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The Sheik, The Butcher and Me
The True Story of My Short Life in Professional Wrestling
May 9, 2006 by Darren T.

St. Louis, Missouri, July of 1991 I am arriving to join the circus that was the National Wrestling Federation, a small time wrestling outfit that had a champion that would sell you the belt itself if the offer were right. Abdullah the Butcher was the people's champion for the time that would be my life in the NWF. Wrestling stars like Ric Flair, Roddy Piper and the great Jimmy Snuka were all legends to me. The ability to fly off ropes and pummel people without even touching them was a skill to be admired. So, I took the opportunity and left my final year of college to join the world of professional wrestling. Although college was surely going to lead me to an exciting life of correcting papers and wiping noses as a schoolteacher, I just had to go. The conversation with my father regarding this choice was not an easy one. However, we discussed it and decided t that it was a once in a lifetime decision that I probably would never get again. So, at the tender age of a 22, pro wrestling won the battle of life decisions and off I went.

I bought a ticket and jumped on a plane to meet the man that was giving me this great opportunity, Brian Lazarus. Brian was a businessman that was taking a chance on this traveling road show and he needed an assistant. He was a man my brother had come to know and trusted him. I was asked to assist with all t-shirts and souvenir sales throughout the tour. Brian was five foot six and 150 pounds but had the personality of 7 foot giant. When Brian entered the room immediately the focus and energy of the room would take a turn for the better. He was smart, funny, brash and most importantly a man who did not shy away from a drink at any time. Brian was a promoter of liquor and other event promotions but never a wrestling promoter. We hit it off immediately and I became Brian's right hand man to assist with this journey from Terre Haute, Indiana to the planned finale in my hometown of Buffalo, New York.

We got the semi trucks, picked up the ring, 2 touring buses, a gangly crew of once known and some never known professional wrestlers and we were on our way. Packed into a luxury travel bus with sleeping bunks, a kitchen, TV / vicar and a lounge area for chatting. I was looking forward to the chatting part and getting the inside glimpse, of pro wrestling. I had already figured out a key component and that was that it was not "real". How did I figure this out you ask" How did my 3 and a half years of college help me come to that conclusion"" I was on the main bus with the 2 main event participants who slept right next to each other. I was told that at one time they took a picture of one tucking in the other, just after they had torn each other apart hours before. I wish I had that photo but I didn't. In fact I wasn't allowed to take any photos, as these guys really didn't want to be seen together, especially since they were mortal enemies and all.

Here was the line up from the bottom guys to the main event:

Randi Louis vs. The Russian Assassin

Randi Louis - A big steroid bound muscle guy who was really not too bright. He was so muscle bound that he moved really slowly in the ring and his matches were sloppy but ended with a big body slam. I talked to him one time and discussed how my brother was a Chippendale dancer. He replied that he could have done that if he wanted... I thought he had the face right out of 70s porn, but I didn't tell him that as I didn't want to find out about that big body slam.

The Russian Assassin - The Assassin was neither an assassin nor was he Russian. He was a big country boy that had a good sense of humor that made you laugh. I drank with him one night and remember him putting me into some kind of wrestling move that made me look like a fool, everybody laughed. I also remember sitting by the pool talking with him one day with him and a guy we had in the crew who was really actually from Russia. The Assassin said to him in a big country accent, "hey man ...I am from Russia too! The guy looked at him and said with a thick Russian accent, "You are NOT a Russian". That got a roar of laughter from all the wrestlers by the pool.

Fabulous Beach Boys vs. The Masked Executioners

The Beach Boys - They were my drinking buddies. There is only one pictured because the other Beach Boy overslept and wasn't at the photo shoot. We hung out the duration of my time in wrestling. We drank hard and laughed a lot. They were always on the prowl for girls and would try and get me to go up and talk first. They said I was pretty...which normally is a compliment but I wanted to be a tough guy, not a pretty boy, I was in wrestling now. They quickly put that dream to rest. They were roommates on the tour with a weird ritual... they would give each other private time in the hotel room for the other to masturbate. They wouldn't hide it.... they had designated times for one to be out and for the other to come back. I thought that was weird, perhaps it was wrestling thing. I know you are thinking maybe it was a gay thing; come to think of it...they did call me pretty...

