I stumbled across this today and thought it to be an interesting read. It's a collection of submitted stories from peoples random encounters with wrestlers.
Some highlights...
Steve Corino vs The Juggalos
Hidden text.
Dinner with The Junkyard Dog
This story takes place some time after ECW folded, when a bunch of very talented wrestlers went from performing in front of tens of thousands of people to wrestling on independent shows in high school gyms in front of 50 people.
I loved ECW, and I was a big fan of Steve Corino and his King of OId School gimmick. So when he headlines a show at my local high school, my brother-in-law and I decide we have to go. We show up, not knowing what to expect. They've set up a shitty ring in the middle of the basketball court with plastic chairs around it. The capacity is probably 2,000. There are 50 people there. They don't even have to use the bleachers. It is depressing. Most depressing: Of the 50-member crowd, probably 5 are Juggalos — Insane Clown Posse devotees in full clown grease paint.
They sit in the front row and chant horrible things at the performers. "He's a *censored*-GOT! (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap)" for example. They are loathsome little worms. I want parts of the ceiling to fall on them.
The Juggalos are led by a ruffian I will call Blue Hair, because, well, he had fucking blue hair. The four other kids are clearly stupid. I mean, like, may not be able to read stupid. Blue Hair is clearly the most clever and bold of the five, and hence the leader. The largest is a boy I will call Skinny, because he's like 6 feet tall but has not grown into a man's body yet, even though he fancies himself a tough guy. Blue Hair instigates most of the chants and general assholery.
The show is actually pretty good. Some name guys, some hungry wrestlers angling for a chance to perform at a bigger show. Finally, the main event comes. I had wondered whether Corino, who is used to bigger shows, might mail it in. Oh no. He puts on a virtuoso performance. Works extremely hard. Gives it everything he has. Really tries to entertain. I expected him to put on a perfunctory 15 minute match, but he goes for 30, takes some big bumps, is sweating heavily. He's seriously working as if this crowd is 50,000 people. I know this sounds overblown, but it was kind of an inspiring art-for-art's sake performance.
This is especially impressive when you consider that these little fuckers are chanting stupid shit at him when they aren't chanting "JUG-GA-LO! JUG-GA-LO!" Yeah, the show is all about you, shitheel.
So Corino finishes up. There is applause, even from the little fuckers. And Corino, spent, covered in sweat, bows and leaves the ring, headed for his merch table to sell more hockey jerseys. That's when it happens. Blue Hair suddenly appears totally nonchalant, as if he's walking to the bathroom, or to one of the other wrestlers' merch tables. But —clearly having planned this in advance — he turns on a dime, leaps right next to Corino and shouts in his ear: "CORINO IS A FAGGOT!" Corino, irritated, turns as if to confront him. Blue Hair dances away, grinning. Skinny, taking inspiration from his leader, says "Oh, Corino wants to throw?" and advances on Corino, ready to swing at him
It is then that I watched the switch turn on Steve Corino. He's tired, sweaty, irritated. He's put on the performance of his life in front of 50 fucking ungrateful people. Now, some overgrown mouthbreather is going to punch him? OH HELL NO. Corino grabs the kid. Puts him in a front headlock. Just starts wailing the fucking shit out of him.
The remaining three kids, who had evidently intended to attack Corino as well, suddenly get huge eyes and reconsider. This dude is in good shape, pissed off, and even if the rest of the crowd doesn't jump in to help, could probably take all five of them easily.
Wait, did I say five? Blue Hair grins like a Cheshire Cat and disappears into the crowd. He's planned this all along, apparently knowing his stupider friends would take the ass-kicking for him. The other three, seeing their ringleader bounce, quickly peace out at as well. As for the rest of us, we just stand there, watching Steve Corino pound this kid until it bores him. Some of us are cheering. Some of us are clapping. Exactly none of us are trying to get him to stop.
The next day, I looked up Corino online. I wrote him an email thanking him for the great performance, said we all actually wanted to do what he did, and told him if he had any legal trouble as a result, I would happily testify on his behalf that the Juggalos shot first, so to speak.
I got a nice email back thanking me. It was signed, "All Best, SC."
I loved ECW, and I was a big fan of Steve Corino and his King of OId School gimmick. So when he headlines a show at my local high school, my brother-in-law and I decide we have to go. We show up, not knowing what to expect. They've set up a shitty ring in the middle of the basketball court with plastic chairs around it. The capacity is probably 2,000. There are 50 people there. They don't even have to use the bleachers. It is depressing. Most depressing: Of the 50-member crowd, probably 5 are Juggalos — Insane Clown Posse devotees in full clown grease paint.
