ORLANDO, Fla. -- One would-be happy fan was hit twice last Sunday night at WWE's WrestleMania 24; first with a cable that snapped during an accidental fireworks finale gone-wrong, and later with a lawsuit from Vince McMahon of the WWE for sneaking a camera into the event.
Like most stadium-held events, the WWE has had a long-standing policy of preventing bootleggers and faux-film makers from bringing recording devices. Many are forcibly removed at the gated entrance, but a few are able to sneak through past the guards.
This particular fan, whose name was left out of this report due to pending legal action, made his bootlegging attempts known when he sent his recording to various internet video outlets, hoping to document (read: cash in) on the fireworks disaster, that left dozens of people injured. Instead, Vince McMahon, notorious for playing the on-screen villain, slapped the youth with a pre-emptive lawsuit for recording the footage without permission, breaking the agreement listed both on the ticket as well as publically at the venue.
It is now up to the courts to decide whose lawsuit will trump the other. Rumors speculate the battle could take place at April's upcoming Pay-Per-View, Backlash.
whomod said: I generally don't like it when people decide to play by the rules against people who don't play by the rules. It tends to put you immediately at a disadvantage and IMO is a sign of true weakness. This is true both in politics and on the internet."
I'll never forget the first time I saw Ric Flair in early 1978. I was nearly 7 years old and about to take yet another step from casual fan to hardcore mark. Months earlier, I had been living and dying with the drama unfolding in Memphis during the first-ever series of bouts between Jerry "the King" Lawler and "Superstar" Bill Dundee, which featured stipulations that seemed to get crazier with each passing Monday night. That series culminated with not only Dundee getting his head shaved but also his wife, Beverly, losing her hair in the middle of the blood-stained mat at the Mid-South Coliseum. Along with the release of STAR WARS and the death of Elvis Presley, my discovery of Memphis rasslin' is the most vivid of that year of my young life.
I was watching another staple of my childhood, an episode of CHARLIE'S ANGELS, which featured an unsavory character--I believe an ex-grappler--reading a wrestling magazine. I was unaware of the existence of wrestling magazines--apparently I was so hell-bent on getting my grubby hands on the latest Spider-Man, Hulk or Fantastic Four comic book that I never noticed the magazine rack.
I begged my dad to take me to 7-11 to investigate and, sure enough, there was Ric Flair on the cover of the spring 1978 issue of the Best of the Wrestler.
[image:left]http://www.comics101.com/kentuckyfriedrasslin//images/view.php?src=../news/Kentucky%20Fried%20Rasslin/67/bestofwrestler.jpg[/image] Career inspiration: The purchase of this Apter mag in 1978 paved the way for my experiences in the wrestling business and in journalism.
Although over the years I would slowly figure out that most of the Apter mag stories were pure fiction, the headline on that Flair cover story proved to be quite prophetic -- "The Experts Declare: Ric Flair is the Next Champion." Flair may not have been the next World champion, but he did go on to rewrite the record book, capturing, depending on whom you believe, 16, 18--as high more than 21--World titles. I pretty much stopped counting after the seventh (eighth, if you count the New Zealand quickies with Harley Race) title win over Sting in East Rutherford N.Y. -- the first of many times Ric came back to win the gold after seemingly being forced out to make room for the next new superstar in the business.
I became a regular reader of the Apter mags in the '70s and '80s and did my best to follow the storylines taking place around the country. Although I couldn't see Flair wrestle on TV or in person, that made him larger than life to me, especially when I read that he'd won the NWA World title from Dusty Rhodes in Kansas City in 1981.
Equally as memorable as that introduction to Flair via wrestling journalism -- the first time I saw Slick Ric wrestle on TV. When Flair showed up unannounced in the WMC-TV 5 Studio on August 14, 1982, I remember being terribly excited, calling my friends on the telephone and urging them to hurry over.
We huddled around the TV in nervous excitement as Lawler masterfully goaded Flair into an impromptu NWA World title match. Sure, Nick Bockwinkel, the AWA World champ, played the role well and most Memphis fans believed him to be the champion, but we Apter-reading marks knew that the NWA strap was considered the big one by the prestigious wrestling press (cough). Dressed in a perfectly pressed double-breasted, navy-blue blazer and starched white button-down and khakis, Flair almost appeared as if he had steered his yacht down the Mississippi River to arrive in Memphis.