The Masked Executioners - They were whoever could fit into the full black body suits and who was not wrestling at the moment. Everybody got a turn...except me...

Chief Jules Strongbow vs. Wild Samoan Seka

Chief Jules - He was haggard old man; he had a bad back and probably should have been somewhere nice and comfortable resting quietly. He looked tired the duration of the trip. I had asked if he would pick me up for a photo and slam me, he declined because he said couldn't pick up anyone not even in his match. His matches were real slow with lots of dancing around but not much else. I felt bad for him as he would sit quietly and generally not say too much. I remember very well sitting with him on the bus in the lounge watching a videotape of a pornographic movie. I had searched through the movies and asked if he wanted to watch it. He said, "yes" so I popped it in. I truly basked in that moment as I looked out the window and saw the golden Indiana cornfields glistening past my window and then I looked back again to the scene of the Chief sitting and enjoying the porn. I never felt more alive, and he looked so happy. I gazed over to the screen as this woman was bouncing and said," Nice tits on that one, huh Chief"" He smiled and agreed, and I thought to myself, "moments like this are why I left college".

Wild Samoan Seka - He was huge man with a head the size of a very expensive watermelon. The kind of melon you take to a very large family picnic. Otherwise we never spoke. He was a scary looking man

Hillbilly Cousin Luke vs. Col. De Beers

Cousin Luke - Cousin Luke has spent time in the World Wrestling Federation, which was the big time to the younger wrestlers on the tour. He was a little standoffish and stayed to himself. He still had a name in the business and he got the crowd going with his country time music when he entered the ring.

Col De Beers - Legendary in the American Wrestling Association as I had watched him for years and always thought his interviews were among the best. His angle was that he was from South Africa and that he still supported Apartheid. It was odd but it worked well if he wrestled against a black wrestler. We didn't have a black wrestler so he faced off against Cousin Luke, the Hillbilly, which was also beneath the good colonel. We never spoke or interacted, otherwise.

Wendi Richter vs. Candi Devine

Wendi Richter - The former World Wrestling Federation Women's champion and also a main participant in the first Wrestlemania. She was a legendary wrestler and also a good-looking woman. We had talked at length as we rode on the bus and sat in the lounge. We never watched porn together but we talked at length about going to shopping malls in the various cities that we were headed toward. She was fun to talk to as she had varied interests one of those being smoking grass. The Beach Boys had fallen prey to her charms as they said she had smoked with them and then took off. They said it kept happening and then she would go away and they didn't know why. I got a vibe that things were going to get interesting between the ladies champion and myself. I had dreams of being with her and getting to wear her belt. I could see it in my future; I could be "Mr. Ladies Champion". I do remember after one night she came over to me and gave the championship belt and told me not to let anyone touch it or steal it. I felt like her bitch and I liked it. "Mr. Ladies Champion" it had a ring to it.

Candi Devine - A little rougher on the eyes. She was like a truck driving woman. We never spoke; I think she thought I was a wuss...next to her I was.

