Media Man Australia has learned that CryptoLogic will be releasing an Andre The Giant online slot game. More details as they come to hand.
Media Man Australia Profiles
Slots
Andre The Giant
New Games
Casino News
Wrestling Media Blog. Pro wrestling blog. WWE, WCW, WCW in Australia, ECW, NWA, interviews, promotions, news and more.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
WWWA honors Bruno Sammartino, and vice versa, by Lou Rabito - Philly.com - 6th November 2008
He sold out Madison Square Garden, the Spectrum, and other arenas in his career, but when Bruno Sammartino accepts a wrestling Hall of Fame induction tomorrow for what he says might be the first time, the ceremony won't take place in one of those hallowed halls of headlocks.
Rather, it will be held at Marjeane Caterers in Lansdale, where the only high school in the borough doesn't even have a wrestling program.
It's all because pro wrestling's evolution into a showcase for scantily dressed women and ribald entertainment - and its history of drug-related deaths - turned one of its greatest champions into, for years, a Hall of Fame don't-wannabe.
"I've rejected just about every wrestling Hall of Fame that has tried to induct me," Sammartino said.
But an invitation from Dino Sanna, owner of the Montgomery County-based World Wide Wrestling Alliance, changed his mind, and tomorrow night at 7 he will become the first wrestler immortalized by the minor-league WWWA.
Sanna, who lives in Hatfield, has been Sammartino's friend for more than 25 years. Sammartino has advised him on running the organization and has appeared at shows.
Sammartino, 73, who has lived in the Pittsburgh suburb of North Hills since he emigrated from Italy in 1950, was champion of the World Wide Wrestling Federation - forerunner of the World Wrestling Federation and today's World Wrestling Entertainment - from 1963-71 and from 1973-77. These days, the scripted championships rarely last even a year.
The differences between the eras, though, go far beyond that.
In Sammartino's G-rated heyday, the male wrestlers were brawny and the female wrestlers looked like, well, wrestlers. These days, in the Vince McMahon-led WWE, the men tend to resemble bodybuilders and the women exotic dancers, and some engage in story lines that push even R-rated limits.
Also, substance abuse has increased. At least 65 pro wrestlers younger than 50 have died in the last decade, and the cause of death was consistent with steroid use in more than half the cases, the Orlando Sentinel reported this year.
"As a guy who wrestled for many, many years, it's very bothersome to me what I've seen," Sammartino said. "That's why I won't have anything to do with wrestling anymore, as far as the major leagues, because of what they've brought it down to - to the gutter, as far as I'm concerned."
The Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame in Amsterdam, N.Y., targeted Sammartino as part of its initial, 13-member class in 2002. He refused to take part, he said, because a couple of the organizers had "lied" to him. (In a display of brass-knuckles bravado, the hall inducted him anyway.)
Sammartino declined to elaborate on the lie, but the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reported that the dispute was over McMahon's involvement with the New York organization.
Two years later, the WWE revived its hall, which had not inducted anyone since the mid-1990s. "I wasn't considered the first year," Sammartino said, "but I think they got a pretty good backlash from it from the fans. . . . I don't think they expected that kind of reaction." He said McMahon's attorney had contacted his, and then him directly, "and, of course, I wouldn't have anything to do with it each time."
This time is different. Sanna sought Sammartino's advice before starting the WWWA in the early 1980s. Sammartino preached old-school, and Sanna listened. The WWWA touts its "family friendly" wrestling.
"I've taken his advice from the very first day, and we're still around," Sanna said.
(Credit: Philly.com)
Media Man Australia Profiles
Bruno Sammartino
Rather, it will be held at Marjeane Caterers in Lansdale, where the only high school in the borough doesn't even have a wrestling program.
It's all because pro wrestling's evolution into a showcase for scantily dressed women and ribald entertainment - and its history of drug-related deaths - turned one of its greatest champions into, for years, a Hall of Fame don't-wannabe.
"I've rejected just about every wrestling Hall of Fame that has tried to induct me," Sammartino said.
