Going through old issues of the Wrestling Observer Newsletter and posting highlights in my own words, continuing in the footsteps of daprice82. For anyone interested, I highly recommend signing up for the actual site at f4wonline and checking out the full archives.
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1987
FUTURE YEARS ARCHIVE:
The Complete Observer Rewind Archive by daprice82


1-4-1988	1-11-1988	1-18-1988	1-25-1988
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The big story this week is WWF has announced a 14-man tournament for Wrestlemania IV. The word going around is that there will be four other matches: a battle royal (which ought to get another dozen guys on the card for the big payday, probably two tag matches (Dave speculates Demolition vs. Strike Force and Bulldogs vs. Islanders) and an Intercontinental title defense for Honkeytonk Man. The leading candidate for challenger there is Brutus Beefcake, so they’ll need to get on top of shooting an angle for that this week if they want to try and get it over. Anyway, the real meat of Wrestlemania is this tournament, and the bracket has already been announced on the syndicated shows.

Jack Tunney announces Wrestlemania tournament
Dave’s hand-drawn bracket

So looking at this bracket, what are the likely outcomes? Dave thinks there’s really only two possibilities, and there’s only two possibilities for the final match. Hogan vs. DiBiase is the obvious finals if Hogan is to win, and if Hogan’s filming schedule for his upcoming movie (it begins in April) allows for it, this will be the finals. If he can wrestle during the summer, Dave expects him to win, if not he expects DiBiase to win overall since the winner of the tournament needs to be a heel to drop it back to Hogan when the company decides the time is write (Dave thinks the ppv in August looks like that time). If DiBiase wins, Dave thinks it’s going to be Don Muraco he beats in the finals, however. Dave then goes down the bracket and explains who he thinks wins when, ruling out combinations of guys (if Roberts beats Rude, Bravo beats Muraco, so we get Roberts vs. Bravo, for example). Savage doesn’t go out in the first round, obviously, but neither should Steamboat lose to Valentine, so that’s probably our token face vs. face match leading probably to a draw or double elimination. Notice anything weird about this bracket, though? WWF changes plans and redraws the bracket. They swap Roberts/Rude and DiBiase/Duggan’s place so DiBiase is on the same side of the bracket before Wrestlemania, so all this speculation by Dave ultimately goes nowhere because that one shift completely changes the tournament. More on that change when it happens. Dave is definitely right about one thing, though: there are going to be way too many matches on this show, so they're definitely going to have to have some fuck finishes to get the number of matches down in the tournament so things work.
The Main Event’s final rating was a 15.1 and a 25 share, ranking 31st for the week. Dave feels like this has to be a major disappointment for WWF and NBC, as both figured the show would be in the top 10 easily. It won its time slot and the rating was better than the 11.6 average NBC has gotten in that slot with Rags to Riches, but it’s not as big a winner as they hoped. So in the LA Times and USA Today, Dick Ebersole (who co-produced the show with Vince) said that they weren’t interested in a weekly prime-time show because it would hurt live gates. But the reality is they won’t even be offered a slot, because they won’t be able to sustain competitive ratings. Dave was really surprised by the rating, and this show’s rating was the most interested he’s been in something wrestling related for a long time, because it was a test of just how much the general public would bite on wrestling. And what we’ve learned is that to the general public the biggest wrestling match possible, with the biggest hype possible (Andre vs. Hogan) with a month of buildup on all shows and even big news media attention (almost every newspaper ran a feature about the show at some point during the build) only got mediocre mainstream support. Wrestling fans are supremely loyal and will watch no matter the time slot, and the same show on Saturday night at 11:30 pm would have gotten at least a 12 rating), but moving to prime time didn’t get them a big increase in viewers. It renders moot the question of how first-time viewers will take the evil twin angle and such, because few of the viewers were first-time watchers. The audience was the same wrestling audience we’ve always had, and 85% of the general public just ignored the show and hype outright. Nothing wrong with that, people like and dislike what they want to, and WWF can still make loads of money off the 12-15% of people who do have an interest in wrestling.
But this really puts Hulk Hogan and his appeal/drawing power into perspective. To the cult wrestling audience, he’s bigger than any wrestling star has ever been in the U.S. But he’s not mainstream, not really. He can help get wrestling on prime time network television a couple times a year, but they can’t build wrestling on him to make a mainstream appeal. And Hogan, for as over as he is here, clearly falls short of the most over acts to have graced Japan (Inoki in his heyday) and boxing (Larry Holmes, for example). WWF did prove they can be put in a weak time slot during sweeps with a lot of hype behind a special card and win the slot, which is no small thing. We can probably expect another prime time special in the future, but probably no more than one or two a year. You won’t read about wrestling’s resurgence in Time Magazine, and networks won’t discover Crockett’s shows because nobody’s looking at wrestling as a hot item (if the show had cracked the top five, maybe they would). The long and the short of it is, WWF is no worse off than they were two weeks ago, and Wrestlemania will still make a lot of money. And although Vince has gotten WWF to the point where they are making more money off wrestling than any other promotion in history, their “mainstream” interest in this country doesn’t even come close to New Japan’s tv heyday (1982-1985), and Hogan’s ability to draw a rating is probably more than anyone else in the modern era in the U.S., but probably isn’t as strong as Chigusa Nagayo’s ratings drawing power is in Japan.
And you might be wondering if it’s appropriate to compare to Japan, or if the comparison is ridiculous given cultural differences. Dave notes that the U.S. is more tv oriented in Japan, which should put things in greater perspective - Hogan has all the advantages of American television culture and is still behind Nagayo and Inoki in terms of relative mainstream appeal/drawing power in their culture. In short, Dave had a conversation with a WWF employee a couple months ago about wrestling style (serious, hardcore vs. sports entertainment fast food) and if it was the style, being the best run promotion, or how much money they spend that makes WWF number 1. Their conclusion was that they couldn’t figure out a clear answer. No other promotion that offers a traditional product has hundreds in the front office, $250,000 to spend on every tv taping, etc. There’s no way to control for the sheer magnitude of advantages WWF has to be able to tell if they would be beatable, and the only way to know the answer about style would be if there was another promotion that had a traditional style but also had the production values, the front office staff, etc. And on the flip side, would people like Carlos Colon, Riki Choshu, Antonio Inoki, or Chigusa Nagayo be as over as they are if their local markets had a dozen different wrestling promotions on tv?
[Memphis] Financial News Network announced on Tuesday that they’ll start airing CWA Wrestling weekly beginning in April. Dave forgot to write down the time slot, but thinks it’s Saturday nights at 9 pm eastern. ESPN signed a new exclusive deal with AWA for 2 years, which kicks World Class off ESPN. Angelo Savoldi’s ICW in New England got a deal with Tempo cable, so all other wrestling will be dropped from that service.
AWA is “restructuring the company.” No word on what that means other than that their Las Vegas card this Sunday will be their last for about a month before they reopen in late March. Maybe they’ll change some major things about how they run? Dave thinks Verne’s gotten tired of people making decisions that cost him money, so he’ll probably be booker again. From what Dave hears, Curt Hennig will be the only wrestler getting paid during the time off, so expect Verne to fob him off to Memphis for the interim. The Midnight Rockers will probably also work Memphis in that time. No idea about the rest of the roster, but they’ll probably have to find new work in other territories if they can find work in wrestling, or regular jobs if they can’t.
Over in Puerto Rico they sold out on January 30 a big show at Roberto Clemente Coliseum. That’s roughly 32,000 fans to watch Carlos Colon vs. Iron Sheik for the Universal Title, with manager Chicky Starr in a shark cage above the ring. Carlos won, of course, as Sheiky baby is heading back to WWF. Dave talks a bit about Carlos - he’s over like Rover, but the man’s comebacks are dull as hell. It’s a bizarre thing, what gets over with crowds.
Stampede’s February 5 show had what was probably the best match in Calgary in months. Bruce Hart and Brian Pillman defended the International Tag Titles against Great Gama and Jerry Morrow, with three assigned referees (Wayne Hart, heel ref Jurgen Herman, and heel ref for Karachi Vice Akeem Singh). Herman wound up being the main referee, but got knocked down by Gama, and after that when Pillman went up top to do a dive, Akeem threw powder in his eyes and Gama did a cobra hold. When Herman came to, he saw Pillman passed out and awarded the match and titles to the heels and they celebrated with champagne until Wayne Hart told Herman what happened and the decision was reversed.
Les Thornton has been given a promoter’s permit by the Calgary Boxing & Wrestling Commission. He’ll start running shows against Stampede in the spring.
WWF is doing a Wrestling Challenge taping on March 9 in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. That’s about 20 miles from Greensboro, so they’re encroaching a bit on Flair country, which means they’re making moves to kill the competition dead.
WWF has a Saturday Night’s Main Event scheduled for March 12, to be taped on the 7th.
Honkeytonk Man was supposed to drop the Intercontinental Title at The Main Event but vetoed the title change. Lots of chaos backstage as a result of it, and the match was also supposed to be shorter than it wound up being. He held out and refused to job and he’s still champion, so in the end he got what he wanted. You might wonder why not just have Savage win anyway and not give in by having him shoot on Honkeytonk, but the key is Honkeytonk realized that Vince wouldn’t want to take a chance of anything bad happening on tv, and you definitely aren’t going to want a match turning into a shoot and getting real violence on live tv. This also probably explains why he’s not in the tournament.
Billy Jack Haynes apparently asked Vince McMahon for help starting a promotion in Oregon to run against Don Owen’s promotion. Vince wasn’t biting, and this ultimately is the real reason he was let go, probably, as those close to him say it wasn’t his health, but that he wanted to get out anyway because he wasn’t being pushed (and neither was Brady Boone).
Jesse Ventura will get to do color commentary this season on some New York Yankees games for local pay-tv. He’s apparently thrilled about this.
Correction: Bam Bam Bigelow didn’t have arthroscopic knee surgery. He just took a week off to rest his knee, and isn’t planning to get surgery until just after Wrestlemania.
Bam Bam also had a drug possession charge dismissed against him in Freehold, New Jersey on the grounds that the evidence was obtained illegally and that state police had no grounds to search his car. They found a small bag of marijuana under his seat and he got a misdemeanor possession charge, but again, no probable cause to search so that’s a 4th amendment violation. They pulled him over and searched his car, apparently, because he waved at the officers. If convicted, he would have been in big trouble because he’s still on probation from a 1986 conviction for threatening to kill a local sex worker (that’s a big yikes right there), so he would have caught a 5 year prison sentence for revocation of probation.
Memphis has a revolving door of talent, as Bill Dundee is leaving and Manny Fernandez, Scott Hall, and several others have disappeared. Dundee is going to the new promotion that will be running out of Knoxville. New to the area this week are the Rock & Roll Express, Tommy Rich, and Samoans Samu and Kokina. Samu is Afa’s son, and Kokina is, from the information Dave has, Sika’s son (he’s Afoa’s son, not Sika’s son). Kokina is impressively large at 400 lbs, but Samu is definitely the more impressive wrestler. Kokina, of course, will later on travel to Japan for a kayfabe sumo career and come back to the WWF as Yokozuna.
[Memphis] Tommy Rich is apparently a babyface, going by his recent interview. He apologized for all the bad things he did and said he was wrong to team with Austin Idol and Paul E. Dangerously, but he said he still hates Jerry Lawler. There’s legit heat between him and Lawler which is why Rich left last year anyway while he was a top heel. So he said he wanted all the fans in Memphis who hated Lawler to come support him. Expect a 50/50 crowd for their february 15 grudge match - although the promotion can’t draw without him, there is a large group of fans who don’t like that he’s constantly on top of the card.

Watch: Tommy Rich calls on the fans who hate Jerry Lawler

[Memphis] The manager with the preacher gimmick has dropped that gimmick, and the Choir Boys tag team are gone. Too much negative attention in the form of phone calls to the studio last week. The manager, Ernest Angel, now manages CWA Tag champs Max Payne and Gary Young, and his behavior has been toned down and he’s apologized somewhat for his behavior the previous week.
Continental (Alabama) had its last week this week as a unified promotion this week, since the Knoxville office ran its first show this weekend. They drew 7,000 in Knoxville on February 12. Dave’s not sure what the eventual talent split will work out, but known guys going to Knoxville are Johnny Rich, Bill Dundee, Hector Guerrero, Ron Fuller (didn’t he announce his retirement a few weeks ago?), Austin Idol, Lord Humongous, Doug Furnas, Mongolian Stomper, the Armstrongs, and Tracy Smothers.
[Oregon] The Frank Bonema Memorial Show is scheduled for February 16. Boneme was their long-time tv announcer who passed away five years ago. Curt Hennig vs. The Grappler (Hennig as babyface) for the AWA Title is the main event. The show will also have a battle royal for the TV Title, Mike Miller vs. Rip Oliver in a cage, The Assassin vs. Avalanche in a mask vs. headgear match (Avalanche lost his hair in a match and has been wearing headgear like Kurt Angle or Molly Holly to hide it), and a couple more matches.
Steve Estes, a former wrestler local to the Kansas City area, pleaded guilty to a Class B felony. The charge was related to the hold-up of a Mexican restaurant in October. He was charged with a Class A felony, but the charge was reduced on plea bargain. He faces five to fifteen years.
Mean Gene Okerlund’s son Todd is on the U.S. Olympic Ice Hockey team right now. At the time of writing the team will have won their first game, but their fortunes turn south over the rest of the group stage and they don’t qualify to go to the knockout rounds of the tournament.
Mad Dog Vachon is suing the University of Iowa Hospital and Clinic for several million dollars. His claim is that if he had received proper treatment he would never have needed to have his leg amputated. This starts a big series of cases lasting all the way until 1994, and you can read the final case summary here.
There’s a movie in Japan called “The Crazy Family” which includes the family’s 13 year old daughter doing nothing but weightlifting and training and singing so she can be like Chigusa Nagayo. It’s from 1984, so I don’t know why Dave’s only just noticing it now.

