[NOSTALGIA] The WAWLI Papers No. 283

[Oldfa...@aol.com]

The WAWLI Papers
(Wrestling As We Liked It)
By J Michael Kenyon

Issue Number 283
Saturday, October 10, 1998
New York City, New York, US of A
__________________________________________

IN THIS ISSUE: RASSLIN' HISTORY MADE HERE
(THAT IS, MADE IN ST. LOUIS -- WHERE ELSE?)
___________________________________________

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_________________________________________

CRIME AMONG THE WRESTLERS

(St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Sunday, Mar. 21, 1993)

Liza Cody has built a strong following among mystery buffs
for her novels featuring British private detective Anna Lee.
Now she has outdone herself with the creation of another
leading female character in her new book, "Bucket Nut" (236
pages, Doubleday, $18.50).

The character's name is Eva Wylie, a professional wrestler
who calls herself "The London Lassassin" and who lives in a
junkyard where she works as a guard, along with two vicious
watchdogs. Wylie had a rough childhood, in a fatherless
home with a prostitute mother, and she has three big
ambitions: to become a champion wrestler, to make enough
money to get her bad teeth fixed and to find a younger sister
who vanished into the foster-home system as a child.

Cody lets Wylie tell the story herself, in a tour de force of
first-person prose reminiscent of J.D. Salinger's Holden
Caulfield. In spite of the London slang words that baffle an
American reader at times, Wylie spins a fascinating tale of
life in the British pro wrestling world and London's criminal
underworld as she pursues her dreams. Anna Lee makes a
cameo appearance in the book and signs up Wylie as a
future strongarm assistant in crime solving.

I predict Cody's fans will like Wylie as much as, or more
than, they liked Lee. I think she's terrific.
___________________________________

FIGURING OUT WHAT THEY SEE IN THAT STUFF

(St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Sunday, Dec. 22, 1996)

By Philip Kennicott

I have finally seen the light. For years I dismissed it as an art
form peopled by overweight divas, dressed in garish
costumes, acting out flimsy, preposterous dramas. But then,
in a flash of insight, I found the beauty. And I can thank one
of the world's most promising young Wagnerian sopranos
for all of this.

Yes, Jane Eaglen has introduced me to heavy-weight
wrestling, the professional variety, the half-sport, half-circus
that seems always to be playing out somewhere in the
nether reaches of the vast wasteland. Late one night last
week, adrift in maddening insomnia, I found CNN airing a
brief profile of the 30-year-old British soprano. Although
still young for someone with her size of voice, she is already
an international presence, and the most promising
Wagnerian soprano in a generation.

The CNN piece was the usual television fare: She's down-to-
earth, she's funny, she likes rock music and heavy-weight
wrestling. Throughout much of it Eaglen sits in the hair-
dresser's chair, making droll remarks while an epicene
stylist teases out her red locks.

And then, in a brief, serendipitous blast such as only can be
found on late-night television, CNN showed a clip of a huge
mound of naked, airborne adipose, flying in slow motion
from the top of the third rope onto the prostrate body of
another wrestler. All the while, Eaglen's thrilling voice rang
out as accompaniment. It was an epiphany.

It's no mystery that the ears can make the eyes see more
vividly, and vice versa. Music we hear on a film soundtrack,
or listen to while driving, seems to penetrate the brain
somehow differently from music heard with the eyes
otherwise disengaged. It may simply be a question of
how the brain is hardwired.

And yet, I remember once "discovering" beauty, simply
because an organ started playing, in a visual style I
previously found repellent. In an Italian Baroque church,
overpopulated with marble angels encumbered by
endless folds of undulating stone garments, suddenly the
organist began playing Frescobaldi. And in a flash, all that
seemed static and contrived about the visual style
disappeared into a sea of motion; the billowing marble
dresses seemed very much animated by an invisible wind,
the angels seemed as if about to take flight.

The somewhat less elegant figure that took flight on CNN's
Eaglen profile is apparently known as The Undertaker, a
saturnine man with long, stringy black hair, and a cold, icy
stare.

"He's in touch with the dark side," Eaglen says in a grave
voice.

As a professional soprano, a woman who impersonates the
suicidal Brunnhilde on a regular basis, Eaglen must herself
be acquainted with the dark side. No surprise, then, that The
Undertaker is her particular favorite on the wrestling circuit.
Despite her world peregrinations, Eaglen supposedly keeps
up with all of The Undertaker's dark doings; e-mail , we're
told, can facilitate this close contact with the dark side.

The name is telling - The Undertaker. There's a certain
modesty in it. He's not The Eliminator or The Executioner or
The Grim Reaper. As an undertaker, he doesn't cause
death, he just makes it look more attractive. There you have
it, Aristotle's theory of the tragic catharsis, in a nutshell.
Well, maybe a corollary.

Undertakers are as close as one can possibly be to the dark
side without actually becoming a menace. They are, in fact,
quite harmless, despite the dread they raise in us.