But an invitation from Dino Sanna, owner of the Montgomery County-based World Wide Wrestling Alliance, changed his mind, and tomorrow night at 7 he will become the first wrestler immortalized by the minor-league WWWA.
Sanna, who lives in Hatfield, has been Sammartino's friend for more than 25 years. Sammartino has advised him on running the organization and has appeared at shows.
Sammartino, 73, who has lived in the Pittsburgh suburb of North Hills since he emigrated from Italy in 1950, was champion of the World Wide Wrestling Federation - forerunner of the World Wrestling Federation and today's World Wrestling Entertainment - from 1963-71 and from 1973-77. These days, the scripted championships rarely last even a year.
The differences between the eras, though, go far beyond that.
In Sammartino's G-rated heyday, the male wrestlers were brawny and the female wrestlers looked like, well, wrestlers. These days, in the Vince McMahon-led WWE, the men tend to resemble bodybuilders and the women exotic dancers, and some engage in story lines that push even R-rated limits.
Also, substance abuse has increased. At least 65 pro wrestlers younger than 50 have died in the last decade, and the cause of death was consistent with steroid use in more than half the cases, the Orlando Sentinel reported this year.
"As a guy who wrestled for many, many years, it's very bothersome to me what I've seen," Sammartino said. "That's why I won't have anything to do with wrestling anymore, as far as the major leagues, because of what they've brought it down to - to the gutter, as far as I'm concerned."
The Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame in Amsterdam, N.Y., targeted Sammartino as part of its initial, 13-member class in 2002. He refused to take part, he said, because a couple of the organizers had "lied" to him. (In a display of brass-knuckles bravado, the hall inducted him anyway.)
Sammartino declined to elaborate on the lie, but the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reported that the dispute was over McMahon's involvement with the New York organization.
Two years later, the WWE revived its hall, which had not inducted anyone since the mid-1990s. "I wasn't considered the first year," Sammartino said, "but I think they got a pretty good backlash from it from the fans. . . . I don't think they expected that kind of reaction." He said McMahon's attorney had contacted his, and then him directly, "and, of course, I wouldn't have anything to do with it each time."
This time is different. Sanna sought Sammartino's advice before starting the WWWA in the early 1980s. Sammartino preached old-school, and Sanna listened. The WWWA touts its "family friendly" wrestling.
"I've taken his advice from the very first day, and we're still around," Sanna said.
(Credit: Philly.com)
Media Man Australia Profiles
Bruno Sammartino
Sunday, November 09, 2008
The Wrestler, by Todd McCarthy - Variety - 4th September 2008
A Wild Bunch (France) presentation of a Protozoa Pictures (U.S.) production. (International sales: Wild Bunch, Paris.) Produced by Scott Franklin, Darren Aronofsky. Executive producers, Vincent Maraval, Agnes Mentre, Jennifer Roth. Co-producer, Mark Heyman. Directed by Darren Aronofsky. Screenplay, Robert Siegel.
Randy "the Ram" Robinson - Mickey Rourke
Cassidy/Pam - Marisa Tomei
Stephanie - Evan Rachel Wood
Talk about comebacks. After many years in the wilderness and being considered MIA professionally, Mickey Rourke, just like the washed-up character he plays, attempts a return to the big show in "The Wrestler." Not only does he pull it off, but Rourke creates a galvanizing, humorous, deeply moving portrait that instantly takes its place among the great, iconic screen performances. An elemental story simply and brilliantly told, Darren Aronofsky's fourth feature is a winner from every possible angle, although it will require deft handling by a smart distributor to overcome public preconceptions about Rourke, the subject matter and the nature of the film.
Co-produced by Wild Bunch in France, where Rourke has retained his most loyal following through thick and thin, this is nonetheless an American picture through and through, beginning with the way it strongly evokes the gritty working-class atmosphere of numerous '70s dramas. Spare but vital, and with the increasingly arty mannerisms of Aronofsky's previous work completely stripped away, the film has the clarity and simplicity of a great Hemingway short story -- there's nothing extraneous, the characters must face up to their limited options in life, and the dialogue in Robert Siegel's superior script is inflected with the poetry of the everyday.