Abdullah the Butcher vs. The Original Sheik

Abdullah the Butcher - Officially announced as, " The Mad Man from Sudan" weighing in at close to 400 pounds was Abdullah the Butcher!!!! Otherwise known as "Larry" from Chicago... although I wasn't allowed to call him that, however I was allowed to call him "Abby". As I said earlier, I followed wrestling as a teenager and Abdullah the Butcher had a mystic aura about him from years in the business. His forehead was deeply scarred, he was listed as being over 400 pounds and his hometown was apparently, "the Sudan". His bloodied face appeared in almost every wrestling magazine that I ever bought. He was always pictured wrestling in far off regions of the world in bizarre matches involving fire, barbed wire and steel cages. He had a history of plunging forks, spoons and other foreign objects into the foreheads of his opponents. Why the forehead ...I don't know this is pro wrestling and this is what they do. In reality, Abby was a great guy, very kind, and very polite. I met Abby officially the first night of matches. He was covered in blood taking off his ring attire in the dressing room. I had packed up and done the things that I was assigned to do, so I thought to myself..." I have the pass to go anywhere in the building, so let's use it". I headed off to the dressing room to see if there was anything that needed to be looked at or tampered with, or shifted, or any reason for me to be in there. I entered the room and sitting on a bench was Abby although he wasn't hard to find, I merely had to follow the little droplets of blood that led to his dressing area. He was taking off his shoes and wiping his face, He filled the room with his black body and splashes of blood was brightly highlighted against the backdrop of the white painted wall. He looked up at me and spoke to me as if I was supposed to be there. He said, "How did it look out there...did it go over alright"" He was asking me my opinion.... I was about to tell the Butcher if he was good.... we wanted my approval!!!... So I gave it to him. "Real good tonight Abby, looked real good people really enjoyed it...I know I did.... great stuff". He looked up at me happily with his round kind face still crimson covered with blood and said to me in his gentle voice, "Great now let's go get some pussy!". I was stunned.... He just stabbed a man in the forehead with a fork for the last 30 minutes and now he wants to go pick up women. Although Larry stabbed people with forks and was a bit out of shape he was a very nice, kind and funny man who probably had no problem meeting ladies. I saw it first hand as he took us all out the first night, opening his wallet so that everyone around him had a good time. We drank bottles of red wine, swapping stories with great hopes for a successful tour... all on Abby's tab with several ladies we met in the first town.

The Original Sheik - The Sheik was an older gentleman who was worldly and sophisticated. Imagine Omar Sharif, with a road map of scars across his forehead and an affinity for throwing chairs and creating mass confusion. His sleeping quarters were in the back near mine. I never found out his real name so I always called him, "Sheik". I did not remember him as a kid as he was, " the Original Sheik" which meant he was from the 1950-60's wrestling days. He was the first wrestler to come out against the USA.

I can remember him going by on the bus and telling me to get up in the morning and passing by at night asking me how I was doing. I was the youngest on the tour and I think he liked that about me. He was like my grandpa.... that fought a butcher every couple of nights. We spent one day in Indiana by the pool, as "the Sheik" was an avid tanner. The Sheik told me that his special mixture of oils was legendary in pro wrestling. He said it had snake oils and coconut and other oils all mixed up and that it was potent so I was to be careful with it. I was honored to get a squeeze from his bottle, it was very thick and I couldn't spread it very far and I didn't want to ask for more. But Grandpa Sheik was avid that I take all I need so he forced me to take more. The Sheik told me that one bald headed wrestler once questioned how good his lotion was so he spread it all over himself including his head. This wrestler fell asleep by the pool only to awaken hours later with the entire top of his head covered in a blister. The Sheik went and found a pin and they had to pop the blister on his head. The Sheik laughed long and hard after this tale. I was imaging a 14-inch blister on someone's head and was a little flabbergasted..."Can the scalp do that"" My final time with the Sheik was out with him and I and a crewmember for a steak dinner as he saw that we had no money. We ate together and talked about wrestling and what my goals were for the future. He paid for dinner and we headed off to the ring together. Most grandfathers take a nap after a nice meal or take a short walk. This grandfather was going off to have a fork jabbed into his forehead and wrestle a supposed "Mad Man". Overall, the Sheik was great guy as he made me feel like I belonged and that I was part of the wrestling family.

