, she was big-boned. To which WWF crowds responded much like the comedian Dom Irrera who replied to a woman using the same logic that, "from where I'm standing it looks like you got some pretty fat, f---ing bones in ur ass!"

8. Heidi Lee Morgan- On the other end of the spectrum is Ms. Morgan who's twig-like build could make Calista Flockhart look like Beth Phoenix. If you have trouble believing Rey Misterio can take down folks like The Big Show and Mark Henry then you'd find it hard to fathom that Ms. Morgan could drop anyone larger than an Olsen Twin. Still she did in a career which saw her win the LPWA Tag Titles with Misty Blue Simmes and twice challenge Alundra Blaze (Madusa) for the WWF Women's Championship. In addition we are happy to report that no evidence turned up that Heidi Lee ever suffered from any ailment on the Eating Disorder scale unlike yours truly who has been diagnosed as Amnesic Bulimic; or, in other words, I binge, but forget to purge.

9. Woman- I know I promised this tragic superstar, but it's basically impossible to crack wise considering her unfortunate end. To learn more about her brilliant, but star-crossed career you can start here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nancy_Benoit

Hopefully we'll be back soon with some more old-school wrestling stuff plus a helping of baseball banality. Until then check out our page on Facebook or under the screen name "sprtcom102" at Twitter because apparently we we're a 14 year old girl in another life.

Just A Rat Tail Away From The Trailer Park

    ...so I'm shaving this morning and I leave that little bastard spot below my nose for last when my girlfriend comes in and says in an accusatory tone, "you're not gonna leave that are you?" So now I'm sporting a Hitler moustache...that should teach her.

Seriously, though, I'm kidding...I don't have a girlfriend.

But I do have an obligation to my loyal fan(s?) so just a brief update to inform you that we'll have Part 4 of our Seminal Sluts series up on Thursday. Be back then.

Royally Hungover

    Still recovering from dancing the night away with Becks, Posh, Pippa...and for some reason Mr. Bean. But what a grand time it was what with the pomp, the pagaentry, the giant hats, but for crissakes could somebody put a coupla Newcastle's on ice for a change...I feel like I was drinkin' outta Mrs. Butterworth's head all night. Still drunken rantings aside it was a bloody good romp and in spite of these tough economic times I only hope those two crazy kids make it.

    Unfortunately it has delayed the highly anticipated Part Four of our "Seminal Sluts of the Squared Circle" series. A title I should mention that has cost me 4 Facebook friends and counting because some women can't appreciate a good misogynistic Heel persona or else they know me too well. Either way our next bitterly cynical installment should be up in the next coupla days with a look at the roles of Sable, Debra, Sunny and Wendi Richter on this Journey of Jezebels. Until then throw a poor, functioning alcoholic a "like" at the "Bowling Til' It Hurts" FB page. See ya soon.

Here's Princess Beatrice in a functional hat that can be fashioned into a post-reception IUD for that unexpected, tipsy romp with Guy Ritchie.

Seminal Sluts Simplex 3

   The best way to elucidate the buzz on the Internet over the first two parts of our four part series on wrestling's trailblazers of tittilation would be to borrow the words of the late, great Billy Idol (no, seriously, he's alive?) who sang, "with a Rebel Yell she cried mo', mo', mo'"...which actually I've always found strange since for my money Curly was the looker. And even though I admit it was more of a warped whisper than a rebel yell and that any woman caught on this site would be tossed out of NOW like Snooki from a Mensa meeting I think my point is clear. So let us forge ahead.

    And when we left our stalwart strumpets they had reached something of a crossroads on the way to Knockout-ness. The quaint cuteness of Sunshine and Precious had finally given way to the brazen bimbo-sity of Missy Hyatt and it seemed the dye for these heroic harlots was already cast. But not so fast...

    Before Vince McMahon Sr.'s  body was so much as tepid in the mid-'80s his son had begun a mad dash for the big cash that would make Anna Nicole Smith's run to the Dallas County Probate Court after J. Howard Marshall's funeral look like she was leading the Macy's Day Parade. Against his father's dying wishes Vinny Jr. began storming through the long protected regional territories and setting up his own nationwide wrestling dynasty. Problem is this plan began by targeting a pre-pubescent audience that was closer to thinking "milk" than "motorboat" when they saw the mountainous mammaries that we take for granted today.

