Dusty: Reflections of Wrestling's American Dream (5 page)

Anyway, you came in to the auditorium and it was always like 150 degrees and there was a hallway where I could lean over the railing and I could see the dressing room—at the time I didn’t know that the babyfaces came out on one side and the bad guys came out on the other and in the middle they were all together and I didn’t care—because there was Thesz, really stringy-looking to me but really cut, really ripped. He was the world champion and he looked like a champion.

I can remember that he was kind of muscled up, and while the matches were going on, I could hear the dressing room door open and I would be looking down that hall trying to peek into there like a kid at a baseball game trying to look in the dugout … and he would be in the hallway back there
… he looked immaculate, he looked like he was the champion, every hair in place.

And every time I saw him, when it was show time, it was the same.

Years later, one night in Chicago, Murdoch and I were on a card with Lou and he was pissed at me, and Dick Murdoch was ragging his ass so bad, and even though he used to laugh at us, he would get pissed at us. Anyway, he had one of those rubber things where you hold it down with your foot and you work out your arms, doing curls. So he was pulling up, working out his arms and the thing slipped off his foot and came up and hit him right in the nose. I nearly died when it hit him. It was so funny!

But even though that happened to Lou, watching him when I was a kid and watching the crowd react when he was introduced, he carried himself like a champion, I remembered back to the old Austin city auditorium like it was yesterday, there he was, he had the blue robe on, and he had the old belt on, the original Ed “Strangler” Lewis belt, and he came out last because he was the champion.

That taught me something. I always made sure that I was over enough that I never came out before the other guy. You can go back and document everything that I’ve done … never would I go into the ring before my opponent, because I always said that was how to stay over.

Thesz came out and they introduced the man and there was nothing hurried about him. He didn’t get in the ring in a hurry. He would get in the ring, the referee would check the bottom of his shoes for tacks or whatever they had back then … he’d check him all over … and then Lou took the belt off and the referee held it up. Wow, man, this guy was unbelievable. Not knowing he couldn’t work a lick—well, he could work, but it was not like what we call working today … he was very old school, very old school … that was old times, though—he was great!

Seeing Thesz and the way he carried and presented himself was why in the later years I said that Jack Brisco never knew how he guided my career. I looked up to Jack. I never told him this, but I’m telling him now as I write. I’m saying he was the one guy I respected more than anybody else. Not as a shooter, but from watching him. I learned so much from just watching him … and he would be what you call just pretty bland by today’s standards. You would ask, “How flamboyant is this Jack Brisco?”

Jack was the new era to me.

I was selling out these buildings with Jack and I couldn’t get out of the car, the paparazzi would follow me everywhere I’d go. He helped make Dusty Rhodes the American Dream, and I’ll get into that in a little bit. In the meantime, whether it was 30 minutes, 20 minutes, or whatever he would have, he would have a cigarette in his hand, have immaculate shoes just like Lou Thesz wore, and he would put on the Avis Rent-a-Car jacket—the little red and white one he usually wore—or if he didn’t wear the jacket that night, he would just do two deep knee bends, take a puff of the cigarette, and be ready to go.

I would say, “Wow, man, shit…” He never knew I watched him so closely on how to present himself, but to me Jack was like Lou, and when I wrestled Lou, it was strange, because I was in there with him; in the ring with my idol.

I think it’s important to know that when I stepped into the ring with Lou for the first time, it wasn’t the American Dream stepping into the ring with him, but rather it was a very young, still sowing his oats, “Dirty” Dusty Rhodes … and I think it’s important to understand the setup that allowed me to be in the ring with Thesz in the first place, because it came off a very hot angle.

I had literally just started, having the match with Reggie Parks, and Gary Hart was the hottest manager in Texas. He managed the Spoiler, who was Don Jardine, the Super Spoiler, and others. Gary was from Chicago and loved his wine. I called him “the wino from Chicago,” and we had a great run later on as one of the greatest feuds of all time with me against Gary Hart’s Army.

So I walked into the old Dallas Sportatorium for the first time and that place was hot—it was a hot territory doing great business—and there was Gary, like in
The Godfather
giving counsel to the Kentuckian, Grizzly Smith. Grizzly, or “Pops “as we called him, was over. He had been there five weeks and had beaten everybody within 40 seconds.