They sit in the front row and chant horrible things at the performers. "He's a *censored*-GOT! (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap)" for example. They are loathsome little worms. I want parts of the ceiling to fall on them.
The Juggalos are led by a ruffian I will call Blue Hair, because, well, he had fucking blue hair. The four other kids are clearly stupid. I mean, like, may not be able to read stupid. Blue Hair is clearly the most clever and bold of the five, and hence the leader. The largest is a boy I will call Skinny, because he's like 6 feet tall but has not grown into a man's body yet, even though he fancies himself a tough guy. Blue Hair instigates most of the chants and general assholery.
The show is actually pretty good. Some name guys, some hungry wrestlers angling for a chance to perform at a bigger show. Finally, the main event comes. I had wondered whether Corino, who is used to bigger shows, might mail it in. Oh no. He puts on a virtuoso performance. Works extremely hard. Gives it everything he has. Really tries to entertain. I expected him to put on a perfunctory 15 minute match, but he goes for 30, takes some big bumps, is sweating heavily. He's seriously working as if this crowd is 50,000 people. I know this sounds overblown, but it was kind of an inspiring art-for-art's sake performance.
This is especially impressive when you consider that these little fuckers are chanting stupid shit at him when they aren't chanting "JUG-GA-LO! JUG-GA-LO!" Yeah, the show is all about you, shitheel.
So Corino finishes up. There is applause, even from the little fuckers. And Corino, spent, covered in sweat, bows and leaves the ring, headed for his merch table to sell more hockey jerseys. That's when it happens. Blue Hair suddenly appears totally nonchalant, as if he's walking to the bathroom, or to one of the other wrestlers' merch tables. But —clearly having planned this in advance — he turns on a dime, leaps right next to Corino and shouts in his ear: "CORINO IS A FAGGOT!" Corino, irritated, turns as if to confront him. Blue Hair dances away, grinning. Skinny, taking inspiration from his leader, says "Oh, Corino wants to throw?" and advances on Corino, ready to swing at him
It is then that I watched the switch turn on Steve Corino. He's tired, sweaty, irritated. He's put on the performance of his life in front of 50 fucking ungrateful people. Now, some overgrown mouthbreather is going to punch him? OH HELL NO. Corino grabs the kid. Puts him in a front headlock. Just starts wailing the fucking shit out of him.
The remaining three kids, who had evidently intended to attack Corino as well, suddenly get huge eyes and reconsider. This dude is in good shape, pissed off, and even if the rest of the crowd doesn't jump in to help, could probably take all five of them easily.
Wait, did I say five? Blue Hair grins like a Cheshire Cat and disappears into the crowd. He's planned this all along, apparently knowing his stupider friends would take the ass-kicking for him. The other three, seeing their ringleader bounce, quickly peace out at as well. As for the rest of us, we just stand there, watching Steve Corino pound this kid until it bores him. Some of us are cheering. Some of us are clapping. Exactly none of us are trying to get him to stop.
The next day, I looked up Corino online. I wrote him an email thanking him for the great performance, said we all actually wanted to do what he did, and told him if he had any legal trouble as a result, I would happily testify on his behalf that the Juggalos shot first, so to speak.
I got a nice email back thanking me. It was signed, "All Best, SC."
Hidden text.
Hogan's a Good Sport
In the mid 1990's I was working as an assistant manager with Wal-Mart. We had various stars come through signing autographs for the Children's Miracle Network. Nikita Koloff was one. A great guy that would just sit and chat until a fan would come up. He would instantly turn into the Russian Nightmare and then flip into telling me about how crappy his last flight was. Good guy. The best ever? Without a doubt was JYD himself, the Junkyard Dog. JYD came in and just lit the place up. A total professional. I think he wanted to switch jobs. He was watching for shoplifters while holding some 5-year-old kid up for a picture. He would call me over and whisper "Watch that one boss. She's left and come back twice." Funny stuff. The best part and my best memory is when he wrapped up for the night. He finds me and asks me if I can give him a ride to the hotel. Hell yes I can give JYD a ride! We leave and head for the hotel when he asks, "You hungry boss?" I'm a big guy. I'm always hungry. I asked what he wants. He tells me that he eats at a lot of chain places so could we go to a good local place?
