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Punk’s title win, Rock’s mere presence save Survivor Series from turkey status

November 21st, 2011 2 comments

A few random thoughts about last night’s show, but first want to say that I’m behind–already–in my Memphis/Mid-South series. Unfortunately, over the last few months of very long days at the computer, I’ve developed carpal tunnel syndrome. There are times when the discomfort is so great that I just can’t write or must take frequent breaks during writing sessions, which is slowing me down. This has been especially frustrating since I make half my income from freelance writing, in addition to my full-time editing job, but that’s life. I’m undergoing physical therapy and should learn this week if I need surgery. At any rate, I’ll catch up over the Thanksgiving break.

Rock star: The Great One FINALLY returns to his adoring public in New York City.

With the best announcer in the business relegated to the sideline, Booker T joined Jerry Lawler and Michael Cole on commentary at Survivor Series. My goodness. Look, I respect Booker as a performer and as a man who overcame a troubled past to make something special of himself; however, his commentary is so unintentionally hilarious and distracting that he’s wasted in the role. His “wowwww” has become the modern-day “What a maneuver!”–a McMahonism that Vince would bark every time a spectacular move he was unfamiliar with would unfold in the ring as innovators like the British Bulldogs, Randy Savage, Ricky Steamboat, the Rockers and Bret Hart joined the company in the mid- to late ’80s and greatly changed the Former Fed’s in-ring product (especially the undercard, until they eventually outshined dinosaurs like Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant). Booker’s observations, such as that was “the biggest armdrag I’ve ever seen” (during the the Mark Henry and Big Show bout, which featured so much mat wrestling that I believe it must have been laid out by Daniel Bryan as a rib), leave my friends and me howling with laughter and mocking his comments; e.g., later, I crowed that Guinness people just confirmed that Show’s DDT was the largest on record as well. The two huge moments booked for the show–CM Punk’s WWE title win in the storied venue that at one time was the company’s showcase arena for major title changes, and the Rock’s return to MSG and most likely his final appearance as a wrestler in the building–could have been made to feel that much more special with Jim Ross calling the action and helping to masterfully shape the storylines. Meanwhile, Booker brings out the worst in Michael Cole, whose heel shtick peaked during his WrestleMania buildup with Jerry Lawler. Oddly, Booker’s role in the main event seemed to be painting Rock as selfish–which is unusual because the Samoan people, with the exceptions of Afa and Sika during their heel run as WWF tag champions with Capt. Lou Albano, are traditionally very giving people.

Meanwhile, WWE had the decency to bring back legendary ring announcer Howard Finkel, who was replaced years ago when his dated look became more important than his wonderfully booming voice. Finkel was so choked up over his return to MSG and the crowd’s reception that he botched Punk’s intro, struggling to get the words out and maintain his composure. Lawler issued a great old-school King line, saying Fink was enjoying this so much he may never make the intro. Of course, he finally did, and Punk covered it by rolling his eyes, jokingly looking at his watch and then hugging the Fink. Punk then took a page from the Fantastic Four’s “The Thing” and delivered a battle cry of “It’s clobberin’ time” as he charged the ring. While I’m sick of the WWE title bouncing around like the AWA Southern title in Memphis, I liked the call to make the switch here, especially in NYC, to help reignite Punk’s character, which has cooled recently over poor booking and politics out of his control. The bout itself was solid, especially the last five minutes, when the crowd suddenly woke up after enduring the proverbial Go To Sleep of Henry vs. Show. The title win came via Anaconda submission after a cool flurry of reversals (during which Punk’s tights came down, exposing his bare ass a la Ric Flair in the late ’80s, which earned the biggest pop of the night from my wife). The new champ dove into the audience in celebration twice in the aftermath, showing more agility and safety than Sin Cara, who injured his knee during yet another botched dive during the traditional Survivor Series elimination matchup. I hope the title gains some stability at this point, with Punk heading into ‘Mania as the champion.

Show vs. Henry was pretty bad, though both were trying. Hell, Big Show, even hit a Randy Savage elbow, despite the fact that it took him approximately 9 hours to get in position on the top rope–much like the Beth Phoenix/Eve Torres spot earlier in the evening, which appeared to do more damage to the Divas champion than the challenger. The NYC crowd never gave the match a chance, with several vocal chants directed at men nowhere even near the arena on this night (Undertaker, Daniel Bryan), which is never a good sign for the two guys in the ring. Major step back for Henry on top as champion.