All the same, for the first few minutes one could be excused for imagining the film was directed by Belgium's Dardenne brothers, as ace lenser Maryse Alberti's camera relentlessly follows around aging wrestler Randy "the Ram" Robinson (Rourke) from the back, concentrating on his long, dyed-blond hair and hulking body before fully revealing his mottled, puffy face. This guy is 20 years past his prime, but he's still in pretty good shape and aims to get back on top on the pro wrestling circuit.
Ram seems to have always been a big fan favorite -- he is one of their own, a fearless bruiser the white working stiffs can root for against the assorted freaks, ethnic interlopers and outright villains in this macho cartoon universe. A beguiling early scene that firmly sets the movie on its tracks shows an event's muscled participants, all warmly easygoing and chummy with one another, pairing up and discussing what moves they'll make in their matches. A similar later scene has one of the wrestlers offering Ram his choices from a laundry list of dubious-sounding pharmaceuticals.
Apart from the momentary camaraderie of his ringmates, however, Ram is alone in life. At the outset, he's also penniless, locked out of his dismal trailer home until he can pay up. He works occasionally, lugging cartons at a big-box store, and his tough-guy posture is adored by small kids, but he's got no friends and nothing to show for his strenuous efforts.
From time to time, he has a drink at a gentlemen's club, where he visits aging stripper Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), whose days of using her body for her livelihood are similarly numbered. After getting a load of some of Ram's battle scars, Cassidy, whose real name is Pam, tells him he ought to see "The Passion of the Christ." "They threw everything at him," she says, to which Ram guesses Jesus must have been a "tough dude." Ram must confront his mortality after the film's second wrestling match, a bout so gruesome and barbarous it will force some people to look away.
Assessing his options while recovering, Ram decides to gently step up his relationship with Pam, as well as to try to reconnect with his daughter, Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), whom he hasn't seen in years. Both women have good reasons not to allow such a damaged man into their intimate lives, but even their most tentative signals of openness give Ram reason to hope for a new chapter in his life. His encounters with them are sensitively written and acted with impressive insight and delicacy, and Ram has one monologue in which he lays his feelings bare to Stephanie at a deserted old Jersey boardwalk -- "I deserve to be alone," he admits -- that is so great, one wishes it were longer.
After a stint at a deli counter that is the source of more good character humor, Ram decides to unretire and fight in a 20th-anniversary rematch of one of his most legendary bouts, "Ram vs. Ayatollah." Despite the hoopla, the way it all plays out is as far from "Rocky Balboa" as one could get, resulting in a climax that is exhilarating, funny and moving.
Shot in rough-and-ready handheld style, pic atmospherically reeks of low-rent lodgings, clubs, American Legion halls, shops and makeshift dressing rooms on the Eastern seaboard in winter (it locationed in New Jersey and Philadelphia). Stylistically, it's agile, alert and most interested in what's going on in the characters' faces.
And that is a lot. Physically imposing at 57, with a face that bespeaks untold battering and alteration, Rourke is simply staggering as Ram. The camera is rarely off him, and one doesn't want it to be, so entirely does he express the full life of this man with his every word and gesture. Ram's life has been dominated by pain in all its forms, but he's also devoted it to the one thing he loves and excels at, so he asks for no sympathy; he may have regrets, but no complaints.
As vibrant -- and as naked -- as she was in last year's "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead," Tomei is in top, emotionally forthright form as she charts a life passage similar to Ram's, if much less extreme. Once her character stops stonewalling her father and hears him out, Wood provides a fine foil for Rourke in their turbulent scenes together. The many supporting thesps, especially the wrestling world habitues, are richly amusing and salt-of-the-earth.
Camera (Technicolor, widescreen), Maryse Alberti; editor, Andrew Weisblum; music, Clint Mansell; music supervisors, Jim Black, Gabe Hilfer; production designer, Timothy Grimes; art director, Matthew Munn; set decorator, Theo Sena; costume designer, Amy Westcott; sound (Dolby Digital), Ken Ishii; assistant director, Richard Graves; casting, Mary Vernieu, Suzanne Smith-Crowley. Reviewed at CAA screening room, Los Angeles, Sept. 2, 2008.(In Venice Film Festival -- competing; Toronto Film Festival -- Gala Premieres; New York Film Festival -- closer.) Running time: 109 MIN.