Watch: The Crazy Family (1:09:00 to see one of the training scenes)

Florida has dropped legislation that would have created a state athletic commission that would regulate wrestling. Legislators met with Duke Keomuka and Gerald Briscoe, and were subsequently convinced that wrestling is pure entertainment and not a sport at all.
In Southern California a new group is starting up called the American Women’s Wrestling Federation. They’re running ads for beautiful women who want to be trained as wrestlers. Mando Guerrero and Debbie Pelletier (The Killer Tomato, later Dallas in GLOW) will be training, and Dave remarks that Debbie doesn’t know the first thing about wrestling.
Bruiser Brody is promoting a show in St. Louis at the Fox Theater on March 4. He’ll face Jerry Blackwell in the main event, and Sam Muchnick will be there to raise the winner’s hand. The building is apparently the nicest building within 500 miles of St. Louis and not the sort of place that would ordinarily let wrestling in. Muchnick apparently felt used by the NWA at a recent taping by constantly showing him on camera and making it out like he endorsed the NWA and that they have continuity with the NWA he ran back in the day. So that’s why he’s on board. Crockett’s NWA has a show in St. Louis two days later.
Wrestling fanzine publisher David Leehy promoted a show that drew 200 in Richmond Virginia on February 5 for Virginia Wrestling Association.
Ohio’s state senate passed a bill that would put a 5% tax on all wrestling receipts, with money raised going to the boxing commission. The money would be earmarked for creating a medical advisory board for boxing. No regulation of wrestling is proposed in the bill, and the bill still has to pass the house. Seems a bit unfair.
WCCW drew 3,800 (buy one ticket, get a second for a penny, same deal for concessions) in Dallas on February 12.
Michael Hayes is back in WCCW as a babyface. No surprises there. They’re building to a Hayes concert on March 5 at the Sportatorium, and that’ll probably have a big angle. Somebody’s gotta attack Hayes. Won’t be Terry Gordy, since he’ll be in Japan, but somebody will.
WCCW’s tv show is airing mainly tapes of old matches. That’s fine in the Fort Worth area, since they had no live cards for two weeks, but Dave’s puzzled nonetheless. Maybe they somehow missed a taping?
Ken Mantell has this idea of reopening Wild West and starting their tv back up and having Wild West and World Class feud. Where’s the logic in that? Plus, there are enough promotions that this would only confuse the average fan.
Steve Williams told the press in Japan he’ll be coming to work in World Class. It’s not been announced stateside yet, but he said he’d wrestle in WCCW as UWF champion and defend the belt against the Von Erichs.
AWA is putting all the heat with the recent Hennig/Gagne title match on Stanley Blackburn. They’d billed the match as a title match, Gagne won and was presented with the title, but Stan refused to honor the title change because it was a cage match. Something to talk about in the month they don’t run shows, I guess, but this is what passes for creative in AWA.
AWA will use the University of Minnesota’s Williams Arena as their new home base now that the Minneapolis Auditorium is gone. There’s some concern that the arena’s ban on alcohol will adversely affect ticket sales.
Despite some screw ups, New Japan did fairly good business with their most recent tour and jr. heavyweight tournament. Inoki beat Choshu decisively on February 4 to retain the IWGP Title, which puts a final end to Choshumania and any chance he had of regaining the popularity he’s lost over the past six months. On the final night of the tour, Shiro Koshinaka won the Top of the Super Juniors tournament. Vader and Inoki went to a double countout for the IWGP Title that saw the return of the masked pirate who was attacking Inoki last year.
In bad wrestling stuff in New Japan, Choshu’s performance has noticeably slipped and Buzz Sawyer seems to be trying to sabotage Owen Hart. Choshu just looks like he doesn’t even want to be in the ring anymore. As for Sawyer, he’s been teaming with Owen and when Owen starts up his more flashy offence, Sawyer starts barking, howling, and playing to the crowd to distract them from what Hart’s doing. Buzz Sawyer is a total buzzkill.
New Japan plans to tour Brazil in late March.
Steve Williams gave an interview saying he’s tired of touring all over the U.S. and he wants to spend more time with his wife. He also said the NWA broke a bunch of promises they made to him when they bought out UWF, and he seemed pretty upset that Dusty never followed through with the promised unification match with Flair. He said “I don’t go back to NWA Crockett promotions anymore. I’d like to wrestle for promotions which set a high value on ability. New Japan is good because they use Vader, Buzz Sawyer, Bob Orton and Owen Hart who can do hard wrestling.
All Japan Women is looking pretty healthy right now. They drew 3,500 fans on January 28 for a big grudge match pitting Yumiko Hotta and Hisako Uno against Yumi Ogura and Kazue Nagahori. It was last year on April 27 when Ogura tombstoned Hotta off the middle ropes and broke her neck, and there was worry that Hotta would never wrestle again. The next night they drew 4,500 as Ogura won the AJW Title (their tertiary belt after the “Red Belt” WWWA World Singles Title and the “White Belt” WWWA All Pacific Title) from Bull Nakano via disqualification. Both shows work out to over 100,000 gates given ticket prices in Japan, and AJW’s merch machine is better than anyone else, as they get more money selling merch per capita than any other promotion. Monster Ripper (Rhonda Singh from Stampede, in the future Bertha Faye), is working here now too.
Paul Boesch was elected/appointed to the NWA board of directors, making him the first non-promoter ever on the board. Back in the NWA’s glory days, the board would select the world champion, but that’s probably pretty much up to Jim Crockett now and the board is more or less a figurehead thing. The real value for the NWA here is using Boesch’s name value in the Houston area, and he’ll be starting as they return to Houston on March 4. He’s not on board as the promoter, however, and has no financial stake in the show, so it’s pretty much just a “Hey, remember Paul Boesch? He’s with us” kind of thing.
More details will be forthcoming about the Crockett Cup next week, but Dave has a bit to report right now. The original plan was two sites on two dates: April 9 in Greenville for the first round and April 10 in Greensboro for the finals, but they’re already advertising on tv now that the Cup will take place in Greensboro in late April. No information on if they’ll be filling out the 24 team slots with outside teams, but if they can get World Class and Stampede, maybe even New Japan involved that could help. But with the egos involved it might be impossible.
Crockett’s TBS show this weekend had a balding, blond jobber named Randy Hogan. Subtle.
Shane Douglass is back in Crockett and is using a sleeper hold for his finisher. He seems to be getting a bit of a push, but they don’t seem to know what they’re doing, as Schiavone is calling him the 1986 rookie of the year and Jim Ross is calling him the 1987 rookie of the year.
Road Warrior Animal’s eye injury is legit and he’ll be out of action for a few weeks. He broke his orbital bone when Konga the Barbarian botched a move on him and was nearly blinded (similar injury to what Maeda inflicted on Riki Choshu). They were billing him as returning this past weekend, which had Dave thinking it was a work at first. Dave’s not sure how effective the angle with the weights was in terms of increasing crowd turnout. So far, middling turnout says not very effective.
It’s astonishing how fast Luger’s face run has fizzled. Luger’s the kind of guy you can look at and in a snap decision decide he’s a future top babyface star and begin the push, but when you look at him close you realize he just doesn’t have it. He’s got the body, the good looks, the hair, all the surface level stuff you want in a guy. It almost convinces you he’s over and the future of the business. But having a good body and blond hair is pretty common, and his looks aren’t anything special either. He could still be a big star and almost certainly will be a star at some level in the future, but he just doesn’t have the connection to the audience that will make him the guy. He didn’t have it in Florida (the promotion literally died trying to get him over as a babyface in 1986), and he doesn’t have it now. Sting needs a lot of work on promos, and he’s not got the body Luger has, but he has the connection with the fans and has just eclipsed Luger in their eyes. And it’s super obvious to anyone watching. The crowd comes alive for every little thing Sting does, and they don’t really care about Luger and Windham when they talk. Sting’s look comes across as more cool to the fans too. Dave has this feeling that Crockett will want to keep all three at the same level, ensuring nobody gets over enough to make a difference. And Luger’s not to blame for the crowd reaction. The promotion wasted no time making him just one of the boys after his face turn, and Dave thinks they should have given him a few months of a major singles babyface push rather than just ruining the impact of his face turn by making him a tag team guy.
An anonymous wrestler or referee from Oregon writes in about the latest athletic commission business in Oregon. Short version: Don Owen and the commissioner were arguing over enforcement of certain rules in the combined boxing and wrestling rule book. The commissioner wanted to regulate wrestling exactly the same as boxing. He saw a guy thrown over the top and saw the top rope break during a match, leading to a nasty spill. He told Owen that having four ropes would fix that problem, and he didn’t like seeing heels use foreign objects in front of the referee and would appoint a commission referee if that kind of stuff continued. Three weeks later, he came back with a changed point of view after meeting commissioners from other states. Clearly someone smartened him up about what wrestling actually is, and he changed his mind about the ropes and foreign objects, though he did want drug testing and a ban on blading. He lied in the media that he said what he said about the ropes and referees, but he did say it. In the writer’s opinion, the commission is on the right track now. They check tickets closely, seem concerned for the welfare of fans and wrestlers alike, and have introduced changes that the Northwest has needed for a while. It doesn’t solve the big problem out there, though. And that problem is that Don and Barry Owen run things like it’s the 1940s and are afraid to try new things. They also don’t want to pay well, and with the death of the territories happening, they can get away with it because there aren’t that many places to work. A lot of wrestlers would prefer if Sandy Barr ran things in the region, because he’s been seen as very fair. Finally, unrelated, a paragraph about shoot style and shooting that I think is very interesting as we see things like MMA begin to take nascent form in the next few years:

One other thing I would like to touch upon. That is the people who seem to get off on “shooting style” pro wrestling. Shooting is NOT pro wrestling. In fact it’s the very antithesis of pro wrestling. Why anybody who claims to be a pro wrestling fan would like to see it is beyond me. Pro Wrestling is an art form. Making it look good WITHOUT hurting anyone is what makes you a good worker. Good technique, a light touch and a gift for gab is what constitutes a top-notch pro. Wrestlers who deliberately hurt people in the ring may be feared, but they are not respected. We find many of these asses in Japan, but we have our share in the United States and Canada as well. When you give someone your body, you expect them to take care of it. People pay to see action and drama. Legitimate wrestling matches have never proven to be able to draw any significant following.

Another writer writes in about the Observer yearbook and how a large chunk of it was super professionally done and could be the basis for expansion into a proper book, but there’s also sophomoric and childish stuff (like the nicknames) that hurt it. The writer thinks Dave’s passed the point of just being a fanzine and shouldn’t bog down the quality of his publication with stuff of that sort. Dave, for his part, thanks the writer for his points, but maintains he’s never wanted or claimed the Observer as a professional publication. The Observer is a publication for hardcore wrestling fans and plays on a lot of the inside humor they want to hear.
There’s an entire page devoted to letters about The Main Event. Some folks think Andre should retire with what dignity he still has, because he just shouldn’t be in a ring anymore. Some loved the finish to the title match, others hated it and found it ridiculous. One reports that just before the show started, the local tv announcer pivoted from Wheel of Fortune to the show by saying “Join Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant next for live wrestling comedy.”
Correction on the above about Road Warrior Animal’s injury: He apparently hurt his eye the night before the bench press contest. A move was done wrong, or he took it wrong, but either way, his eye popped out of socket. Major credit to him showing up the next day to do the contest angle before going to the hospital. It explains Ellering’s comments about $50,000 not being worth the price of an eye, which didn’t make sense at the time.
New Japan has changed plans and their big show they were going to have in the Tokyo Dome (capacity 55,000) will now be at a tennis stadium in Tokyo (capacity 10,000) on May 7. Looks like he’ll wrestle Vader, Willem Ruska (a former gold medalist judoka), or Chris Dolman (a sambo wrestling champion), and none of those pairings has the drawing power to fill the Dome. If he really wanted to sell out the Dome he’d need Koji Kitao (who was recently kicked out of sumo) or a big name boxer like Michael Spinks or Larry Holmes, but he couldn’t get them. On Kitao, he recently was contacted by Wajima, which means Baba’s on the hunt for him, although things are so early they haven’t even had preliminary talks yet.

THURSDAY: Clash of the Champions is born, the Wrestlemania lineup has been finalized, Road Warrior Animal update and clarification, and more

The Killers' Interview with Music Week

The campaign for The Killers’ new LP Imploding The Mirage has already endured a delayed album, postponed tour and potential scandal against the dystopian backdrop of Covid-19. Here, the band’s Brandon Flowers and Ronnie Vannucci, manager Robert Reynolds, WME agent Kirk Sommer and EMI’s Clive Cawley reflect on a turbulent few months – and roll out plan B...
For one of Las Vegas’ favourite sons, Brandon Flowers plays his cards close to his chest. The Killers frontman has retained an enigmatic aura in the age of celebrity and social media, so having a fellow indie rock‘n’roller on hand to fill in the blanks feels like hitting the jackpot.
“Brandon is a workhorse,” enthuses Travis singer Fran Healy, Flowers’ one-time touring partner. “He’ll come off stage and go and run for an hour on a treadmill; then he’ll have a shower, go to the back of the tour bus and start songwriting until 3am. He doesn’t stop.”
“I don’t know that he’s any different to me, maybe no treadmills,” chuckles Flowers, confirming the veracity of the account. The rock superstar co-wrote Here With Me – the final single from the US band’s 2012 Battle Born LP – with Healy.
“We love Fran,” beams Flowers, speaking to Music Week from his home in Park City, Utah. “At our very first gig me and Dave Keuning, our guitarist, did an open mic night at a café and played a Travis song, Side, which I love. So getting to know him and becoming friendly has been really nice. It’s always good to be able to talk to someone who’s shared some of these experiences and has done it before you.”
This was meant to be The Killers’ year. A career-defining Glastonbury headline slot (see panel on p18) laid the groundwork for their biggest ever British tour (250,000 tickets sold in under two hours), while outstanding new album Imploding The Mirage looked set to enshrine their place in rock’s Champions League.
Alas, 2020 had other ideas. The group’s UK stadium run was put back 12 months, while the accompanying long-player finally saw the light of day last Friday – three months later than originally planned (thanks to you know what).
“It brought a lot of activity to a halt unfortunately,” sighs their agent, WME partner and head of music Kirk Sommer. “We had a complete 18-month plan with some additional stadium shows in other territories.”
Forecasting the chaos that was to come, Sommer moved quickly to secure alternative dates for 2021.

"I've noticed songs are coming easier as I get older."
- Brandon Flowers

“I had some early visibility as I saw what was happening in Asia and some other territories, and by the end of February or first week of March – while shows were still playing out in the UK – we were able to successfully hold the same markets,” he says. “I do not have a crystal ball and there is no science or data to support this will be a viable time period, but it’s as late as we could go in these venues and there are other tours getting confirmed and going on sale for the spring in the UK and in far worse impacted territories. So we remain very cautious, but have to remain hopeful as well. Demand remains very strong.”
Nevada-born Flowers, who turns 40 next year, upped sticks from Vegas a couple of years ago and has been relishing life in lockdown with wife Tana and their three sons. “I feel a little bit guilty,” he confides. “I’m so used to travelling so much and being away that I’m enjoying the extra time being in such close proximity to everybody. It’s been a nice experience.”
“I’m spending a lot more time in the kitchen,” chips in drummer Ronnie Vannucci, halfway through making a sandwich. “I don’t mind it so bad, except that I was really looking forward to sharing these songs and playing them for people and now it’s... a little different.”
On the album delay, The Killers manager Robert Reynolds says the decision was effectively taken out of their hands.
“It was hard, but there were two factors,” explains the Reynolds Management boss. “First, the album wasn’t completed. Part way through mixing we couldn’t get into the room with our mixer, who had a new baby. Things were done remotely and certain finishing touches had to be completed.
“Still, everyone hoped that Covid-19 would be resolved quickly. At first, the label hoped we could delay a few months and perhaps things could be different. When it became clear that performing live wouldn’t happen for a while, we just did our best to get this music finished and out to our fans as soon as possible.”
“People need music now more than ever,” asserts Flowers. “Music has always been a place that I go to for comfort or escape, or to feel like I’m not alone, and I think those attributes of music are still alive and kicking and people need them now.”
Even with the intervention of a global pandemic, EMI MD Clive Cawley says the campaign’s core objective remains the same – to deliver a sixth straight UK No.1 studio album for The Killers.
“It’s been a stop-start process since we launched a ticket pre-order bundle as far back as November 2019,” reflects Cawley. “With the album originally slated for a May release, it’s been somewhat of a challenge to maintain public and media interest and enthusiasm. Full credit to both the band for delivering an excellent record and our team working the project for never giving up and making sure we do it justice across every department. It’s just kept rolling along very nicely indeed.”
Lead single Caution (49,560 sales, OCC), which features former Fleetwood Mac star Lindsey Buckingham on guitar, got the latest Killers era off to a flying start, reaching No.1 on the US rock airplay chart. Three other tracks: Fire In Bone, My Own Soul’s Warning and the soaring Dying Breed were also put out ahead of time. “We released as many tracks before the album dropped as we could,” says Reynolds. “It’s hard to sit on songs you know are great.”

