Little People's Court

I've been doing a very good job of ignoring WWE's RAW program ever since The Jericho Dare concluded this past August (see the two columns below this for details). The fact is, I rarely think about RAW. Contrarily, I make a point of recording ROH on HDNet every Monday. While that show is far from perfect, at least what they're doing for an hour holds my attention. I also don't feel like a chump for watching.

It was through sheer boredom and nothing else that caused me to stumble and fall over RAW a couple of hours after ROH finished last night. It was well into the program. My stay in WWE-land wasn't destined to be long ... truthfully, it was decidedly short. (Given the topic at hand, this turns out to be a really bad pun, something I try to studiously avoid).

When I tune in, the refuse-to-leave-and-never-come-back team of Trippie H and The Windbreak Kid (Triple H/Hunter Hearst Helmsley and Shawn Michaels/The Heartbreak Kid, together known as DX/Degeneration X) is wildly over-emoting in an exuberant display of amateurish acting. They must decide whether or not to go under the ring together. Putting aside the sense of unease THAT mental image creates, it's impossible to dismiss the boys' ridiculous antics. Migawd, the facial expressions and exaggerated performances are so outrageous and beyond the pale that even fans of early slapstick comedy must be demanding that they turn it down several notches.

(Edit: after looking around online, I've since learned the explanation for their dilemma, such as it was. It seems that Hornswoggle, the leprechaun, wants to join up with DX as their mascot. The two men masquerading as teenagers reject him outright, going so far as to nail the Little Lep with Trippie's Pedigree finisher).

Stupidly, I choose to wait and see where this is all leading. After all, when it comes to the "writing" in WWE, anything is possible with no questions asked. Absolutely anything. Just ask Mae Young.

The two stooges finally resolve their hissy fit. Am I wrong, or is Trips always the guy that wants to plunge ahead and his partner is the reluctant one that needs convincing? Eh, who cares?

Anyhoo, having come to some sort of an understanding, DX quickly stoop down low and plunge forward beneath the ring. Rather than banging their fool heads on tables and ladders and stacks of chairs (which always seem to be conveniently housed beneath the ring as a weapons repository), they instead find themselves standing up to their full height in a long hallway. Ah, of course. Why didn't I see that coming?

The "exceedingly close friends" aimlessly wander towards a sign tacked up on a door that reads "Little People's Court." The over-sized and over-cooked hams enter, and I finally catch onto the reason for DX's earlier debate. (Remember, I hadn't read the background story yet).

Continuing to watch just to see where this is going, I gather that DX has incurred the wrath of the little people ... at least the little wrestling people. A jury of six midgets sit in a makeshift jury box. (Is the word midget now considered politically incorrect? I have a difficult time keeping up with such rules as laid down by those that can't wait for opportunities to jump in and smugly tsk-tsk, thus "lending proof" of their own ultra-high levels of sensitivity. It should be bloody obvious that I mean no offense to anyone of any size).

Back to the show: a whole lot of noise, as everybody seems to be talk-shouting at the same time, with the voice of that most evil of leprechauns, Hornswoggle, floating just above the rest. I'm guessing that he's supposed to represent the prosecution or maybe the judge in whatever the case is about, but I'm not sure. Nor do I care one little bit. Hell, I care more about the frog I saw earlier in the day. Squashed flat in the gutter it was, the poor little ex-hopper.

Anyway, my sense of self-preservation kicked in at this point and I don't remember much more, except the two goofballs are found guilty of something or other. They then come sliding back out from beneath the ring. Was the poor edit intentional? Criticize them all you want, but WWE is usually very polished and professional when it comes to production values.

I guess it's a good thing that DX manages to safely escape the "hidden world of little people" ... the same mysterious place we all suspect actually exists, despite our knee-jerk denials.

Seriously, just how much longer will today's wrestling fans be willing to dine at this horse trough? When will it finally be enough for WWE's loyal customers to scream as one, "STOP THE INSANITY! WE SHALL NOT PUT UP WITH THIS CONSTANT DUMP OF STEAMING HOT FERTILIZER ANY FURTHER!"