(Credit: Variety)
Media Man Australia Profiles
Wrestling
Randy "the Ram" Robinson - Mickey Rourke
Cassidy/Pam - Marisa Tomei
Stephanie - Evan Rachel Wood
Talk about comebacks. After many years in the wilderness and being considered MIA professionally, Mickey Rourke, just like the washed-up character he plays, attempts a return to the big show in "The Wrestler." Not only does he pull it off, but Rourke creates a galvanizing, humorous, deeply moving portrait that instantly takes its place among the great, iconic screen performances. An elemental story simply and brilliantly told, Darren Aronofsky's fourth feature is a winner from every possible angle, although it will require deft handling by a smart distributor to overcome public preconceptions about Rourke, the subject matter and the nature of the film.
Co-produced by Wild Bunch in France, where Rourke has retained his most loyal following through thick and thin, this is nonetheless an American picture through and through, beginning with the way it strongly evokes the gritty working-class atmosphere of numerous '70s dramas. Spare but vital, and with the increasingly arty mannerisms of Aronofsky's previous work completely stripped away, the film has the clarity and simplicity of a great Hemingway short story -- there's nothing extraneous, the characters must face up to their limited options in life, and the dialogue in Robert Siegel's superior script is inflected with the poetry of the everyday.
All the same, for the first few minutes one could be excused for imagining the film was directed by Belgium's Dardenne brothers, as ace lenser Maryse Alberti's camera relentlessly follows around aging wrestler Randy "the Ram" Robinson (Rourke) from the back, concentrating on his long, dyed-blond hair and hulking body before fully revealing his mottled, puffy face. This guy is 20 years past his prime, but he's still in pretty good shape and aims to get back on top on the pro wrestling circuit.
Ram seems to have always been a big fan favorite -- he is one of their own, a fearless bruiser the white working stiffs can root for against the assorted freaks, ethnic interlopers and outright villains in this macho cartoon universe. A beguiling early scene that firmly sets the movie on its tracks shows an event's muscled participants, all warmly easygoing and chummy with one another, pairing up and discussing what moves they'll make in their matches. A similar later scene has one of the wrestlers offering Ram his choices from a laundry list of dubious-sounding pharmaceuticals.
Apart from the momentary camaraderie of his ringmates, however, Ram is alone in life. At the outset, he's also penniless, locked out of his dismal trailer home until he can pay up. He works occasionally, lugging cartons at a big-box store, and his tough-guy posture is adored by small kids, but he's got no friends and nothing to show for his strenuous efforts.
From time to time, he has a drink at a gentlemen's club, where he visits aging stripper Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), whose days of using her body for her livelihood are similarly numbered. After getting a load of some of Ram's battle scars, Cassidy, whose real name is Pam, tells him he ought to see "The Passion of the Christ." "They threw everything at him," she says, to which Ram guesses Jesus must have been a "tough dude." Ram must confront his mortality after the film's second wrestling match, a bout so gruesome and barbarous it will force some people to look away.
Assessing his options while recovering, Ram decides to gently step up his relationship with Pam, as well as to try to reconnect with his daughter, Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), whom he hasn't seen in years. Both women have good reasons not to allow such a damaged man into their intimate lives, but even their most tentative signals of openness give Ram reason to hope for a new chapter in his life. His encounters with them are sensitively written and acted with impressive insight and delicacy, and Ram has one monologue in which he lays his feelings bare to Stephanie at a deserted old Jersey boardwalk -- "I deserve to be alone," he admits -- that is so great, one wishes it were longer.
After a stint at a deli counter that is the source of more good character humor, Ram decides to unretire and fight in a 20th-anniversary rematch of one of his most legendary bouts, "Ram vs. Ayatollah." Despite the hoopla, the way it all plays out is as far from "Rocky Balboa" as one could get, resulting in a climax that is exhilarating, funny and moving.
