Recent talk of crap toys and wrestling has motivated me to have one of my sporadic (YouTube-assisted) dips into the world of professional wrestling (something I retain a guilty affection for). Via the comments section of the Guardian sports blog I came across this "gem" from the golden age of tea-time British wrestling:
The contest features the corpulent Big Daddy (Shirley Crabtree) versus the even more corpulent Giant Haystacks (Martin Ruane - whose family originally hailed from Mayo) and the match is but one of many that formed perhaps British wrestling's most famous feud.
Fans of the more technical and athletic aspects of professional wrestling will probably suffer paroxysms of indignation at the hilarious lack of actual wrestling on display. The match consists of a few bear-hugs, a handful of forearm smashes, and a shoulder-charge or two. After that Haystacks tumbles over the top ropes and that's it - match over! Despite all that, however, the clip actually showcases why for many fans the appeal of professional wrestling has little to do with sporting endeavour and almost everything to do with theatricality.
The build up is interminable - with Big Daddy's family-friendly popularity being milked to the last drop - but, when you have little in the way of end product, anticipation is everything. The completely unambiguous divide between Daddy "The Face" (wrestling-speak for the "good guy") and Haystacks "The Heel" ("bad guy"…obviously) is delicious and driven hone with aplomb.
Daddy smiles and waves, Haystacks snarls and growls. Daddy is led to the ring (to the tune of "We shall not be moved") by a cute little majorette, Haystacks looks like he'd eat said majorette for breakfast. Daddy has his "very personal friend" the Reverend Michael Brooks in his corner (seriously!), Haystacks has two bruisers called Anaconda and Banger Walsh.
I seem to recall, from reading Simon Garfield's enjoyable The Wrestling (now out of print), that some of the old-time British wrestlers considered the Daddy/Haystacks rivalry something of a nadir for the "sport", reducing it to the level of absolute farce and stripping it of any vague veneer of athletic respectability. I also recall that many of those Garfield interviewed had less than fond memories of Daddy, partly (or perhaps largely) due to the clout wielded by his brother - wrestling promoter Max Crabtree. Much the same could be said of his American equivalent in the superstar stakes - Hulk Hogan - who was (apparently) roundly disliked by his WWF colleagues. Joe Poulton's description of Daddy makes explicit the similarities (in terms of limited ability and media-friendliness) between the two:
The Hulk Hogan of British wrestling, he was Big, Blond had roughly 3 moves - Body Check, Splash and Double Elbows. Back stage politics made sure he rarely if ever lost. Sound familiar?
The mainstream appeal of BD was confirmed by his rather terrible Buster comic incarnation - a lame and strained concept that never really went anywhere (unlike the more satisfying and long-lasting "Johnny Cougar"):
Both men have now passed on to the great "squared circle" in the sky (Daddy in 1997, and Haystacks a year later) but their skills at working the crowd (rather than their wrestling abilities) remain fuzzy, warm memories for many. Haystacks eloquently summed up the buzz felt by the best "heels" (and who doesn’t love a good "baddie"?) as follows:
I felt like a conductor of the Halle Orchestra, able to play on people's emotions, making them hate me or love me as I decreed.
Speaking of heels, my copy of Garfield's The Wrestling - which discusses/features Mick "The Man You Love To Hate" McManus at length - was passed from me, to my sister, and on to McManus's niece, where (to the best of my knowledge) it still remains.
A fitting end to its travels.
Tags: Wrestling, Big Daddy, Giant Haystacks, Mick McManus, Buster
Now then, now then…
I should have mentioned that on the Simon Garfield page [here] there’s an excellent audio interview with Jimmy Saville about his wrestling days. He lost his first 85 (?) fights in a row, apparently…a record he remains very proud of.
February 2nd, 2007 at 2:58 pmThat video looks like a missing episode of ‘Phoenix Nights’. Giant Haystacks was 35 stone! No wonder there is very little wrestling, he’s having trouble standing.
February 2nd, 2007 at 4:49 pmI know. It positively reeks of Phoenix Night-ness, but probably seemed rather quaint and old-fashioned even back then. Other fun items to watch out for are the dancing “grannies”. One grabs Daddy on the way in and hops about delightedly with him. Here she is:
The other gyrates and waves her “We Shall not be Moved” scarf a short while later but you can seek that out for yourselves.
February 2nd, 2007 at 6:55 pmI was a huge WWF fan back in the mid-80s when Sky was still a European satellite channel struggling to survive in the not very cut-throat world of satellite TV at the time (it’s only rival being the Super Channel, I think). As I recall, the channel had only two advertisers, Uniroyal tyres and Yoko electronics. WWF was easily the best thing on it and my brother and I would sneak into my parents’ bedroom to watch it on the sly on Saturday evening (TV was usually banned at home)and then afterwards use our parents’ bed as a wrestling ring. I actually managed to make my brother pass out once by doing a Ricky Steamboat move on him. Scary!
What a huge disappointment British wrestling was. Compared with the excitement and glamour of WWF, what we saw on ITV at about 12pm on Saturday afternoons (and we only flicked to ITV to try to escape the bleakness that was Anything Goes complete with mauve set and a television audience comprised of the youth mass congregation in some foresaken parish), what we saw was amateur and low-budget. On top of that it was the British public at almost its embarrassing worst on TV (THE worst being the BBC footage of all the jingoism at the annual Proms). And one thing I could never figure out was its attraction to grannies, which only made it more unattractive to me. My own grandmother (on my father’s side) was an avid fan of British wrestling and darts!!!
Today I would happily sit through any WWF footage up as far as Wrestlemania 5, with Wrestlemania 3 being the best. Who can forget Hercules attacking Billy Jack Haynes with his chain (blood everywhere)? I think Hacksaw Jim Duggan had to come to Haynes’ aid with his trusty 2×4. Apparently, industry insiders all agree that the intercontinental bout that night, Ricky Steamboat and Randy Savage, was the best wrestling match of all time. Check it out on youtube!