"The Killers have never wanted to headline rooms too big, too fast."
- Robert Reynolds, Reynolds Management

Recorded in studios in Utah, Las Vegas and Los Angeles, Shawn Everett and Foxygen’s Jonathan Rado were drafted in to handle production duties, with other cameos including KD Lang, Weyes Blood and The War On Drugs’ Adam Granduciel on what is trumpeted as the band’s “most collaborative” record to date.
“I feel good about it,” nods Vannucci, who names Blowback and Running Towards A Place as personal highlights. “We went off track a little bit with the way we do things and arrived at a very pleasing spot,” he continues. “It was like going camping without knowing where you’re going, and then arriving at a really good camp spot.”
Every track is brimming with mass singalong potential, befitting the enormous stages on which they were intended to be played.
“We’ve always written a certain type of song that resonates with a lot of people,” notes Flowers. “We’ve never been shy about our admiration for the Rolling Stones, U2 and these bands that do that well and so I think it’s just part of our DNA. It’s definitely there and it’s something that you think about.”
Reynolds admits to keeping his initially sky-high expectations in check due to world events. “Now that we won’t have touring to support the new songs, I’m not sure what to expect,” he concedes. “Bands that aren’t using the biggest pop writers to dominate Top 40 radio rely on live performances to expose fans to their music. All of The Killers’ hits – and even non-hits that became fan favourites, like All These Things That I’ve Done – became such as a result of live performances. I can’t wait for us to get back on the road to do this album justice.”
Guitarist Keuning and bassist Mark Stoermer stepped back from touring prior to the 2017/18 Wonderful Wonderful tour (“I wanted to have more of a normal life,” Keuning told MW last year). Though Stoermer contributed to Imploding The Mirage, the record is the group’s first to be made without Keuning’s involvement. However, Reynolds insists both founding members remain part of the band. “Extensive touring takes its toll,” he says. “Everyone is getting along fine and I expect that both of them will be more involved on the next album cycle.”
Seasoned festival headliners, The Killers are already a proven draw at the highest level, but their 10-date jaunt now set for 2021 – scheduled to kick off in Doncaster on May 25 and conclude at Manchester’s Emirates Old Trafford on June 12, prior to two outdoor shows in Ireland – will be their first UK stadium tour.
“The Killers have never wanted to headline rooms too big, too fast,” says Reynolds. “Other bands in similar positions would have played full stadium tours at an earlier point in their career. We were certain we would sell the shows out, and the band have been touring in the UK with consistent No.1 records for six albums now. The time felt right.”
“We also wanted to launch with something really big that would reverberate around the world,” adds Sommer. “We had already sold out Wembley Stadium on a previous campaign and sold out Hyde Park in record time to signify the beginning of the last campaign, which was immediately followed by a sold-out arena run.
“We put our toe in the water [in 2018] with a couple of outdoor regional shows in Swansea and Bolton that accompanied a larger European festival run to see how the band and the fans would like them. It was an easy way to try a couple before we overcommitted to something more extensive that we might not love. The thought was that, if they were a success, we would and could plot the whole next UK and Irish album run outdoors.”
The year took another unwelcome turn in the last week of July, when The Killers camp was rocked by lurid sexual misconduct accusations dating back more than a decade. In a blog, Chez Cherrie, an audio technician who worked on the band’s Day & Age tour for three weeks in 2009, described a misogynistic backstage culture and, most seriously, alleged hearing crew members boast of sexually assaulting an intoxicated woman in a dressing room at a Milwaukee venue.

"They are cementing themselves even deeper in the history books."
- Clive Cawley, EMI

A subsequent internal investigation deduced the claims were “an attempt at a joke or a ‘hazing’” by a front of house (FOH) engineer after interviewing crew and tracing the alleged victim, who confirmed “she did not experience, witness or hear about a sexual assault”. The group’s lawyers identified the FOH engineer, dismissed from the touring team in 2013, as a “problematic workmate” whose “pattern of poor management” and “series of sexist remarks and rude comments” had caused “great distress” to the complainant.
Reynolds tells Music Week that although the band were “shocked” by the allegations, they were determined to find out exactly what had happened. “It was important to us that we were thorough in our investigation – including reports from the venue, security, and depositions of crew members conducted by a separate law firm – transparent in our findings and also that we carefully considered what changes can be made going forward,” he explains.
“I’ve seen first-hand what bad men can do to a woman’s experience in this life,” says Flowers. “So if there was something like that going on in our camp, of course, I wanted to get to the bottom of it and thank God, it was proven to be a false alarm. I want our fans to know that we would never turn a blind eye to an assault. We respect women and we want everybody to know that.”
For a band whose two decades in the business have been devoid of scandal, the episode was a reality check.
“It changed our way of thinking about everything,” remarks Vannucci. “We are constantly trying to promote good living and responsibility; that is how we run the ship and we’re going to continue to do so – perhaps with a little bit more of a vision and an outlook for keeping people safe and making them feel safe when working under our umbrella.”
The Killers have directed their team to establish an off-site independent HR contact for future tours.
“If there is something positive to come out of this, we’re going to have a HR development on our next tour where if anybody feels scared or like they are being treated unfairly, or feel uncomfortable in any way, they’ll have a number to call,” says Flowers. “Hopefully that will make women especially feel more comfortable on a job that is predominantly men.”
“Touring and the music industry as a whole was really different 10 to 15 years ago and we hope we can be part of the change to make it more welcoming to everyone,” reflects Reynolds. “We all need to be vigilant that no one is ever made uncomfortable. Unlike other large companies, touring bands don’t have HR departments. For that reason, we decided to retain a third party HR company going forward. I’d suggest every band do this so that all crew members feel like they have a reliable third party to voice and investigate concerns.”
Imploding The Mirage’s predecessor, 2017’s Wonderful Wonderful (182,398 sales), gave the rockers a first No.1 LP in their homeland, although much of the attention was focused on ubiquitous first single The Man (345,592 sales) and its memorable music video. “I always associate the record with the tour and I loved the tour,” says Flowers. “I’m really proud of songs like Rut, The Man and Run For Cover, I feel like they are going to stick around.”
For Vannucci and Reynolds, the period conjures up mixed emotions. “That was an odd time for me personally,” recalls Vannucci. “My father died and I was fresh off the heels of a divorce when we were writing that record. I wouldn’t say it was dark, but there was definitely change in the air. But I really enjoyed the tour.”
“The Man was very successful — a great video and the first [US] alternative No.1 in 10 years since Read My Mind,” notes Reynolds. “Still, there are songs on that album which I don’t think enough people are familiar with. The campaign went well, but I wish music consumption today wasn’t so singles-oriented and people spent more time appreciating entire albums.”
Flowers, for one, hasn’t lost sight of the power of deeper cuts. “We still strive to create an overall listening experience or a feeling with an entire record,” he reveals. “You can’t really do that without having those types of songs and sometimes those are people’s favourites. When I was growing up, I didn’t necessarily know what the singles were when I bought an album. I gravitated towards what my heart gravitated towards.”
Lest we forget, The Killers sold records when bands really sold records – 2004 debut Hot Fuss has moved 2,333,888 copies in the UK, while sales of follow-ups Sam’s Town (2006) and Day & Age (2008) have also reached seven figures. The group has amassed over 15 million monthly Spotify listeners – outranking the likes of Arctic Monkeys, Foo Fighters, Kings Of Leon, The 1975, Muse and Radiohead – and continue to straddle the line between the old and new (albeit, just 16% of Wonderful Wonderful’s sales were from streaming). But it’s not a subject Flowers is losing any sleep over.
“It’s kind of out of our hands,” he shrugs. “It’s interesting to watch it happen – Napster was just making headlines when we were starting, so it was in its infancy and it seems like there is no going back. Sometimes I’ll get a statistic and hear how many people are streaming you per month and it’s amazing. But my heart goes out to a young band that have to prove their statistics before they get a certain amount of attention from their record label. I’m a lucky one because our foot was already in the door.”
Vannucci is hopeful rock music can re-establish itself as a mainstream force. “Everything is cyclical,” he says. “I really hope there is a resurgence.”
The band’s 2013 compilation Direct Hits (752,492 sales) remains ingrained in the albums chart, due in no small part to their cross-generational anthem Mr Brightside (3,212,710 sales!), incredibly still a fixture of the Top 100 almost 17 years after it was first released.
“The strength and depth of their hits over more than a decade clearly keeps winning over new audiences week in and week out,” observes EMI’s Cawley. “Stick it on, I’d be amazed if you skip any of those tracks and also if you manage to resist the urge to crack open an ice cold cider or foamy lager of choice to enjoy it with.”
With the globe in such a state of flux, questions about the future can seem misguided, but Flowers’ ambition is undimmed.
“We were just about to go on our biggest tour that we’ve ever gone on. I was really looking forward to that and I’m still looking forward to that,” he says. “But I just want to evolve and keep getting better. I have started to notice that songs are coming easier as I get older and as I write more and exercise these muscles that I’ve developed over the years. So I’m really looking forward to the next decade and it’s something that I’m definitely on top of.”
“I just trust that we’ll make better and better records,” offers Vannucci. “That is our objective right now – trying to do good with what we’re given.”
Sommer’s thoughts are naturally fixed on the live arena. “We have multiple global options held but refrained from putting anything further on sale to preserve the cash flow of our fans and ultimately be mindful of everyone’s health and safety,” he says. “Once we have more visibility and a better handle on timing we will be ready to go. The guys thrive in the live setting and I know they can’t wait to get back out there and perform some of these great new songs.”
“Every tour cycle has been more successful than the last,” finishes Reynolds, who already has one eye on LP number seven. “Nobody is ready to rest on any laurels,” he insists. “I can’t drop any names, but let me just say that one of the top three Killers songs ever written is on the next album. It’s the best of early Killers while staying fresh and reflecting their development as a band. I can’t wait for the world to hear it.”
EMI is bidding to keep both the band and Imploding The Mirage at the forefront of people’s minds through the end of the year, with a view to a second promotional push around the rescheduled stadium dates.
“There’s plenty of quality in there,” sums up Cawley. “It all feels very much like they are cementing themselves even deeper in the history books of greatness.”
Maybe 2020 will still be their year after all...

The Brightside of life: The Killers reflect on Glastonbury 2019

How The Killers defied the odds to conquer Glastonbury 2019...
It was one of the greatest nights of their careers, but The Killers’ second time around headlining Glastonbury was not always a surefire home run.
The band came into last year’s festival cold and off-cycle, with no new music to promote, having wrapped up their Wonderful Wonderful tour the previous autumn. But the chance to right the wrongs of their Pyramid Stage headline debut 12 years earlier was too good to turn down.
“I don’t recall exactly when it became a real possibility, but I had been gently petting at the potential opportunity for many months knowing the [50th] anniversary year would be forthcoming and we already had our own pure outdoor headline plan for 2020,” reveals WME’s Kirk Sommer. “I knew if given the opportunity it was something we could not refuse, it was one of the biggest and most credible televised music events in the world to spring-load the next album tour campaign with. There was a little healthy discourse around it given the unique timing but they ultimately said, ‘Let’s do it’.”
Brandon Flowers admits he took some persuading to get on board. “My first thought when we were asked was to say no,” he admits. “We were in the middle of downtime and it was a little nerve wracking to be thrown into it like that. But our people rallied behind the idea and them having that faith helped us and it ended up being a great experience.”
“We’re always doubting ourselves,” says Ronnie Vannucci. “We always want to be delivering something new and fresh and we were worried that, having been [in the UK] such a short time before Glastonbury, we were a little at risk of overstaying our welcome.”
The night was an unequivocal triumph, propelling Direct Hits 66-5 in the charts in the wake of the performance, with an immense 323.4% week-on-week sales increase. Ironically, after their 2007 bow was marred by sound issues, the 2019 gig was reportedly the loudest in the event’s history.
Both band members consider the show, which saw them joined by childhood idols Pet Shop Boys and Johnny Marr for the climactic encore, an all-time live highlight.
“I really believe it’s No.1,” grins Flowers. “Not to downplay any other experience along the way, but it’s such an iconic gig. I equate it with something like the Wimbledon final or the Super Bowl and I was so happy with the outcome. The crowd were great and we were a well-oiled machine. We were able to celebrate our career and pay a nod to a couple of our heroes and inspirations. Talk about the stars aligning, they did for us that night.”
An excerpt from Fran Healy's interview in the same issue:
I came to co-write The Killers single Here With Me with Brandon Flowers because…
“We hit it off many, many years ago. He’s amazing. He came to a show that we played with Oasis in Las Vegas and it was a very memorable show for him. All his band members were there, independently of him, before they were in The Killers. I did a solo record in 2010 and I asked Brandon if I could support him on his solo tour, just over in America, so I travelled about and slept in a bunk on his tour bus for a few days. One night, I came in at the back of the bus and went, ‘Oh shit, I’m sorry, man’. He was like, ‘No, come in. I’m writing this song’. He played the melody and I was like, ‘Can I make a suggestion?’ And then we wrote it together. I basically barged into his songwriting session and elbowed my way in.”
Music Week

