Lou Thesz
I enjoyed the story in [Whatever Happened to ...?] issue #19 on Lou Thesz. The first time I met Thesz, I was four years old. My mother told me that she saw him in Los Angeles when she was seventeen, and thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was associated with my father (Milo Steinborn) over the years through promotions, being on the same card, and so forth. The next time I ran into him, I was fourteen. When I walked into the living room, my father whispered to me, "Go behind him."
As I went to shake Lou's hand, I arm dragged him trying to go behind him. He was so quick, he lifted me up, set me back down, and smiled. My dad was messing with me.
After seventeen years as a pro, I was booked against Lou Thesz in Texas. I left Houston sitting in the back seat of a car driven by Alberto and Ramon Torres. On the way up to Austin, to a club that was promoted by Leo Garibaldi at the time, Ramon says, "Who are you wrestling?"
I said, "Well, gentleman, after seventeen years of being a pro, and training for this match for the last two weeks" ... which I did ... "I'm going to wrestle Lou Thesz."
"No keeding?", he says.
Then, I see Alberto look over at his brother and I see him punch him. Alberto says, "Hey, Dick. You know, Thesz likes one thing in a match."
I said, "What's that?"
He said, "He likes to be slapped."
I said, "No kidding?"
This is a true story. Well, after seventeen years, I decided to be a mark for them. (laughs) "Oh, yeah? Does he really like that?" and "How do I hit him?"
"Well, anytime you want, just slap the sh-- out of him!"
This went on for about a hundred miles. I get in the dressing room and can see that everybody's whispering ton everybody. I thought, "What entertainment." I go into this dressing room and all these guys are flipping out. Just before I go out to wrestle, Ramon says to me, "Hey, don't forget now. You're going to slap him, huh?"
I get into the ring and look back ... and both dressing rooms are emptied out. I thought, "What can I do?" I always had a way of slapping somebody without hurting them. I wouldn't slap them across the face. I cupped my hand in an oblong cup and kept it tight. When I came down with the slap, I caught them just below the ear and drug it down the neck. The loudness was much more pronounced than being slapped in the face, and the crowd always reacted to it.
When the match started, I came running out of my corner, and Thesz ... not knowing me or my style ... he backed up, which he normally did, brought his left knee up, leaned in the corner and lowered his head outside, underneath the top rope. The referee pushed me back. We repeated the sequence, but I stayed in his corner behind the referee. As Lou brought his head back around, I came over the referee's shoulder with this big slap that you could hear all over the building.
Thesz' reaction was hilarious. I never saw so many goose bumps appear on a man's leg as I did on Thesz' legs. Hundreds of them. I swear they looked like you had plucked feathers out of his leg. Laughing, I pointed to Thesz and shouted to referee Marvin (Jones), "Look, Marvin. He's got goose bumps. He's chicken!"
Thesz leaped at me, laughing hysterically, while he front face-locked me and put the hurt on me for quite a while.
Later in the match, I wound up with Lou in a body scissors, with my legs surrounding him. He's looking at me and I'm looking at him. All of a sudden, and before I realized what he was doing, with this old maneuver that I'd seen years before, he spins his body and turns around. I wind up on my stomach with his right knee hooked behind my left knee. He's sitting on top of me like an amateur in the top position. Marvin Jones gets down in front of me and says, "Are you a queer?"
I said, "What?"
Thesz says, "You heard him," and he leans forward and puts pressure on my knee. I thought my knee was gonna break. Here I am, just the opposite of what Marvin was insinuating, and here comes the question again. Marvin says, "I'll ask you again ... are you a queer?"
I felt the pressure and I screamed at both of them, "Yeeeesssss!"
Lou rolled me over and the match ended.
I was booked seven times in a three week period against that man. Each time, uncontrollably, I found myself with this body scissors on him. Every time, when I realized the position I had put myself in, I hollered at him, "You're gonna play this silly old game again, aren't you?"
Sure enough, he'd make his move ... but I always made sure that I got close to the ropes and hung on for dear life. |
