I do not remember when exactly I started watching wrestling; that is one of those childhood memories lost in time. There is only a vague memory of my friend Kevin’s older brother Andrew telling me about a guy named Hulk Hogan one day. Andrew described Hulk as a real-life superhero to kids everywhere, destroying foes like the Iron Sheik and Big John Studd. He was the champion of the world in a fighting sport that sounded like it was a lot more fun to watch than boxing was—it was professional wrestling and it aired on TV every weekend in between Saturday morning cartoons. Cyndi Lauper was even involved, managing the career of women’s world champion Wendi Richter! I HAD to see this myself, so I figured out what time it was on and became a fan immediately. I tuned in every weekend hoping to see Hulk Hogan or his archenemy Rowdy Roddy Piper and while they usually did not appear, I saw a host of other wrestlers who represented different degrees of good and bad instead. Each of them entered the ring and punished their opponents with complicated holds and maneuvers that could be quite painful when applied. They would also grant interviews, in which they would talk to a balding announcer named Mean Gene Okerlund about what they would do against a more formidable foe in an upcoming event at a nearby arena. Mean Gene would say “DON’T YOU DARE MISS IT!” regarding this battle of the titans and go to commercial as any one of a number of current pop favorites played.
My parents had no issue with my wrestling fandom; they had watched Bruno Sammartino as the perennial world champion on Pittsburgh’s Studio Wrestling as children themselves. They probably thought it was a passing phase as many things are in a kid’s life. Wrestling was a big deal in popular culture in the mid ‘80s. Hulk Hogan was a mainstream celebrity, appearing in Rocky III, The A-Team, and on Saturday Night Live. He rubbed elbows with Cyndi Lauper, Mr. T, and even Joan Rivers! His appeal to kids was obvious, so it was natural that I would eventually hear about him and get on the bandwagon. However, my mom raised the stakes when she brought home an actual book about professional wrestling—The Pictorial History of Wrestling.
Mom was simply encouraging me to read, but The Pictorial History of Wrestling quickly became my bible for all things concerning the True Sport of Kings. Boxing writer Bert Sugar summed up each wrestler’s career in brief but informative fashion while George Napolitano provided effective visual aid with excellent photography. Professional wrestling was indeed a sport of kings and gladiators, where men (and some women) fought for glory and fame, championships, money, respect, and right and wrong. They battled through the blood, sweat, and tears as if their lives were on the line. Sugar and Napolitano’s book made wrestling matter to me. I learned something new every time I flipped through its pages. Although the World Wrestling Federation was “what the world is watching,” there was an entire world of professional wrestling that existed outside of the WWF! Pro wrestling had leagues just like baseball with their own champions. Hulk Hogan was only the WWF’s world champion; there were also guys named Ric Flair and Nick Bockwinkel who held those titles in the NWA and the AWA. I learned about other wrestlers who did not appear on WWF television, as well as some of the legends who built the sport like Lou Thesz, Bruno Sammartino, and Buddy Rogers. Japan made everything else, so of course they made wrestlers too—Antonio Inoki was the top dog who had beaten Hulk Hogan, Andre the Giant, and even tussled with Muhammad Ali! This was all very intriguing stuff for a kid who was all of eight years old.
Soon, I saw that both the NWA and AWA had weekend timeslots on our local affiliate stations and was able to see what they offered for pro wrestling. My Saturday morning cartoon schedule now centered itself around what time the Big Three’s shows were on the air. We did not have a cable TV subscription, so I was unable to see promotions like World Class and the UWF. I wanted to know what was going on with them, so I pestered adults I knew to buy me magazines like Pro Wrestling Illustrated, Inside Wrestling, Wrestling World, and Wrestling Power to supplement my subscription to WWF Magazine. What was supposed to be a passing phase had become a legitimate fandom, if not an obsession of sorts.
The Pictorial History of Wrestling continued to be my primary reference source for history regarding the squared circle for a long time, until I finally got online and started learning about an entirely different side of “the business” altogether. Those who practiced the fine art of professional wrestling now exposed the industry’s secrets far beyond anyone simply expecting me to take them at face value when they told me the sport "wasn't real.” Although I was unhappy about some of these revelations (“What do you mean, Ivan Koloff’s not really Russian?”), other factoids and anecdotes I read about only compounded my fandom. Nothing had diminished my love of watching televised pro wrestling and I think it all goes back to that hardcover book my mom brought home after work one night in 1986.
I still have The Pictorial History of Wrestling too, although I admittedly did not take very good care of it throughout my childhood. However, I actually found another copy in much better condition in a bookstore window at random one day. This copy now sits on my bookshelf, with its dust jacket intact and no little kid crayon scribblings colorizing George Napolitano’s amazing black and white photos. I was very happy for the upgrade; my parents were right when they told me I would regret basically destroying the book when I was a little kid. Finding this new copy finally corrects that error over thirty years later. I only wish that my mom and dad were still here to share in that joy with me. Today would have been my mother's 69th birthday.
