Pro Wrestling Books

Almost every wrestling fan will find something to identify with this book, which is both its greatest strength and weakness. It’s simply one fan’s account of his time as a fan, from discovering the business to attending live shows to becoming involved in the fringes of the business through the FWA, to rediscovering a love for the British scene as well as attending several WrestleManias. This isn’t the first book of its type and is somewhat reminiscent of Confessions of a Smart Wrestling Fan and the early sections of Spandex Ballet, both of which I’ve reviewed on this site. Both of these had distinctive features, with the former more of a Fever Pitch-style autobiographical tale and the latter filled with humor. This tells it more straight and isn’t so explicitly themed, although the description of how Farrugia connected with his father through wrestling is touching without being clunky. The highlights are undoubtedly the sheer charm of Farrugia’s naivety in his early years as a fan, particularly the way he was introduced to action figures long before he saw a “real” match. The closest thing to a unique selling point here is that for many years Farrugia and his father were…

For an impossible task, this is an impressive effort. Author Brian Solomon is open about the challenges of portraying a wrestler whose dedication to protecting his character alongside the secrets of the business was perhaps greater than any other. It’s possible that a Sheik who survived until the 2020s would have joined The Undertaker and Kendo Nagasaki in finally lifting the lid on his career, but the one who died in 2003 took his secrets to the grave. In a similar way to how Pat Laprade and Bertrand Hebert acknowledged whenever they were uncertain if a story in their biography of Andre the Giant was a tall tale, Solomon is clear when he switches from documented facts to supposition in the absence of first-hand insight. He brings together historical records, archive interviews and contemporary quotes from the Sheik’s younger family members and wrestling associates. This approach certainly does not detract from the story, covering Edward Farhat’s development of the Sheik character and taking over the Detroit territory, his run as arguably the biggest box-office draw in the country, the stunning collapse of the business, and his unlikely career revival in FMW. It’s the type of account where it’s a net…

An engaging, breezy account of two decades in the business, this may still appeal most to the Australian market. Ken Dunlop wrestled throughout the 1980s and 1990s, a period in which the local business remained viable (Dunlop recollects wrestling around 15 times a month though held down a full-time job as well) but suffered in comparison to the glory days of the nationally televised World Championship Wrestling which went off air shortly after his debut. It’s a period fairly covered by Dunlop, who remains proud of his work but does not fall into hyperbole about the size of the crowds or the level of fame he achieved. The first third or so of the book is a more traditional chronological account of his career, with the rest of the chapters covering themes, from the drug scene, to injuries, mental health and crazed crowds. British readers will be particularly taken with the chapter on his 1992 tour with a post-TV era Joint Promotions and Orig Williams. The marketing for the book stresses Dunlop’s experiences as one of the few openly gay wrestlers. Perhaps surprisingly given stereotypes about both Australian macho culture and the wrestling business, particularly in that era, Dunlop was…