Ted DiBiase (17 page)

Because of the talk of me getting the title I got on Jim Barnett's bad side. He thought I was running my mouth, but I wasn't. There was no way I was about to blow the opportunity to capture the title. But one night in Kansas City, somebody asked me how things were going in Atlanta. I honestly replied, “It's terrible. The booking is horrible!” Word eventually got back to Jim, and he wasn't too happy.

In retrospect, I should have kept quiet about the booking. But I turned out to be right. Jim told Robert that I was in line for the title and to book the matches so that I could get over with the crowd. However, Robert was more concerned about getting himself over with the fans. He started booking matches with me and him working as a tag team. We started running an angle against Plowboy Frazier and someone else. Plowboy—later known as Uncle Elmer—was an atrocious wrestler. He would whine and cry, and did very little in the ring because he was worried about getting hurt.

Fuller was eventually replaced by Buck Robley. I knew Buck when he worked for Bill in the Mid-South, and he could book and tell a story. He knew I could work and he liked me a lot. I had some programs with Ronnie Garvin and Buzz Sawyer. Buck wanted to help me. He told me that I had heat with Jim, and he wanted me to do what I could to get Jim's boy, Tommy Rich, over with the crowd. Buck teamed me with Tommy in a program against the Freebirds. The angle was designed to get the fans to dislike them while getting us over. It was one of Buck's better angles.

During a live television match, Terry Gordy of the Freebirds threw me out of the ring. He proceeded to give me three piledrivers on the concrete floor. I started shaking and was bleeding from my mouth. An ambulance was called and I was strapped to a gurney and rushed to the hospital. The cameras never stopped running and the show ended with the legendary announcer Gordon Solie telling the national viewing audience, “Ted DiBiase has been taken to Piedmont Hospital here in Atlanta.”

Late that afternoon, the switchboard at the hospital was about to crash.
People from all over the country were calling to check up on me. It was so overwhelming that the staff even asked me for a list of people who I wanted to speak to. I accidentally left Jim Barnett's name off the list. When Tommy Rich came to visit he told me Jim wasn't too happy and to put him on the list. The rift between me and Jim widened.

I spent a week at the hospital and never said a word about the injury being a work. The company paid for everything, including my salary. There wasn't a single thing wrong with me, but I still received numerous gifts, flowers, and letters.

The doctors and nurses checked on me every day. I went through therapy, received massages, and had numerous X-rays and tests. After seven days, the doctors told me they couldn't find anything wrong, but were stumped because of the bleeding. I was released and told to come back if any more bleeding occurred. I never said a word and protected the business.

What happened was that in the locker room before the match, I had drawn some blood and placed it in a balloon. I kept the balloon in my mouth until I was piledriven outside the ring. I then punctured the balloon with my teeth and spit out the plastic for the referee to retrieve.

After spending the week in the hospital, I spent another three weeks working, but not inside the ring. They started doing interviews to build up my comeback: in the hospital, in therapy, at my apartment, in the gym getting in shape. On April 26, 1981, I finally made my return to the ring in a match with Tommy and me against the Freebirds at the Atlanta Omni.

All the towns I wrestled in were within driving distance of Atlanta. Since the trips weren't long, I would go home every night. Every Saturday morning we did TV tapings and interviews in Atlanta. Other towns we wrestled in included Columbus, Carrollton, Marietta, Griffin, Augusta, and Macon.

STEVE KEIRN:

When Teddy came to the Georgia territory we quickly became friends. He was a great guy and had a lot of respect for the business. We rode together throughout the territory and got to know each other
real well. What I also liked about Teddy was that he was a fast driver. It was very important that we got to each town early and on time. To leave as late as we could was the objective of the day. Teddy had a lead foot. He could easily make the one-hundred-or-so-mile trip from Macon to our residences in about an hour.

I rode everywhere with Steve Keirn. He and I got along real well. He had a beautiful Weimaraner dog named Elton. He was married to a wonderful woman and owned a house in the Stone Mountain area. After renting an apartment in the metro Atlanta area for three months, I eventually moved to his side of town.

STEVE KEIRN:

There is no doubt that Teddy was a tremendous worker. But he was quite naive at times, which made it pretty easy to rib him. I never pulled any serious ribs on Teddy. One of my goals back then was to be one of the best ribbers ever. Ted always used to tell the boys, “Don't rib Keirn, because when he ribs you back you are going to hate it worse than anything.”

One time, I had an opportunity to call some spots to Teddy when we were working against each other. I called a long, high spot to Teddy. He was trying so hard to get it that he kept repeating it back and forth to me. It started off with a one-tackle drop-flat, then a hip toss, a couple of armdrags, a slide out on the floor, then chase me around the ring and back in. To hear Teddy trying to repeat it back to me was amusing. Well, the spot never got past the drop-flat. Once I hit Teddy with the tackle and he dropped flat, I dropped on Teddy's back right in the middle of the ring. Now Teddy, who was concentrating on the high spot I had just called, was caught off guard. It took him a second or so to realize that I had just pulled one on him. All of a sudden he started to laugh, which caused me to chuckle in
front of the audience, and the entire time I was still lying on his back. He never took any of the ribs seriously and laughed just as hard at himself as anybody else would at him.

I was single and partying like there was no tomorrow. My one-bedroom apartment was the ultimate bachelor pad. Since I was home almost every night, I frequented all the bars and dated lots of different women. I also got to know my downstairs neighbor, Tony, really well. He and I became friends. Unfortunately, Tony introduced me to cocaine. I never abused it, but if it was available, I did it. It was very expensive and there was no way I was going to waste my own money buying it. I'm embarrassed by it today, but the truth is that I did use. It was one of the dumbest things I had ever done.