Just how far does the E need to sink before people stop tuning in and accepting their puerile fantasies as a natural part of wrestling? With the news of a possible return of the New World Order faction to TNA come January 4th, 2010, can the current pro product possibly sink any further? (Former NWO member Sean Waltman has supposed been signed for this purpose).

The sad part is that I recall asking the same question last year. It frightens me, this bargain basement stuff I just saw. (And that was but a few minutes of 2-hour-plus show, the reviews of which have been seemingly unanimous in their scornful dismissal). I'm already dreading the thought of what that head-to-head confrontation becomes on January 4th. Will the two most watched wrestling companies do their best to out-embarrass each other, only to give themselves a hotfoot? The prospects are utterly dispiriting.

And on that joyous note, I want to send out my wishes for a very Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah and an equally enjoyable and reflective New Year to all who visit one or both of my websites. My gratitude especially goes out to those who have purchased the book, A Fool for Old School ... Wrestling, That is. Some of you have taken the time to send along your thoughts on what you've read. It truly warms this old heart to know that you care enough to honestly and fairly offer your compliments, corrections and critiques.

To put my optimist's hat on (if only momentarily), I want to believe that someday soon, a person or a collective with the necessary background and funding gives us a promotion devoted to the concept of pro wrestling as sport, rather than a comedy/action/grade-school-level TV show. An oasis, of sorts, for the fan who is beyond sick and tired of the non-stop arrogance, the contempt, the ridicule, and the abject stupidity they receive several times a week from the two primary sources.

This mentally proposed television show eschews pyrotechnics, skits and individuals whose behavior equates the maturity level of a 12-year-old approaching puberty. The unnamed WRESTLING program will be laden with well-developed matches and sensible storylines.

Yes, this WRESTLING company will make sense, dadgum it, relegating ref bumps and outside interference to genuinely surprising rarities. Logic will reign supreme! As a general rule of thumb, clean finishes will become the calling card, while contrived bullshit, nonsensical swerves and meaningless switches back-and-forth from baby-to-heel and vice versa will become naught but a distasteful memory.

I'm really not kidding, folks. In the past, I once took a certain amount of pride admitting to having worked in the business. Now, unless I'm exchanging views with fans and people who have or had been involved in wrestling, my connection remains unspoken. It becomes just too much work trying to explain the differences between what the territorial system of the past was selling (and I include both the good and the not-so-good circuits), as opposed to the pointless and pale imitation dubbed sports entertainment.

For further analysis, consider ordering my book. For now ... I think I'm gonna go egg nog myself into oblivion. And I HATE egg nog!

Well, Heck. It's Only Been 9 Months...

I send warm greetings to those I've sorely neglected far too long. At last, I've returned to the scene of previous scribblings, and I'm more than happy to do so. In a nutshell, there have been some mighty big upheavals in this old fool's life. Between that and trying to promote the RB book, A Fool for Old School ... Wrestling, That is, something had to give. (You really didn't think I could get through the first paragraph without mentioning the book, did you?)

Right now, I want to express my sincere thanks to everyone that made the purchase, the vast majority of whom reside in the U.S.A. I think it's fantastic that so many were impressed enough to send along their comments, questions and critiques. Without exception, I took all of them seriously, and appreciate the pats on the back and the occasional correction and/or criticism.

Yes, I intentionally chose to make the font size a wee bit larger than is typical of such publications. As I've aged (and I suspect we all have), I find myself more and more appreciative of such considerations. Even with glasses, I find myself squinting a fair bit. A new lens prescription is in the near future, no doubt. But even so, I wanted to present something that was immediately pleasing to the eye.

I take no credit whatsoever for the pictures found within the introductory features and at the beginning of each column. Almost all came directly from the collections of master photographers Bob Leonard and Dr. Mike Lano, with very few exceptions. I remain indebted to them for their tireless efforts that make the book so enjoyable, as quite a few have stated.

