This is a wrestling book like no other. It’s also one of the most undersung titles around. It’s a format few would have expected to see from Heenan: a self-help manual. Rather than the usual wishy-washy new age content you’d normally see in such books, this is effectively a series of serious points for living a successful live used as pegs for genuinely hilarious stories from Heenan’s career. Unlike with his autobiography, there’s no attempt to follow any structure here and the book works all the better for it. It’s particularly effective as, in between the humour, Heenan uses the opportunity to share some valid gripes, such as being underpaid in a manager role, in a way that doesn’t come across as bitter or whiny. He’s also extremely self-aware in the book, never afraid to acknowledge the sheer absurdity of the professional wrestling business but never shy of admitting his love for it. Heenan also addresses his battles with cancer, something that might seem hard to fit to his lighthearted style, but it’s genuinely uplifting without being sentimental. Buy on Amazon
American wrestling as most Brits know it arguably began on 23 January 1984 when Hulk Hogan beat the Iron Sheik at Madison Square Garden to capture the WWF title and kick off the national expansion era. But New York wrestling has a rich heritage, explored in this book which appropriately enough ends on that very day. Capitol Revolution begins its tale just after the first world war when the likes of Jack Curley and Tex Rickard battled to revive wrestling after the departure of former national stars Frank Gotch and George Hackenschmidt. It then goes on to tell the complex tale of double-crosses and alliances in the 1920s and 30s when wrestling switched from a faithful simulation of amateur grappling to a wilder performance that would still be recognisable as pro wrestling today. It also addresses the multi-generational influence of Toots Mondt and the rise of the McMahon family to dominance in New York, along with its often terse relationship with the National Wrestling Alliance. Finally we get details of Vince McMahon’s transition from local promoter and TV commentator to company owner. Hornbaker’s research skills and dedicated cannot be questioned, which was demonstrated in his previous volume on the NWA’s…
The niche of people crying out for a Chavo Guerrero comic book is presumably quite small, but this should certainly satisfy their needs. The first in a planned series, referred to in publicity as Warriors Creed, this is very much a taster with little storyline development. All we really discover in the 24 page debut instalment is that Guerrero retires through injury but is pursued by mysterious powers seeking to capture a particular ability he has. One unusual element is that in the storyline pro wrestling is a worked entertainment event, meaning that this and future instalments will not be drawing drama from Guerrero’s attempts to win matches. Artwise, I’m no expert, but there’s a distinct theme of large blocks of single colours, giving an effect similar to A Scanner Darkly (but without the photorealism.) It’s also very much comic book/graphic novel style in that this Chavo appears as if he most certainly would not pass a wellness test. It’s a curious choice of subject as Chavo doesn’t have the masked persona traditionally associated with Mexican wrestling superheroes and his current Lucha Underground character is an unlikely hero. While there’s nothing wrong with this as such, there’s also too little to tell whether…
Well regarded in its own right as a children’s book, this will particularly appeal to wrestling families. It’s the first in a series of books set in the same street, though the only one dealing with wrestling. It was picked as book of the month by British TV channel CBBC and is listed as being aimed at 9-11 year olds, though I’d suspect it would be suitable for a wider range. It tells the story of a father who secretly wrestles on a low-level British circuit at weekends accompanied by his son, who then enters him in a competition to find a new wrestler for WOW, a thinly disguised WWE. At 200+ pages the story has a fair bit of depth for a young child’s book and goes into some sophisticated themes about body image, identity and self-worth. It’s also quite on the money when it comes to the wrestling element, celebrating its bombastic nature. While on the face of it it treats wrestling as a legitimate contest, I found it still made sense if you chose to imagine that in this world wrestling is a work but the father kept that secret from the son. Special mention must go…
Back when wrestling books were few and far between, this was one of the titles that was worth tracking down through bookshop ordering systems. Even today, it’s still a remarkable insight into a particular aspect and era of the business. Freedman is an anthropologist who taught at the University of Western Ontario for 26 years, during which time he wrote Drawing Heat. It’s a study of wrestling in Ontario, partly of the main NWA territory operated by Frank Tunney, but mainly of the outlaw promotion run by Dave ‘The Bearman’ McKigney. McKigney was not strictly an opposition promoter, but rather somebody who promoted the small towns where nobody else wanted to go. He allowed Freeman to accompany him on the road, including for an entire tour, allowing Freeman to document the bizarre world of pro wrestling from an outsider perspective. It’s a cast including midgets, the Sheik and a wrestling bear among others. The book goes into immense detail about the practicalities of a smaller promoter trying to make ends meet, deal with an athletic commission, and and rouse up publicity through whatever means necessary. In some ways it’s very much of its time, capturing the tail end of the…