February 4th, 2007 at 5:31 pmPaul,
Thanks for the most entertaining comments. I too remember little about Sky’s early days other than wrestling. Whatever else they had on couldn’t (obviously) compete with the pageantry and soap-opera-ness of the WWF and its many well-oiled grapplers.
Like you I used to practice manoeuvres on my kid brother, pushing two single beds together to form the squared circle. The only time I remember even mildly injuring him was when I lofted him over my head in imitation of the Ultimate Warrior’s Press + Splash. After dropping him from a height behind me I turned around to find he’d disappeared (rather disturbingly) through the crack between the two beds. He emerged red-faced and irritated, but otherwise unharmed.
We also used to have our own (imaginary) brotherly tag team with each of us taking turns to be an “opponent” when the other was in the “ring”. A running joke was that I (as the evil, treacherous brother) used to routinely offer him my hand at the end of a successful bout. When he finally, grudgingly accepted it, I’d grab him and DDT him onto the bed in a classic bit of “heel” deviousness. Ho ho ho. He’s never trusted anyone since.
February 5th, 2007 at 3:54 pmFustar,
Tis true I have never trusted anyone since and now whenever I am offered a hand to shake I proceed to inflict a damaging wrestling move on them. It can be a little embarrassing though having recently choke slammed Helen Clarke through a table…
For those of you not in the know Helen is the fine prime minister of New Zealand where I currently reside.
February 7th, 2007 at 12:09 amHey man!
Long time no hear (and, indeed, “no here”). I seem to have been writing about you fairly frequently on the blog of late. Perhaps I just miss dishing out DDTs on you.
C’mere and give me your hand…
February 7th, 2007 at 12:40 amThe early days of Sky were its best and its brightest.
This is a view probably not shared by the people working there, but I think it is justified.
As a money saving measure, the staple of their post school schedules were old, sometimes very old, US sitcoms. It was through Sky’s good offices that I was introduced to Mr. Ed, the talking horse. They also showed such time capsules as Gidget, and even the Time Tunnel- Worst Time Machine Ever, by the way.
February 7th, 2007 at 12:43 pmThough obviously nothing beat the magic of Car 54 Where Are You.
I was astonished to see later that the lowly bumbling beat cop from Car 54 had become a repspected judge in My Cousin Vinney. It just goes to show how careers can blossom.
February 7th, 2007 at 12:45 pmFully agree. The very humbleness of Sky in its early days forced them to dig into the US’s formidable TV back catalogue (something they’d probably consider embarrassingly cheapo now). The same was true of RTÉ in the 70s/early-80s, with afternoons full of Mr. Ed, The Little Rascals, Harold Lloyd’s World Of Comedy, Here’s Lucy etc., etc.
Having said all that, The Time Tunnel (which you somehow missed on RTÉ, Simon) was pretty shit (a fact evident to me even then).
February 7th, 2007 at 2:12 pmWow, I’d forgotten all about early Sky’s afternoon/evening schedule. Didn’t they used to show Three’s Company at 6pm? And before that there were usually a few good hours of TV with I Dream of Jeannie and The Ghost & Mrs Muir, as well as the already mentioned Gidget. Can’t think of too many more right now but I know there were loads. I remember my Mom coming into the room one day and being amused to see us watching the Ghost & Mrs Muir because she used to watch it on TV after coming home from school in the early ’60s - which means RTE’s afternoon schedule was better in the 60’s than it was in the 90’s when I was coming home from school, loading up a bowl of Rice Krispies (then washing the bowl afterwards instead of putting it in the dishwasher so my parents wouldn’t find out) and vegging in front of the tele from 4-6.30 procrastinating about my homework and feeling really guilty about not having the self-discipline to turn off the tele and “just get down to it”.
February 7th, 2007 at 3:04 pmBTW, after reading your post the other night, I spent about 4 hours on youtube looking at old WWF footage. I’ve been out of the loop for a long long time. When Sky became BSkyB, Cablelink lost it for a long long time so I lost touch with wrestling. By the time it came back, they were showing it at weird hours and I didn’t know any of the stars so I never got back into it. Anyway, I reckon the late 80’s were its heyday.
I came across the clip below on youtube. It’s a tribute by a fan to all of those from the WWF/WWE who’ve passed away. I hear Bam Bam Bigelow died just the other day. When I saw I couldn’t believe how many people who’d populated my childhood were now dead.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hoZlZCW_G9U
On a lighter note, Fustar, did dressing gowns feature heavily in you and your brother’s wrestling sessions? We found them pretty integral to the whole pre-match build-up! We also went so far as to source some of the entry music. I found Pomp & Circumstance (Macho Man’s tune) on a Great Composers tape and also managed to get Ricky the Dragon’s tune off some instrumentals compilation my parents came home with once!
February 7th, 2007 at 3:31 pmPaul.
We never went so far as getting the dressing gowns out. Isn’t that more of a Mexican thing anyway? I know Randy Savage wore one, as did Rick Flair, but I tend to associate that item of clothing with dandyish/vain “heels” (as opposed to high-flying tag-teams like me and the brother).
Nice touch with the music though. I think we may have just hummed or sang the entrance numbers ourselves (there was definitely no recorded music involved). Still…has there ever been a better, more fitting, marriage than the Macho Man and Elgar? A seamless fit.
Just laughing to myself remembering the bizarre and inimitable (even by wrestling standards) rhythm of the Macho Man’s speech. Never heard anything like it before or since.
Nice example here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ywQ2EnGWvAs
February 8th, 2007 at 12:12 am