On April 26, 1981, the same day as my return to the Omni after my one-month rehab from my so-called neck injury, I met Melanie.

I was at the apartment pool working on my tan with my friend Scott and his girlfriend, LuAnn. It was roughly noon, so I had about six hours to kill before the show. While putting on tanning oil, out of the corner of my eye I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. It felt like a lightning bolt had hit me. LuAnn even had to push me out of my stare. I watched Melanie all afternoon without saying a word. I wanted to meet her, but she was obviously with a date. Eventually, I psyched myself up to go back down and chat with her.

I went back to the pool and chatted with some friends while keeping my eye on the prize. Before I could say anything, her date introduced himself to me. He pointed at the bombshell who was now staring at me and said, “Ted, there's a young lady over there who would really love to have your autograph.” I was nervous, but I calmly called to her, saying, “Well, come on over here. I'd be glad to give you an autograph.”

After an introduction and some small talk, Melanie and I proceeded to the manager's office for a pen and paper. On the way, she said, “So what's it like to be an Atlanta Falcon?” A lot of football players lived in the complex and surrounding community. I was surprised, but judging by the look on her face, she was dead serious. I explained to her that I wasn't a
football player but rather a professional wrestler. “You're a
wrestler?
” We laughed. On a piece of paper I wrote, “To Mel, the best-looking girl at the pool, for sure.”

“This is going to cost you.”

“What do you mean?” In the end, I managed to get her phone number and we said our good-byes. I then went back to the apartment to change for my return match that evening.

MELANIE:

That morning, about fifteen of my Georgia State college friends and I went rafting down the Chattahoochee River. A few of them lived at the Summit Creek apartment complex, so we ended up there just after lunch. After a while, some of them started doing wrestling moves and bodyslamming each other in the pool. They were showing off in front of Ted. I didn't think anything about it, because I never watched wrestling.

My friend used me to get Ted's autograph. As I was saying good-bye to one of my friends, I heard, “So, do you want my autograph?” I turned around, and as my friends were pleading to also get them one, I lightheartedly said, “Sure.” He motioned me over to the apartment office to get me away from everyone. I thought he was an Atlanta Falcon football player. He gave me his autograph (I still have the autograph, which is framed in the house) and then asked me for my phone number, which I reluctantly gave him. I really did not intend to give it to him because he was so big. I am only five-four and he was not only a foot taller but also had a barrel chest. Although he was cute, he seemed so huge to me. But I gave it to him.

The next day we spent all day at the pool. We got to know each other and had a great time. In the early afternoon, I asked her out to dinner. After a fine meal, Melanie asked if I wanted to go out dancing. I accepted the invitation in order to spend more time with her. As we headed to the dance club, Melanie
said, “Oh, by the way, Ted, be prepared. You will probably be the oldest person in the club.”

“Come on, Melanie, I'm only twenty-six. I'm sure I won't be that much older than everyone.”

And then it hit me. I had never asked Melanie her age. I was brought up that a man never asks a woman her age. So I asked, “Melanie, how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Nineteen? You look a lot older than that, and I mean that as a compliment.” We had a great evening and Melanie was right, I was the oldest guy in the club.

MELANIE:

Ted was very charming and nice. I ended up breaking a date to go out with him. We had dinner at Benihana on Peachtree Street in downtown Atlanta. Afterward, we went to a disco called Pogo's and had a great time. Ted couldn't dance, but I still enjoyed his company.

Although there was an age difference, it was never really an issue. He was very sweet and treated me with class.

Melanie and I fell in love over the next four months. We spent every spare moment with each other. We were very compatible. She had morals, ethics, values, and was exactly what I always envisioned in a woman (and she was smokin' hot). When my grandmother came to Atlanta for a visit, we all went out and had a wonderful time. My grandmother really liked Melanie and her opinion spoke volumes. Deep down I knew Melanie was my soul mate.

In August, the Mid-South promotion started pressuring me to return. Bill Watts, and others, knew I was unhappy in Georgia. The heat between Jim and me ended, but I still wasn't getting the push to become NWA Heavyweight Champion. Melanie and I discussed all our options and we made a decision: our relationship could work long-distance. With mixed feelings, I left Georgia in August of 1981 and returned to the Mid-South territory. I

Just after Melanie and I were married.

rented an apartment in Baton Rouge at the same complex I was living in before. Melanie flew out with me and even helped organize and decorate my apartment.

After two weeks of being apart, we missed each other terribly. I was miserable without her. In late August, I called Melanie and said, “I need for you to come back down here to be with me.” Neither of us was comfortable with the idea of living together outside of marriage, but I was overjoyed when she said, “Okay!” The same happiness wasn't shared by her parents, though. A few months later, on December 31, 1981, Melanie and I married. It was a small ceremony. The Junkyard Dog was my best man and my four-year-old son, Michael, was also a part of the service.

MELANIE:

At nineteen years old, I was in love. I was miserable without Ted and I would cry and cry. I finally moved to Baton Rouge. We were initially just going to live together, because Ted didn't want to pull me in right away because of his hectic road schedule. But being away from him was the hardest thing I had ever done. When you meet the person you are going to marry, you just know it. And I knew I was going to marry Ted.

At that point, I was still wrestling as a babyface. Sylvester Ritter, better known as the Junkyard Dog, and I were best friends. We lived near each other in Baton Rouge and traveled together throughout the territory. He was an excellent football player and had even played with the Green Bay Packers. He wasn't a great wrestler but he was a premier entertainer. Because he couldn't do a whole lot in the ring, his matches didn't last too long. I used to tease him that I would wrestle an hour every night, getting paid peanuts, and he'd walk into the ring, shake his butt to the crowd, howl at the moon, work five minutes, and he was the highest-paid guy in the territory. He would just laugh. JYD and I had many wonderful times together.