Ted DiBiase (15 page)

Ervin's quick temper was now in full bloom. Sensing it, I dove down on Ervin and shoved him under the ring. I lay on top of him and tried to calm him down. As I was keeping him down with my body, I had to keep my hands on my head, because he was pounding me as he tried to get up. Ervin was screaming, “Let me go. I am going to kill that son of a bitch.” He finally calmed down and we finished the match. We ended up laughing about it over a case of beer that night as we drove back to Amarillo.

We had television interviews the next day. Ervin was a good wrestler but he got very uptight when being interviewed. During the interview, he pointed to his stitched eye and said, “You see this, this just …” He stumbled with what to say. Finally he said, “This just fuckin' pisses me off!” He walked off the set, slamming the door on the way out. Everybody busted out laughing.

Ervin had a very nice Grand Prix. For us wrestlers, a good radio and sound system was very important. So he got a special sound system installed. They didn't install it properly, so he took the car back in. After he bickered with the manager, they finally fixed the problem. That night, I rode with Ervin to Lubbock. My younger brother, John, had come to visit, so he came along for the ride.

After our match at the Coliseum in Lubbock, we stopped at a nearby convenience store and loaded up the cooler with a case of beer. John was sitting in the backseat next to the cooler, so he was designated as the bartender. As soon as we left the parking lot, Ervin turned on the radio. It was dead. He tried adjusting the controls and lightly tapped the dash, but nothing. Out of the blue, Ervin yelled out in frustration and punched his windshield with his right hand. The windshield shattered. You should have seen the look on my brother's face.

Not a word was spoken for what seemed like an eternity as we headed down the road. I could barely see out of the windshield, so I asked Ervin, “Can you see okay?” He finally cracked a smile and said, “Give me a beer.”

JOHN DIBIASE:

When Teddy got in the wrestling business, I would travel as much as I could with him. I always looked up to him. He was a great athlete and I wanted to emulate him on the football field. He was also an excellent wrestler. I respected him and he was a role model for me.

I was hired to make an appearance in the movie
Paradise Alley
. The star was Sylvester Stallone. The plot involved three Italian brothers living in Hell's Kitchen, New York, during the 1940s. Each brother used his personality to help the others in their wrestling careers.

Terry Funk was also featured in the movie as the maniacal Frankie the Thumper. Besides myself, there were over a dozen guys there, including Dick Murdoch, Bob Roop, Gene Kiniski, Ray Stevens, Dory Funk Jr., and Al Perez, to name a few. I had a part in only one scene in the entire movie, the montage. If you blinked, you would miss me. Stallone was a nice guy and treated me very well. Sly said, “I believe that these professional wrestlers are the best improvisational actors in the business.”

To be in the movie, I had to get a Screen Actors Guild card and was paid five hundred dollars a day, plus room and board. It was the easiest fifteen hundred dollars I ever made. I also received royalties from the movie. For fifteen years or so, I received a nominal check in my mailbox. I would spend the fifteen or twenty dollars on toys for my kids.

Mike London was the promoter in Albuquerque. He was a tough guy with his trademark eyebrows, goatee, and mustache. He simply looked like the devil. He was also an alcoholic. One night, I was in the main event wrestling Harley Race for the NWA world heavyweight title. Mike stood in the center of the ring and called for the microphone so he could introduce the contestants. He introduced me to a sold-out crowd. Then it was time for Mike to introduce Harley. “His opponent, weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds from Kansas City, ladies and gentlemen, your NWA World Heavyweight Champion …” He had forgotten Harley's name. Mike put his hand over the microphone, looked over at Harley, and said, “What's your name?”

Embarrassed, Harley cocked his head and mumbled, “Harley Race.” And that concluded the introduction.

As Mike was leaving the ring, some guy at ringside caught the error and proceeded to say something smart. Mike looked at the fan and, with an open microphone so the entire building could hear, said, “This is my goddamn town and I can do any fuckin' thing I want!” I'm sure the people never forgot that incident.

Shortly thereafter, the Funks sold their promotion to Dick Murdoch and Blackjack Mulligan. Terry and Dory Jr. didn't want to be tied down and were clearly making more money traveling to other places. Although Dick was my friend and unequivocally a great wrestler, he wasn't a good promoter. The same can be said for Mulligan. Business was down and the territory wasn't doing as well as in the past.

To make money, I continued going to Kansas City. Bob Geigel and Harley Race liked my work and they continued to book me. My angle with Bob Sweetan was over and I was making decent money. I was making a name for myself and picked up lots of exposure. St. Louis was a wrestling hotbed, with some of the best talent in the business.

In early 1978, all my hard work finally paid off. Sam Muchnick, the promoter in St. Louis, gave me an opportunity to work in his territory. St. Louis was like a one-city territory. It was its own entity. The talent that came into St. Louis was from all over the country.

The paydays in the St. Louis territory were much better than most places. I was making about four to five hundred dollars a week wrestling in Amarillo. When I went to St. Louis, I would average that much a night. If I was fortunate enough to be in the main event, which I was a few times, I would get paid close to six thousand a night.

BOB GEIGEL:

The St. Louis territory was effectively promoted by Sam Muchnick. Sam was president of the National Wrestling Alliance for many years. I also served as president for about four years. Verne Gagne, Pat
O'Connor, Harley Race, and I eventually bought the territory from Sam. We wanted Teddy in the territory because of his great work ethic and in-ring psychology. He was never selfish in the ring and an absolute class person in the dressing room.

Soon thereafter, Sam came up with an idea that would give me more exposure than I'd ever had before in my wrestling career. Sam knew that Harley and the DiBiase family had a great history and that he could build up the match. He said, “What if you were to wrestle Harley Race for the NWA Championship?”