In hindsight, I love how Flair gives the city and announcer Lance Russell repeated backhanded compliments, speaking methodically without a trace of sarcasm as he explained that he'd heard that Memphis was full of nothing but rednecks and he was pleasantly surprised to see otherwise. Ironically enough, Flair was actually born in Memphis, a fact I was stunned to learn years later. Oh, what might have been had Flair grown up in Memphis.
Lawler, riding high after the Andy Kaufman angle earlier in the year, humbly says that he's not in Flair's class and puts the Champ on the spot with a challenge. In one of the best performances of his career -- which is saying a lot -- Russell perfectly plays the role of the small-time announcer. He's almost in awe of Flair's presence, going so far as to comment on the Nature Boy's "stunning watch." I also like how Russell lowers his head when Lawler asks if Flair's scheduled opponent, Rick McCord, has ever won a match. Lance quietly answers, "Well, Jerry ... I don't remember it if he if did."
During the brief bout, I recall my friends and me marking out when Lawler traps Flair in the sleeper hold, with me screaming, "He's got him! He's got him!" It was clear to all of us that Lawler was the better wrestler when Flair ran off to keep his title after one of those devastating fistdrops. (Always funny to me to hear Lawler knock Flair for his chops, when his finishing move was a flying punch off the ropes.)
I was so convinced that an injustice had been done on that day in 1982 that I fired off a letter to Bill Apter proclaiming the King to be the uncrowned World champion. Lawler's apparent good showing, though, was vintage Flair, making the local star appear unbeatable at his own expense. And, in the aftermath, when Flair accuses Lance of being in on the plan to embarrass him, Russell's expression in response is priceless.
Of course, as the years went by, I saw Flair regularly defend his title on Mid-Atlantic Wrestling and World Class Championship Wrestling, which suddenly began appearing on TV prior to Jerry Jarrett's and Lawler's show at 11 a.m. I cheered as he regained the 10 pounds of gold from Harley Race at STARRCADE '83. I cheered when Kerry Von Erich defeated Flair to win the belt for brother David and the entire state of Texas.
In the mid-80s, when I began understanding what the business was all about, Flair supplanted Lawler as my favorite. To my dad, it seemed like I was always watching Ric Flair matches or interviews on our family's big TV.
By the time I was in high school in the mid- to late '80s, nearly every photo with three of my best friends from that era feature each of us displaying the sign of excellence: four fingers that represented the symbol of the Four Horsemen. My friends and I learned all Flair's catchphrases, repeating them to our opponents on the soccer and football fields (which, according to my British wife, are one and the same), and occasionally, even our girlfriends, much to their disgust.
As the cocky goalkeeper for my high-school soccer team, I wore a Ric Flair T-shirt underneath my jersey for every game. One humid April night in 1989, I hastily left my nighttime soccer game, and still wearing my uniform, made it the Coliseum for a rare NWA show at the Coliseum just in time to see Ricky Steamboat defend Big Gold against Flair. The show only drew about 2,000 fans in the 11,364-seat arena, but Flair and Steamboat delivered an amazing bout that was only slightly below their Chi-Town Rumble match in February of that year.
In my high-school graduation book, the section devoted to future goals I want to accomplish reads only: "To win the NWA World title from Ric Flair."
When I broke into the business working for Jarrett and Lawler and eventually turned heel, I patterned myself after the Horsemen, always wearing starched button-downs and ties. One of the best compliments I received early on was from longtime wrestler Buddy Wayne, who rarely put over anybody or anything. (But you could always count on Buddy to tell you what was wrong with the business, which was usually followed by "... and I tell ya, it's killin' us, it's killin' us.") He remarked that the way I dressed on TV made it seem like I was really somebody -- not a wrestling manager trying to look like he's dressed up with loud jackets and buffoonish cheap shirts and slacks. In my mind, I was stylin' and profilin.'
As so many fans and writers have commented these past weeks, wrestling would continue to change over the years, but Flair was the only thing that remained a constant. In some ways, he represented the last of the old-school era for most fans. Almost hard to believe that the two stars of that angle from August 1982 in Memphis were the only big-name territory guys still featured in Vince McMahon's WWE heading into this year's WRESTLEMANIA. Now only Lawler remains, but he's not the same King I grew up with.
Stylin' and profilin': This is the T-shirt I wore Sunday to salute Ric Flair, garnering funny looks from the staff at L.A.'s El Coyote restaurant in the hours before WRESTLEMANIA.