I'm also aware that there remains a few typos scattered about. The vast majority of the little buggers have been corrected. (Hey, there really weren't THAT many!) Having said as much, I make no claims of perfection. While some folks that corresponded pointed them out (and I'm grateful that they did), I've done my best to clean 'em up.

Now, on to another aspect of this first effort of mine: in all candor, I was somewhat surprised that sales in Canada haven't been as anticipated. With several of the columns detailing the doings in Stampede Wrestling, coupled along with some mention of other organizations located in the Great White North, it had been projected that a goodly number of sales would occur above the 49th parallel. Such has not proven to be the case.

Not too long ago, I became alerted to what likely is the reason so many Canadians have been hesitant to "pull the trigger," so to speak. And, if true, it makes me angry. Damn angry, actually. Apparently Lulu, the printer/shipper, is charging those of us living in this country an outrageously high shipping price. As in $1.00 less than the cost of the book itself! For cryin' out loud ... I know that would definitely cause me to pause and seriously question it!

Now, I can't state with complete certainty that this is why Canuck wrestling fans are holding off, but it sure as hell shines a light in a direction I hadn't considered. It makes more sense than anything else I've been able to figure out. The book itself is beautifully printed and bound ... credit where it's due, Lulu is supremely professional in that regard.

I was flattered to receive quite a large number of compliments on the look and feel of the tome. While I'll take the bulk of the credit for what's between the covers, it is indeed Lulu that has produced an extremely handsome book. One satisfied individual expressed how nice it looked on the shelf next to his other wrestling-related volumes. Although, come to think of it, he never mentioned having actually read it. Hmmmmm...

So, to make things more equitable, I'd like to place an offer right here and now to my friends in Canada. If you are interested in purchasing A Fool for Old School ... Wrestling, That is at a reduced rate, please drop a line in my direction at: WriterGuy1A@hotmail.com.

Fair enough?

I look forward to hearing from all Canadians, from Victoria, B.C. to Cape Spear, Newfoundland, and all points in between! And to the good people to the south of us, I greatly appreciate all the support I've received in this endeavor. It gives me lots of warm fuzzies, it does, which thankfully is NOT due to a medical condition this time around!

BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN

Note: It may appear that what you are reading is a duplicate column, found on both of my websites (Perspectives on Wrestling and Richard Berger’s Point of View). Please be aware that the first three paragraphs are indeed identical. After that, they diverge into separate subjects. I view it as a quick and easy way to get the same point across without re-writing. Others may call it proof of laziness.

Hello to my friends everywhere…

I must apologize. I’ve not been updating both of the websites far longer than I ever would have anticipated. I want to thank those folks that took the time to send e-mail inquiring about the status of my health, both physically and mentally. It’s good to be able to say I’m doing reasonably well (okay, the mental aspects have always been questionable), and I sincerely appreciate the concern people have expressed. In general, things are not bad, and the fact is they could be a whole lot worse. So, there are no complaints from me.

Occasionally, situations of the personal variety will crop up unexpectedly. In some cases, they demand virtually all of one’s attention. Such was the case for yours truly. And while the difficulties appear to be resolved, the circumstances demanded most of my time and all of my patience. Trust me; nobody would have wanted to read anything I might have written during that period.

So, unless the loose ends aren’t secured as well as I’d like to believe they are, these sites will be updated more frequently. And yes, to the few that inquired, I’m still working on the book. An announcement will be made as it comes close to publication, hopefully before year’s end. But for now, let’s move forward.

As mentioned above, it’s been a very trying month or so. Along the way and without realizing it initially, I resorted to the one tried and true method that has always helped me cope when confronting a problem. I revived a habit that dates back to childhood. In those days, I took solace by digging up and indulging in some great old school professional wrestling. (Of course, such things as videotapes and DVDs didn’t exist a-way back in the Stone Age, AKA the 1950s; no, in those days, I would read, re-read and sometimes memorize stories from the wrestling magazines).