This was the troop that comprised the Legends of Wrestling Tour in the summer of 1991

PART 2: THE MATCHES

Day 1 | July 16, 1991 | Indiana State University | Terre Haute, Indiana

Our first match in Indiana and I am unsure of what to expect. I suppose the best part of this night is that we are staying at the Larry Bird hotel, in downtown Terre Haute. The hotel building was completely ensconced in Larry Bird paraphernalia, I sat in a "33"bar stool and had a "three point" cocktail before the drive to the arena.

The crowd was smaller than expected, around 300 people and we were booked into a 3000-seat arena, and so it looked empty. The part of the match that is most memorable was the main event. Now, Brian had mentioned at some point that he was involved in the matches but I didn't think he was going to be literally IN the matches. As the Sheik was introduced in his match against Abdullah, Brian came out from behind the curtain dressed in a beautiful turban and streaming robe. He was screaming at the people as he came down the aisle. It was surreal to see someone you know trying to antagonize a few hundred people with Anti- American slurs. Brian leaped up on the stage and grabbed the microphone and continued his barrage of insults and hatred. They really hated him and many wanted to kill him. Brian was good at this. He was so good in fact that the hero in this match was a guy called "the Butcher" if that tells you anything. How bad to you have to be to have the good guy be called a butcher"

On this night "The Butcher" did get his hands on Brian and literally beat him with a garbage can. The match was unorthodox to say the least. They barely got into the ring, before they fell right out. They then proceeded to whack each other with every object in the arena and in every area...there were absolutely no rules. The match drifted around the ring in the crowd and throughout the building. The 300 people that were there had to get up out of their seats and move around the building if they wanted to follow the action. People were running to all ends of the building to see and others were running away. There was no real security and the security that was there was unprepared for this mess. The women and children in the crowd who were looking for fake wrestling that was cute and nice.... didn't get that.... they got bloody wrestling that looked damn real. Unsure of what to expect I was about to see for the first time why he was called the, "Mad Man of Sudan". It was brutal; these were direct shots into his forehead with the points of the fork. The worst part was the "thwack, thwack" sound it made as he drove it home. Abby was standing over the Sheik jabbing away in the corner of the ring as blood flew directly back into his face. A woman stood, turned her head and shrieked in horror. She was right it was horrific, especially if you weren't expecting it. Thwack, thwack, thwack...and then Abby would stick his mouth on the wound and rub blood on his face to increase the effect. Apparently the threat of the AIDS virus was fake too in his world. If you enjoyed freakish barbarian fighting then on this night you got your 18.00 worth. The night ended with Brian getting into an argument with the management of the building, as this was not what they were expecting. Although I tell Abby that the match looked great and I thoroughly enjoyed it, it is not until later that I find out that Brian lost a large sum of money on this night and it wasn't that great.

Day 2 | July 17, 1991 | Genesis Convention Center | Gary, Indiana

Second night and now we all know what to expect. For me it was like going to a movie that you have already seen with someone who hasn't seen it yet. You try not to give away the ending but you can't wait to see the person react, as you know it is going to be good. The crowd is about the same size as the night before and once again they are in an arena that was too big. The matches go on as planned as Abby and the Sheik steal the show once again. Blood is everywhere as they take turns to who is going to bleed so that one of them can heal while the other bleeds. Abby tells us that his forehead is all scar tissue and that neither he nor the Sheik really have any feeling in their foreheads. So when Abby pulls the fork out and jams it in to the Sheik, he feels nothing. I move up from my area to get a closer look. The match went up the arena stairs out the double doors and literally on top of a car parked in the front of the arena. Security, teenagers, everyone was racing to the top of this arena, due to the fact that you couldn't see anything unless you happened to be in the front seat of the car that was now having a match on it's front hood. Brian got pummeled twice on this night, once by Abby who tried to unsuccessfully miss him with the garbage can and connected with his head full on and secondly at the end of the night as he once again lost a large sum of money.