I had that feeling of being a kid again all over again the past Sunday in what might have been the last time I watched Flair in a wrestling match. I had the words "Don't be ashamed of those butterflies" in my head in response to my nervous stomach as I watched Flair walk that aisle in what appeared to be a new robe, trunks and boots.
I popped early when Flair successfully made it off the top rope with a bodypress. I cringed when the bridge spot--which I'd seen Flair do with the likes of Steamboat, Barry Windham and Brad Armstrong so many times in the '80s--didn't quite work out. I almost believed that Flair might pull it off when HBK hesitated and gave Flair the advantage. And my eyes started welling up just a bit when, in a beautiful moment, HBK mouthed the words "I'm sorry. I love you" and closed perhaps the final chapter of the most storied career in the business. HBK kept his word: He gave Flair exactly what he needed to have one last great match. Simply a tremendous performance put together by the Naitch and HBK. The shot of the long walk back to the dressing room for Flair after sharing the moment with his family will always be with me -- it had the feel of Larry Bird's retirement from basketball or, more recently, Brett Farve's retirement from football.
The next night, in a sendoff never before seen for even the biggest of Vince McMahon's creations, Flair, for years the franchise player for the WWF's former promotional rival, was saluted by his peers and his family in touching fashion following Ric's farewell address. Not only did we get Four Horsemen Tully Blanchard, Barry Windham, Arn Anderson, Dean Malenko and J.J. Dillion and former rivals Race, Steamboat and Greg Valentine, but we also got to see guys like HBK, Chris Jericho, Triple H and Edge give thanks to one of their childhood heroes. Big Show appeared to be in tears when he climbed on the ring apron, probably still reeling from Flair's comments at the Hall of Fame that Show could own the business if he had his head screwed on straight. The entire scene was poignant. I was truly touched. My wife leaned over looking for tears on my face Monday night, and I had to look away.
Nearly 30 years to the day I first laid eyes on the Nature Boy on that magazine cover, I was saying goodbye. And thank you.
The demarcations of some historical eras are not as well defined as others.
I can state unequivocally, however, that the greatest era in modern pro wrestling history ended at exactly 8:50 p.m. last Sunday when the sport’s greatest performer, Ric Flair, had his shoulders pinned to the mat for the final time in front of a record crowd of 74,635 fans at Wrestlemania 24 at the Citrus Bowl in Orlando.
It seemed a fitting finish for the 16-time world champion, in the spotlight of such a grand spectacle, going down in a blaze of glory to one of his most respected and trusted friends in the business. Shawn Michaels, like countless others in the profession, had grown up idolizing Flair, who was his inspiration and the reason he became a wrestler. To have his hero’s last match was both bittersweet and the biggest honor of Michaels’ own Hall of Fame-caliber career.
Neither legend disappointed. Their 20-minute classic was near flawless, and the atmosphere was electric. Forget that it was “just” pro wrestling or sports entertainment. The biggest “conventional” sports or entertainment attraction would have been hard-pressed to match the sheer spectacle of this mega-event.
At 59 years of age, Flair did what he’s been doing best for more than three decades. He stole the show.
In a weekend of intense, unadulterated emotion, perhaps nothing was more poignant than when a teary-eyed HBK mouthed, “I’m sorry ... I love you,” moments before delivering his signature “Sweet Chin Music” that felled the greatest performer the industry has ever known.
The best there ever was bid farewell to the fans. And wrestling will never be the same.
Magical ride
It was a little ironic that Ric Flair’s final journey had taken him to Orlando — the home of Disney World — since his entire career has been a magical one. He had enjoyed some of his greatest times right smack dab in the middle of Florida Championship Wrestling country. Over the years he had headlined at the city’s various venues, ranging from the old Eddie Graham Sports Complex to the MGM Studios, to Amway Arena and the Citrus Bowl.
For an entire week the city was the epicenter of the pro wrestling universe. And most were there for one reason — to witness history. Fans from 50 states and more than 20 countries converged on the Citrus Bowl, a proud old stadium that has seen better days, just to say they were there when Ric Flair ended his 35-year career. Not unlike that gracefully aging stadium, Flair had enjoyed his early success in an entirely different generation, decades removed from a business that is now commonly known as “sports entertainment.”