Bea's Restaurant is a Chattanooga institution. Owned by the same family for over 80 years, it is an amazing Southern food eatery. Oh, and it's a buffet! We show up and people immediately start recognizing JYD. People are coming up and talking to him while he eats. He signs autographs and barks at kids with that amazingly deep voice of his. They loved him. Now JYD can eat. He was a full-grown man! He would load up a plate with pinto beans and cover it in hot chow-chow. His whole head was sweating and he's got a handful of napkins wiping that shiny head off and plowing through fried chicken, potatoes and their incredible peach cobbler. And then it hit him. He had blown way past the point of no return. He was seriously in pain. I'm dying laughing because I've got JYD literally moaning because he is so full!
During the course of that meal he told me story after story about the good and bad in pro wrestling. He told me about Andre the Giant. His funniest story was this one. He and another wrestler and Andre were wrestling in North Dakota. In JYD's words, "Now Andre could drink." He would use a pitcher as a glass and would really put away the beer. They were in some place and a local came up to Andre and as JYD put it, "Told Andre he was ugliest S.O.B. that he had ever seen." He said Andre grabbed the guy buy the neck and dragged him to the wall, picked up a chain and jammed it into the wall with the crossbar across the guy's neck. The bartender freaked and called the cops. Cops arrive and pull JYD to the side and tell him, "We dont have cuffs big enough or a cell big enough for him. If you will promise to not come back, we will let you go." They did and they didnt. JYD said that they would rent a van when they would come to a town and Andre would just sit in the back because he was too big for cars. He really talked about what a great guy he was.
I was fortunate enough to spend a few hours with a true gentle man. I dropped him off at his hotel that night. We shook hands and I never saw him again until I saw that he had died in automobile wreck. I've never seen a guy that was 6'3" and 300lbs get laid so low by Southern cooking but I did that night. The night I ate dinner with the Junkyard Dog.
Bea's Restaurant is a Chattanooga institution. Owned by the same family for over 80 years, it is an amazing Southern food eatery. Oh, and it's a buffet! We show up and people immediately start recognizing JYD. People are coming up and talking to him while he eats. He signs autographs and barks at kids with that amazingly deep voice of his. They loved him. Now JYD can eat. He was a full-grown man! He would load up a plate with pinto beans and cover it in hot chow-chow. His whole head was sweating and he's got a handful of napkins wiping that shiny head off and plowing through fried chicken, potatoes and their incredible peach cobbler. And then it hit him. He had blown way past the point of no return. He was seriously in pain. I'm dying laughing because I've got JYD literally moaning because he is so full!
During the course of that meal he told me story after story about the good and bad in pro wrestling. He told me about Andre the Giant. His funniest story was this one. He and another wrestler and Andre were wrestling in North Dakota. In JYD's words, "Now Andre could drink." He would use a pitcher as a glass and would really put away the beer. They were in some place and a local came up to Andre and as JYD put it, "Told Andre he was ugliest S.O.B. that he had ever seen." He said Andre grabbed the guy buy the neck and dragged him to the wall, picked up a chain and jammed it into the wall with the crossbar across the guy's neck. The bartender freaked and called the cops. Cops arrive and pull JYD to the side and tell him, "We dont have cuffs big enough or a cell big enough for him. If you will promise to not come back, we will let you go." They did and they didnt. JYD said that they would rent a van when they would come to a town and Andre would just sit in the back because he was too big for cars. He really talked about what a great guy he was.
I was fortunate enough to spend a few hours with a true gentle man. I dropped him off at his hotel that night. We shook hands and I never saw him again until I saw that he had died in automobile wreck. I've never seen a guy that was 6'3" and 300lbs get laid so low by Southern cooking but I did that night. The night I ate dinner with the Junkyard Dog.
Hidden text.
(My Favorite) Drinkin' with The Champ
I used to live in Tampa in the late 90s, so running into some of the pro wrestlers wasn't too uncommon. One night my wife and I went to a Japanese steakhouse in Clearwater, and a couple of tables over were "Macho Man" Randy Savage, his brother, "Leaping" Lanny Poffo, and Hulk Hogan. I was never really into the wrestling scene, so it was more of a, "Huh, look at that" moment than a "I gotta go say something to them" deal.