Despite being booked to lose often (which used to indicate a top or mid-guy might be getting the title to build up credible challengers; nowadays, who knows…), Bryan remains over with the fans because of his obvious talent. This vocal NYC crowd, more demanding than most, was desperate for the Show/Henry program to end, so they really hated the finish, with Henry getting himself disqualified for a low blow. Plans could and often do change, but it appears Henry/Show will meet yet again in a gimmick match for the blow-off.

Bottom line: The Rock nearly knocks Cena out of his camo jorts.

The Rock’s return was the highlight of the show, and WWE masterfully focused the spotlight on the returning Great One. He lit up the Garden with a long promo early in the show, mentioning his grandfather, Peter Maivia challenging Superstar Graham for the WWE title (technically, the WWWF championship in those days). Funny-in-hindsight start to the Maivia/Superstar feud: the champion smashed the High Chief’s prized ukulele over his head, breaking the Samoan’s heart as well in the process…and inspiring a young Wayne Ferris. Rock also mentioned his father, Rocky Johnson, and his run as WWF (leaving the F in this time, which was censored) before closing by leading the crowd in a rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York”–this segment was going so long, I was thinking Rock was preparing to say, “And for my next number….”, but he instead wrapped things up. Still, he had the crowd in his hand most of the way, and the more Rock, the better, right?

The match itself was pretty damn good, despite the poor buildup for the heels. Cena entered to a loud chorus of boos, reminiscent of a hot heel in the kayfabe era…or maybe the current First Lady of the United States at a NASCAR event earlier that afternoon. Cole mentioned Rock’s seven WWE title wins, which means he’d likely have at least 25 reigns by now if he hadn’t left for Hollywood. Rock looked amazing here, physically and work-wise. He’s in the best shape of his life, so he was moving with a quickness that he didn’t even have eight years ago. His timing was flawless, a credit to Miz and R-Truth as well, who reportedly worked out in the ring with Rock a few weeks ago. Even his usual lame Sharpshooter looked more believable with him really cinching down on the Miz. The crowd largely jeered when Cena was on offense; it would have been the perfect environment for a heel turn, but he may not have made it out of the Garden alive. Besides, that’s still two years away, when his merchandise-buying fan base starts junior high and doesn’t find Cena so cool. Rock got the pin after the People’s Elbow on Miz, who seemed to be relishing his role as Johnson’s opponent. The aftermath dragged a bit and was anti-climatic, with Rock predictably hitting Cena with a Rock Bottom following a handshake and a long stare-down. Cena took a powder, leaving Rock in the spotlight to salute the MSG crowd to close the show. Nice moment, but it was a little too safe, in my opinion, to get people really talking about the WrestleMania main event. Yeah, yeah, the match is still months away, and you don’t want the heat to peak too early, but I wanted something a little more here, perhaps even a pull-apart between the two. Ah, well, it was certainly fine for what it was. They clearly wanted to close the show with Rock shining in the spotlight as a wrestler (superstar…whatever)–not just a Hollywood actor who sends in taped promos between breaks the set. In that sense, mission accomplished, as the Rock proved he’s still one of the all-time natural greats for the business and came off like a badass.

Like, totally awesome: An in-depth look at Memphis and Mid-South Wrestling TV in 1983

November 18th, 2011 8 comments

The year 1983 dropkicked off with a bang in Jerry Jarrett’s territory. A continued smorgasbord of memorable Memphis mayhem was sure to follow in the New Year after the table had been set in 1982 with the emergence of the Fabulous Ones; debuts of fresh young talent like Terry Taylor and Jacques Rougeau; the continued hilarious, motor-mouth promos of manager Jimmy Hart, the leader of The First Family;  the introduction of Kimala, the Ugandan Giant; Andy Kaufman’s reign as Intergender champion; the tag-team excellence of Koko Ware and Bobby Eaton; and Jerry Lawler’s classic clashes with natural-born nemesis Nick Bockwinkel, the AWA World champion, whom the King had seemingly dethroned in front of 10,000-plus fans at the Mid-South Coliseum on Dec. 27, 1982.

A fabulous year: Stan and Steve were a red-hot box-office draw heading into 1983.