There were few similarities between then and now, but for this one night, there was a constant. And that was “the Nature Boy,” Ric Flair, styling and profiling in front of thousands of fans, some of whom fell in love with him more than 30 years ago, others learning in later years “what the excitement was all about.”
One thing was for certain. The old stadium had certainly never witnessed anything quite like this before.
Emotional weekend
The Wrestlemania 24 match was just part of a weekend of intense emotion that revolved around the end of the most illustrious career in wrestling history.
The night before, Flair had been inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame before a capacity crowd at Amway Arena that hung on to every word of his heart-wrenching, hour-long address, already regarded as the greatest Hall of Fame acceptance speech on record. If there was a drawback to the ceremony, it was that Flair was literally forced to wrap up his speech before he was finished due to TV time constraints.
Not to be outdone, the farewell ceremony on Raw the night after Mania just may have been the greatest moment in pro wrestling television history.
Then again, there’s never been anyone quite like Ric Flair, who could transform any situation from a theater of sometimes absurdity to a feeling that is as real as it gets. When he took a stand 10 years ago against Eric Bischoff at the Bi-Lo Center in Greenville, proclaiming “It was real, damn it,” he meant every word of it.
Until now, that piece of televised wrestling history had been widely regarded as the most emotional in wrestling annals. Monday night’s tribute remarkably surpassed that.
It was a moment in television history that no fan who watched is likely to ever forget. Never in the sport’s history has one of its own received such a sendoff.
For all the negatives hurled at Vince McMahon, he got this one right, and in a big way. Ric’s final week with the company as an active performer couldn’t have been scripted much better. It was a storybook ending to a storybook career. Sure, there could have been a more elaborate storyline leading to the finish line, with another world title on the line. But in lieu of that scenario, the company couldn’t have paid a more heartfelt tribute than they did to Ric.
And while Triple H may occasionally be criticized by some for being “part of the family,” his friendship and loyalty to Ric is genuine and built on mutual respect. Like Shawn, Hunter grew up wanting to be like Flair, and eventually became more than a fan, but an elite-class performer and one of Ric’s staunchest advocates.
He also put things in perspective at the Hall of Fame ceremony when he pointed out that it’s been said a million times that Ric Flair is “arguably” the greatest of all time. He said he’s still waiting to hear the argument.
I’ve covered the business for more than 40 years, and never have I seen the depth of emotion, reverence and respect for any one individual — much less pro wrestler — than was on display all week long. Tears, laughter and long hugs were in abundance, as family, friends, fans and colleagues paid tribute to a man they clearly not only admired— but loved.
Ric Flair “The Man”
Ric Flair, then sporting brown hair and weighing nearly 300 pounds, officially began his wrestling journey in late 1972 in a small Wisconsin town called Rice Lake. It was shortly after he arrived in the Carolinas a couple years later that I would meet the man who would one day be regarded as the greatest of them all.
He already had begun the transformation to the “Nature Boy,” bleaching his hair blond, wearing expensive, sequined robes, and displaying a gift of gab like no other in the business. He was young and cocky, but outside the ring he was polite and respectful. And while the world championship back then was a prize that a select few could ever hope to attain, there was no doubt in my mind that this Flair kid was destined for the gold.
That was more than 30 years ago. And the rest, as they say, is history. I’ve been honored to follow Ric’s career from a unique vantage point and equally proud to call him one of my best friends.
Anyone who knows Ric knows how passionately he feels about the business. There have been times when he’s been down on unfavorable circumstances during his career, but I’ve never, ever heard him express anything but the highest praise for professional wrestling. I can also tell you that in the wrestling business, that is a very, very rare thing. But with Ric, it’s the gospel truth.
Another thing about Naitch — everything you’ve ever heard about him ... is probably true. For longer than one might imagine, he was the kiss-stealing, wheeling-dealing, limo-riding, jet-flying son of a gun. A lot of it got him into trouble, and some of it cost him. He publicly acknowledged as much at the Hall of Fame ceremony, admitting that his first two wives were wonderful mothers to his children, often at times while he was on the road “being Ric Flair.”
But there’s another part of his life that’s very important to him now. He’s got a wonderful wife, Tiffany, who’s as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside, who filled a piece of his heart and soul that was missing, along with four children he absolutely cherishes. Reid, at 20 the youngest, checks in with WWE’s Florida Championship Wrestling developmental territory later this month. The wrestling legacy won’t end with Ric.
As for those diamonds ... they’ll always be forever.