    Thus the likes of Hyatt and company were put on hold, but only temporarily. And even someone like myself, whose deepest thoughts at that time tended toward deciding whether Razzles was a candy or a gum, could see the inevitable coming. But until then let's look at some of the transitional tarts who helped build the bridge to Diva-dom.

1. Luna Vachon- Dave Meltzer, the dean of wrestling writers, once observed that he could tell how "over"/believable was Bruiser Brody's persona in Japan by the fact that when fans ran from other wildman wrestlers like Terry Funk, Stan Hansen and Abdullah The Butcher they did so with smiles on their faces, happy to be part of the act. When they ran from the the chain-swinging Brody, however, their faces showed true fear. That's kinda how I feel about Luna Vachon.

    It may be the face paint, the perpetual sneer, the teased mohawk or the fact that she patented a move called the "Crotch Claw", but I've been sleeping with a light on ever since I researched this "Anti-Diva". Though I guess that's what you get when your mother remarries and you're adopted at age 4 by "Butcher" Vachon.

    To his credit the Butcher tried to dissuade a young Luna from entering the biz. His plan, however, featured a move that could make the Houston couple who sent their kindergartner to school with a loaded gun look like Ozzie Nelson and Donna Reed when he sent his 14 year old daughter alone on a European tour with Andre the Giant. Apparently the idea was to get little Luna to despise the grind of the road, but with Andre's well known penchant for drinking, joking and taking home multiple women who wanted to find out if he truly was "The Giant" it turned out to be like trying to reform an effiminate delinquent by placing him in "Scared Straight"- one walk past the communal showers and it would look like things were one big party in the big house.

    Next thing you know Luna had shaved her head, wrapped herself in chains and joined Kevin Sullivan's Army of Darkness, a stable featuring a relief map forehead-ed King Curtis and "Maniac" Mark Lewin that could make the bar in Star Wars look like a George Will-led meeting of The Heritage Foundation.

    After cutting her teeth with Sullivan's horde in Florida Vachon's actions became even stranger. She married wrestler David Heath (later Gangrel in the WWE) , but when she sent in a tape promoting him to Vince McMahon he took one look at her bizarre managerial act and offered her the contract. The only problem was she had disappeared on a tour of Puerto Rico and it took two teams of private investigators to find her wandering aimlessly around the island like a bizarro world version of Margot Kidder.

    In the WWE she was put into a fued with a then novice Sable where she competed in a series of "Evening Gown" matches in which the object was to be the first to strip the other to their bra and panties. That Luna prevailed over the nubile newcomer at every stop is a bet even Art Schlicter could've cashed. From there the two engaged in more conventional matches where Luna, apparently having seen the slutty writing on the wall as to the future of women in the promotion, had to be repeatedly advised not to slap Sable around too much for fear of rendering her unattractive for photoshoots.

    Dissastisfied with the growing sexualization of the WWE Vachon jumped to ECW where the idea that things would be different seemed belied by their already featuring a valet named Kimona Wanalaya (say it slowly) at the time. There she managed Tommy Dreamer, but broke this off when her husband, Gangrel, became jealous. That Dreamer was involved with  5'6", 110 lbs. cutie Buelah McGillicutty at the time and Luna was once involved in a faction billed as The Human Oddities apparently never crossed Gangrel's mind.

    Vachon continued to work into the new millineum, but sadly things did not go well for this woman who gave so much of herself to the sport. In 2000 she was diagnosed as bi-polar and in 2004 she became a Born Again Christian and was baptized by Nikita Koloff which may make her Russian Orthodox (I like the hats, very pious), I'm not sure. She passed away in August of 2010 at age 48 from an overdose of prescription medication which is to wrestlers what drive-by shootings are to rap stars. A true professional to the end.
Hey, who's up for a threesome!?!