In many ways, Memphis started off 1983 so hot, packed with a variety of talent, that it seemed almost too good to last. In fact, with the pending invasion of the Vince McMahon marketing machine, two of the most innovative promotions in the country–Jarrett’s Memphis territory and Bill Watts’ Mid-South Wrestling were struggling to maintain consistent success at the box office by October 1983. After assessing each other’s product, including Watts visiting the Coliseum, and Lawler and Jarrett traveling to Shreveport for a TV taping (marking the first time the King and Jim Ross teamed on commentary), the two promotions traded talent. (Jim Cornette, who was shipped to Mid-South to begin his solo managerial career along with Eaton and veteran Dennis Condrey has since referred to it as the only time Jarrett came out on the short end of the stick in a deal.) But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Last week, I received the latest DVD set from Rick Crane over at 70s-TV.com: the near-complete season of  MEMPHIS WRESTLING: 1983, which consists of shows various sources, including some the 90-minute Memphis broadcasts, with most content from the 60-minute versions looped around other towns in the territory. The set comes on 25 discs, with a bonus disc to set up 1983: the 1982 Christmas episode.

With this wonderful collection in hand, I contacted Micah Watts, Bill’s son, who’s one of the last remaining holdouts in his refusal to sell his father’s storied tape library to Vince McMahon. (Micah’s site, Universal Wrestling Archives , is one of the most thorough ’80s wrestling collections around, as apparently Bill was one of the few promoters at that time who didn’t tape over his shows and kept them in pristine condition.) Rick and Micah agreed that a week-by-week review, culminating with the trade that would greatly transform how Mid-South Wrestling was presented (in part thanks to new booker Bill Dundee, who learned the craft under Jarrett) would be fascinating reading. (Special thanks to Micah for passing along the Mid-South footage, which I received yesterday.)

I’m starting with Memphis the ’82 Christmas show. Then on Saturday, I’ll have a rundown of the 1-1-83 Memphis shows, along a report of the first Mid-South show of 1983: the 1/6/1983 episode. Should be a fun look back at two of the most pivotal points in the histories of both promotions as they reshuffled their troops as Vince Jr. geared up for his nationwide takeover of the wrestling business.

 

The 1982 Memphis Wrestling Christmas Special 

Airing on December 25, 1982, the signature opening to Memphis Championship Wrestling begins with Strauss’s “Also Sprach Zarathustra” (Theme from “2001: A Space Odyssey”) playing as the statue of Greeks grappling (aka the “Hellenistic Greek Wrestlers Bonded Marble Statue“) spins, giving way to Lance Russell, without his faithful sidekick Dave Brown. In a slight departure from his usual greeting, Lance notes he’s “NOT right alongside ringside;” Christmas 1982 fell on Saturday morning, making a live show at the WMC-TV Studio impractical. Lance reassures the violence-starved audience, however, that this won’t be your typical Bing Crosby special, with the boys sitting around singing carols, though he admits “that’s not a bad idea” (um, have you heard Jerry Lawler sing?!); rather, despite, the delightful setting, complete with a huge frosted tree in the background, the holiday episode will be packed with “some great action tape,” along with live appearances by Lawler, Bill Dundee, Terry Taylor, the Fabulous Ones and Dutch Mantell–the nucleus of the strong babyface side of the crew. Like any good Southern business, the on-camera face of the company, promoter Eddie Marlin (Jerry Jarrett’s right-hand man and father-in-law) kicks things off by wishing his ticket-buying fans all the best and a Merry Christmas, earning praise from Russell: “By golly, Eddie, that’s an awfully nice greeting!” (Lance seems genuinely touched by Marlin’s poigiant words.) Lance reflects on the past year, praising Marlin for assembling the greatest bunch of talent he’s ever seen in the territory. (Jarrett preferred to concentrate company’s creative direction and business affairs, rarely appearing on camera at that time, so Marlin was seen as the talent negotiator in the eyes of the fans.) Russell, who usually kept the hype in check unless he was genuinely excited about a match or card to maintain his credibility, most likely meant that with all his heart, as 1982 was indeed one of most entertaining, lucrative years in the territory’s history. As they go to a break, the camera reveals a spectacular living room with an amazing wooded view, which means that they might have been taping from Jarrett’s house.

The King is the first guest, introduced by a video of clips of some his greatest bouts, mostly his triumphs since his return from a broken leg nearly two years to the day, set to Elvis Presley’s version of “My Way.” As Lawler might say, this touching tribute “could bring a tear to a glass eye.” A classic rogues gallery–Joe LeDuc, Austin Idol, Paul Ellering, Jimmy Valiant and Crusher Blackwell, etc.–goes down one by one at the right hand of Memphis’ number-one son as Elvis sings, “I’ve loved. I’ve laughed and cried. I’ve had my fill; my share of losing. And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing. To think, I did all that. And may I say, oh no, oh no, not me. in a shy way…I did it my way.” Apparently, Lawler’s way was a series of kicks and punches, followed by his surefire finisher of a fistdrop from the middle rope.