Wrestling Observer Rewind ★ Feb. 1, 1988


1-4-1988	1-11-1988	1-18-1988	1-25-1988

The Bunkhouse Stampede Finals and Royal Rumble are in the books, and as a head-to-head it’s best described as a stalemate. Neither show is what Dave would consider among the best cards he’s ever seen, and from the perspective of a tv viewer they were about what you’d expect. No strong overall lineup for either, and what was delivered wasn’t spectacular either. WWF had the edge in glitz, but not as much as usual because of the live factor meaning they couldn’t rely on post-production editing tricks. Here’s a sentence that describes a typical Raw today: “The three-hour show had too many replays and looked like it may have dragged in spots if you were there live.” Dave’s gotten some word from people who were there for the Bunkhouse finals live, and all rated it terribly as a live experience. From the tv viewer perspective, though, it was better than Starrcade despite some major issues (Dave says they owe the audience an explanation for why the Rock & Roll Express and Steve Williams were absent, as well as for the lack of Mike Rotunda vs. Sting which was pushed on WTBS half an hour before the show).
Dave’s tired of writing a lot of the same complaints about NWA, but they do seem to be responding to fans. They’re going to start showing the finishes to matches that go off the air on the following week’s show and have made changes to the announce desk. Jim Ross did a great job on ppv and toned back on calling every match an all-time classic like he did at Starrcade. But there were eight no-shows among the wrestlers and on Thursday night they had a terrible show in Los Angeles. Most of the no-shows were guys they pulled from the card to save money on flights. The Bunkhouse Finals were advertised with a 7 pm start time, but many of the tickets had 8 pm printed on them, and the show itself actually started at 6:35. Pm and ended at 9 pm, so those arriving at 8 missed most of the show. Not all the no-shows can be blamed on the promotion (Mighty Wilbur got injured, Rock & Roll Express appear to have up and quit), but some kind of explanation needs to be made for the fans. Between all that, getting chants of “Refund” after the Stampede and Dusty getting booed (which fans watching on tv heard) when he won the finals, NWA has significantly hurt its position in two of the biggest markets in the country in LA and New York. They’re making changes, slowly, but some changes need to be made or they’re going to sink. NWA fans come for action, but you can’t get the kind of action the fans want with the schedule they’re running (contrast to WWF which can get by with less action because their guys are seen as stars and the fans want to see the stars). Doing cross-country double shots on weekends is killing NWA, and they need to make new stars. Turning Flair face, since he’s more popular than almost anyone else, isn’t even something to do right now because Luger’s turn is in full throttle and they don’t have a heel to take up the slack. They could turn Dusty heel and have him feud with the Road Warriors, but they won’t.
In the past few weeks, NWA has managed to lose several guys they really shouldn’t have. Terry Taylor is gone apparently because the office had it in for him because of when he left the promotion in 1985. Big Bubba Rogers had become a good worker and had a great gimmick going, but WWF poached him. Rock and Roll Express apparently quit because they were unhappy about their push (though Dave thinks despite their ability and work, they’ve been on borrowed time for nine months now). Dave gives Steve Williams 50/50 odds of coming back and just kind of gestures to UWF as explanation. Sean Royal quit, and Chris Champion, Eddie Gilbert, and Brad Armstrong are all but disappeared. And more are looking to get out. Dave hates writing all this stuff about what Crockett’s doing wrong on the front page, especially when he’s been talking about it for months, and especially because he’s a fan of the NWA. He wouldn’t classify himself as a fan of WWF, but they’ve earned his respect with what they’ve done to take the business to another level and in the next two months he expects them to blow the whole wrestling business wide open. But WWF’s success isn’t the reason for NWA’s problems. WWF doing counterprogramming has made Crockett earn less money than he would have unopposed, and Dusty probably books himself the way he does because he knows WWF won’t steal him (spoilers: WWF gets Dusty in just over a year) and it’s hard to leave the limelight, but WWF isn’t the reason for most of Crockett’s issues.
According to the newspapers this morning, Wrestlemania IV will take place in Atlantic City’s Convention Center. Capacity is 16,000. There were rumblings of Vince being close to a deal in Vegas for either UNLV Gym or Caesar’s Palace, so Atlantic City’s a surprise. Wrestlemania is going to be more focused on ppv than closed-circuit this year, apparently. But most of the audience can’t get ppv, so they’ll still need closed-circuit in major cities.
Two weeks after Wrestlemania will be the Crockett Cup. Place is to be announced, and Dave thinks it’s high time Crockett re-establishes working relationships with at least one or two other North American promotions in order to help make the Cup a big event. They just don’t have the talent roster this year to get away with doing otherwise.
A correction on Starrcade: Dave reported a 6.6 percent buy-rate, but the reality was a 3.3 percent buy-rate. Dave heard they got 20,000 buys and just assumed it was of the 300,000 homes available on cable, but forgot to factor in the 300,000 homes it was also available in via satellite. Dave’s received reports that there were 6 million potential homes for the Bunkhouse finals, but that seems high to him. Even matching the buyrate of Starrcade at that number would mean over $3 million in gross revenue, and Dave doesn’t think they were remotely close to that.

- Anyway, Dave goes through the Bunkhouse finals. An estimated 7,000 were in the arena, and the dark match was Sting and Jimmy Garvin beating the Sheepherders by DQ. Nikita Koloff retained the NWA TV title against Bobby Eaton in a 20 minute draw. -2 stars. Larry Zbyszko beat Barry Windham for the Western States Title, with the match starting slow and getting very good in the last ten minutes. 3.5 stars. Road Warrior Hawk beat Ric Flair by DQ in the NWA World Title match. 3.75 stars. Dusty Rhodes won the Bunkhouse Stampede finals. Lots of blood, a lot of guys going the distance you wouldn’t expect to have the stamina to do so (the match was 26 minutes long), and it was exactly what was promised and was good stuff. 3 stars.

Watch: a brief clip of the bunkhouse finals

- As for the Royal Rumble, the crowd appeared to be nearly sold out with almost 18,000 in attendance. Ricky Steamboat beat Rick Rude by DQ. Heavy with rest holds and stalling before the final two minutes had them trading near falls constantly and getting good heat from it. 2 stars. The Jumping Bomb Angels won the WWF Women’s Tag Titles from the Glamour Girls in a 2/3 falls match. They started behind with Judy Martin getting the first fall, then the Angels won two straight falls with each Angel pinning Judy Martin (sunset flip and double missile dropkicks, respectively). It was a good match, but not great - the Angels missed a lot of moves and seemed to be out of shape. 3 stars. Jum Duggan won the Royal Rumble, last eliminating One Man Gang. The match was much better than Dave anticipated, and the match went on roughly at the same time as the Bunkhouse finals match. Better camera work in it, and Dave notes that WWF seems to have fudged the two minute intervals after a bit. 3.5 stars. The Islanders beat the Young Stallions (Paul Roma and Jim Powers; Dave’s nickname for them is The Barbie Dolls) in two straight falls. He makes a weird joke about a submission actually working on a pushed guy (Haku submitted Roma with a Boston crab) making him go out for “Oriental food” afterwards because it was so surprising. I’m too confused to even know what to make of the line. 2.5 stars.

Watch: the finish to the 1988 Royal Rumble match

Outside the matches, Royal Rumble had some other stuff. Andre and Hogan had a contract signing for the Main Event, where Andre slammed Hogan’s head into the table and pushed the table onto him. Dave’s amazed people buy Hogan as a face, because there’s just something naturally dislikable about people who act the way Hogan does and he thinks Vince could probably get Lee Harvey Oswald over as a face. Dino Bravo attempted to set a world bench press record. Of course, the weights were as legit as the half a million dollars Dusty supposedly won, but Bravo’s supposedly able to bench over 600 lbs legit. Jesse Ventura helped him with “715 lbs” and then claimed he didn’t help at all (the Road Warriors are scheduled to bench on the 30th and were originally planned to use legit weights, but they’ll have to use bogus weights to keep from looking weak next to WWF’s monsters now). Anyway, now they’ll bill Bravo as unofficial bench record holder, and that should get him heat because of the obvious cheating.
Next up then for WWF is The Main Event on February 5. Dave’s told not to worry about Andre, because his back is in much better shape than last year. He and Hogan are practicing daily and have worked out the gist of the match. Dave says you can be sure to expect Ted DiBiase to interfere somehow on the 5th.
Stampede is continuing to do good business and nearly selling out all their big shows. Chris Benoit and Great Gama get 4 stars (from Trent Walters, who I guess submitted the reports for the matches in Edmonton) for their Commonwealth Title match from January 9 in Edmonton.
[Stampede] Jason the Terrible has been made an “honorary member” of Bad Company, Bruce Hart and Brian Pillman’s tag team. So now in addition to the hockey mask he’s also got sunglasses over the hockey mask and a bandana and a black leather jacket. The whole getup is hilarious.
Do you remember Central States? Mike George won the WWA World Title tournament on January 23. They had 800 fans. Match ended on blood stoppage.
Speaking of blood, Keiji Mutoh is headed to Puerto Rico.
Tatsumi Fujinami and Kengo Kimura won the IWGP World Tag Titles from Yoshiaki Fujiwara and Kazuo Yamazaki on January 18. Riki Choshu and Super Strong Machine were originally slated to face the tag champs, but Choshu injured his knee and had to miss the match. Dave expects Choshu and Machine to face Fujinami and Kimura on February 7. He then goes on about how bad Choshu’s luck has been lately. Dave thinks he was supposed to win the tournament, except the Maeda shoot happened, and he was definitely supposed to win the tag titles (the match was scheduled for his hometown and New Japan actually does nice things for wrestlers in front of their home audiences). And with all the work they’ve put into getting Choshu on tv, it’s surprising they’ve phased him down the card so much from where he was.
Lots of stuff about Vader’s look in New Japan. On December 27 he wore long tights and had Road Warrior Hawk’s hair, and it didn’t get him over at all. On January 4 he had a mask and full bodysuit to hide his size. January 11 saw him ditch the bodysuit and keep the mask. The evolution of a mastodon, I guess.
Antonio Inoki began negotiations with Fuji TV after TV Asahi scheduled NJPW tv to move to midnight Mondays, and TV Asahi caved. They’ll now be on a 5 pm Saturday time slot. It’s not as good as their old Monday evening slot, but it’s not a death slot like midnight Monday.
Akira Maeda turned down NJPW’s plan to have him go to the U.S. Also, he and NJPW are fighting over his contract. They offered him a new contract for 1988 with a 15% pay cut and he’s not willing to sign it.
There are rumors that Inoki will wrestle Koji Kitao (the sumo wrestler mentioned a few weeks back) at the Tokyo Dome in April. Kitao is 24 years old and 6’5.5”, weighing 345 lbs. The story of his exit from Sumo is he apparently lost his temper and started kicking one of his sponsors (who is 92 years old) and the knocked his stable master’s wife through a sliding door. Dave’s been told if this match does happen, it could draw very big. Kitao is denying he’s going into wrestling (nope). Kitao was made a yokozuna in 1986, just before he turned 23, because the sumo hierarchy felt they needed a new young star to create interest in the younger generation of fans. But Kitao liked the party lifestyle and didn’t care for tradition, and sumo does not tolerate that. But you can’t demote a yokozuna, and that made him controversial (it would turn out that most of this was made up because Kitao’s stablemaster didn’t like him and felt he was underperforming and wanted him out - more on Kitao’s sumo years here if you want to read it). Turns out sumo is kind of worked too, though not as much as pro wrestling.
All Japan is promoting a “Martial Arts Olympic” show on April 2 at Sumo Hall, to feature all kinds of stuff. Tiger Mask II and Giant Baba will team against some foreigners, Japan Women’s Pro Wrestling (the group running against AJW) will have two matches on the show (Miss A vs. Harley Saito and Rumi Kazama vs. Xochitl Hamada). There will be boxing, kick boxing, the original Tiger Mask Satoru Sayama’s “shooting” sport he invented, shoot boxing (boxing + wrestling with gloves), and more. The whole show is being billed as a memorial service to Ikki Kajiwara, who created the Tiger Mask cartoon and comic.
When baseball season starts, All Japan’s tv will be moved to 10:30-11:30 pm Sunday nights. Usually they get moved to Saturday afternoon during baseball season, and this shift will lose Baba lots of money and viewers.
While Crockett and McMahon ran big shows on January 24, Giant Baba met with their rivals in Las Vegas. Baba’s plan in the U.S. is to send his guys, as well as Bruiser Brody, Abdullah the Butcher, Jimmy Snuka, Stan Hansen, and Terry Gordy to smaller promotions to help them fight against the big two.
Dave finally saw Hennig vs. Tiger Mask II. Not terrible, but no heat and little action, he thinks. Meanwhile, John Tenta’s improving well, and Baba seems high on Akira Taue, though he’s so new it’s hard to guess what kind of future he has.
[AJW] Yukai Omori’s retirement show will be on February 15. This was announced after her January 15 world title match with Chigusa Nagayo, where she said if she couldn’t win the title she was ending her career. They went 32 minutes to a double count out in the ring after both collapsed.
[Memphis] Lawler vs. Hennig for the AWA Title on January 18 had Lawler’s ring on the line as well. Hennig promised to give his dad the ring if he won, and Larry Hennig was there. The Axe helped Curt win, and Curt gave him the ring, but Lalwer stole it back.
Memphis local prelim wrestler Jerry Bryant has been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease.
Global Wrestling in Florida somehow turned what was an awful live show on January 22 into a good tv show. They taped on Friday night and by Sunday had it polished up into a good looking product. The miracles of post-production. Issues with the live show included starting 30 minutes late, long delays between matches, the ring mic not working, and bad wrestlers. What they lack in wrestling talent, though, they make up for in knowing how to make a tv show that’s on the level of World Class and better than Crockett or AWA.
Continental (Alabama) did a bench press contest between Lord Humongous (not Sid, but Gary Nation) and Doug Furnas. They fudged the weights here, as Humongous did 645 lbs and then Furnas did it twice (his best in competition has been 600) before Humongous pushed the bar down on Furnas and “injured his ribs.”
Apparently the Observer was mentioned positively in the Detroit News by Justice B. Hill in the January 17 issue.
Since Dave started writing this issue, he’s been flooded with fans writing about the Bunkhouse finals. The reaction he’s gotten has largely been negative, with those there live being extra negative about it. Crockett really needs to reserve three hours for the next time they do ppv - going too short pisses the fans off, and ppv viewers expected the show to last past 9 pm. Another difference between WWF and NWA is that WWF always gets their hottest acts on the mic at some point during ppvs and big live specials (twice in the case of Hogan and DiBiase at Royal Rumble), while at Starrcade they didn’t have Flair, Dusty, or Cornette talk once. Instead Jim Garvin gave the worst promo of his career, Michael Hayes was quiet for the first time ever, and they shoved Steve Williams and Nikita Koloff on the mic for some reason. At the Bunkhouse Finals they had no interviews, and getting mic time for Flair or Dusty or Luger while they set up the cage would have been a big help. More of Dave wondering when Crockett will realize they’ve killed the credibility of their world champion and thus killed the drawing power of the belt.
Michael Hayes has apparently quit Crockett and everyone expects him to go back to World Class. And if Steve Williams doesn’t come back, they’ll probably just forget about the UWF Title entirely rather than doing a unification match.
A couple letters this week requesting that Dave keep up the coverage of wrestling in Japan. Another couple letters praising how good Stampede has been lately. Canada and Japan, bringing us the best in wrestling.
Another letter writer asks Dave to realize how offensive it is to refer to a wrestling match as “a total abortion” and to consider that he’s probably offended many female readers of the newsletter. Dave apologizes and says he’ll stop using the term, before doing a “well, actually” bit. It’s a kind of weird response. Judge it for yourselves.