Meanwhile, PWTorch is reporting that Ole Anderson was invited to appear at Ric Flair’s farewell ceremony on Raw this past week, as well as to appear on the Four Horsemen DVD last year, but turned both offers down. He also criticised Flair, saying “He had a lot of potential to begin with, but he’s never had anything different than the same damn match every night… The point is he still doesn’t have any idea how to have a match work. So they gave him credit for the last match here in Orlando. Wonderful. I hope it is. It’ll be the same as it always was. Tell me the match the other night was different than any other match he’s ever had. He always does the same damn dumb things."
"OK, so we're going for yet another emotional moment. We had 'em crying at the Hall of Fame. Had 'em at Mania. OK, one more to go. Let's give it to 'em on Raw. And after the first set of reunions for Flair, don't you think it was time for the mass curtain call, the standing ovation, the "thank you Ric" chants and goodnight everybody? It was a treat for everyone to see Ric reunited with Tully and Arn and Windham and JJ. Anyone who knows the story of how JJ left WWE, and the enormous heat between JJ and Vince will tell you, this was Vince McMahon doing what he felt was right for business. Hey, there's Ricky Steamboat. That's a nice tribute. Their worst matches against each should be considered all time classics. Those two were magic together. Michaels' appearance and hug makes it complete. That's some great emotion.But watching Flair cry because Chris Jericho says thank you? Hey, here's John Cena. And he's saluting Flair. Whooop de freakin' do. Yeah yeah, this is basic Thugonomics. What the hell does it have to do with anyone's favorite Flair memories? Cena? Jericho? Where's Fifi the French Maid?"
"And please, I'm begging someone to tell Vince and Kevin Dunn that f'n song about leaving the memories alone is not something that tugs at the heart, nor does it add to the emotion of a Ric Flair testimonial. Play Strauss' Sprach Zarathustra - which was the theme to 2001: A Space Odyssey - all night long. That other song is just Vince and Kevin saying: "Here's the WWE touch to it all that makes it so great. Get over yourselves."
I think Heyman missed a couple of points. One only a small fraction of all WWE fans watched the Hall of Fame, and the HoF wasnt a retirement ceremony per say it was a Hall of Fame ceremony.
2 Jericho is one of the greatest wrestlers to hit his prime the last decade and he has been very respectful of Flair in ever interview that Flair has ever been brought up in.
3 yes John Cena is an assclown, but he is the WWE's big marketing "star" currently and if you are going to show the 14 and under crowd that havent seen Flairs best days just how important his is to todays wrestlers leaving him out would be silly.
Flair gave his whole life to wrestling and seeing it all ending, I'm sure he would been emotional if Bastion Booger said thank you.
There are times when some people should just learn to shut up! Heyman was saying all the right things when he was talking about JJ, as yes, Vince did the right thing. I must admit, I never quite understood Jericho and Cena coming out, as I wasnt aware they had any real history or connection to Flair, but as bsams said, its about the impact Flair has made on the industry, whether he has worked with people, or just inspired them (and for all we know, they could be great friends backstage anyway).
You only have to look at Big Show being in tears, to understand the impact he has had on people, especially after Flairs comments about how Show could own the industry if he gets his head on straight, at the HOF. What more of an endorsement does a wrestler need than Flair to say something like that? (maybe he should have said more about Shane Douglas in the past, then he woulda ranked higher)
The final comments though, just smack of a guy trying to create heat for heats sake! What was so goddamn bad about the music they played, and how was this Vince trying to say how great he and WWE are?
Maybe Heyman should get over it!
I have a lot of respect for Heyman, hell, I think the guy is brilliant at what he does/did, but fer fucksake Paul, when you bad mouth Vince for doing something good, you sound like an ignorant Snarf!
i dont care about Vince at all but i think it was nice all the attention he gave Flair WM weekend, yes I know Vince is gunna make money of Flair's farewell but this goes against Vince's if i didn't create it philosophy. Flair became famous and great despite Vince not because of him. and it goes against vince not to slight anyone who wasnt his "creation", so i think allowing Flair last weekend should be seen as a plus on Vince's behalf....
but, honestly, no one else in the industry, whether they created by Vince or not, has gotten this kind of sendoff, and I don't think anyone else will for a long, long time.
Jericho's been a fan of Flair for years, and I can remember a specific WCW promo where Flair mentions Jericho by name in regards to wrestlers being inspired by him. so there's always been that.