So too, sopranos. Indeed, the affinities between sopranos
and heavy-weight wrestlers are almost endless. There are
superficial similarities - they're both performers in a highly
scripted art form, each with a finely honed sense of camp.
And there is some deeper sociological common ground:
Despite speaking to vastly different audiences, they both
appeal to the lowest common denominator.

But of all the possible metaphors for the mysterious power of
the soprano voice, that momentary leap of The Undertaker
has something in particular to recommend it. The leap over
the void, the illusion of great danger when none actually
exists. The ever-present frisson that something disastrous
could occur at any moment, and the sense of absurdity that
human beings train themselves to do such ridiculous
things. This is what makes a soprano's upper register so
addictive.

With all this to connect them, it's odd that the marketing
whizzes haven't caught on yet. Listening to Eaglen sing
while The Undertaker took his profound plunge, I realized
that if heavy-weight professional wrestling is ever going to
expand its limited audience, it's going to have to reach out to
us opera lovers, who may find its customs at first off-putting
and arcane. But now, thanks to Eaglen's small efforts,
pro-wrestling is beginning to lose the snooty character
promulgated by its most ardent fans. Thanks to Eaglen, the
Grim Leaper can come for us all.
________________________________________

WRESTLE ROYALS

(St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Saturday, Oct. 4, 1997)

That Which We Call A Rose ...

Here's a real bunch of sweethearts, the guys who will be
slammin' it out at Badd Blood, this Sunday at the Kiel
Center.

WHAT: Badd Blood", the WWF's monthly pay-per-view
event.

WHEN: 5:30 p.m. Sunday.

WHERE: Kiel Center.

THE PROGRAM:

1. Hell In A Cell steel cage match, featuring Undertaker vs.
Shawn Michaels.

2. USA vs. Canada flag match: Patriot and Vader vs. Bret
Hart and British Bulldog.

3. Six-man Tag Team Match: Legion of Doom and Ken
Shamrock vs. New Nation of Domination.

4. WWF Tag Team Championship Match: Headbangers vs.
Godwinns.

5. Dude Love vs. Brian Pillman.

6. Intercontinental Championship Tournament Finals.

SPECIAL APPEARANCE: St. Louis wrestling legends Lou
Thesz, Harley Race, Dory Funk Jr., Terry Funk and Jack
Brisco will be on hand.

TICKETS: $10-$19, available at the Kiel Center box office
and all Capital Ticket locations. Or call Dialtix (314) 969-
1800.

PAY PER VIEW: $29.95.

Welcome To A World Ruled By Powerslams, Piledrivers
and Slop Drops

UNDERTAKER
Height: 6'10"
Weight: 328
Home: Death Valley
Finishing Move: Tombstone Piledriver
Career Highlight: Two-time WWf Champion

SHAWN MICHAELS
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 227
Home: San Antonio, Texas
Signature Move: Breaking the hearts of female fans.
Career Highlight: One of only four grapplers to capture the
triple crown - Federation title, Intercontinental title and tag
team title.

THE PATRIOT
Height: 6'2" Weight: 250
Home: Columbia, S.C.
Signature Move: His mask, which represents "the many
faces of America."
Career Highlight: Made first appearance during the "Raw is
War" broadcast this past July.

KEN SHAMROCK
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 235
Home: Sacramento, Calif.
Signature Move: Submissions of any kind.
Career Highlight: Officiating a match between Stone Cold
Steve Austin and Hit Man Hart.

BRET "HIT MAN" HART
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 234
Home: Calgary, Alberta
Signature Move: The Sharpshooter Career Highlight: Five-
time and current WWF champion.

VADER
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 458
Home: Rocky Mountains of Colorado
Siganture Move: Vader Bomb
Career Highlight: Taken prisoner in Kuwait after an
altercation with a talk-show host.

"LOOSE CANNON" BRIAN PILLMAN
Height: 6' Weight: 230
Home: Cincinnati, Ohio
Signature Move: Ranting tirade
Career Highlight: Signing with the WWF after being named
an All-American in football at Miami of Ohio.

LEGION OF DOOM:

ANIMAL
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 295
Home: Chicago

HAWK
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 273
Home: Chicago
Signature Move: Spiked shoulder pads, face paint.

Career Highlight: Former WWF Tag Team champions.

THE HEADBANGERS

MOSH
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 246

THRASHER
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 246
Signature Move: Breaking bones by day, moshing by night.

Career Highlight: Winning four-team elimination match in
WrestleMania 13 (guess they ran out of Roman numerals).

BRITISH BULLDOG
Height: 6'
Weight: 253 Home: Manchester, England
Signature Move: Powerslam
Career Highlight: Two-time former tag-team champion.

DUDE LOVE
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 287
Home: A boiler room in parts unknown
Signature Move: The Mandible Claw
Career Highlight: Transformation from wrestling fan Mick
Foley to Cactus Jack to Mankind and, finally, Dude Love.