Lawler then appears on set, wearing a ski-lodge sweater, joining Lance and Marlin on the couch, humbly thanking for the fans for a strong year as Lance commends the King on his accomplishments. Lawler mentions his apparent defeat of NWA World champion Ric Flair on Memphis TV and how he was unable to get a rematch for the 10 pounds of gold after dropping the Southern title to Nick Bockwinkel, who went on to regain his AWA World title from Otto Wanz the following week. However, Lawler defeated Bockwinkel in the middle of the ring to regain the Southern crown on Nov. 8, setting up an AWA World title bout scheduled two nights after the Christmas show on Dec. 27. Lawler also discusses how he’s not only had to deal with Jimmy Hart throughout the year but also rookie manager Jim Cornette, a former photographer. Lance cracks, “When I first heard that Cornette wanted to be a manager, I thought, ‘You gotta be kidding me!’ A picture taker in wrestling!’”

With the Bockwinkel bout coming up–the King’s first real crack at a World title since his return from relinquishing the CWA title, Lance mentions how Lawler has beaten Terry Funk, Dory Funk and Jack Brisco. In a funny exchange, Lance reiterates Lawler’s distinguished record against former World champs, saying, “Jerry, I hope I’m not boring you with all this.” Lawler, in his best Jack Benny impression, deadpans, “Not, not yet. Go on!” (The comedic timing between those two, with Lance as the straight man, is priceless.) Lawler also mentions that young star Terry Taylor, the Southern champion, might be a nice guy but he’s carrying the King’s belt. (Too bad that bout never took place, with Taylor perhaps turning heel, displaying the arrogance that eventually made a strong heel briefly in the UWF before JCP bought out Bill Watts and buried Terry and most of the former Mid-South crew.) When the cocky-yet-likable Lawler feigns insult over learning he’s not the only special guest on today’s show, the segment closes with the King literally twisting Lance’s arm to show some classic ’70s footage of his career set to “Nobody Does It Better.” The show goes to a break as Willie Nelson sings “Jingle Bells.”

After a break, the show returns to a Bill Dundee video montage with the whimsical tune “The Way We Were” playing. That’s back-to-back videos with the two biggest single wrestlers in the territory featuring the musical stylings of Carly Simon and Barbara Streisand. Somehow, though, it actually works, since the Superstar spent much of the year injured so he wasn’t his old self. And there is something a little sad, especially in hindsight, with the closing clip of the video–a January 1981 shot of Dundee and an in-shape Tommy Rich (months away from his his first NWA World title win) celebrating a Louisville victory over Mantell and Idol–when you consider how Wildfire’s career as a major player burnt out just a few years later. (“If we had the chance to do it all again, tell me could we?”) The video highlight has to be the cool finish to a bout with Tony Charles, with a series of nice reversals that ends with the Englishman pinned by the crafty little Aussie.

Lance asks Bill about his “high spots” (dang it–kayfabe, Banana Nose!), with Dundee referring to the CWA World tag-title win with Rich to open the year. (Perhaps Bill was still punchy from his rough year, as that victory was in 1981.) Bill also discusses his low moments, including a legit separated shoulder that required them shooting an injury angle at the hands of Hart’s First Family. (That angle was well done, as Dundee is ganged up on, with Sweet Brown Sugar (heel Koko Ware) repeatedly diving onto the shoulder with a vengeance.) “Like any professional athlete suffering an injury” Dundee explains, he hit the gym for a comeback, when he was manhandled by some goons in the parking lot after a workout and was sidelined again. (In reality, it was just one goon, Randy Savage.) Hell, with all this misfortune, no wonder Dundee turned heel months later.

Lance marvels at Dundee’s resilisciency: “A lot of guys would have said, ‘Holy mackerel, the heck with this, but you kept coming back!” Another video plays, shot while Dundee was on the shelf earlier that year, on horseback with his arm in a sling (as the animal gallops briskly down a hill, the one-armed Superstar’s expression at one point appears to say, “Hold shit!), and later apparently daydreaming about a return while walking in the woods–yet another piece of footage most likely on Jarrett’s property, as Willie Nelson’s “All of Me” plays. Dundee humbly thanks the fans for their support and promises a better 1983–which would include turning his back on them and sticking a dagger into their broken hearts as he cheats his way to a win over Taylor for the Southern title on March 23, 1983.