Cena did stand out like a sore thumb and probably should've been with the rest of the roster when they came out at the end.
as much as I dislike Triple H, he has been a fan and advocate of Flair's for a long time and I'm pretty sure he's had a big part in getting these tributes together. for all his flaws, he has done a lot for Flair professionally and allegedly in his personal life as well.
so for once, Vince has done the right thing. why can't people just enjoy it for what it is and move on?
I think it's because a lot of fans, internet marks especially, like to villify Mahon. I've taken my shots at him as well, but the fact is that Vince, when he wants to, is as capable of very kind acts as any one else.
Knutreturns said: Spoken like the true Greatest RDCW Champ!
whomod said: I generally don't like it when people decide to play by the rules against people who don't play by the rules. It tends to put you immediately at a disadvantage and IMO is a sign of true weakness. This is true both in politics and on the internet."
“It’s been said a million times that Ric Flair is arguably the greatest wrestler of all time. I’m still waiting to hear the argument.”
— Paul Levesque, a/k/a Triple H, March 29, 2008.
—————
There isn’t one, Trips. Not that you needed to be told.
He shared his entrance music with Elvis, and his singular undisputed excellence as well. Over the course of his 36-year career, “Nature Boy” Ric Flair settled the issue of wrestling’s greatest ever in a decisive manner matched perhaps only by Michael Jordan in basketball.
Or perhaps not. Jordan’s NBA comeback at 38 turned out to be ill-advised. Flair, meanwhile, stole the show at 59 — 59! — with his retirement match at WrestleMania eight days ago.
Wrestling’s detractors like to throw around words like “fake.” But it was never fake with Flair.
Suspending disbelief is the goal of the bastard athletic soap opera that is pro wrestling. Great performers do it most of the time. Good performers do it some of the time.
Flair did it every time. He did it every time regardless of the quality of the foe, the size of the crowd, televised or not. He did it hurt, he did it tired, he did it over 300 times per year in his prime, he did it for 60 minutes some nights, he did it twice some days, he did it while making his opponent look better than he really was and he did it far better than anyone else.
Having worked in the business, I’m as jaded as a wrestling fan can be. But when Shawn Michaels had Flair pinned at WrestleMania, I lifted my shoulder even as I sat watching on my living-room couch, trying to make Ric kick out one last time. That’s how much Ric Flair still makes me believe.
Sadly, my help wasn’t enough. As planned, Flair lost, and his career was over.
I’m still not sure why Flair is retiring. He’s still a better in-ring performer than 90 percent of the WWE roster. When he’s turned loose, he’s still the best interview there is. People still want to see him.
But that’s OK. Maybe it’s time anyway.
And while Flair may be done as a full-time wrestler, it seems inevitable that we’ll see a father-son tag team of Ric and Reid Flair on some special occasion. Reid is 20, and was born to be a wrestler. Let’s just hope the burden isn’t too heavy, because he has the toughest act ever to follow.
As much as Ric Flair has meant to me as a performer, he means more to me as a friend. We first met over 20 years ago when I profiled him for a local paper, and we worked together at World Championship Wrestling. He is a genuine, caring man, a great father, and while he’s slowed down a bit in the party department, he’s responsible for killing a frightening amount of my brain cells. I never have a better time than when I’m with Ric Flair. He made me a New York Times best-seller, too.
But friendship doesn’t cloud my judgment when it comes to Ric as a performer. I could write about the Flair-Ricky Steamboat series in ’89, Ric’s glory days in the Mid-Atlantic territory, the Royal Rumble in ’92, or all those great promos with the Four Horsemen, but that would be lost on most of you.
So just ask a wrestler who the best ever is. Ninety-nine percent will say Flair. No one in any profession is more beloved and respected by his peers.
Not only is Flair the greatest wrestler ever, but his name will never die. Never mind the video, never mind all the press clippings, never mind the books. Go to a wrestling show. Whether it’s the WWE in Mellon Arena or an independent show in a little gym, just buy a ticket, sit down and wait for a wrestler to throw a chop like Flair was famous for.
“WHOOOOO!” Whether it’s 15,000 fans or 15, I guarantee you will hear Ric Flair’s trademark exclamation thunder from just about every larynx in the house. Today, tomorrow and forever.
There may be an encore, but there won’t be a successor. They only made one.
I wish I could quit you.