Shot in rough-and-ready handheld style, pic atmospherically reeks of low-rent lodgings, clubs, American Legion halls, shops and makeshift dressing rooms on the Eastern seaboard in winter (it locationed in New Jersey and Philadelphia). Stylistically, it's agile, alert and most interested in what's going on in the characters' faces.
And that is a lot. Physically imposing at 57, with a face that bespeaks untold battering and alteration, Rourke is simply staggering as Ram. The camera is rarely off him, and one doesn't want it to be, so entirely does he express the full life of this man with his every word and gesture. Ram's life has been dominated by pain in all its forms, but he's also devoted it to the one thing he loves and excels at, so he asks for no sympathy; he may have regrets, but no complaints.
As vibrant -- and as naked -- as she was in last year's "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead," Tomei is in top, emotionally forthright form as she charts a life passage similar to Ram's, if much less extreme. Once her character stops stonewalling her father and hears him out, Wood provides a fine foil for Rourke in their turbulent scenes together. The many supporting thesps, especially the wrestling world habitues, are richly amusing and salt-of-the-earth.
Camera (Technicolor, widescreen), Maryse Alberti; editor, Andrew Weisblum; music, Clint Mansell; music supervisors, Jim Black, Gabe Hilfer; production designer, Timothy Grimes; art director, Matthew Munn; set decorator, Theo Sena; costume designer, Amy Westcott; sound (Dolby Digital), Ken Ishii; assistant director, Richard Graves; casting, Mary Vernieu, Suzanne Smith-Crowley. Reviewed at CAA screening room, Los Angeles, Sept. 2, 2008.(In Venice Film Festival -- competing; Toronto Film Festival -- Gala Premieres; New York Film Festival -- closer.) Running time: 109 MIN.
(Credit: Variety)
Media Man Australia Profiles
Wrestling
Friday, November 07, 2008
Wrestler will 'beat the hell out of Dicko', by Sean Cusick - NineMSN - 9th November 2008
Ian "Dicko" Dickson is in for a rude shock if he thinks his impending wrestling match with a pro wrestler will be child's play, his opponent has warned.
Melbourne's "King of Hardcore" KrackerJak is eager to get his hands on the Australian Idol judge, after Dickson ridiculed the wrestling industry on his Vega radio show.
"I'm going to do horrible things to him tonight, make no mistakes about it," KrackerJak told ninemsn.
"A lot of people like to have a laugh at wrestling, but not many are brave or stupid enough to jump in the ring and try it for themselves.
"He's going to be in incredible pain tomorrow … it takes years to build up the physical conditioning that you need to crash around the ring and get repeatedly punched in the head."
KrackerJak, 29, has been wrestling for eight years and is known for his brutal style.
While the matches are obviously staged, he has subjected himself to dangerous manoeuvres including being stabbed with scissors and thrown onto thumbtacks.
KrackerJak says the most excruciating pain he has experienced was from a botched spinal tap after suffering a severe concussion.
"Scissors, barb wire, thumbtacks, forks, chairs and tables - you name it, I've hurt someone with it," KrackerJak said.
"I like to get really hardcore on an opponent at times.
"But let's face it, wrestling against some fat guy from the radio, I probably won't need to set him on fire or anything like that."
Dickson has assumed the wrestling moniker "The Guv'nor" and has been training for the past two weeks.
However, despite the chance of injury, the wrestler also known as "The Mad Bastard" claims he has no intentions of treating Dickson with kid gloves.
"I haven't had to sign any legal documents that say I have to go easy on him, which I think is another mistake on his part," KrackerJak said.
"I want to teach him some respect about the industry that I love. He will learn that wrestling really does hurt like hell."
The pair will do battle at around 10pm AEDT tonight at Melbourne's Hi-Fi Bar.
(Credit: NineMSN)
Media Man Australia Profiles
Wrestling
Melbourne's "King of Hardcore" KrackerJak is eager to get his hands on the Australian Idol judge, after Dickson ridiculed the wrestling industry on his Vega radio show.
"I'm going to do horrible things to him tonight, make no mistakes about it," KrackerJak told ninemsn.
"A lot of people like to have a laugh at wrestling, but not many are brave or stupid enough to jump in the ring and try it for themselves.