2. Chyna (Joanie Lauer)- How popular was Chyna during her D-Generation X run? So much so that it provoked WCW into a game of one-upsmanship where they hired their own female bodybuilder (Cristi Wolf) to accompany their top clique, the NWO, and dubbed her Asya thereby seeing the WWE's country-theme and raising them a continent. To date there is no word if making Perry Saturn wear sundresses and leather skirts for 30 days after a loss to Chris Jericho was taking this to a planetary level, but Lord knows Vince Russo and company did dumber things (google "The Finger Poke of Doom" for Exhibit A).

    Before we make any wisecracks though I have to admit that if I ever feel bad about some aspect of my upbringing all I'll have to do is think of Chyna's childhood and the moment will pass. For by the time I was sitting in my parent subsidized off-campus apartment, sucking on a Zima (which "zucked" by the way) and trying to decide whether Wang Chung or Kajagoogoo was my generation's Pink Floyd Chyna had already lived through more nightmares than the denizens of Elm Street. In fact before she had graduated High School her parents had divorced over her father stabbing her mother with a butter knife, she went through 3 stepfathers, suffered from bulimia, received sexual advances from a teacher and was diagnosed with an ovarian tumor. Yet she still found time to play cello in the school orchestra which goes to show...there's always room for cello.

    Considering that I once writhed on the ground clutching my liver from watching the movie Barfly I find it no less than a miracle that Chyna survived these traumas to attend the University of Tampa where she graduated with a B.A. in Spanish Literature. The return to normalcy continued when she came out of a stint in the Peace Corps (God, I'd kill to get in the Peace Corps) and ultimately completed Flight Attendants School.

   But if there's one theme throughout these pages it's that once the Pro Wrestling bug gets hold of you it treats you like that one they put in Ricardo Montalban's ear in The Wrath of Khan. Lauer chucked the stewardess gig and enrolled at Killer Kowalski's Wrestling College which I don't believe offered courses in Miguel de Cervantes.

    Her initial rise was meteoric. Quickly jumping from the independent circuit to dating Triple H and taking the WWE by storm. Her size also inadvertantly established a separation between Valets and Wrestlers among the girls. Too big to compete seriously with other women wrestlers Vince McMahon was able to basically ignore the whole division and let Chyna compete full-time against the men. Any other ladies looking to break into the big time then had to do so on looks alone leading to the likes of strictly eye candy types like Debra and Sable until Trish Stratus and Victoria/Tara came along and resurrected the hottie as grappler type.

    At this point the WWE marketing machine went into overdrive and pretty soon this Khloe Kardashian look-a-like was posing for Playboy and Hustler, guest starring on a number of TV shows and hitting the best seller list with her autobiography. Still you knew the inevitable crash was coming.

    Released in 2001 by the WWE Chyna was also stripped of her trademarked moniker and began showing up on the reality circuit as China Doll or under her real name. A stint on VH1's Surreal Life ended up exposing her wild on-again/off-again relationship with wrestler X-Pac that ultimately produced the sex tape One Night in Chyna...though my suggested subtitle (And A Lifetime With Chlamydia) was rejected by the distributor. Today Chyna still pops up on reality shows such as her 2008 turn on Celebrity Rehab. Not surprisingly a therapist who goes by the less than confidence inspiring title Dr. Drew was unable to break her of an addiction to painkillers and sleeping pills that helped ease the pain of a lifetime of physical and mental abuse. Still she survived an overdose in 2010 and remains a testament to the fact that women can legitimately make it in the male dominated world of wrestling.

3. Elizabeth- The Paris Hilton/Kim Kardashian of the Wrestling World. Elizabeth is mostly famous for being famous as far as I can tell although the folks at the pink and baby blue "Miss Elizabeth Worship Page", where you can sign a petition for her WWE Hall of Fame induction, might think otherwise.

    Liz jumped into the spotlight when she began managing her then husband Randy "Macho Man" Savage on his highly successful WWF run. Stiffer than Gary Glitter at Chuck E. Cheese her whole repertoire consisted of standing at ringside looking tan and pretending to be on the verge of tears kinda like Speaker of the House John Boehner watching Bedtime for Bonzo. Eventually she worked her way up to participating in angles and interfering in matches, but she still doled out dialogue about as often as Marlee Matlin though not quite as clear.