Day 3 | July 18,1991 | Palmer Civic Center | Danville, Illinois

The next morning Brian calls me to his hotel room to discuss the situation he is in. Although I am never given exact figures, I know Brian has lost a grand amount of money. Brian tells me that in Danville tonight it needed to be successful for the tour to continue. I could have cried right there. It was as if my whole world was about to come crashing down. I could not believe it, this had just started and now it was going to end, in 3 days. The wrestlers got wind of trouble and came down to offer assistance and to find out what is going on. Abby offers the following suggestion which I was full in favor of, "Let's go down to the center of town and I will start chewing on some raw meat...and acting crazy.... a TV crew will come and we will get free press". Now I was unsure if it was going to work but I sure as hell wanted to see him do it. Brian declined the offer, he considered the legal ramifications, as Abby and the Sheik were likely to start a melee in this town and that most likely was going to back fire on us. So Abby's plan was shot down. Wendi Richter offered another alternative, which was for the wrestlers to come out to the t- shirt stand where I was and sign anything that was bought. I liked that idea as it would give me a chance to talk to Wendi and I thought it was a god idea. The ladies champion was so smart. I truly could have been Mr., Ladies Champion...it would have been something... This plan was accepted and several of the other wrestlers offered to come out and sign stuff as well. After the wrestlers had their matches they would come over to my table and sit for a while and sign whatever I sold. Wendi turned out to be the biggest draw and the Hillbilly was next otherwise people just watched the matches. This was a poor area and money for autographed wrestling junk from nobodies and stars of yesteryear may have not been a priority. Sheik and Abby never came out for autographs as they were generally bad guys and it wouldn't have been good for their image. On this night they were about to live up to their image.

This oddly set up arena also housed a small bar that was connected to the building. The people inside did not buy tickets for wrestling, as they were mere bar patrons. Mostly black people dressed sharp for a sophisticated night out in Danville, Illinois. One of the crew guys came out front to me and told me to be prepared, that worried me. They had gotten word that Abby and the Sheik were not thrilled with this bar being opened and something about it being disrespectful to the sport. All we knew was that they were planning something special. The match started as it always did with Brian ranting and raving and then the melee broke out. Chairs were flying, garbage cans were being tossed, rope was found and then was being used to strangle and don't forget the old faithful direct puncture with the fork. I didn't see anything that I hadn't seen the last 2 nights until I saw that they were coming my way. I had been warned, so I packed up all the souvenirs and was anticipating something, not sure what, but something.

So, Abby and Sheik were bashing and bleeding all over the place as they made their way toward me, then suddenly they took a turn, straight for that packed bar. Kids were running everywhere, women were screaming, security once again was limited and struggling with the scene. Abby and Sheik had typhooned themselves straight into the center of that bar flailing away as blood and sweat splattered throughout this mess of a scene. In character, Brian was pushing and yelling at Abby to get away from him, in reality he was thinking of the financial ramifications of them breaking something while they were in the bar. He was shouting at the Sheik to get out of the bar as Abby continued the barrage of garbage and chairs. For a brief moment I forget that I was in charge of souvenirs and I ran to get a better look like a 13-year-old fan all over again. Luckily, I regained my mind and got back before a barrage of tee shirts made it's way across the arena. This massacre of broken glass and screaming men and women went on for close to 10 minutes. No one except the bar patrons could see the action. The question was did they want to see the action" I think not as large black women in pink and silk dresses continually streamed out this bar shouting and yelling. Local police were called in as the two wrestlers were separated. The referee got on the microphone and announced that the match was over. The wrestlers were dragged back to the dressing room. I could only imagine that after the match they were laughing to themselves but I wasn't lucky enough to see it. The house lights went on and the night was over. Just then a large black woman came over to me and asked, "Sir how do I get this red dye out of my blouse.... I mean what kind of dye is this"". I thought to myself," Didn't you just see him dig that fork into his forehead...that ain't no dye lady". I told her to simply wash it and it will come out if not try the dry cleaner. More and more people started to pour out of that little bar spattered with blood on their faces and clothes. It was as if a tornado of blood had just swept through that bar and now it was gone. We got packed up as soon as we could and headed back to the hotel. Total t-shirt and souvenir sales were around 500.00 due to the autographs. I was hoping that that would be enough so that we could go just another few nights. I went to Brian with the good news that tonight we made $500.00. When he barely reached his hand out to take it, I knew my wrestling career was about to end.