"He's going to be in incredible pain tomorrow … it takes years to build up the physical conditioning that you need to crash around the ring and get repeatedly punched in the head."
KrackerJak, 29, has been wrestling for eight years and is known for his brutal style.
While the matches are obviously staged, he has subjected himself to dangerous manoeuvres including being stabbed with scissors and thrown onto thumbtacks.
KrackerJak says the most excruciating pain he has experienced was from a botched spinal tap after suffering a severe concussion.
"Scissors, barb wire, thumbtacks, forks, chairs and tables - you name it, I've hurt someone with it," KrackerJak said.
"I like to get really hardcore on an opponent at times.
"But let's face it, wrestling against some fat guy from the radio, I probably won't need to set him on fire or anything like that."
Dickson has assumed the wrestling moniker "The Guv'nor" and has been training for the past two weeks.
However, despite the chance of injury, the wrestler also known as "The Mad Bastard" claims he has no intentions of treating Dickson with kid gloves.
"I haven't had to sign any legal documents that say I have to go easy on him, which I think is another mistake on his part," KrackerJak said.
"I want to teach him some respect about the industry that I love. He will learn that wrestling really does hurt like hell."
The pair will do battle at around 10pm AEDT tonight at Melbourne's Hi-Fi Bar.
(Credit: NineMSN)
Media Man Australia Profiles
Wrestling
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Vale Walter 'Killer" Kowalski - ABC Radio National - 30th October 2008
The golden years of wrestling in Australia were between 1964 and 1978 when World Championship Wrestling was on Channel 9 every weekend. It was a magic time and it had life long consequences....
The legendary professional wrestler, 'Killer' Kowalski, who died aged 81 on 30 August this year, had a big impact on my life.
This came about through an article in TV Week around 1965. It told of how in real life Kowalski was a university graduate, with a deep interest in spirituality and philosophy. I learned from this that a man can be tough and strong and also be an intellectual. This was an important lesson for someone who was into ideas at a young age. It made me feel less marginal and okay about continuing in a scholarly direction.
I first saw him in 1964, when I was thirteen and Channel Nine's 'World Championship Wrestling' program had just started. The televised bouts advertised grudges that we viewers would pay big money to see in full gory glory at venues like Festival Hall and the Sydney Stadium.
I was there, at the old Tin Shed, which was colloquial Melburnian for Festival Hall, when Kowalski took on the likes of the 'Golden Greek' Spiros Arion, the 'Flying French Canadian' Emile Dupre, Domenic De Nucci, Dick Steinborn, Tex McKenzie, Larry O'Dea, Ron Miller and Mario Milano.
The Killer's winning manoeuvre was a submission hold called the claw hold. Kowalski would pummel his opponent, stomp and knee-drop to their mid-section, and then clasp both hands onto the abdominal region, digging in deeper and deeper with his fingers until he was manipulating their intestines. To develop the strength and skill to do this, he trained each day by squeezing tennis balls with his fingers until the balls popped. At any rate, that's how I remember him explaining it to the late great wrestling commentator, Jack Little, one Sunday lunchtime.
Kowalski enthralled me by his physique and strength. He stood at two metres and weighed 127 kilos. There was no flab, and the proportioning of his muscularity was just how my mates and pencil-necked me wanted to be. The problem was Kowalski was one of the bad guys in the ring; a 'heel' to use the lingo of the business. We admired his strength but wanted to see him beaten.
Kowalski was brilliant in tapping into the mass psychology of the audience. He needed no fancy gimmicks or costumes. He struck fear into us with a glance.
In August 1965, I wrote a fan letter to the Killer care of channel 9. The reply came from Nine's Publicity Department. I still have it. It said: "... time does not permit Killer Kowalski to answer any letters. I hope you are not too disappointed... but he did appreciate receiving your letter".
"Not TOO disappointed"!!! Of course I was disappointed, VERY disappointed. And for some reason, I kept the letter, not realizing that three decades later, it would allow my life, momentarily, to intersect with that of the man himself.