I ecstatically replied, “That would be fantastic!”

In March of 1978, at the famous Kiel Auditorium in St. Louis, Harley and I wrestled in the main event to a one-hour time-limit draw. I didn't win, but the match gave me the exposure I desperately needed to move to the next level. I knew that if I performed well in St. Louis, then I would have many opportunities to wrestle in the larger markets such as New York City. Sure enough, in April of 1979, Vince McMahon Sr. inquired about my availability.

HARLEY RACE:

At one point in Teddy's career, he was in line to become the NWA Heavyweight Champion. We had many good matches together in St. Louis. He had all the skills to become a heavyweight champion. He was very athletic and extremely smooth in the ring. Despite losing his father at an early age, Ted achieved success in the same profession that took his father's life, and that speaks volumes about his character. He was a man's man.

I was very fortunate to be part of World Wide Wrestling Federation. At the time, they were known as the “big body” territory. Some of the guys that worked there were Bruno Sammartino, Pedro Morales, Ivan Putski, Andre the Giant, and Superstar Billy Graham. Their champion was Bob Backlund. I was young and had four years of wrestling experience, but I knew I was a solid
enough wrestler to make it in the territory. I was in great condition, but I didn't have a very muscular physique. I was always told to work out and look athletic, but to not overdo it by looking like a muscle head.

Vince liked my work and brought me in as both a babyface and the North American Heavyweight Champion. Jaynet, Michael, and I moved into a two-bedroom apartment in Parsippany, New Jersey. It was a forty-five-minute drive to New York City.

It was the first time there had ever been a champion in WWWF besides the heavyweight and tag-team champions. I didn't actually beat anybody. It was part of the angle to introduce me to the territory. There was no explanation where the title came from or how I had won it. Vince's agents treated me very well and I learned a lot from Angelo Savoldi, Arnold Skaaland, and Gorilla Monsoon. It was also the first time I'd met Vince McMahon Jr.

At the time, Vince's son worked exclusively as an announcer. The only time I saw Vince was when I'd wrestle at Madison Square Garden and at the television interviews and tapings in Allentown and Reading, Pennsylvania.

At Madison Square Garden, wrestling Pat Patterson.

We always got along and he conducted himself in a very professional manner.

In the Mid-South territory, the main champion held the North American Heavyweight Championship. When I got to New York, I told Vince that there was a problem with the angle. Being the class act that he was, and not wanting to step on Bill Watts's toes, a few weeks later he had me dropping the title at a TV taping to Pat Patterson. To change the name of the title, the company made up a story about Pat Patterson going off to some international tournament. Pat put up the North American heavyweight title to enter the tournament in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. He won it all, unifying the North American Championship with the South American Championship to create the Intercontinental Championship. Pat was then crowned the first ever Intercontinental Champion.

PAT PATTERSON:

I had just come to New York as a heel and Teddy was this good-looking babyface. The first time we wrestled was at a TV taping in Allentown. The fans were really into him. I beat Teddy using a pair of brass knuckles and it almost caused a riot. Teddy and I put on such an excellent and fast-paced match, which was in direct contrast to the slow-moving matches the fans were used to at that time.

But the one match I will never forget was at Madison Square Garden in 1979. It started my career in World Wrestling Federation and I still think about it quite frequently. We wrestled in the main event on the card. We had a great match and wrestled up until the Madison Square Garden's curfew—which was eleven. We did everything right going in and out of the ring, near fall after near fall, and you could feel the ring shaking from the crowd stomping their feet. The crowd went absolutely insane. I beat Teddy right before the bell went off to retain the new North American Heavyweight Champion title.

I always liked Teddy. He was a fun guy to be around and was always happy. He was also good for the business. Win, lose, or draw,
he could have a great match anywhere. He was entertaining the people and doing everything right.

The move to World Wide Wrestling Federation offered me a tremendous opportunity to both get more exposure and wrestle in front of packed houses in some of the grandest venues in the country: Philadelphia, D.C., Boston, and New York. I will never forget the first night I wrestled at Madison Square Garden—then and now the ultimate wrestling venue in the world. At twenty-five years old, I attained more notoriety and made more money than ever before.

Wrestling in WWWF was different than the Amarillo and Mid-South territories. First, the wrestling wasn't as stiff. Moves, punches, and spots weren't as snug. Also, the drives weren't bad. Most cities were within 150 to 200 miles. I still worked every day, but I was home almost every night.

I had come to the territory with Tito Santana. A great friend, Tito lived in a nearby apartment complex, and he later met his future wife in the same town.

TITO SANTANA:

When Ted and I first arrived in New York in 1979, we traveled everywhere together. We also got lost a lot. One of our first shows together was in Long Island. We couldn't find the Van Wyck Expressway or Southern Parkway. When we stopped and asked for directions, nobody knew anything or wanted to help. Ted and I were two Texas boys and people were a lot friendlier back home. It didn't take us long to figure out that nobody trusted anyone and people just didn't want to talk to us.

During my run, I had singles matches against Pat Patterson and the Iron Sheik, and tagged with Tito Santana, Ivan Putski, and Andre the Giant. I enjoyed working with Pat Patterson because he was so knowledgeable. I learned a lot of ring psychology from him and did everything he told me.

The Iron Sheik and I had a few good matches. It was about the same time as the U.S. hostage crisis in Iran. At a match in Pittsburgh, the Iron Sheik was getting booed. He was beating the tar out of me. But the tough, blue-collar crowd was so loud that the “USA, USA” chants were deafening. As the fans kicked up the noise and got behind me, the Sheik looked at me as if he was getting scared of the crowd. He said to me in his Farsi accent, “I don't think I beat you tonight, brother!” I put him at ease the best I could and the match continued. He ended up pinning me as planned.