After a sake or two, I felt the need to visit the men's room. As I'm at the urinal, in walks Hulk and takes the one right next to me! I've never been one to pass up a moment like this and bolstered by the liquid courage from earlier, I looked him in the eye, then looked down at him and said, "Hey Hulkster, is that all ya got?" He just sneered at me and said, "This is all my lady can handle." After a quick nod, I got the hell out of there.
When I returned to the table, I looked over and saw Hulk, Macho Man and Leaping Lanny pointing over in our general direction. I thought for sure I was in for an ass-kicking. Turns out, he was telling the restaurant manager to put our meal on his tab.
After a sake or two, I felt the need to visit the men's room. As I'm at the urinal, in walks Hulk and takes the one right next to me! I've never been one to pass up a moment like this and bolstered by the liquid courage from earlier, I looked him in the eye, then looked down at him and said, "Hey Hulkster, is that all ya got?" He just sneered at me and said, "This is all my lady can handle." After a quick nod, I got the hell out of there.
When I returned to the table, I looked over and saw Hulk, Macho Man and Leaping Lanny pointing over in our general direction. I thought for sure I was in for an ass-kicking. Turns out, he was telling the restaurant manager to put our meal on his tab.
Hidden text.
There's a bunch more at the link, including Raven being a douche bag, Fritz Von Erich's photographic memory, and Goldberg being a diva.My brother and I and two of our friends were having lunch at Ditka's restaurant in Chicago several years ago. We were sitting at the bar downstairs having the massive steaks the place is famous for, and enjoying some beers when we see the staff start to run up and down the stairs like crazy and talking amongst themselves. Now Ditka's always has celebrities there so we wondered what all the commotion was about when in walks Bill Wirtz, the owner of the Chicago Blackhawks, with Ric Flair!
All of us at the bar start screaming "Woooooooo!" and "NATURE BOY!" as he walks in and we get nothing. Not even a glance or a look. As huge wrestling fans as kids (now all in our late 20's) this is a huge disappointment and we go back to eating out food and complaining "what a dick Flair really must be" out of the ring. We started pounding beers and finishing our steaks when Flair comes down the stairs from the dining room, looks into the bar and at the top of his lungs screams "WOOOOOOOOOOOO! Who wants to drink with the champ?" and proceeds to work the bar like the man we expected. Throwing cash down, slamming shots, wooooing every other second and generally acting like a total madman. We were in heaven.
This went on for about 30 minutes when Flair suddenly stops, throws a stack of $100s on the bar, tells the bartender "That should cover everybody in here" and walks back upstairs like nothing happened. Everyone in the bar looked at each other like "Did that really happen?" but the swirling of booze in our heads told us YES indeed it did. About 40 minutes later down the steps comes Flair and Wirtz and Flair again is acting like nobody exists as we all scream "WOOOOOOO" and "Thanks Nature Boy" as he walks past. We are watching out the window as he and Wirtz get into a limo and Flair looks back at all of us, winks and mouths a "Wooooooooooo!" as he gets into the limo.
We all felt blessed to know that even into his late 50s, Flair still acted like a high school kid hiding from his parents what he did when they weren't looking.
All of us at the bar start screaming "Woooooooo!" and "NATURE BOY!" as he walks in and we get nothing. Not even a glance or a look. As huge wrestling fans as kids (now all in our late 20's) this is a huge disappointment and we go back to eating out food and complaining "what a dick Flair really must be" out of the ring. We started pounding beers and finishing our steaks when Flair comes down the stairs from the dining room, looks into the bar and at the top of his lungs screams "WOOOOOOOOOOOO! Who wants to drink with the champ?" and proceeds to work the bar like the man we expected. Throwing cash down, slamming shots, wooooing every other second and generally acting like a total madman. We were in heaven.
This went on for about 30 minutes when Flair suddenly stops, throws a stack of $100s on the bar, tells the bartender "That should cover everybody in here" and walks back upstairs like nothing happened. Everyone in the bar looked at each other like "Did that really happen?" but the swirling of booze in our heads told us YES indeed it did. About 40 minutes later down the steps comes Flair and Wirtz and Flair again is acting like nobody exists as we all scream "WOOOOOOO" and "Thanks Nature Boy" as he walks past. We are watching out the window as he and Wirtz get into a limo and Flair looks back at all of us, winks and mouths a "Wooooooooooo!" as he gets into the limo.
We all felt blessed to know that even into his late 50s, Flair still acted like a high school kid hiding from his parents what he did when they weren't looking.