My Final Day in Pro Wrestling

In the middle of the night Brian silently came to my hotel room and broke the news to me. The tour was over. Brian could take the financial punishment no more. I really wasn't sure of how much physical punishment he could have taken either, as he had a few cuts going across his cheek. I never learned how bad the financial damage was but when we spoke years later he said he was finally getting himself out from the debt his short wrestling tour had created. I estimate the loss was somewhere near 75,000.00 but I am unsure. I was to pack up my clothes and belongings and get on the bus in the morning, which was headed, to Baltimore, Maryland. The wrestlers would all be taken back to St. Louis, where Brian told them that he was going to re adjust the advertising and that we would reconvene in a few weeks. Abby was not happy and he never came out of his hotel room again to talk to any of us. Brian had to go up to Abby's hotel room by himself and break him the news. He told me to stand by if there was any trouble.... I thought to myself, "what was I going to do...hit him with a t-shirt"". This guy has been plucked with a fork for the last 3 nights; there was little I was going to be able to do if trouble arose. Luckily, Abby took the news ok, and we got on the bus and I said good-bye to everyone. I asked Chief Jules for a picture of him slamming me but he said he couldn't as he had a bad back, so he signed my poster. I desperately wanted to get Abdullah's autograph on that poster but he didn't come out of his room since hearing the news. However, one of the Beach Boys said that for the right offer Abby would sell the crappy belt that he wore. I was desperate for some memento from my days in wrestling, so I searched in my pocket and pulled out 125.00...that was all I had. . I got my courage up and began to run up to his room and make him an offer.... and then I stopped myself. The Beach Boys were pranksters and I may have been set up, so I stopped right at his door, but I did not knock. I turned and ran back downstairs and got on the bus. To this day, I think if I woke Abby up and had offered him 125.00 for his belt, he may have pulled the fork out on me, I will never know. Although, Abdullah the Butcher continued to utilize his fork in small wrestling markets throughout the globe for many more years following the summer of 91. I never saw him wearing that belt and I always wondered if somewhere he sold it.

Some interesting things I noted in those few days in wrestling.

1. Wrestlers talk about wrestling and wrestling stuff all the time. They talked about moves, past champions, best interviews, wrestling photos; you name it they never stopped. That was surprising.

2. The wrestling mat is neither soft nor as bouncy as you think. I had climbed into the ring and tried to make it bounce. At 185 pounds I could not do it. In the center of the ring was a large platform like spring. In this ring all slams were done in the center of the ring on this bouncy coil. If you missed it.... you caught the edge, and it hurt. I hurt my back from just a simple slam. When I was in the ring the younger wrestlers said it was fine but if the Sheik or Abby came I had to get down fast as they would look at it as an insult and I would get a beating. I got down pretty fast.

3. I also learned that if you get drunk in a traveling bus and fall asleep and then don't get off when the bus driver shuts it off...no air gets in there. I learned that the hard way, as I came out of the bus hours after everyone had already exited because I was hung over. I was covered in sweat and pale. All the wrestlers were by the pool and they all laughed at me. I jumped right in the pool with my clothes on to cool off

We never did resume that tour and the NWF was never heard from again. I never saw any of the younger wrestlers in any major wrestling programs or shows. After several more years of soul searching I did eventually go back to college and get the degree in Education that I had come so close to acquiring those many years before.

This story is dedicated to my father who surprisingly encouraged me to join that wrestling tour in the summer of 1991.

By Darren T.

wrote:

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