I apologize for that one and will quit using the term. Actually the term abortion for a bad match is a business term just like jobber, mark, babyface and the rest. But there are a few business terms (mainly for ethnic wrestlers and ethnic fans) which are in bad taste that I don’t use, so I’ll add that one to the list.

Tickets for Wrestlemania IV go on sale January 30. The best 2000 seats in the Convention Center are being reserved as freebies for casino high rollers. And as a heads up, this is the location it does take place at. They called it Trump Plaza Hotel and Casino during the show, but it’s the same building. More on that as we get to Wrestlemania.
If Dave can find the space next week, he’s going to talk about whether or not “30 minute matches which ‘tell a story’” work for today’s fans. He really enjoyed the Windham/Blanchard match on tv but there was no crowd reaction, so he’s beginning to wonder if this is even a style that resonates anymore.
Everyone’s asking Dave for predictions about Hogan vs. Andre. So here’s his prediction (and he is way off on many parts of this):

DiBiase will interfere and Andre will pin Hogan on 2/5, however Jack Tunney will prove he can’t be bought and hold the title up so Ted doesn’t get the title, and order a rematch in a cage at WM4 so Ted can’t interfere (and also so Andre can lose without doing a job). Hulk will win on a fluke, and they’ll run Hulk vs. Andre over the summer in your local cities after Hulk gets back from playing Hulk Hogan in the movies.

”There was a clip in Detroit about Hogan, saying that ‘he’s nice[r] than Kirk Gibson, but not by much.’” Gibson’s reputation is of being a total asshole to fans, especially kids.
Crockett is billing FlaiAnderson vs. LugeWindham on Feb. 6 as the first time Flair goes against Lex anywhere. It’s forgivable to forget Lex’s Florida days, but they’ve got FlaiBlanchard vs. LugeRhodes booked for February 2.
Apparently Road Warrior Hawk’s neo-nazi line is just a quote from The Breakfast Club. Okay. So I guess the first letter writer was mishearing him and he’s saying “Neo-maxi-zoom dweebie”? TVtropes gives us this, from the October 3, 1987 episode of NWA World Championship Wrestling: HAWK: "WELL, Tony Schiavone, There Are Two Kinds Of People, as far as me and Animal are concerned. Clamheads and Neo-Maxi Zoom Dweebies." (the Road Warriors consider themselves the latter). And corroborating with the WWE Network, yeah, the line comes through pretty clear. Network 4 minutes in, and yeah, he’s not calling himself a neo-nazi. Definitely an error by that letter writer, and what a weird line for Hawk of all people to utter.

THURSDAY: WWF’s Big Four are born; The Main Event; Rock & Roll Express, Michael Hayes, and Steve Williams update; Tenryu wins all the awards in Japan; and more

Deadline for public comments on filling wetlands @ Woodlands = Tomorrow June 18

Below is a collection of notices & comments from Nextdoor, etc.
https://nextdoor.com/news_feed/?post=150393141
From Wyandotte County Administrator's Office, Public Information Officer Unified Government
June 3, 2020
Woodlands Property For Sale. Las Vegas casino owner Phil Ruffin has put the former Woodlands racetrack facility up for sale.
Ruffin bought the several hundred-acre property near Leavenworth Road and I-435 five years ago with plans to reopen the horse track and add a facility with slot machines.
The Unified Government supported those efforts for the past several years, but the Kansas Legislature did not approve needed changes to the Kansas gaming law which would have made reopening the facility profitable.
Ruffin is tentatively selling the land to Scannell Properties which proposes building a one-million square foot warehouse distribution facility and office park with retail development on the corner of the former racetrack land.
Scannell Properties, based in Indianapolis, is a private real estate development firm with more than 300 development projects totaling more than 63-million square feet in 44 states and Canadian provinces.
When the sale is completed, Scannell plans to demolish the crumbling horse and dog tracks later this summer, with the new distribution center opening next year. The distribution facility is expected to create 1,000 new jobs.
70 acres between the new facility and Wyandotte County Lake will be reserved for green space and public walking trails.
The project plans are being reviewed by the Unified Government, State of Kansas, and Army Corps of Engineers. Advancement of the proposed plans will require a local public hearing and approval action by the Unified Government.
http://wyandottedaily.com/corps-of-engineers-kdhe-taking-public-comments-on-woodlands-project/
Here’s how you get a copy of the notice and who you direct those comments to:

Brian Donahue [email protected] (816) 389-3703 U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Kansas City Regulatory Office 635 Federal Building 601 East 12th Street Kansas City, Missouri, 64106

It asks to reference permit application No. NWK-2020-348 in all comments and/or inquiries relating to this project.
Public Notice is just to fill the 2.34 acres of emergent wetland within the project area (to prep for the construction of a 1+ million square foot commercial warehouse facility, etc), not for the whole project.
Either way, I'm not sure we should fill the wetlands before we've had our voices heard about the overall project, so I'll still be requesting a public hearing.
https://usace.contentdm.oclc.org/utils/getfile/collection/p16021coll7/id/14409
to get approval for the water quality certification to move forward with the project. Petitioning against it may not mean they abandon the project but I think it’s worth it to have a public hearing. At the very least the citizens of the county should have a voice in what goes there if it threatens water quality and water run off.
To request one, we must write to Brian and outline our specific concerns regarding filling the 2.34 acres of emergent wetland within the project area. While they do take into account public interest, their focus (as the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers) is to determine the environmental impacts of filling the wetlands.
They will grant a public hearing if they think they can learn new things about the environmental impact from the community.
In typical WYCO fashion there is no effort to openly inform the citizens. This has obviously been in action for a long time and we're finding out 2 weeks before the meeting and that info wasn't disclosed in yesterday's public information release it had to be tracked down by a private concerned citizen. Pathetic way to do things but if you're doing things not in the best interest of the people then not informing us untill after is the way WYCO does it.
Bennett Lake feeds Bennett Creek that flows past the old Ranger Station and into the Wyco Lake. Will this dry up the creek? Lots of folks fish in the creek.
Remember they've been wanting to build at the lake and you watch they will sneak it in. 30 years ago "Friends of the Lake" was formed to fight the county who tried to sneak in commercial development. It was almost needed to be reformed last year when the UG began opening plats up for sale. Now, it seems the time has come.
From what I understand they have already plotted the lots out at the lake. My neighbors got the letter letting them know.. it is already happening.. forsale signs will be popping up shortly.
A warehouse and trucking operation in the middle of residential and the lake.
WYCO has a warehouse district. It's called Fairfax -- With lots of empty places to use.
We need more green space. Too many office buildings are vacant, taking up to much space everywhere.. just sitting there empty. I'm sure this will all become another burden to the taxpayers of WYCO.
Run-off from the Legends already negatively affects properties in Edwardsville.
The creeks in Edwardsville have widened and deepened because of the extra run-off. Homes have been affected and businesses have closed on 98th street.
It is currently under contract for 20 million dollars. On the bright side, at least something is happening. The bad side, it’s a trucking warehouse. As a realtor, I worry about the the home values in the area. Nothing is finalized and it could all fall through. Nothing is signed right now. Me suggestion to homeowners is try to sell your house now while the market is hot. The surrounding neighborhoods will take a hit if a trucking warehouse goes in, in my opinion.
WYCO does not need any more failures ie Schlitterbahn which was not even 1/10th the development promised, T-bones stadium mismanaged and allowed to fall into debt and bankruptcy, Land of Oz - That was a big scam Bpu big shots pulled over on us while they made money.
Private pockets get lined every time something is proposed or built. Anyone who believes that our elected officials are doing anything to benefit the people needs to start researching every negative fact based article ever written starting soon after they refused GM from building. Elected representatives need to spend their time serving the people and not naming streets and community centers after themselves.
businesses at Legends didn't have to pay taxes for a couple years. That's why new places move in to Legends and couple years later move out when they have to start paying taxes
Even though elsewhere more commercial real estate lowers residential real estate taxes, doesn't work that way in Wyco the property taxes keep going up. The only ones who benefit are the businesses/companies that get all kinds of financial rewards and decades-long tax breaks to come here and then leave when they have gotten all they can get and of course the "good old boys" who make it happen. Meanwhile our taxes go up every year.
Put something there as long as there isn't any type of incentives given. It's getting ridiculous giving a bunch of money to companies to get them to develop here or anywhere for that matter.
The property cannot be fixed up for gaming as the state wanted more profit than what the facility needed to keep it running, and they refused to open it up fairly to gaming like other facilities in the state were allowed. It was a shame when Woodlands closed but it is much worse driving by property and seeing the decay it had become. A 1,000 jobs would help our community by bringing in tax money.
However, I do not have confidence on follow through with agreements with UGWYCO. Remember Schlitterbahn? Was supposed to use local people to build and operate. Our Laborers had to strike and still UGWYCO allowed construction to proceed, delivering nothing like what was promised.