When it comes to pro wrestling in the 2000s, technology has given us options beyond written words and photographs. We can study actual events sharply and clearly, having the choice between normal or slow speed. In some cases, we have the option of listening to the original announcers or an alternate soundtrack. All the while, we repose on a comfy couch, getting away from our concerns for just a little while, enjoying it all with an unencumbered view on a 40” widescreen HDTV set, replete with surround sound. Whatever fond memories we may have of “life in the good old days,” they cannot begin to compare with today’s digital accomplishments.

So, after rooting around in my oversized and disorganized videotape collection, I chanced upon a couple of gems. The first appealed greatly to the old OLD school wrestling fan in me. Many years ago, some kindly soul sent a tape featuring complete matches from the ‘50s and ‘60s, the majority of which originated with the Fred Kohler promotion out of Chicago. For the most part, the audio/video quality was very good, and the black-and-white footage occasionally sparkled. The matches went like this:

1. (NWA Title) Hans Schmidt vs. Lou Thesz (Champion) - 2 out of 3 falls.
2. (NWA Title) Don Leo Jonathan vs. Lou Thesz (Champion) - 2 out of 3 falls.
3. (NWA Title) Gene Kiniski vs. Lou Thesz (Champion). This is the St. Louis match where Thesz dropped the belt to Kiniski. Highlights only, no audio.
4. Pat O’Connor vs. Bob Orton, Sr.
5. Dick the Bruiser vs. Bob Orton, Sr. (This was lots of fun. Both men were despised heels, and the crowd initially seemed unsure who to back as their favorite, if only for one night. Somewhere near the halfway point, they began cheering for Orton, which is the only time I ever saw him in the role of babyface. Man, they hated the Bruiser!)
6. Dick the Bruiser & Karl Karlson vs. Wilbur Snyder & Verne Gagne – 2 out of 3 falls.
7. The Legend of Bruno Sammartino (I haven’t seen this yet).

I couldn’t help being reminded of two very noticeable differences between wrestling then and now. All of these matches had two elements in common, no matter what decade they came from.

First, there was little in the way of high-flying and acrobatics. Sure, there was the occasional well-executed Flying Head Scissors or Drop Kick, but that was the extent of the aerial stuff.

The second visible difference was that there was nothing to be found that came close to what can only be termed “death-defying stunt work.” No chairs were used (except for sitting purposes) and there wasn’t a cheap shot to be seen. Also missing from the action were the repetitive and boring outside interference and ref bump spots. In other words, the game was an entirely different animal from another, simpler time.

None of the usual trappings found commonly in today’s modern promotions existed back then. At the risk of irritating the sports entertainment fans, I maintain that the industry was far the better for it. Most of what took place was on the mat, and given the route pro wrestling has taken in recent years, it was positively refreshing to watch.

How joyful! What a delight! These men practiced the art of telling stories and communicating to the fans through their actions and behavior instead of taking the easy route via excesses. By today’s standards, the heels would get a massive yawn from the fans for their trivial dastardly deeds. The holds and counter-holds the wrestlers applied appeared to be legitimate, at least by comparison. It was not too hard to believe the performances were those of an actual competition.

Next time around (and I promise it’ll be sooner rather than later), I’ll delve into the second gem I discovered in my search through the ‘Dusty Bin o’ Rasslin’ Vids’. For those keen to guess, here’s a hint: it’s of the recent-enough-to-know-the-wrestlers-involved-but-old-school-in-the-presentation variety.

And by the way … it’s nice to be back.

DVD REVIEW: WRESTLING GOLD (SPECIAL EDITION)

Are your TV wrestling nights cold and empty? Are you so unhappy with what passes for pro wrestling nowadays that you’ve considered taking a couple of hungry cats, dressing them up in gaudy outfits, placing a bowl of tuna between them in a small, makeshift ring and then calling the action yourself? Be honest have you gone so far as to give some thought to surprising the two furry combatants with a third cat run-in?