In 1996, I came across a report about a wrestling school run by Kowalski in Boston, so I decided to write again - enclosing a copy of the 1965 letter from Nine. I told the Killer how he had helped keep me on a scholarly path in my early teenage years. I also told him that I had become a father and had a two year old son named Joey.
It was an absolute surprise and delight to receive a reply two weeks later. There, in large format, was a stunning photo of Kowalski, in his sixties but still a magnificent specimen. The photo was inscribed in his handwriting with the words: "To Joey and Barry York, two great champions. Best of luck, Killer Kowalski".
The autographed photo is now framed and hangs in my study, where I continue to read, research and write.
Thank you and Vale: Walter 'Killer' Kowalski.
(Credit: ABC Radio National)
Guests
Barry York
Canberra based historian
Further Information
Ron Miller web site
Producer
Sue Clark
Media Man Australia Profiles
Walter 'Killer' Kowalski
The legendary professional wrestler, 'Killer' Kowalski, who died aged 81 on 30 August this year, had a big impact on my life.
This came about through an article in TV Week around 1965. It told of how in real life Kowalski was a university graduate, with a deep interest in spirituality and philosophy. I learned from this that a man can be tough and strong and also be an intellectual. This was an important lesson for someone who was into ideas at a young age. It made me feel less marginal and okay about continuing in a scholarly direction.
I first saw him in 1964, when I was thirteen and Channel Nine's 'World Championship Wrestling' program had just started. The televised bouts advertised grudges that we viewers would pay big money to see in full gory glory at venues like Festival Hall and the Sydney Stadium.
I was there, at the old Tin Shed, which was colloquial Melburnian for Festival Hall, when Kowalski took on the likes of the 'Golden Greek' Spiros Arion, the 'Flying French Canadian' Emile Dupre, Domenic De Nucci, Dick Steinborn, Tex McKenzie, Larry O'Dea, Ron Miller and Mario Milano.
The Killer's winning manoeuvre was a submission hold called the claw hold. Kowalski would pummel his opponent, stomp and knee-drop to their mid-section, and then clasp both hands onto the abdominal region, digging in deeper and deeper with his fingers until he was manipulating their intestines. To develop the strength and skill to do this, he trained each day by squeezing tennis balls with his fingers until the balls popped. At any rate, that's how I remember him explaining it to the late great wrestling commentator, Jack Little, one Sunday lunchtime.
Kowalski enthralled me by his physique and strength. He stood at two metres and weighed 127 kilos. There was no flab, and the proportioning of his muscularity was just how my mates and pencil-necked me wanted to be. The problem was Kowalski was one of the bad guys in the ring; a 'heel' to use the lingo of the business. We admired his strength but wanted to see him beaten.
Kowalski was brilliant in tapping into the mass psychology of the audience. He needed no fancy gimmicks or costumes. He struck fear into us with a glance.
In August 1965, I wrote a fan letter to the Killer care of channel 9. The reply came from Nine's Publicity Department. I still have it. It said: "... time does not permit Killer Kowalski to answer any letters. I hope you are not too disappointed... but he did appreciate receiving your letter".
"Not TOO disappointed"!!! Of course I was disappointed, VERY disappointed. And for some reason, I kept the letter, not realizing that three decades later, it would allow my life, momentarily, to intersect with that of the man himself.
In 1996, I came across a report about a wrestling school run by Kowalski in Boston, so I decided to write again - enclosing a copy of the 1965 letter from Nine. I told the Killer how he had helped keep me on a scholarly path in my early teenage years. I also told him that I had become a father and had a two year old son named Joey.
It was an absolute surprise and delight to receive a reply two weeks later. There, in large format, was a stunning photo of Kowalski, in his sixties but still a magnificent specimen. The photo was inscribed in his handwriting with the words: "To Joey and Barry York, two great champions. Best of luck, Killer Kowalski".
The autographed photo is now framed and hangs in my study, where I continue to read, research and write.
Thank you and Vale: Walter 'Killer' Kowalski.
(Credit: ABC Radio National)
Guests
Barry York
Canberra based historian
Further Information
Ron Miller web site
Producer
Sue Clark
Media Man Australia Profiles
Walter 'Killer' Kowalski
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)