Naima

Naima
She was going to buy diapers. They were having a sale at Kroger and she was woefully unprepared for how expensive they were, how expensive everything to do with babies was. Mary had her first, and as of now, only child just six months ago. It might as well have been six years at this point. The rumors were true, any hope of sleep was abandoned long ago. Maurice did what he could to help out, he loved feeding their little girl and didn’t mind when she spontaneously vomited on his shirt, or if he did he never showed it.
They named the girl Naima, after Maurice’s grandmaw who passed away the day her namesake came into the world. Naima made it to her grandmaw’s funeral where she screamed and cried every second of the service. Mary however was absent. Everyone understood. Her labor wasn’t easy, a grueling sixteen hours of push and breathe, sweat running down her arms and legs in rivulets. They all agreed that a funeral was no place for a woman to be after giving birth just four days ago. But at Easter, Mary was certain they all looked at her a bit different now, like she had failed an important exam and her commitment to the family was thrown into question.
The parking lot was nearly deserted, it being almost 10 o'clock at night. She had meant to go earlier in the day, had even set an alarm on her phone to remind herself, but Naima was sick. Mary thought she was sick. She was mostly sure she was sick. She hadn’t eaten anything that day except for a few brown lumps of applesauce that later came out the other end virtually the same. Mary wasn’t scared yet but the anxiety, the vision of rushing to her family doctor only to be told once again that “this is normal Mrs. Hader, happens all the time, she just needs a bit of rest,” was ever present on her mind. She hated that place, hated the smell of it. When she herself was a little girl the atmospheres of hospitals, clinics, dentist offices, all revolted her. The snarky look of the woman behind the counter, watching another new mother panic over a little diarrhea, it was all a bit too much to bear. She tossed an Ativan quickly into her mouth and locked the car door.
She checked her phone. No texts from Maurice. He would be working late tonight, they’d been giving him the night shift at the hospital for months now. Even when he got off early he would head to the gun range to “get his aim ready for the apocalypse.” The baby was taking a strain on him. He held up well, remarkably well, better than she had. Naima was the love of her life, as well as the bottomless well where she tossed in every waking hour of her day. Sure she could maybe leave her alone here and there, she was six months after all, but she knew that within ten minutes the screaming and crying would start and there’d she be, holding the squirming mass to her breast.
She squinted at the glaring white lights of the store and swung her grocery bag from side to side, not thinking about where she was going as she walked towards the Personal Care aisle. She passed colorful packages of tissues, toothpaste, and tampons, and studied the boxes of diapers, selecting what she gathered was the medium tier.
Down the aisle there was a young man looking at conditioner. He was rubbing his mouth and kept looking back and forth from his phone to the bottles.
“Having trouble?” she said
“I guess so. I’m supposed to get something with coconut oil, but there’s like five of them with that.”
“Do what I do.”
“What’s that?” She picked up a nondescript bottle and put it in his hands.
“Get the cheapest,” she said.
He laughed a little at this, “I like the way you think. Who are those for?” he said, pointing to the box in her hand.
“Naima- or uh, my daughter.”
“Bit late to be running out for that.” She didn’t quite like that, but he gave her a quick sympathetic smile that she returned.
“Yeah I was going to earlier but you know how it is,” she started walking back down the aisle.
“I can help you,” the man said, his voice even.
She stopped and turned back to him. He was still looking at her nicely enough, his eyes almost seemed to be scanning her.
“Excuse me, I have to go.”
She turned and started walking back again. Suddenly much more aware of how empty the store was at this time. She didn’t hear him follow, just the sound of her own flip flops hitting the floor a bit faster than normal. She cast a glance over at the two employees by the service kiosk who were chatting away, hardly even noticing her. She wanted to be through self check out and back in her car as quickly as possible. Would she tell Maurice about it? No, probably not. He’d get worried, and he already had so much to deal with.
The self checkout machine blared out to her in its automated voice, asking if she had a membership card. She cursed it silently and quickly scanned the box of diapers, leaving well before the receipt was curling out of the slot. In the black reflection of the plate glass windows of the store she saw the man calmly scanning the bottle of conditioner. Her heart beat a little louder in her ears, she hadn’t even heard him walking up. She kept her eyes fixed on his reflection as she walked out the sliding doors.
The night air was humid and hung still. Across the parking lot a car sat by a stop sign, its red brake lights casting a faint glow on her face. Her little Hyundai was parked thirty yards away. She put her phone up to her ear and pretended to be talking to someone, a trick she had learned in college. This soothed her anxiety a bit, not as much as the Atavil would when she got back into her car, but enough for now. She crossed the lane in front of the store and her footsteps echoed across the empty lot. Twenty yards away. Behind her she heard the sliding door open again, and she began to walk a little faster. Fifteen yards now. She thought she heard someone behind her but she couldn’t be sure, she was too afraid to look. At ten yards her heart was racing in her chest, it was hard to hear anything else. She took out her keys, gripping them tightly in her hands, trying to calm herself down. Her legs felt rubbery and weak, her eyes were hot. She made herself turn.
He was standing ten feet away, silhouetted by the dim yellow street light just above and behind him. He looked bigger, much bigger than he did in the store, and he wasn’t moving. Her mind tried to project a face, an identity onto the dark human cut-out before her. She could feel his eyes staring back at her, all over her. He moved towards her. She was yanking at the handle of the driver side door. She didn’t remember moving to get there. The handle pulled but with no click of the opening latch, she forgot to unlock the car. A quiet moan escaped her as she looked up into the reflection of the window and saw that dark figure raise its hand to the back of her head and with sudden force, thrust her head against the side of the door frame.
The first thing she noticed was that she was on her back. There was something covering her eyes, it felt soft but was wrapped tight around her head which made the aching pain in her forehead protest even louder. Worse than the pain was the smell. Wherever she was the air smelled cold and closed in, damp, stale. It smelled like overripe cucumbers. She could feel something crawling up her calf and tried to shake it off but her legs were bound tight to what felt like a cold metal table. She went to move her hand to brush it off but her arms were trapped just as her legs, with straps like the ones they used to restrain mentally ill patients.
Naima. The word flashed in her head like a big red neon sign outside a Las Vegas casino. The baby, my baby, she’s all alone. God I only left her for ten minutes. Hot tears wet the cloth over her eyes and ran down the side of her face. She thought about screaming but she was too upset, too scared, too confused to do so. Instead she started hyperventilating. She could hear herself gasping, the pressure building up inside here like a crescendo of panic and fear. Her mind flashed to the prescription bottle of Ativan in her car. God, where was her car? Where was she? What was crawling up her leg?
“You need to relax,” a voice said, and this time she did scream.
“Where’s my baby?!”
“Wherever you left- it?”
“Oh Jesus, what are you doing? Let me go, please let me go let me go let me go let me-”
“It was easy to get you here,” said the voice that she could hear slowly orbiting around her. “Dark parking lot in the middle of the night. You should know better. You weren’t even carrying pepper spray, I know, I checked your bag.”
Mary strained against the straps, against the pain in her head, and against the creeping thing that was now marching slowly up her thigh. She began to sob.
“Your head must be killing you,” said the voice in a quiet, comforting way. “I’m sorry I had to do… what I did. I was scared you would get away.”
“Why are you doing this,” Mary said in between sobs, almost screaming. “What the fuck do you want!?”
“You. I want you.” The voice was quiet for a time. The crawling thing was onto her canvas shorts now but she didn’t notice. “I think you’re beautiful, so beautiful, almost perfect. I want to help you become... immaculate. You’re so close. I don’t want you to worry about your head, you’ll never see a scar, I’m good at what I do. You’ll never see.”
Before she could respond her phone erupted somewhere distant in the room. It must have been sitting on a table because she could hear a loud buzzing sound. The voice growled in rage and rushed away, a moment later she heard a loud crack that must have been her phone flung shattering against the floor. Her mind tried to gauge how long she had been down here. She could feel the dried blood pulling on the skin of her forehead, maybe a couple hours at the most. Maurice would be home soon, he could take care of the baby, Naima must be screaming loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Somewhere in the back of her head she thought she could hear her infant child wailing in the distance. Almost as if he read her mind, the man said:
“Please don’t try to scream. No one can hear you down here, it’s just you and I now. But you won’t be down here long. I won’t leave you down here with all these nasty little things.”
She heard a quiet crushing sound, like stepping on a pine cone, and the cucumber smell increased. She was much more aware of the creeping crawling sensation that by now was exploring her exposed midriff. Suddenly his hands were on her, one of them resting gently on her thigh, the other plucking up what was just over her navel. In the darkness under her blindfold she could feel the air being displaced as his hand moved it towards her mouth.
“Kiss?”
And she could feel its antennae frantically probing her lips, its spindly legs scratching them, it released it’s pheromones and the stench made her gag, making a gurgling sound that contrasted sickeningly with the tittering laughter of the man still holding the bug to her face. She would scream but she was afraid if she opened her mouth he would drop it in. The smell was everywhere, in her mouth, in her nose, in her brain. She didn’t sense his hand pull away. She had concentrated every ounce of her being into not throwing up and only distantly heard the sound of the man crushing the insect between his fingers. Then he was back, squeezing her jaw with more force than she thought he possessed and said quietly:
“I will help you.”
He took off the blindfold.
The light that shown in her eyes was blinding but in time she was able to focus on the large mechanical arm, like the ones dentists used, that beamed light down into her face. She gagged again when she saw three stink bugs crawling lazily across its surface, had they been crawling all along her when she was unconscious? She peered around the room. Everything else was bathed in darkness, the vague outline of a shelf, a washing machine, and what looked like a set of ancient narrow stairs leading up out of the basement. To her right she heard the clinking silverware sound and she could see the man hunched over a long metal table.
“I’m sorry for the delay, I just want to make sure everything is done correctly. Co-rrect-ly. You’ll be happy to know I use anaesthetic now. It’s much quieter, easier for both of us.”
“Wh-what?”
“I am going to fix you. Make you what you’re meant to be. I want you to understand I do this all out of love, out of love for your beauty, for what you will become.”
He turned around and her eyes grew wide and white with terror at the syringe in his hand. At this she finally screamed, screamed as loud as she could, louder than Naima screamed when she woke her up at 5 AM that morning, standing in her crib and howling. Mary’s arms and legs writhed against the straps and for a split second she thought she felt a give until he slapped her hard across the face. In stunned silence the tears fell freely down her cheeks, she was whimpering. The syringe needle entered just under her left cheekbone.
“Local aesthetic, I’d put you under if I thought I could bring you back out.”
She strained at the leather strap across her forehead, the back of her head now aching against the cold metal table top. Soon though she could feel her face going numb, a bitter taste in her mouth seemed to flow from there and then down throughout her body, into her arms and legs which laid like lead against her sides. She couldn’t tell if she even had a body anymore, she could feel nothing, not even her own breathing.
The man placed the syringe back on the table and in its place appeared a small scalpel. In her mind she was leaping off the table and up those rickety stairs, out of the black nothingness, but still she lay motionless. Near the spot where he injected the paralyzing liquid, the man made what must have been a small circular cut. She could feel a vague pressure on her cheek. She remembered being nineteen, the summer before her sophomore year at WSU, getting her wisdom teeth taken out, the sound of metal scraping against bone, ripping flesh.
She could see his fingers maneuvering little metal instruments like chopsticks, covered in crimson blood. He wasn’t wearing gloves. After what could have been an hour or five minutes, the pressure moved from her left cheek to the right, then the center of her face. Soon she wasn’t able to breathe out of her nose, she could feel something oozing into the back of her throat and tried to cough but couldn’t. In some far away corner of her mind she prayed that her gag reflex wouldn’t kick in, fearing she would choke and die on this table. The man yanked hard on her nose, the pressure mounting until with a pop he fell back, holding a white sliver of bone in his hand. More blood oozed down her throat. With equal force he pressed something down hard on her face, whatever was left of it at least, so hard that she could see stars forming in her vision. When he released she could not breathe through her nose at all, stopped up tighter than the worst cold of her life.
Apparently satisfied with his work he gave a small chuckle and plugged something into a wall socket behind her head, then she heard the buzzing whine of an electric razor. She heard him unstrap the leather bindings across her forehead and cradled her head in his hand and began to shave her hair off. Stray strands fell into her eyes and she tried to blink them away. The numbing effect was less potent near the back of her head and she could feel the razor travelling across her scalp. A rustling sound and she felt him placing something on her shaved head, a wig. It fit tight, pulling the skin above her eyebrows taut and making it nearly impossible to close her eyes.
Letting her head fall back down loudly on the metal table, he restrapped the leather bindings and pried her mouth open, fitting in a metal wire brace to hold it in place. Somewhere in the numb unconscious of her mind her gag reflex finally won her over.
With a sickening gurgle she vomited, but it became stuck in her throat and quickly the air was completely cut off. Alarms screamed inside her head but she still could not move, her eyes darted around their sockets. The man, whose face she still couldn’t make out due to the bright light directly above his head, only stared back at her silently. He yanked the wire brace out of her mouth, taking a few teeth with it, and then he kicked the table over on its side. The dark room lurched before her eyes as she slammed into the concrete floor, the heavy metal table bearing down on her from above. She vomited again but could now feel air roaring back into her burning lungs. Rasps escaped her and just as violently as she was flung down the man heaved the table back up into place and secured the straps. The feeling was beginning to return into her legs, she felt a wetness around her crotch.
“You’ll learn to keep it down now won’t you? God you stink, not much left to do.”
He opened her mouth, put the brace back in, and soon she felt immense pressure on her top gums, a yank, and a sound like a wine cork being pulled. He held up one of her incisors, gripped by his pliers, in front of her eyes. Tossing it aside, he fit the pliers around her other incisor, the pressure came, and then suddenly a hideous cracking, like a branch being snapped. Her tooth had shattered.
“Don’t worry I have new ones for you. Not too big, bright and shiny.”
Her fingertips were coming to life then, she could feel the cold air of the basement again and with horror she began to imagine the pain that would engulf her entire mind when the aesthetic wore off. The pain would blot out the world, would blot out the terror, would even blot out Naima. She wished for death.
“Darren, son you need to go to bed it’s late.”
The black figure snapped into attention like a deer in the headlights at the sound of feeble voice calling from far away, somewhere above their heads.
“I’ll be up soon momma, you just go on to bed now.”
His voice when he had spoken to her sounded frantic, monotone, inhuman. Now when he replied to that voice from above he affected a submissive whine. Sensation was reentering her body faster and faster by now. She could feel the raw skin of her wrists where she had pulled against the straps, and then her arms. She had to escape before the pain hit and blinded every sensibility. The black figure named Darren was back at his instrument table muttering soft curses to his mother who by now must have shuffled back into whatever stale bedroom she came from. Without really planning it, the thought entered her head. She began rocking back and forth on the table. The leather straps creaked a bit and the loose bolts holding the legs to the table squeaked but not enough for Darren to notice. She rocked harder and harder, urging against the leg straps that were looser than they should have been, he had neglected to secure them after knocking her over before. The table groaned as two of its legs were now leaving the ground at a time. Darren whipped around, the light finally catching his face. He was handsome, young, but that disarming grin he gave her in the supermarket was replaced by the bared teeth and all-white eyes of a man enraged. He lept up to catch her but the table fell again.
The strap holding her head down snapped and her forehead hit the concrete with a hollow sounding thud. The room went black before her eyes. Vaguely she felt her body dry heaving. The numbness was gone but the pain was distant, she was detached now from her body. Hovering in the air of the basement she saw her torso half laying out of the leather restraints of the table, her body violently spasming. Darren was pacing frantically beside her bleeding head, the area just above her left eye a red mass of flesh and blood already pasting strands of the bad blonde wig to her forehead. His nerve broke.
“Oh fuckfuckfuck I’m sorry. I wanted to help you, I did, I promise I wanted to make you better, I-. I’m going to let you go, but you can’t tell anyone, you can’t. You don’t know me.”
Inarticulate groans came out of her mouth, her tongue lazily exploring the gap where her two front teeth had been. He knelt down beside her and began undoing the straps, her eyes focused on a stink bug crawling slowly through the puddle of blood that her head had left. Red on green. The bug became two, then four, and then her vision fractalled out of existence. When it returned she woke up on the cold dewey grass of a front lawn.
She could hear automatic sprinklers chirping off somewhere distant. Her head was a mountain of pain, every pulse of her heart beat like a drum that throbbed and pushed even more agony than she thought could exist into consciousness. She pulled herself into a ball, groaning with each tiny muscle movement. She could not move her face, it felt like a mask. Her eyes burned and her vision was foggy, she peered out through blades of finely cut grass to a small one story house. Her house.
Naima.
In an instant pain was replaced by a bottomless fear for her baby. She was on her feet. A distant place in her brain informed her that her left leg had been broken somewhere below her knee, and there was a crunching grinding sound as she walked. The motion sensing lights went on and cast a crooked shadow behind her. Her sticky hands felt behind her and by some miracle produced her house keys. She fumbled with the lock, it was hard as her vision kept blurring in and out of focus. Her head, God her head was killing her. She slid through the door and headed down past the kitchen to Naima’s room.
Maurice got off early that night and he was driving home. His floor had been quiet, just watchinng the clock spin. He wanted to go to the range but he hadn’t really seen Mary in three days. She worked hard for that child, every day of maternity leave from the school was spent in dedication to their little Naima. So he decided to surprise her, turn the engine off and coast into the driveway in neutral like he had done when they were in highschool while sneaking out. About a block away he flicked away a half smoked cigarette out the window. He promised her and himself that he’d quit soon. Lung cancer got his grandmother. He’d do it for Naima. But with these back to back shifts at the hospital, a man needed something to take the edge off, and when he couldn’t go to the shooting range a camel or two would do the trick.
The car rolled silently into the driveway. He got out and walked to the door, not noticing the droplets of blood on the grass or the red bricks of their walkway. He’d get into bed with her, pull her close to him, and if the baby was quiet, they’d sleep the whole night through for the first time in months. Then he caught sight of the bloody smudges around the lock and his heart stopped, it froze then and there in time. He saw his eyes in the reflection of the glass door, they were recessed now, drawn back into his face and alert. He moved to his car, never looking away from the house. Opening the passenger door as quietly as he could he felt under the seat for his .38, the one his dad got him for Christmas that year. He was back at the front door.
He held the gun tightly in his right hand and pushed on the doorknob, feeling it give, it was unlocked. His breath came slow, he could feel streams of sweat pouring cold down from his armpits. He stared into the darkness of the living room. Framed family pictures, not even as old as Naima, stared at him in amazement, at the man in scrubs carrying a gun. It was still and quiet save for his hissing breath, until he heard the baby begin to scream. His legs lost their strength and his whole body, an impressive 190 pounds of bulk and muscle began to shake. As quietly and as quickly as he could he moved down the carpeted hall to Naima’s room. The light was on, he could see a tall shadow swaying across the bedroom wall, the smiling faces of Winnie the Pooh and Piglet juxtaposed against his own, covered in beads of sweat.
He entered the doorway, the gun held firmly with both hands, hammer cocked back and finger on the trigger. His eyes were wide open. Over by Naima’s crib there was a woman. She was bent over, peering down at his infant daughter who was screaming louder than he had ever heard. Blonde hair hung limp from her head, and he could see blood seeping out of her scalp and falling into the crib. The woman’s body was shaking in waves, as if she were crying, or laughing. He heard his voice yell to get away and she lifted her head up to see him. Her eyes were wide open in a look of shock, they were bloodshot and he thought he could see a grey film of dust over them. Her eyebrows arched grotesquely high and far to the sides of her face, a face that was red and puffy. Her nose was impossibly thin and crooked on her face. Both her lips were pulled back in a hideous oval around the few teeth she had, they were bloodstained, a large gap right front and center. He was sure of nothing in that moment other than that he was staring straight at a monster. He aimed, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.
Dead center, her forehead exploded in red. Her body jumped a little and then slid over onto the crib, for a moment he was worried it would collapse under the weight but she slumped off of it and onto the carpeted floor, her filmy eyes staring up at the ceiling that he and Mary had pasted glow in the dark stars to the summer before.
He ran over to the crib and picked up Naima whose little blue singlet was speckled in blood and viscera. She was no longer crying, but Maurice was. He cradled his daughter, trying to keep her face away from that dead woman on the floor. He called out for Mary and collapsed to the floor of the hallway, holding Naima in his arms, until the police came.
They got him out of the house fast and took him in for questioning, he couldn’t understand why. They weren’t telling him anything, they wouldn’t let Mary see him. They even brought in a public attorney who just looked at him in sad confusion. He was sitting on a metal chair in an interrogation room, just like the ones he saw all the time on TV. He looked at the wall-length mirror and wondered who was behind it. A deputy came in and sat down across from him, he looked uncomfortable, wouldn’t make eye contact. He held up a manilla folder and slid it across the table to Maurice. Looking down at his hands the deputy spoke.
“Uh, sir, we’re having trouble identifying the victim, and we-”
“What do you mean victim? Victim my ass, that.. thing, that thing was in my house. I was protecting my daughter.”
“Yes sir, we understand it’s just, can you look at these photos please.”
“I want to know where my daughter is being kept first, I want to know where Mary is.”
The deputy rubbed his eyes. It was late, probably close to 4:30 in the morning.
“Your daughter, Mr. Hader, is with social services right now. We’ve contacted your wife’s mother who should be there to pick her up soon.”
“And Mary?”
“We’re looking for your wife now.”
Maurice let out a long moan that filled the interrogation room. He still had blood on his scrubs and his shoes. The deputy pushed the file towards him and sat back in his chair, eyes locked on his hands. Maurice opened the first page which held photographs taken in his little girl’s room. He had to look away and shut his eyes tight so he wouldn’t scream. Most of the woman’s head was gone above the nose. Blood and brains were covering the flower print carpet in Naima’s room. He quickly flipped the photo over. The next shot was of the woman’s torso, one arm crossed over a shirt so caked in blood you couldn’t read what was on the design. He almost flipped that photo over too, until he recognized the ring on his wife’s finger.