THE GODWINNS

HENRY O. GODWINN
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 288

PHINEAS I. GODWINN
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 285 Home: Bitters, Ark.
Signature Move: The Slop Drop

Career Highlight: Former WWF Tag Team champions
_____________________________________

JUST THINK, RASSLIN' MADE HISTORY HERE

(St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Sunday, Feb. 19, 1989)

By Kevin Horrigan, Sports Editor

Eight-fifteen Friday night and I am sitting in my car, trying to
get into The Arena parking lot, thinking that the solution to
St. Louis's arena problem should begin with a small tactical
nuclear device.

I have never seen traffic like this at a St. Louis sporting
event. I sit in my car, creeping forward, and I am proud.
Just when you thought St. Louis was sliding into the
backwaters of American sports cities, along comes an event
like the one at The Arena Friday night to restore hope to
the burg.

We may not have pro football any more. We may not have
pro basketball any more. We may not even have indoor
soccer any more. But, by golly, when the World Wrestling
Federation needed a place to continue the epic confrontation
between Hulk Hogan and Randy ''Macho Man'' Savage, the
WWF knew where to turn. Kind of brings a lump to your
throat.

Many thoughts come to your mind when you are stuck in
traffic outside The Arena with three boys in the back seat.
How much is tuition at those military schools? Why did
writing a rassling column seem like a good idea? Why is the
city so eager to turn The Arena site into a ''mini-Clayton?''
Isn't the real Clayton enough?

I am thinking, six years ago I met Vince McMahon when he
was just getting the World Wrestling Federation into the big
time. I should have quit my job and signed up, because
Vince McMahon is a genius. He turned pro wrestling from a
series of local jokes into a major national joke. He got it onto
prime-time television and cable TV pay-per-view. He
licensed toys and games and pre-ripped Hulk Hogan T-
shirts. Vince McMahon is the Pete Rozelle of the '80s.

Finally, at 8:45, we get into the building for the 8 o'clock
card for which I left my home, 10 minutes from The Arena,
at 7:30. Going in, we pass dozen of disappointed fans,
turned way from the sold-out building. I have never seen
such a crowd here, not for Missouri-Illinois, not for the Final
Four, not for the Stanley Cup playoffs. But then this is not
your ordinary sporting event.

This was Hulk Hogan, the symbol of rasslin's new era, the
former title holder, former celluloid sparring partner of Rocky
Balboa, star of stage, screen and little plastic action figures
littering the nation's family rooms, in the same building with
Randy Savage, his good friend and heir apparent, the only
man the Hulkster had deemed worthy to hold the
Championship Belt when he was cheated out of it by the
perfidy of Andre the Giant and Ted DiBiase.

The Hulk and Macho Man wouldn't exactly be wrestling each
other, but they would be breathing the same foul Arena air
for one of the first times (they've staged this act in other
towns) since their tragic falling out on NBC Prime Time two
weeks ago in Milwaukee. Surely, you've heard the sad
details. Hulk and Macho, wrestling as the tag-team ''The
Mega-Powers,'' were pitted against the Twin Towers,
Akeem and Big Boss Man. The Lovely Elizabeth, Macho's
constant companion and manager, was felled outside
the ring by a falling body. The Hulk rushed to her rescue,
carrying her in his arms to a first-aid room, leaving Macho to
be pummeled mercilessly by the Twin Towers.

Luckily, there was a TV cameraman who just happened to
be in the right place to capture every step of Hulk's frantic
rush to the first-aid room. We viewers at home got live
pictures of the sweating Hulkster holding Elizabeth's hand,
saying, ''Ohgodohgodohgodohgod'' for approximately 15
minutes.

When Macho finally appeared, he was not very happy. Hey,
you wouldn't be happy either if you'd been left alone with the
Twin Towers. Amazingly, he didn't have a single bruise. But
Macho's real concern was that the Hulk had tried to steal his
woman. They don't call him Macho for nothing.

Well, ever since then the bad blood has been bubbling.
Elizabeth - miraculously, she survived her wounds - was at
ringside Friday night when Macho clobbered Bad News
Brown with a chair to successfully defend his championship.
And because she's Hulk's manager, too - her management
style seems to consist of wearing a revealing dress - she
was there when

Hulk climbed into a steel cage with Big Boss Man in the
main event. But lo, just as Hulk was about to climb out of
the cage and win the event, who should appear to claim his
woman but the Macho Man. Hulk, perplexed by his old pal's
jealous rage, climbed down from the cage and immediately
was clobbered by Big Boss Man.

Hulk recovered, handcuffed Big Boss Man to the ring ropes,
and won the bout. But his heart was broken. It's become
obvious to even the thickest wrestling fan that he and Macho
Man are going to have to duke it out.

Nobody knows exactly when, though April 2 on national pay-
cable for ''Wrestlemania V'' might be a good guess.

Just a guess. And, just think, St. Louis was part of it. My
eyes are getting misty.

__________________________________
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