    Despite divorcing in 1992 she hung around  as Savage's manager until the late-'90s.  Then in the wrestler's mid-life crisis version of buying a motorcycle Macho Man chucked her in '98 for 22 year-old stripper Stephanie Bellars who worked under the ring name Gorgeous George. She briefly tried to go it straight when she married Florida attorney Cary Lubetsky at the Cuban Hebrew Temple in Miami where I believe they served Kosher plantains and unleavened frijoles at the reception.
     
    It didn't take and the couple divorced 6 months later. Then sensing, at age 39, that the hourglass on her career was running out she quickly opted for breast implants and a chance at one last run in the dying WCW. There she was put into programs that had her stalked by Goldberg, mentally abused by Sting and kidnapped by Vince Russo and yet the worst thing to come out of the whole experience was her real life hookup with Lex Luger. Already in the midst of his own professional demise Luger had turned his condo into a den of steroids, painkillers, sleeping pills and cocaine that was one grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich away from Graceland circa 1972. Ultimately Elizabeth would die from a prescription med OD in 2003 and Luger would be hauled off to jail on a litany of drug charges. Another cautionary tale of running off to join the circus.
Elizabeth striking her trademark "Lions and Tigers and Bears" pose.

4. Madusa Miceli- The ultimate anomaly Madusa was a woman ahead of her time. With striking good looks, the ability to work a decent match and competent mic skills she was the whole Diva package before promoters and bookers knew what to do with it. Thus instead of establishing herself as a star in any one territory Madusa bounced literally around the world in a career of fits and starts that never quite took off.

    She posed for Playboy as early as 1987 then refused to sign the release form. Won the WWF title as Alundra Blaze then jumped to WCW and threw it in the garbage on Nitro. Saw her popularity take off like a Tamagotchi from Hell upon debuting in Japan in the early '90s, but chucked it to work for the LPWA whose payroll meeting ability was in a league with Frank McCourt's Dodgers.  Perhaps if she had stayed in one place for any length of time or someone had developed a longterm program for her she could've been more than a pleasant basic cable distraction. We'll never know.

    A legit tough woman in 2000 Madusa agreed to take the big bump in a WCW scaffold match with Kidman, Shane Douglas and Torrie Wilson and disappeared from TV without a word shortly thereafter. Today she has her own stream of consciousness blog that in true enigmatic style is part religious, part soul searching, part self promoting and done in an odd grammatical style of misspellings, ellipses and mostly lower case lettering with the odd capital thrown in for good measure. Like someone tossed the complete works of e.e. cummings and James Joyce in a wood chipper and randomly pasted the letters on a page ransom note-style. She also is a serious competitor on the Moster Truck circuit, holds several black belts and worked "shoot fight"style in Japan so we'll just leave our snarky comments at that.
Next stop The Super Terrific Happy Hour...Banzai!

Part 4 with Woman , Sable, Debra and the Boogie Woogie Man's Big Mama up next. Check back for updates or go to our Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Bowling-Til-It-Hurts/144323018970626  to see the latest.

Delving The Depths Of My Shallowness

    Because you crazy kids have been there for me throughout this crusade to change the Blogosphere twelve angry ounces at a time it is with joy in my heart and Tiger Blood in my urine that I announce the launch of a Bowling Til'It Hurts Facebook page dedicated to this the only true written word sports humor blog on the internet- or in other words no videos yet as my technological ineptitude knows no bounds. So one man, one blog and one thousand Pabst Blue Ribbon empties later here's the link http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Bowling-Til-It-Hurts/144323018970626  Just hit the "Like" button and you'll be instantly updated as to my frighteningly depraved thoughts, inebriated ramblings and flesh crawling crying jags...it's like being one of my ex-girlfriends when the bars close. And please check back Saturday for Part 3 of our 4 part tribute to the History of Harpies in Pro Wrestling.
It's always the hot girl with some horse's ass...