It’s perhaps unfair to compare this to what might of been, but sadly this isn’t as good as you might imagine. Rhodes’s death in 2015 led to many reflecting on his stardom and career and how it far outweighed the lowpoints when he overpromoted himself in the dying days of the Crockett territory. He lived a hell of a life, but this book doesn’t really capture it. The upside of NWA promoter Howard Brody ghostwriting the book is that the factual details of the wrestling content are generally accurate and credible. However, he appears to have been unwilling or unable to capture Rhodes’s unique voice. While that may have been a task beyond any writer — and wouldn’t necessarily have made for a coherent read — there’s a definite disconnect because it’s hard to imagine Rhodes speaking the words out loud as he tells his story. The other main limitation was also perhaps inevitable, with Rhodes straddling the line between confidence and ego: in this book, nothing ever bad happened that was his fault and he even argues Crockett was mistaken to sell the territory in 1988 and that he could have turned things around. The book has an unusual format,…
This book is a real two-for-one deal: a great story, and a fun game as a bonus. The great story comes from Barrett having a true globetrotter career: as well as several US territories including the WWWF, he worked in the UK, continental Europe, Australia, New Zealand and the Pacific Islands. He covers his various exploits in the ring along with plenty of colour about experiencing different locales. The book doesn’t outright talk about wrestling being worked, but there’s enough detail for those who read between the lines that you shouldn’t find your intelligence insulted. The fun game comes from the fact that while Barrett uses many real names, he also changes the names of people at the centre of controversies. It’s a curious approach to defamation laws, but it’s entertaining to try to decipher who he is talking about — though not always that challenging. For example: “Flamboyant” promoter Tim Bernard = Jim Barnett Nashville promoter Gulus the Greek = Nick Gulas Masked man Gregory Nielson = Gordon Nelson Blind wrestler Morris Shapiro = Mighty Atlas Jake West = Jay York The Indian = Wahoo MacDaniel Ron Peters = Ken Patera Prankster Joey Hart = Johnny Valentine Andrew Lane =…
Between the wrestling book boom sparked a decade ago by Mick Foley and the growth of the e-reader making self-published titles ever more viable, numerous wrestling “novels” have appeared in recent years. Sadly most have been badly written and poorly researched, the worst examples being little more than poorly hidden sexual fantasies about real-life wrestling performers. That run has come to an end with Blood Red Turns Dollar Green, the first truly professional novel about professional wrestling. While this is Paul O’Brien’s first book, he has years of experience writing for the theatre and it shows here. The plot and feel of the book lies somewhere between the wrestling territories of the 1970s and a Soprano’s-style mafia tale. It covers a four-year period during which rival promoters across the US work together while also battling to control the booking rights to the world title and in turn the business itself. While both the plotting and storytelling are top-notch, the most impressive skill here is using recognisable traits from real wrestling promotions, owners and grapplers to produce engaging and believable characters, without simply turning it into a thinly-veiled ripoff. Lead characters like New York promoter Danno Garland and behemoth title contender…
Whether you find this book worthwhile depends on your interest in female wrestling history and your attitude to books that maintain kayfabe. As a historical recollection, it’s got a lot to offer. In terms of first-hand accounts, Banner is arguably the biggest name female of her era who wasn’t part of the Fabulous Moolah troupe, so makes for an interesting counter perspective It’s as much a life story as a wrestling book — there’s some fun accounts of Banner’s romantic liasions with Elvis Presley and some understandably less pleasurable accounts of her tumultuous marriage to a man she curiously refers to as Johnny Spade. It’s not clear if this was an attempt to avoid hurt feelings or legal issues, but her husband was in fact the relatively well-known wrestler Johnny Weaver. The kayfabe element of the book goes beyond the understandable desire of a wrestler of Banner’s era wanting to protect the business. While claiming her bouts were all legitimate, she dismisses modern female grappler as fakers and even suggests she was surprised to recently discover that men had been working finishes during her career. It’s a shame as it’s not only insulting, but also undermines credibility. The book is well-illustrated, though it’s made…
Part of a series that covers everything from Anti-Semitism to UFOs, this is designed to be a research tool and study guide for social studies students. It’s an anthology, which brings the benefit that you get a slightly wider range of viewpoints than usual in such books (including entertainment and sports writers alongside professors) but the drawback that some pieces are extremely short and have little substance. Most of the topics here that aren’t part of the usual academic coverage of pro wrestling are both brief and blindingly obvious to any wrestling fan: in short, promoters have power over whether wrestlers are featured, wrestling at the turn of the century had some violent and sexual content, and backyard wrestling isn’t safe. The more traditional topics don’t bring much to the table either. One essay is based around the idea of pro wrestling being an anti-sport and a terrible moral example for kids because rulebreakers prevail: while it’s true that wrestling is based on a very child-unfriendly premise (disputes should be settled by violence), heroic babyfaces overcoming the odds with skill and effort rather than shortcuts is still, in theory, the basis of the business. Another essay tries to make the…