They did a little TV like they do nowadays, like at
Wildside
and other places, and there was a monitor on Fritz von Erich’s desk.

Anyway, Fritz had never met me before, and I had just come out of Hartford with the Continental Football League. I was ripped pretty good and I looked good at about 245 pounds and I was going up against Grizzly Smith to help build up this angle with him against the Spoiler— a big fucking angle—so he beat everybody’s ass, and there I was and they didn’t know me from shit.

“Bulldog” Danny Plechas was the referee. So they introduced “Dirty” Dusty Rhodes—that was my deal, “Dirty” Dusty Rhodes, Joe Blanchard would make me “The Austin, Texas, Wildman”—and I started walking down that aisle. Now, being as charismatic as I am—and it carries over to the fans—instantly as I was walking down that aisle to do my 30 seconds against Grizzly or try to go longer, the people started booing me for no reason. He was over as a babyface. But I thought, “Jesus Christ, there is no reason in the world they are booing me.” But it was really raw and I stopped, and that’s where I developed that great knack that I got from Johnny Valentine—and also where the Dusty spirit comes in—turning to all sorts of people and having the ability to make them yell, scream, or do whatever I want.

I would take another step in order to look at the people, so if they were booing, I would just stop and look and they would boo louder, and I realized that was the way to turn them up and down.

Charismatically I have that eye contact you need with the people and I knew it … and I didn’t know what I was doing. I knew Fritz was back there watching. I can picture him sitting back there with his Pall Mall cigarettes in his hand—he’d smoke a pack or a carton every minute—I get mad visualizing him sitting at his desk. I never crossed anyone who was more over with a hall like he said he was, and made you believe it.

Now I knew he was watching, and I got in the ring and the people were going crazy. The crowd was good and hot, and back then they had these screens so it was physically hot, and man, the atmosphere was great. So the bell rang and I went in and locked up with Tiny, and he took me and just threw me like a piece of rag and shot me off into the corner.

I was preparing myself for the son of a bitch to bear hug me … 45 seconds, grab a Lone Star beer, and I’d be out of here, buddy. I locked up again and nothing was said, and he took me and threw me again. So he threw me off again and picked me up, threw me in, threw me off the ropes, I hit the ropes, I came off, and he gave me a big foot. I said, “Fucker,” it was a big shit deal. He nearly knocked my nose off.

He picked me up. The crowd was loud, and I hadn’t touched this motherfucker except for getting my ass kicked. The crowd was screaming so loud, booing, I couldn’t hear, and I looked at ringside and there was Gary Hart, the manager of all managers, coming down.

Gary was standing there at ringside screaming at me. “Hey kid, come here. Come here. Come here.” Screaming … and finally the spoken word for somebody who never heard it in the ring was spoken.

Pop said, “Go see what he wants.” With that, Grizzly shoved me off and I took a big rolling bump, rolled off the ring onto the floor.

People could scream louder because of my association with him. Gary said, “Fritz is watching the monitor—he fucking loves you. I don’t know what it is, but go back in there and lock up and tell Grizzly …” Now he was telling me this and I’d never spoken in a ring in my life, “…tell Grizzly…” who I respected and thought he’d kill me any second, “…to keep going and you come back out here in about 20 seconds.”

So I rolled in and the action was going on and he was throwing me around and he had me in a headlock, backing me in a corner and I was trying to say, “Mr. Smith … Mr. Smith … Mr. Smith … we have to keep going.”

He said, “You don’t have to tell me, I know what’s going on …” and he shoved me into ropes and I rolled out.

Gary said to me, “Tell him to put you in a bear hug … he bear hugs you by the ropes, I’m going to reach through and trip him with you in the bear hug on top of him … and Danny’s going to count one, two, three and you’re gonna win.”

We were outside and the people were screaming, and I said to Gary, and this is the truth, “You fucking go tell him that.”

He knew … Pops knew … I rolled in, Pops threw me into the rope and put me in a bear hug. He was bear hugging, people were going crazy, and he’d been killing people for six weeks like this and he had a death grip on my ass. Then I felt him go out from under me, and bam, I felt myself go on top of him.