Seminal Sluts of the Squared Circle

    In my 6 or so months as an Internet satirist of the inane and insipid in the world of sports I've tried to cover a good deal of psuedo-intellectual ground. I've limned the literary from Dos Passos to Dostoyevsky, researched the rich repository of Rock-n-Roll, mined the milieu of the American TV sitcom and poked fun at the train wreck that is modern day Pop Culture on my personal  Indifferent Torpedo of Torpor/Sobriety Is Not An Option Tour de Farce. Yet despite this not inconsiderable effort to bring depth and nuance to the sports blogging abyss to date my most popular post with over 2000 page views and counting is a cynical slideshow of implant irony and vagina jokes on Bleacher Report entitled "The Top 10 Knockouts of TNA Wrestling" (http://bleacherreport.com/articles/632824-top-10-tna-knockouts-angelina-love-velvet-sky-tnas-other-beautiful-people).

    However, unlike Van Morrison who once moaned to a reporter that, "all fans want to hear are my f---ing hits" (yes, but that's why you're allowed to be a fat, obnoxious, drunken sot...and isn't that what it was all about anyway?) I have decided to embrace the sphere to which it seems I am sadly suited. So without further intro here is my archaeological attempt to unearth the origins of the ever growing and insanely popular titillating and erotic side of Professional Wrestling...plus there's pictures! Mazel Tov!!

    Now it only figures that the likes of  current wrestling hotties such as Maryse, Angelina Love, Kelly Kelly and Velvet Sky were not immaculately concieved into our livingrooms fully quaffed and rouged like some member of the Judd family (my kingdom for the head of a male Judd!). But it is a fact that the ubiquity of these tantalizing tarts today makes us forget there is a long, hard history preceding this ultimate tease.

    So we can start by saying that behind every good man there's a good woman, but based on the outwardly loose morals of the women chronicled below chances are it was as often as not the other way around. As these earliest incarnations of today's Divas and Knockouts used whatever womanly assets they could muster to ingratiate themselves to more than willing to oblige grapplers in exchange for the chance to finagle their way onto television and into our post-pubescent Saturday morning TV fantasies.

And in the beginning there was...

1.Sunshine- Alright maybe she wasn't technically the genesis of this genre, but my first recollection of a wrestler being accompanied to the ring by anyone other than a fat ex-Heel (Fred Blassie, Captain Lou Albano) or loud-mouthed Jew (The Grand Wizard, Eddie Creachman) was when the syndicated World Class program found it's way to a late night MSG time slot and Jimmy Garvin was seconded by this impish blonde. Sunshine was actually Garvin's cousin so hopefully she didn't "earn" this role as alluded to above, but she certainly wasn't without her charms. Basically she was to wrestling kinda what Mary Ann was to Gilligan's Island- a non-threatining cutie who you still felt under the right circumstances you might have a shot with. The type of girl who was "local hot", but not so hot that you'd be afraid to ask her for a pencil in Math class and when she inevitably produced one made you feel like you were a "player". In short, a destitute man's Courtney Thorne-Smith and ultimately an early taste of what women could provide the world of sports entertainment.
OK so Torrie Wilson she's not, but hey you gotta start somewhere.

2. Precious- We've all done stupid things in our younger days- drink till we puke, drug ourselves to incoherence, pretend to like Jim Morrison's poetry album (which come to think of it may be related to the previous stupidity) and the like. For Precious this list also apparently includes her leap into the seedy world of 1980's Pro Wrestling. When Sunshine moved on Jimmy Garvin decided to coax his then (and current) wife Patti Williams into the valet role under the psuedonym Precious. According to an August 2010 Charlotte Observer article (yes, sometimes I actually click 2 or 3 Google pages in during my research) Williams accepted reluctantly and seems to feel uneasy about her role to this day. Though she appeared on TV and at major events throughout Texas, Georgia and the Mid-Atlantic region her bio is blank at the Online World of Wrestling website and her page has been pulled for a "G10 violation" (which I believe is the same reason George Costanza couldn't return that book of French pastoral paintings he took to the bathroom in Brentano's) at Wikipedia. Now if I could only do the same with this Tijuana purchased lower back tattoo...