Well, if you are missing your pro wrestling fix to that extent, then save yourself and the fightin felines the aggravation. For fans of old school regional rasslin', "Wrestling Gold (Special Edition)" is a must-have collection of matches from Kit Parker Films and VCI Entertainment. Bouts from many different territories are included throughout, with well known participants to be found in each of them. For those that weren't following the sport prior to the WWF/WWE takeover, these matches will come as an eye-opening revelation.

To discuss everything in depth that the viewer will encounter would take several columns. After all, the collection includes five discs, each of which runs for just over two hours. All told, there's a good 10 hours and 30 minutes of old school wrestling to enjoy, with one delightful remembrance after another along the way. It's a journey that fans who watched in the 70s and 80s will recall with increasing enthusiasm. It's heavy in joyful nostalgia with a small tinge of sadness, for this kind of performance art has given way to another type that is indeed a very different animal.

Disc 1, which concentrates to a large extent on action from San Antonio's Southwest Championship Wrestling of San Antonio, is labeled "Busted Open" for no apparent reason other than the title was direct and dramatic. (There doesn't appear to be any more bloodshed here than on the other four discs). But what it does have is some great memories. Right off the bat, we see Sherri Martel in her first professional match, taking on veteran Judy Martin. That's followed up by a very (make that VERY) young Shawn Michaels. At this early stage in his career, he couldn't have been in the business for more than a few months. Here, he is facing Ken Johnson. For fans of The Heartbreak Kid, this match will be something of a revelation. While his style is steeped in the traditions of a young babyface, Michaels already gives us more than a few hints at the heights he would attain after further seasoning.

There are other remarkable bouts to be found as "Busted Open" continues. For those that never had the chance to experience the charisma of Gino Hernandez, there are several samples included herein. In fact, he and Tully Blanchard were tremendously watchable as teammates and as opponents. (Two matches in particular put their considerable talent on display in both settings). If wild brawling is your preference, Bruiser Brody vs. Abdullah the Butcher is in the spotlight, along with "Dirty" Dick Slater against The Mongolian Stomper. A title match between challenger Bruiser Brody and Nick Bockwinkel closes out the first disc, and it's a honey. (Bockwinkel is managed by the always entertaining Bobby "The Brain" Heenan; no less than Lou Thesz handles the referee chores).

Disc 2 is "The Maim Event," and it floors us with an opening match that shook the wrestling world when it occurred. From Memphis, Tennessee, The Rock 'n' Roll Express (Ricky Morton & Robert Gibson) take on the Poffo Brothers (Randy Savage and Lanny Poffo), with their father Angelo in their corner. It's off the charts, and the fans never stop screaming for their teenybopper heroes. But what makes this match historic is a spot that takes place at the conclusion. On the concrete floor outside of the ring, Randy Savage attempts to set Gibson up for the dreaded Piledriver. Morton makes the save but is waylaid by Angelo, who unceremoniously tosses the mulleted grappler onto the announcer's table.

Savage then accomplishes something that was considered unthinkable at the time. He jumps up on the table and hoists Ricky into the Piledriver position. After a moment's hesitation (you can almost hear the crowd holding its breath), the twosome come crashing down through the table, Morton going head first. The resultant furor has to be seen to be believed, and old school fans denote this occurrence as a landmark in hardcore violence.

Other bouts on Disc 2 also originate in Memphis, along with San Antonio, Indianapolis, Detroit and Toronto, featuring names such as The Sheik, The Crusher, Jerry Lawler, Bruno Sammartino, Dick the Bruiser, Ernie Ladd, Ted DiBiase, Baron von Raschke, Rick Rude and on and on. Without exaggeration, it's a wrestling Who's Who of the day.