As Danny counted one, two, as he went on to three, I said, “No, no, no, no” … to the referee. I was saying this and he never let the bell go. So Danny was laying there and he counted one, two, three; Gary jumped in the ring and raised my hand.

God dang!

That’s why Pops, to this day what he did for me … anything that I ever did for him couldn’t even pay him back.

The crowd was throwing cups and beer and shit, and I’m saying, “Wow, man, this is great.”

“I said to Danny [Plechas], I’m not going to beat this kid. He asked me, ‘You see what I see, don’t you?’ I said, ‘I sure do!’ There was more there than just getting a win over Dusty. I didn’t need to beat him. We went about seven or eight minutes. It was like an electric current was going through him and I could feel him. Watching him and watching the crowd, I knew he had something. I knew he’d make it.”

—G
RIZZLY
S
MITH

So I went to the back where Fritz was sitting, and sitting there he always had the claw intact. Fritz always had it up in the air in case you got close, he would put the motherfucking claw on you. He never relaxed. A pencil was never in his hand. He had the claw stationed right over his head. As I walked in, it looked like he was throwing a baseball at me, and when he talked, he talked with the claw. Fritz talked with the claw—he asked, “What’s your name?” He didn’t even know my name!

Danny came in and said, “This kid’s got it. Man, he’s got it.”

“I first met Dusty in Ft. Worth and I saw a sparkle in him. He was sitting in a corner with a pair of granny glasses on reading a book of poetry. But he had that look. The look was important. He had it. He had it so much you had to not look, not to see it. I saw in Dusty this common guy that could electrify people. That first night with Grizzly, I found out what they originally planned to do and because I had his ear, I told Fritz my feelings on Dusty, to give him an opportunity. I’m proud I saw it in him. I don’t know if he was aware that I lobbied for him.”

—G
ARY
H
ART

I believe Joe Blanchard planned it. I know that they talked, and I know that it just wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. They knew exactly what they were doing, because the very next week I was on the double main event, my second match in the history of the fucking business down in Dallas. In the second match I was in the main event against Grizzly and he just slaughtered me in 15 seconds with the bear hug. I was done.

But that set it up for the deal with Thesz and I didn’t even know.

I got my booking and I was driving into town, and I nearly shit a blue goose. The marquee said the Spoiler #1 managed by Gary Hart with “Dirty” Dusty Rhodes versus Duke Keomuka and Lou Thesz.

I said, “Whoaaaaa, fuuuuccck. …”

Thesz had a habit that everybody he didn’t like he would not only stretch them, but he would slap the shit out of them. He would back you into the ropes, he would cuff you, he would slap the shit out of you. If you were a rookie, he would slap the shit out of you.

At about this time, I don’t know shit, but I’m sitting there thinking, man, God. …

Gary and Spoiler and I went into the ring to this thunderous roar. Here came Duke Keomuka. Why he was a babyface, I’ll never know. Duke was out there in his Japanese stuff and there came Lou Thesz behind him… not with him, behind him.

Spoiler said they were in an angle that I knew nothing about, so he said, “I’ll stay in the ring and I’ll tag you. Just go ahead and do whatever you want to do until you get tired of it. Gary will tell you, you know what’s going on from there. Okay?”

About a minute into the match, I came into the ring with Lou. I said, buddy, I don’t know. I said in my mind—and your mind is going like a thousand miles a minute—this is my fucking hero standing here. I saw Duke on the apron and I saw everything in slow motion. The whole world so slow. …

I had a pretty good lock up, and when we locked up, it was stiff and like bam, he just tied me right into the ropes and I knew there wasn’t a thing I could do. He backed me in the ropes and he just reared back to slap me. I was thinking this was a setup, so he reared back to slap me and Plechas, the referee, grabbed his hand and released me. I scrambled like a mother and I tagged Spoiler, and the rest of the night I never touched him.

I got in the ring with Duke and everything, but I never touched Thesz, and I think he would always kind of remember that moment because when I got dressed with him in a lot of different dressing rooms as I was gaining my rise, he always had a kind of smirk on his face.