Would anyone want to read the rest of this story? Should I turn this in to a book?

How would I expand this? I want to write a book.

Junior year of University, I was approached by M(atty)M(oe) he was goading me to apply to a community service organization, the Bonner program, which rewards students accepted with a $5,000 check. Reluctantly, I applied and shockingly I was accepted into the program, which also included the aforementioned scholarship. Upon receipt of the scholarship check I stood at my mailbox for about 10 minutes $5000 seemed like a small fortune to me, a check of $5000 was almost license to drink myself into oblivion, or throw my fraternity a party completely funded by yours truly.
Nervously, I walked over to the registrars office of Stetson University and said; "Ummm I believe you’ve made a mistake, this check does not belong to me…" They tell me in return, "No that’s your award for being accepted into Bonner."
My head was spinning from the absolute good fortune of doggedly pursuing the philanthropic streak in me, and heeding MMs advice. I was trying to decide what to do with the money; "I could throw my fraternity a party…I could invest it, but any investment right now is suicide…I could buy a motorcycle…" I decided to go with motorcycle, not immediate suicide, I would at least get an dopamine rush on a daily basis. I might even attract a few girls!
Side note: the 'investment option" would have been the best option, I was presenting the equity: SNA, to the board of trustees for purchase into the school endowment portfolio, at time of check receipt, SNA (Snap-On), the equity I was presenting, was trading around $30-35/share (it touched $29/share on the day I made my presentation). At time of writing SNA was trading at $183.59/share. Upon receipt of the scholarship money that was gifted to me, for my good deeds towards humanity, I could have bought 5000/35 = 142 shares of SNA, 142*183=~$30,000. Though no (not) sane 20 year old kid would want to lock their money up for eternity and buy stocks and bonds, that is for old people… like 25 year olds.
I went down to Deland Motorsports with my best friend to browse a few insane 'crotch rockets,' Id learnt that an I-4, or inline 4 cylinder, motorcycle would be vastly overpowered for a 'squid*. Accepting this, I decided on a , very powerful Suzuki SV650s, a sane choice for a "noob."
*squirrely kid
With the final signature of some loan document (stupidly I wasnt not paying very close attention to the verbiage, or amounts - pretty incredible for a finance major) a sudden Dopamine wave went through my body. Holy shit, I thought, do I own another motor vehicle? Im going to get so many girls(!) but I am dating JL… Perhaps her friends will badger her incessantly, and she'll cave and bring another girl into the mix.
None of that happened. Though I did hook up with one if the 'hottest' girls at Stetson, MC, and she specifically said: "you look so 'hawt' riding your motorcycle back from intramural Soccer games, shirtless." Which I interpreted as a flirtatious vote lauding the purchase of that death machine, exactly the type of thing I had in mind when making the purchase. Then there was CZ, Im fairly certain she didn’t have a sexual motivation activated by the motorcycle, this was just a girl who was 'thirsty.' The summer between Junior and Senior year I was selected (incredibly) for an internship with Morgan Stanley, I remember getting the call, in April 2007:
"Hello, could we speak with Nicolas Uppal?"
ohhhh shit what did I do now? "Speaking" I said
"Congratulations Nicolas! You’ve been selected to be a Junior Financial analyst with the GWMG group at Morgan Stanley! You have two options: Beverly Hills or Downtown LA"
All my friends and family can tell you how I was constantly professing to 'adore city life,' and how 'I felt empty if I did not see anything in the sky.' However, the option laid out in front of me required some deliberation, time I did not have. "Uh uh uh Beverly Hills" I blurted out.
"Excellent choice we will send you a confirmation email with the next steps included. Welcome aboard."
Holy sh!t, I thought, im a rising Senior and I already have employment plans.
I immediately called my mother, and let her know the great news.
"I hope you & BPJ approve of this." Quickly explain the Morgan Stanley tale.
"Bien sur que il va etre excite, et mois aussi!"
"Awesome, I have class, talk to you soon, love you."
And with that I thought my future was coming together. I putted around campus for the remainder of my Junior and Senior years, occasionally riding out to Daytona beach, thinking: "this is so cool thank god for this helmet though, I didn’t have the cash to buy one there! Im glad the dealer included one with the sale." That call came at the perfect time to fully let loose over spring break.
For Spring Break; I went to Key West with GA, EM, CF, and DS - we had a blast. I don’t think there was a 5-minute space when all 5 of us were not drunk or high. Then, GA and I had the brilliant idea of renting 49cc scooters and terrorizing Duvall St. We were wrong, Duvall St. terrorized us, EM got into a fight with a bouncer at some popular bar on the strip on Duvall St. EM destroyed him, he just sat on the entrance steps as all 5 of us stumbled in, then 10 minutes and 5 drinks later, we stumbled out, mounted our scooters and safely made it back to our motel, this episode only reinforced my feeling of being invincible.
The next day GA and I were racing on the mopeds around Key West, seeing some traffic up ahead I decided to ramp on to the sidewalk and ride on the sidewalk and 'bunnyhop' down off the sidewalk, thus ensuring my victory. GA pulled up next to me laughing his ass off, from that point forward it didn’t matter if we were drunk, high, or both - we were jumping off sidewalks. Amazingly, none of us went down, except for CF who gave the scooter too much throttle on the sand, lost the rear end and the scooter fishtailed out from underneath him in some sand. Schadenfreude, I thought. Good thing im (slightly) more skilled at riding scooters.
We then had our final night out, just got really drunk didn’t do anything to prepare for the ride back up to Dea(d)land, and await the final 2 months of school.
In the final 2 months of Senior year I attended Ultra Music Festival, I was so in to progressive house and was known around campus for my love affair with House music. In fact DS and I hosted a radio show called "Techno story time," where we would 'drop' the sickest track we had heard during the previous week, and between tracks I would tell an 'R'/'X' rated story of the debauchery. Looking back on this, I must've seemed like such a douchebag, literally kissing and telling whoever had the misfortune of tuning in. Ultra (UMF) was in Miami a 7 hour drive, too pusillanimous to take 'Brutus,' (I wanted to keep him in excellent condition, keep the mileage low) I decided to take the motorcycle.
I recall that going to Miami on a motorcycle was so draining, but as always I was able to overcome that challenge and arrive in Miami with time to spare. I crashed on JLs brothers couch at UM, what an awesome guy for putting up with a smelly, dirty guy who was banging his sister. Damn, in retrospect, I cant really forgive myself for breaking up with JL a year later
At Ultra Music Fest had an awesome time, I didn’t do any drugs, get drunk, or makeout/flirt/hookup with anyone else or smoke Cannabis (although you could smell the cannabis smoke 2-3 miles away). On the drive back, I decided to go as fast as I could (actually I just really really missed JL and wanted to get to Stetson sooner) I remember having the bike at 135 MPH (engine speed limit, were it not for that or I wouldve gone much faster - so that speed limiter was a good thing) for ~30 minutes on the long and boring interior highway FL91. 91 to I-4 to US 17 to JLs arms!
The final 2 months until graduation were essentially a self-imposed retirement; I had no projects due, no finals and before leaving to Ultra Fest '09 I had just given my bond presentation. I was a free man - with no employment lined up. The drawbacks of going to a small, unknown and not-well-connected-outside-of-Florida school were beginning to become apparent
During graduation, I don’t know why I was so somber, I stuck around after graduating for a few nights to party with the boys and be with JL before I departed towards the unknown of adulthood. Upon returning to Atlanta I just assumed that I would be able to 'crash' in my old room, without having a job. Luckily, about 4 months in to my joblessness my great friend from school KD was able to hook up an interview for me with his company, AT&T. I interviewed well, but I really think KD had it already arranged to have me hired, they just wanted to vet me. I interviewed and was subsequently hired to do some business analytics/data cleaning. While working at AT&T I did great work making fun of my superior AM, however, I was not entirely clear on my task. I know I was supposed to measure the times from product purchase to online implementation. Beyond that, However the work was a sinecure until I was hired by MS. We moved buildings, 1 block to a massive, wide open cubicle farm, there may have been ~1000 cubicles in that room - and my cubicle was positioned so that the screen of my computer was visible to everyone who walked in.
Despite being assigned to a less than desirable spot. I worked, not hard but I made sure I completed all my tasks. About 2 months into my 'shafting' I decided to fly to FLL, Ft. Lauderdale, to visit JL, I missed her so badly. I didn’t just miss the sex, I missed the affection, I missed the unconditional love. I had no idea what it was that drew me so close to JL, but I kept going to her. While I was visiting JL she suggested that we go to a dog racing track, having only been to one before, I went to a dog racing track in Daytona Beach with AGs dad and my BFF NB, I agreed the event was not too memorable. However, on the drive back from the track I received a call from the connection I made during my internship with MS, the Managing Director of HR, CNG.
CNG informed me of a position in Coral Gables, Miami FL working with one of her friends JFG. Since I was already in Naples, 90 miles from Miami, I replied with: "I can be there to interview in two days…" With that I experienced another endorphin rush, I ffelt like my future was being laid out in front of me, I just had to secure this job, work my ass off, endure a few years of menial pay until I am promoted to 'Associate' and pay for JL to move in with me. This was especially alluring to me because it seemed like my best friends were getting amazing jobs; RL (my best friend) was working at a PE shop in ATL, and my good friend MS was consulting with McKinsey in Dubai, then again they went to awesome schools Emory and Wharton, respectively.
After my interview with JFG I drove back to Naples for a night before flying back to Atlanta,. It finally felt like I was entering adulthood. I got the position in Miami, I then attempted to put in my two weeks at AT&T when I tried to put in my two weeks my supervisor, AM, said: "No need, you don’t need to come back tomorrow." So with that I was a free man for 2 months, it felt eerily similar to finishing Stetson. I set about organising my departure and move to Miami.
I quickly realised that I was too poor to remotely make a down payment on a condo sight-unseen, so I meekly implored JL to ask her brother, RL, to allow me to crash on his couch for '1 week at most.' I felt like such a bum, living in the UM dorms, working for MS but not having a place to call my own. I had to make a change, so I went around my office asking if anyone needed or knew of anyone who needed a roommate. Luckily, a friend of my then boss, JFG, also had an analyst on his team, RM. We met and quickly agreed to cohabitate an apartment.
Living with RM was fairly easy, he was a very agreeable roommate, I think I pulled the best hand out of the deal,I made sure I got the master suite of the apartment while paying 10% less than RM, I feel like an asshole thinking back on it - but capitalism makes you do things against your human nature. We got into an ok apartment if it were not for the recession of 08-09 we would have never been able to afford it.
About 2 months after I finalized living with RM, Ultra '11 was gearing up, knowing that I was not earning enough to afford a $230 ticket, I begged JL to buy the ticket for our 2 year anniversary. She did! I thought; oh man I love this girl so much, I cant wait to spend the rest o my life with her. My friends GA and DS also were at UMF '11, we had a blast. None of us got too high, drunk or messed up, and strangely I never got GA or EM back to my apartment even though it was 2 blocks from Bayfront park.
I recouped for 12 hours, slept off the alcohol and cannabis, and showed up for work that Monday, probably looking like shit. A few months later, I decided to look up my Boss during my internship, GD. When we connected he was so glad to hear from me, he was unsure if I had been hired. Two calls later he gave me two things: a task to test a Mercedes E55 AMG(we were both gearheads), a job offer in Beverly Hills. Having just the task to test drive the car wouldve been enough, but a job offer in LA? My mind began racing, I had a flexible start date so I was able to gradually close things out and speak with my portfolio manager. Although a favor was called in to get me hired, JFG had no qualms about letting me go.
A month later I went out for my birthday with KG, we werent dating but she had an enormous crush on me, infact she came to Stetson to visut me, much to the chagrin of Jenny. We went to a few small bars, and ended up at club LIV, it was there I met the most beautiful girl I ever laid eyes on, Viviane G. from Rio, much to my amazement she was in to me as well (probably because at the time I had a head of black hair, this made me look like a Brazilian model). Vivi (as I called her) and I hit it off we spent the rest of my time in Miami together, we never kissed, this is why I felt ok staying with Jenny.
Then, a car and yacht show, 1 block from my apartment spurred the motivation to call and break up with Jenny, strangely. I thought Vivi was the woman of my dreams, I didn’t take in to consideration everything Jenny, and her family, had done for me
I took 2 months to finish up in Miami, going out every night to get the last feel of Miami nightlife before I ventured out to the great unknown west. Once again, like in Miami, I arrived in LA and had to 'crash' on my moms good friend LDs guest bedroom, until I got my situation squared away. I was able to quickly secure an apartment 2 blocks from Hollywood Ave., with a view of the Hollywood sign. "Oh man," I thought "I must be the flossiest Stetson graduate right now." I soon came to learn that DS was in LA too, we linked up and I found my smoking/drinking partner while I was in LA.
Work in the Beverly Hills branch of Morgan Stanley was not overly intense, I was just working with a few extra figures. This increase in amount magnified any mistake I made, and I made quite a few mistakes, luckily these were only mistakes on internal reporting documents my managers (one in Beverly Hills and the other in Boston) were pretty cool with it, but still pointed these mistakes out. I remember the team assistant, AT, being so gorgeous, she was taken, or I wouldve been all over that, I wanted to marry her. There were three women that I wanted to marry: 1 - Vivi, 2 - Jenny, 3 - AT
About 2 months in to living in Los Angeles AT, told me about the website Thrillist. I thought "wow Thrillist is so cool, all these awesome events…wait whats thus 'Rental Car Rally?'" The more I read about it, the more I became supremely interested and thought, oh man my friend GA would be PERFECT as my co pilot. I kept thinking about all the hijinks we would get in to, and the speeding, and the (name your debaucherous activity here). GA flew out to LA, we secured a rental Camaro SS coupe and headed for the rally.
We get to the staging area and we see a flood of other cars, buses, and people dressed in ridiculous outfits "this is going to be too much fun!" we said to each other. As the staging process moves on we see some incredible car decorations, and at the end of the pre-rally warm up we are given the option to race on a circle track, being the speed demons that GA & I were, we A B S O L U T E L Y took full advantage of that option. There was no passing allowed, and a quarter track length between each racer. We stage in line - our turn comes up and I bury the throttle, the rear tires barely having grip as we rocket onto the track, I didn’t dare to go above 125 MPH sine I was unsure about the condition of the tires. As we finished what was essentially a penis-size competition, I decided to do an enormous burnout in the middle of the track. After that burnout we were off to the races.
