Straight from the Hart Read Online Free PDF Page B

his native Saskatoon several years before, while he was attending university. Whalen, as anyone who ever caught our show can attest, proved to be an excellent fit; in fact, for my money, he was the best wrestling commentator ever — better, even, than Jim Ross, Gordon Solie and Lance Russell, which is saying a lot, because all of those guys were incredible.
    Aside from impeccable timing, a succinct sense of humor and this innate ability to know when to let the action speak for itself, what made Whalen really exceptional was that unlike most other wrestling commentators he wasn’t on the promotion’s payroll and therefore refused to shill or put over anything that didn’t warrant it. That proved to be of great benefit to the promotion because, if something stunk or was lousy, he refused to put it over, and since my dad backed him, implicitly, it forced the wrestlers to shape up, or they’d be shipped out.
    By the same token, if something was done exceptionally well, Whalen could put it over like nobody else. He had a collection of signature sayings, like “malfunction at the junction” when referring to a mistake or screwup, and
    “ring-a-ding-dong-dandy” when referring to an exceptionally good match. His 26
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    sayings would become part of the vernacular in Western Canada, and helped make the show an enormous hit.
    Although our promotion, which was still in the trial and error process, didn’t break box office records or set the wrestling world on its proverbial cauliflowered ear that winter, it did well enough to break even, occasionally even turning a modest profit. This enabled my dad to stave off the creditors and financially get back on his feet.

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    When the territory reopened I began to see the wrestling business in a totally different light. As I mentioned, when I was a kid I thought it was real and took everything at face value. Later on, in my adolescence — like a kid who outgrew Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny — I came to realize that wrestling wasn’t exactly as I’d perceived. But I still allowed myself to indulge in the ostensible realism of the story lines, because, quite simply, wrestling was more fun that way.
    Now, with so much now riding on the success or failure of those story lines, I was far more acutely aware of what worked and what didn’t and as such took a far keener interest in the whys and wherefores of the business. Although wrestling tends to come across as individualistic, I came to realize that it’s really more of a team endeavor — kind of like football — with everyone having defined roles, all of which are integral parts of the ultimate success or failure of the whole group. In football, the head coach devises the game plans, gives them to the team and endeavors to inspire or motivate them to rise to the occasion
    — which is the equivalent, in wrestling, to the booker.
    Beyond that, in most promotions back then, the pivotal figure, or “go-to guy”
    — the equivalent of the quarterback on a football team — was always the top 28
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    ♥ STRAIGHT FROM THE HART ♥
    heel. Almost any territory that enjoyed any kind of success back then invariably had a dominant ass-kicker of a heel on top, usually wearing the belt or “strap,” as they used to call it, in the territory. In that respect, they were much the same as any great football team, none of which attained a level of success if they didn’t have some dynamic performer such as Joe Montana, Tom Brady, Peyton Manning or John Elway leading the charge.
    The main role of the lead heel, of course, was to get heat or make the fans want to see him get his arrogant ass kicked by some hot babyface. The babyfaces, or “faces,” as they’re called these days, would line up to challenge the lead heel
    — much like challengers used to get in line