We move on to Disc 3, entitled "We Like to Hurt People." Again, there's more tremendous action to be seen, with many of the featured stars from the first two discs as well as some we've not yet encountered. Again, we're witness to crazy antics from Tennessee, and if you ever wanted to see an angry and embarrassed Rick Rude wearing a dress, this is where you'll find it. A definite high point is the "unscheduled" bout between Terry Funk and Mark Lewin that takes place in a Detroit television studio. It's a great confrontation, for it gives the small gathering of fans and the viewers at home a display of wrestling holds, counter-holds and beautifully orchestrated ring psychology, all within the framework of a personal grudge between the two men. After seeing this match, you may find yourself wondering how those living in the area that didn’t run out and purchase tickets for the Cobo Arena blow-off could rightly call themselves true wrestling fans.

Disc 4 is "No More Mr. Nice Guy" and it picks up where Disc 3 leaves off. Again, there are more top flight bouts from the various territories. Perhaps the most interesting from a wrestling standpoint is the title match from Memphis between challenger Jerry Lawler and champion Nick Bockwinkel. These are two pros that understand how to build a match in such a way that the fans can't help but become emotionally involved.

Some may find two of the gimmick matches included here to be of equal appeal. Stand back, PETA members, because Terrible Ted, the Wrestling Bear, can be seen overpowering his trainer (Gene DuBois), a referee and a preliminary boy or two that foolishly don't move out of the way quickly enough. The heyday of bears being used in the business was coming to an end, and this may be the last known bit of evidence, in the context of a full and complete match, that such an attraction ever existed.

Somewhat safer, although probably not by much, is a match from Detroit between Chief Jay Strongbow and Bulldog Don Kent. What makes it unusual is that their battle is held in the middle of the ring … inside of a shark cage. It’s akin to wrestling inside of a phone booth made of wire and steel. About as good as can be expected, given the confines of the cage and the participant's lack of mobility, but it's hard to understand just what the point was. Still, as a one-off, it's different and kind of fun, leading to an interesting conclusion.

The last disc in the collection is "Beat Me If You Can." Like the ones that preceded it, the matches are engrossing. Among the 12 bouts listed, this grouping gives us an intense fight from San Antonio between Chief Wahoo McDaniel and Tully Blanchard, a Toronto mud match between long-time rivals Tiger Jeet Singh and The Sheik, and a Memphis encounter between two legends, veteran Jerry Lawler and a young, brash Eddie Gilbert. This last one is of particular significance, as Jim Cornette informs us that it was the realization of a life-long dream for the up-and-coming grappler. As a child (and the son of wrestler Tommy Gilbert), he'd idolized Lawler. To face "The King" was, to him, confirmation that he had a place in the business. It meant everything to young Eddie, who went on to a stellar career both inside the ring and as a creative force outside of it.

And yes ... you read it right. Jim Cornette is indeed a welcome addition to the set. As if the matches with the original commentary aren't enough, there's an alternate soundtrack that features words of wisdom and humor from the encyclopedic mind and mouth of the former manager, currently a TNA employee. Complimenting Cornette with his own thoughts is none other than The Wrestling Observer's equally knowledgeable Dave Meltzer. Both do an outstanding job of providing insight by describing how matches were once constructed, as well as offering inside information and biographies on the wrestlers and the territories.

When one takes into consideration the age of the source material, the audio/video quality is surprisingly superb. As a collection, this is an absolute must for any serious old school pro wrestling fan. I simply cannot recommend "Wrestling Gold (Special Edition)" highly enough.

Richard Berger is a freelance writer and editor with an extensive background in professional wrestling. His career includes media production for Stampede Wrestling, ring announcing, regular columns for WOW Magazine and IGN.com, and special feature work for other publications. Between June, 2007 and June, 2008, he wrote a weekly column for The Fight Network and Live Audio Wrestling. To discuss Richard’s articles or just about anything else, contact him at: WriterGuy1A@hotmail.com.

The small sampling of his work found here was originally published at The Fight Network and Live Audio Wrestling. The majority will appear in a soon-to-be-released book along with new material. Stay tuned for information as it becomes available!