The rally was set up as a series of checkpoints, you have to take a photo at each checkpoint for proof you were there. First checkpoint: LA Zoo. Going to a zoo during the day is interesting, and smelly. At night however, its frightening different sounds and screams from other ralliers in the distance, we took a photo and drove, withi the speed limits, o course, to the next check point. This checkpoint was an abandoned ski lodge, perfect for messing around on abandoned ski lifts. After the ski lodge, we vebtured out into the desert, we only had 1 checkpoint between the LA Zoo and Vegas, and that checkpoint was on the very western edge of Nevada, a brothel - GA said he had no interest in buyin their "product," I remarked to GA how sad I as that I didnt "dip my pen in Dutch ink" while I was in Amsterdam with KD, yet I too was leery of getting some western Nevada 'strange.' We terorized a few trailer parks, doing insane burnouts and leaving the trailer parkhood in dust.
GA and I get to the strip, our rental Camaro SS was filthy, but we gave no fuc*s. We pull up the crappy little off-strip motel, a motel that was likely used by the hookers around Las Vegas, toss our bags on the floor and crashed for about 4 hours. Our room was right be the Lima Bean shaped pool so we could hear the fellow ralliers horsing around by the pool. Greg gets up, looks out the window, tosses me a Natural Light and says; "the only way to detox is to retox muthaf*****!"
To which I replied :"that’s excellent, but first pack a bowl beforeI shower to get this wester Nevada hooker scent off me…"
We both get out to the pool and EVERYONE rom the starting line is there, they were all really really drunk. Since I was a little tired, and wanted to be on my game for gambling that night, I didn’t drink or smoke. The night rolled around and we rustled up some grub on the strip, then we went to MGM to gamble: "Im not putting more than $50 down for chips…"
"Cool, imma do $100, you broke bitch" GA said.
We decide to play some slots (yawn), some Roulette (yawn), then I said I wanted to play some BlackJack. We walked up to the black jack table, waited for the dealer to reshuffle, and jumped in. I felt really smart so I thought I could count cards, after a few hands I started to turn a $5 to $10 to $20 profit, leaving me with $50, the exact same as I started with I thought: "ok, I can quit now, or go for glory, and put 80% down…" Me being the dumb kid I was, I decided to put $40 down and risk it all.
"ohhhh the little piker thinks hes got game!?" The dealer said
"Ehhhh" I replied
The cards come out and I get a 9 and a King.
"I bet you want a hit…"
"Nah, the only hit im taking will be the hit of Cannabis I take after I win this hand"
"Ok kid"
The dealer got a 5, Queen. "I bet you want a hit…" I said in a snarky tone
He took a card, a 7.
I said: "Id like to close out, please"
"Awwww poor kid cant play!?"
"Id like to close out, please"
"Ok tough guy"
I take my chips, get them cashed, and wound up with $95. I turned to GA: "I see how this can get addictive, I turned a 90% ROI!"
"We both laughed, piled into the Camaro, and GA drove us back to LA. GA hung out with DS for an extra day in LA while I was at work - about a month went by before my portfolio manager GD told me I needed to get to Boston to meet the other half of the team, I had only spoken to AS & SG on the phone, trying to explain how to use my messed up spreadsheets. Upon the meeting I figured: "Im already in the North East, I will swing down to NYC to visit RL, RN & MS.
The first night we were itogether, we just went out, got drunk, went to MS' friends apartment, but she wasn’t home yet. So MS and I decided to sleep, on the loor, in front of her door in a fairly swanky Upper East Side apartment. Early that morning MS and I were both awoken by a securoty guard kicking our feet: "uhhhh whats goin on here?"
"oh, sorry we got locked out by our friend she didn’t come home last night, do you all have a lounge?"
"yep, to the right of the front desk"
"Awesome, thank you"
MS and I slept on couches (what a luxury until JP came home. We got cleaned up and I grabbed my bag and went to MS, RN, and RLs apartment. Except it was a 2-bedroom. RL has converted a narrow, but very tall closet into a bedroom/loft. RL and I had been friends since high school, so I felt ok asking him if I could toss my stuff in his room. It was Saturday night, so we all got cleaned up, grabbed a pizza ate in, and got hyped for Saturday night.
"Where should we go?" asked RN.
Me:"I really wanna go to Pacha near westside highway! I get a podcast every week by them, and they have awesome music!"
RN asks:"Ok, everybody cool with Pacha?"
MS:"I wanna hit a college bar, maybe we go there to pregame, then Pacha?"
Me: "yeah that sounds splendifferous"
We set out, at the college bar, I ended up taking 3 shots and I was done for, I cant remember a thing. I stumble up to the bar and ask or a Heineken. "Ohhh is that for me?" An unseen girl asked
"Sure, if we go home tonight."
"OK"
Not being able to believe my ears, I turned around and I see this really cuteAsian girl with her hand out.
"hmm youre pretty thirsty huh?"
"Like you wouldn’t believe" as she snatched the beer out of my hand
"Well maybe you can give me some private tutoring, so I do believe."
"Im a great teacher"
"Well, I kinda suck at school, anything you can do?"
"Well as far as sucking, I think we can work something out"
"well, Ill be sure to get you an extra juicy Apple"
"Sounds delicious"
We danced, occasionally kissing, and made our way back to RL, RN & MS' apartment. When we got there I realized I had no bed to sleep on, only a couch, but RL being the good friend he is said: "Y'all can sleep (wink) in my bed."
"The dungeon!? Yesssss. Thanks man."
So, this girl (didn’t and still don’t know her name) amble up the ladder, she was wearing a skirt and wanted to go first. "Ok I know where this is going…to the bed!"
"Aww cant we play teachestudent first?"
"Only if I get a taste of that Apple I brought you..."
The next morning was my flight out to LA at 4:56 PM, so I had time to grab brunch with the guys before I left. We ate on Chelsea Pier, I felt obliged to 'kiss and tell,' and extol them with my heroics. In retrospect, they probably didn’t want to hear it, I banged some random, probabky nasty girl on RLs bed. We finished lunch had some fun on Chelsea pier, and I flew back to LA. While back in Beverly Hills I was incredibly tire, but I took pride in recounting every detail to DV, knowing AT could hear. I stupidly thought: "if she hears how much fun im having, she might get jealous and want to hangout with me." I was such a devious little shit.
I finish telling DV just as GD walks in to hear the punchline; "…so I brought her back and got her on my friends bed!" GD walks to his station, with four screens (I used to think the ore screens you have the more of a boss you are, now I think the less you have to involve yourself with day-to-day, and intraday moves the more of a 'boss' you are) I can feel him staring at me smiling my ass of, he says "I WANT TO FU*KING HEAR!" So I launch into my tale (or should I say tail).
Later that week I called my father while biking to the gym. I called him because I made an error In the execution of a large fixed income trade, the price of the underlying security moved away from the price quoted, normally this would not matter since we had discretion over trading - meaning we would not need client approval. However, this was a trade for our largest client making a large fixed income purchase, so $.01 makes a big difference when the quantity purchased is in the millions. My father recounts this story to me as an almost emblematic admission of previous of apprehension towards him, and my subsequent of rectification.
As theNYC buzz began to wear off, I started going to bars around LA; SkyBar, and Viper Room one night my two buddies DS & DS, and I all agreed that we should go to Club Avalon, I was a huge electronic progressive house music aficionado so going to world famous club Avalon was *almost* as sweet as NYC with my bros. DS and I cohosted 'Techno Storytime' on the school radio, so we were super pumped to hear some much in the 110 - 130 BPM range.
Still feeling the nightlife buzz from NYC, I found myself able to easily to talk to girls. Doug and I were kinda wall flowers/club explorers, neither one of us has been to Avalon, but upon exploring it we both agreed, DS would love it too, we should start meeting there monthly. The night wore on, I found myself uninterested in paying $12.00 for a bottle if Heineken, so I started to hit on some women, DS and I had explored too much and I only had 30 minutes to seal the deal. So I got to work, quickly scored the number, but we got sidetracked talking about a subject I really, really enjoy; political analysis.
We talked political analysis I wish I could remember what she was saying, she was so on the ball, that awareness only increased my attraction to her. We talked for a bit, we went to the outside portion of the club, seeing her in the moonlight I thought; "shit, she is magnificent, screw AT if I land her. Her looks combined with her intellect make her a superwoman, exactly the type of woman I want carrying my seed. By this point 20 minutes had elapsed, and the club began emptying, "oh shit better seal th-"
"It was amazing talking to you, but I have to find my friends."
"Wait, maybe we…"
She was gone from my life, at least I had her number…
I moped back to DS, he asked me: "Howd it go man!?"
I started yelling that 'I couldn’t seal the f$%^ing deal!"
"Its cool man, this is a big city, im sure youll have other shots, lets catch a cab back to my crib, smoke a bowl watch a movie and forget about all this."
"Aight dude that sounds awesome."
So, we go out to the taxi area, DS and I just bullshitting, and he stop talking: "…so DS has this sick fader on his turn tab…. Wait, what was the name of the girl you were talking to?"
"Why? K(atie)A(ltman…)
"KATIE!!!!!!"
"D what the…."
"KATIE!!!!!!"
"Oh Shit that’s Katie!"
He yells -"KATIE!!!!!!"
She turns around as she is getting in to her cab, with her buddies. I sprint over to her cab wrench the cab door open, and ride with the back to their apartment in Laurel Canyon. From here, I don’t have a clear memory of what happened but I woke up in my bed the next morning. "Shit" I thought, did I walk back to Franklin from Laurel Canyon? Guess I don’t need to work out today! So I rolled back over and dozed for another 45minutes until I get a text from the girl who was sweating me at the gym, CS.
A little back story on CR; I was always checking her out, so was always pushing her massive chest out when I would walk by and she was on a machine. Then one day she walked up behind me while I was doing pushups, waited for me to finish me set… "ninety eight…ninety nine…one hundered, I don’t know I you were listening there I did 100 pushups, ha ha ha
"Is that rom a movie???"
"Anchorman!"
"Ohhhh, well lets see how you do with me riding yourback!"
"Wait what?"
CR straddled my back and plopped down. I pretended to not be able do any with her on my back. "Come on muscle man, make me ride you!"
"Um, im not sure I feel comfortable announcing to the gym that you want to fuck me"
"Who said that, that wishful thinking man…"
"How about we compare our wishes, what is a good night next week to take you to dinner?"
"Sunday night"
"Sunday!?!?"
"I am a nurse so I work weird hours, but next Sunday night, lets get take out, a bottle of wine and some…youre from India right?"
"Half"
"Ok, some Hindu Kush, sit on the beach in Santa Monica and share dinner."
"Whoa, yes ma'am!"
"Ma'am?"
"Southern thing, I tell you about on Sunday night."
"Can't wait" She said with a smile
I left the LA Fitness on Hollywood BLVD. next to the Chinese Theater in a dream state. Then I realized that Sunday night was 2 nights away! Shit I need to get wine and a ton of Hindu Kush! I secured the Hindu Kush (too much), but not the wine, I wanted to get Red, and White to give her the option. Since I has just moved into my new apartment, I didn’t have time to set everything up, so I didn’t have time to buy a cooler to chill the white wine; "I will have to buy it the night of."
I searched my room and couldn’t find any more bud, so I decided to Meet DS and DS for dinner, we wound up going to a bar too - oops! Needless to say I didn’t get to pick up the wine, or the Kush, id have to pick it up before the date, tomorrow. "Hey do you guys know I any dispensaries are open on Sunday??
"They arent, but our friend owns one, he'll sell to you."
"Awesome"
So, I contact DS and DS' buddy; I meet him and buy absolutely too much bud, and buy some gummies too, I swing back by my apartment on Franklin, drop off the dry bud" CR and I wont need that much, and get a call from DS, Ds and crew: "Yooo nuppal, were gonna go catch a movie, you down?"
"Yeah man lets do it!"
I quickly grab my backpack, remembering that I needed to pick up the wine, and knowing I needed to bring some bud. I hopped on my bike and roade over to East Hollywood to catch a flick with them. I pull up, get off the bike as theyre rolling up, I swing my backpack across, thinking im going to light up. I open the back pack… "Hey guys lets do this before…" Open the back pack a but more and reach in feeling for my bowl and the tupperware with the dry kush, and realizing that I hadnt unpacked the edibles that id bought. So, I skipped the dry bud and said: "hey guys I just bought these edibles, lets each grab some gummies and watch the movie…"
"Alright dude, but Edibles will hit when the movie is ending, but yeah man!"
So we take some gummies, and watch the movie. DS was right, the gummies did begin to take effect as the movie ended: "shit" I thought "Im gonna have to ride to Santa Monica while pretty high…no big deal, I hate riding high though." As Im riding down Sunset BLVD, heading west towards Santa Monica I happen to look up at the sky during a red light. The magnificence of a South-Western Southern California sunset is something everyone must enjoy, similar to the colors a Monet painting. I stared up at the sky for longer than the light was red, so people behind me became agitated. I quickly moved down Sunset blvd. at the famous (or infamous) intersection of Sunset Blvd. & Larrabee St. in West Hollywood.
Still mesmerized by the sunset, yet trying to focus, I see a clapped out For Expedition come from Larrabee, turning left onto Sunset the intended turn was in my path. I took a second to process "this is my path what the fuohhhh," going from euphoric joy to life saving maneuvers is not something they teach in MSF school, good thing I never went. After processing his intended trajectory I slammed on the brakes,
A part-time bartender at the Viper Room "didn’t see his red light due to sun" and was under assume every light is 'Green' for him. So he decided that even though there is traffic on Sunset, he would rather turn o make sure there was no traffic going in his intended direction on Sunset. I knew that grabbing too much front brake would send me headfirst into the pavement and his car, and into my coffin. So, I decided to overapply the rear brake, lay the bike down and hope for the best, I guess 'the best' of an inherently shitty situation did occur, I lived! However, while sliding through the Sunset & Larrabee intersection my back connected with the end of his passenger-side running board, my brand new Scorpion Exo-1000 hit the running board as well. Instantly knocked out. According to the report filed by the ambulance driver I was 'unresponsive' at the scene, but no external blood, save a bit of road rash were my jacket bunched up underneath my left arm, I suffered a 'severe' DAI brain injury (Diffuse Axonal Injury) and 26 brain bleeds.
Luckily, the ambulance ride was at most 8 minutes to Cedars-Siani Beverly Hills, this hospital was on my commute path to and from work, on Maple Dr. I always wondered what the building was, so much property in the heart of Beverly Hills however, this was NOT the method I intended to find out about this building. Must have been a funny scene in the office the next Monday. "Looks like Nick is late again" said AT
My dad gave me my first laugh post injury, we agree that laughter is the vanguard of healing mental and physical ailments.

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Wrestling Observer Rewind ★ Feb. 15, 1988