3. Jeannie Austin- Jeannie Austin went through wrestlers like Angelina Jolie goes through Third World babies. From 1978 to 1991 she married and divorced in succession "Gentleman" Chris Adams, Billy Jack Haynes and "Stone Cold" Steve Austin though she later admitted the Haynes coupling was arranged to keep her from being deported back to the UK. Her most indelible contribution to the business, however, comes from being credited as the inspiration for Steve Austin's ultimate gimmick when she told him to "drink his tea before it gets stone cold". Not exactly a killer tale for one of the greatest bad ass personas ever developed. Sorta like finding out the band Jethro Tull was named after a 17th Century agriculturalist who invented the "seed drill"...true story.
Again not making anyone forget Trish Stratus, but she knew how to match a dress to the ring steps.

4. Toni Adams- Apparently when it came to picking up women "Gentlemen" Chris Adams had a rap that fell somewhere between the formality of Tennessee Williams' "Gentleman Caller" in The Glass Menagerie and comedian Doug Benson's pickup line, "my penis just died can I bury it in your ass." Obviously Adams dangled the prospect of D-list TV stardom in front of unsuspecting damsels and like Jeannie Austin before her Toni Lea Collins took the bait becoming Toni Adams and "Gentleman" Chris' valet/manager in the mid-80's. For her trouble Mrs. Adams would wind up having her top torn off on camera by Tojo Yamamoto, be the "spankee" in a "Loser Gets Spanked Match" with Billy Travis and in a more distressing real life incident get assaulted by a drunken Chris Adams precipitating their divorce. She continued working through the mid-90's feuding with such forgettable ladies as Sweet Georgia Brown and Dirty White Girl and managing mid-card marauders like Iceman King Parsons and Brian "Grand Master Sexay" Christopher. Sadly Adams passed away at age 45 from an abdominal abcess infection similiar to the type that killed David Von Erich.
Now things are moving in the right direction though not sure if she was managing Gold Dust at this time or that's a bodysuit under her jacket here.

5. Miss Linda- When it comes to Rock bands I have a very simple rule. That is I'll never follow groups that use more makeup or hair spray than my mother. Thus I am not a member of the KISS army and I pretty much sat out the whole Motley Crue/Poison/Whitesnake era listening to Molly Hatchet and The Charlie Daniels Band. If Miss Linda wanted to make it big in wrestling she might have been better off heeding my rule before she decided to hook up with "Exotic" Adrian Street in the '70's and '80's. As his nickname implies Street was a unique act. He draped himself in clashing tie-dyed colors, painted his face back when the Road Warriors were "bouncing" drunks at Chicago frat parties and wore his bleached blonde hair in mini-pigtails. Next to this Human Jackson Pollock painting Miss Linda never stood a chance of getting noticed. She briefly tapped into some latent Blackfoot blood for a Native American gimmick that never took off before finally settling in as Street's "stylist" throughout a career spent mostly in the Triple-A of the wrestling world. But in one of the few happy endings for these Gloria Steinem's of the Slammin' Set The Exotic One and Miss Linda were married in 2007 and currently run a successful ring attire business. So that's nice.

That's all for know, but we'll be back on Tuesday with the next installment featuring Missy Hyatt, "Sensational" Sherri Martel, Baby Doll and Elizabeth.

Modeling Socks On The Radio

When I set upon my journey of trying to become the "Charles Bukowski of Sports Journalism" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Bukowski I expected a lot of things: tremors, dyspepsia, nausea, explosive diarrhea, palpitations, projectile vomiting, acute pancreaitis and the occasional case of dropsy (people still get that, right), and believe me I have not been disappointed. What I did not expect is the outpouring of support I've received, particularly from some two dozen loyal readers who "didn't just save my life, but made my life worth saving" (McCormick & Jojo, copyright 1986). You guys are truly the wind beneath my wings, the handful of hair that pulls me from the toilet bowl, the shove that rolls me so I don't drown in my own bile...and to show my appreciation here's a slideshow of big breasted women and misogynistic jokes. God, I love you mugs... http://bleacherreport.com/articles/632824-top-10-tna-knockouts-angelina-love-velvet-sky-tnas-other-beautiful-people


 "...and this one's for Bucky 'Freakin' Dent..."