Willie Nelson’s residual payday continues as “My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys” plays over Dutch Mantell footage. Appearing on set wearing blue jeans, a flannel shirt and a huge cowboy hat, the Dirty Dutchman looks like he just stumbled out of a local honky tonk just hours earlier–and knowing Dutch, that might have been the case.

Lance and Dutch are great here discussing Mantell’s “rollercoaster year,” as Russell mentions each big title win, with Dutch raising his arms every time. And then each title loss is mentioned, with Oil Trough, Texan hanging his head in mock shame as if each defeat still carried a “Shoo-Baby” (his bullwhip)-like sting. When asked about the highlight of his year, Mantell points at Lawler, and says it was winning the Southern title from the King. In fact, Dutch and Jerry did have an incredible series in spring 1982, with Dutch receiving plenty of cheers as he pinned Lawler clean twice…a rarity. (Dutch discussed that unique feud with me in-depth in our interview last year.)

Dutch says that it was tough beating Lawler because he had everything going against him, including the fans. Lawler playfully tugs at Lance’s jacket, interrupting, saying, “That’s not true–you had plenty of fans…I heard them.” (Years later, Dutch recalled how much fan support he did in fact have, especially in Nashville, where fans threw rocks at Lawler’s car and broke his antennae–and this was at the height of the King’s popularity!) Fun to see the banter between these two, as Lawler also mentions that Dutch beat him on afternoon show–the same day of his wedding later that night, so clearly his mind was elsewhere. (And if you remember Mrs. Paula Lawler, can you blame the guy? Sounds feasible.) Dutch jokingly accuses Lawler of ruining the festive atmosphere, calling him Ebenezer Scrooge. (Speaking of which, Jimmy Hart is nowhere to be found, as Lawler had given fans an early present by burning the manager’s face repeatedly and breaking his arm in a cage match a week earlier. But, as 1983 opened, it would Hart who had the last–and loudest–laugh.) As Lawler puts his hands over his eyes, Lance airs footage of the afternoon win–set to the riveting music of…ABBA?! (“The Winner Takes It All.) Again, while an unusual choice, the slow music was by design, as Jarrett instructed cameraman Randy West to shoot extreme close-ups of the action a la World Class–which Memphis never did–to illustrate both the agony and defeat of a classic struggle. As they return to the set, Lawler offers Dutch his congratulations, giving him the boys’ soft worked handshake on TV (oops), with Dutch claiming that he really does like the King…just as much as he likes going to the dentist. Funny stuff and playful ribbing here.

Willie Nelson’s “Here Comes Santa Claus” takes us to the next break; coming back, we see video of Taylor’s highlights, with John Denver’s “Some Days A Diamond” playing–this could almost pass for a “Hee-Haw” Christmas special at times. The montage include footage of some amazing tag matches between Eaton and Sugar vs. Taylor and Jacques Rougeau–a feud that was all-too brief. Taylor comes in slacks, a sports coat and glasses, looking more like a substitute math teacher or a graduate assistant than the Southern champion. But when asked how it feels to be champ, Taylor suddenly transforms into an Muhammad Ali, jokingly claiming to be “the greatest of all time”–not too shabby. Mantell breaks out his own impression of John Wayne, warning that “the ride gets tougher, pilgrim.” Dundee plants the seeds for his heel turn with a great line directed at Taylor, who’s still mugging for the camera: “I hope that you when you wrestle me for that belt in 1983, your best impression is as a wrestler because my bad luck is behind me.” Taylor responds with a Roddy Piper impression, “Me, me, you wanna fight me?!” Taylor shows more personality here than he did all year.

The Fabs are next, with their introductory video that changed that set the tone for the MTV-style presentation that would become a staple of the promotion–and broaden its demographic greatly to teenage girls.

Steve Keirn and Stan Lane are clearly dressed for the occasion as they make their way to the couch wearing their sequined tuxedo jackets, high hats, white gloves–looking sharp, looking for love (cue ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dressed Man”). Keirn credits mentor Jackie Fargo for their success, saying the original Fabulous One had the most charisma of anyone ever in the business–and he might be right about that, paly. Keirn really puts over Fargo as their inspiration for providing their magical spark, saying they feel the spirit of the Fabulous Fargos every time they strut to the ring. Lane, ever the ladies’ man, with a sly grin and a slight wink, encourages their female fans to “hang their stockings up tight because the Fabulous Ones might be coming down their chimney tonight,” as Lance guffaws. Awesome.

Lance wraps up the show, as the boys mix and mingle, decorating the tree, acting as if there all having the time of their lives, despite the lack of booze and women. Russell warmly thanks for the fans again:  ”We are looking forward to 1983 with zest–because of you.”

An entertaining show that reminds of the campy fun WWF would begin to emulate in 1984. The chemistry among the boys at the time was really special, and it’s evident in this production–classic Memphis TV.

(For more on the year 1982 in Memphis Wrestling history, check out Mark James’ book on the subject, which can be ordered below.) 

YouTube Finds: Beware! Teijo Khan can run REALLY fast…especially when he’s freezing his ass off

November 14th, 2011 No comments

When the subject of legendary Memphis wresting managers is broached, the names Sam Bass, Dr. Ken Ramey, “Gentleman” Saul Weingeroff, Jimmy Hart, Jim Cornette and Paul E. Dangerly (Heyman) are usually in the conversation. (Meanwhile, I’m usually badmouthed in an altogether different conversation.) But you’ve got to give proper kudos to Mark Golleen–you know, of the infamous House of Goleen–who had not only had the most…memorable…accent in the business in 1987 but also an eye for fashion as well as raw talent and an appreciation for “blood sport.”

Revenge--and an introductory video in Memphis--is best shot cold: A young Jeff Jarrett suffers the wrath of Khan.

When Vince McMahon’s own instincts for style instructed Shawn Michaels that his “boots were made for walking” just before firing the Rockers after one of the shortest runs in company history after HBK and tag partner Marty Jannetty allegedly tore apart a bar during a spat with Jimmy Jack Funk (Jesse Barr) right after their debut in the Former Fed, the hell raisers wound up back in the AWA in fall 1987, with frequent apperances in Memphis.

Trouble was, Memphis was practically not only the birthplace of rock ‘n’ roll itself but also MTV-inspired tag teams like the Fabulous Ones and the spandex-wearing Ricky Morton and Robert Gibson. Every team that followed, not matter how talented, came off as second rate, most notably “The New Fabulous Ones,” Tommy Rich and Eddie Gilbert, whose appearances in the territory following the departure of Stan Lane and Steve Keirn killed the gimmick. (On that note, for those wondering why the Fabs aren’t featured in the “Memphis Heat” documentary, the charismatic duo had only about about 16 months of incredible success before leaving for the AWA and Verne Gagne, who had no idea how to properly get them over, especially without the benefit of the backing of a Southern superstar like Jackie Fargo. Sure, Lane and Keirn eventually returned and drew decent houses after Rich and Gilbert failed, but it was never the same. By late 1984–less than two years after their debut–business was down not only at the arenas but also in the Fabs’ legendary decked-out-yet-classy love van.)

Anyway, it was Golleen who turned the Rockers from babyface Rock ‘n’ Roll Express rip-offs into cocky young heel champions, cultivating the arrogance that would help make Shawn Michaels a singles superstar in the World Wrestling Federation. (Actually, the Rockers sort of turned themselves heel in the territory after Jarrett observed all the heat they had in the Memphis locker room.)

But perhaps Gollen’s greatest find was Teijo Khan, an exotic grappler whom he reportedly discovered during his world travels to a monastery in China…although most likely it was Khan’s many appearances on WTBS for Jim Crockett earlier in the year that caught the wicked manager’s eye. (Khan was Tom Cassett, an Eddie Sharkey trainee from the same school of hard knocks as the Road Warriors and Rick Rude.)

In yet another introductory video that may well have been filmed on Memphis promoter Jarrett’s Nashville estate, Golleen braves the harshest of winter chills (apparently ignoring Dave Brown’s forecast for the area) to reveal his latest find, stressing not only his man’s toughness but also his near Olympic time in the 40-yard dash…in combat boots no less. (Pack your bags, Jerry Lawler and Bill Dundee, this evil speedster will only track you down on foot.) I love how the wind gusts blow off Golleen’s jacket yet he continues his spiel–I’ll bet the boys in the back watching the monitors in the WMC-TV studio on Union Avenue  howled over that. A distraught Khan emerges from the Nashville pond, obviously freezing; I don’t believe he stopped running until he hit Memphis…or perhaps crossed paths with Apocalypse in Jarrett’s crowded woods. For Khan’s sake, I hope they got this on the first take.

In what had to be a rib, Golleen closes the promo by also announcing the impending arrival of a jungle savage reminiscent of Kimala, a wrestler whose name sounds a lot like “Yo, Mama!” Classic camp Memphis.