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maisierobertson14's blog

Sometimes it is ideal to stop, make a stride back, and simply audit a portion of the features/lows of our opportunity here, and to recollect that lifes challenges don't start and end with regardless of whether to purchase 100 or 125 embroidered patches.

I think one about my features was being a professional wrestling ref for about possibly 100 evenings worth of sessions in the Upper Midwest when I was in my 30s, and still entirely coordinated. I worked in some lovely places, some genuine pits, and met some obnoxious characters, and truly cool individuals, yet overall...a TERRIFIC experience for a youthful single person.

I was there the night when it took 10-14 policemen to stifle Andre The Giant in Cedar Rapids...he recently snapped that night. He wore this HUGE calfskin coat, and not one region of dark cowhide was to be seen...covered in enormous biker patches, and French and American Flag patches. For a considerable length of time and years as a child experiencing childhood in northern Minnesota I watched AWA wrestling on Saturday evenings communicate from a station in Fargo, ND.

My sibling and I watched in complete loathsomeness as Mad Dog Vachon and his sibling The Butcher pretty much murdered Dr. X and The Crusher...the Vachons pounded The Crusher's head into the turnbuckle till he bled...and continued pounding, and hammering..The Crusher's injuries really spurted blood in time with his heartbeats as per ring commentator Roger Kent (truly outstanding ever!). To several 7 and multi year old's such was reality evolving stuff.

Quick FORWARD 25 years, and I'm working matches in Iowa City, whos there...THE MAD DOG. We met backstage and had a great visit. Soon thereafter his vehicle came up short on gas on the expressway, he began strolling to a station, and got hit by an alcoholic driver and lost his leg. Hes one of the great ones in this world. My mother, at that point an attendant at the University of Iowa healing facility framework, dealt with him in the clinic and I went to him a couple times...he couldn't have been more hospitable...I figure that goes to his being a gourmet chef!!!! An exemplary terrible things-happen-to-great individuals thing.

Before we met, The Queen was ringside when Jesse "The Body" Ventura, influenced his ring to entrance embellished wonderfully in his hot-pink quill boa, pink butterfly tights and rhinestone shades. He and his accomplice Adrian Adonis went up against Verne Gagne and child Greg in an enclosure coordinate. She got hitched on Saturday and on Sunday they were watching wrestling on TV, called for tickets. The call to the movies just before them was to drop a couple of ringside seats. They went to the sessions, got their ringside seats, and I'll be darned if Jesse didn't give her the shades he wore to the ring. Amid a portion of my matches I was a "foot sole area ref" and wore them to the ring. I had my chief, Julie Crabb, an extremely expert embroiderer coincidentally, go with me to the ring in the midst of a tune of BOOO's and flying half full brew mugs.

In Duluth MN, Nick Bockwinkle hurled me over the best rope, and afterward got me supper (well, a cheeseburger and a stale brew) soon thereafter to state OOPS. He later revealed to me he, "intended to toss me THROUGH the ropes, not over them." He was the first to utilize The Piledriver back in the day....now it's entirely normal on broadly broadcast wrasslin' appears, yet at that point, WOW...it SHOULD have been prohibited in 17 expresses the manner in which he did it. Fiendish Nick is a standout amongst the most eloquent individuals I at any point knew. He was a second era wrestler, and grabbed a couple of things from his father, and mic-work was unquestionably one of them.

His accomplice Ray "The Crippler" Stevens was likely the meanest individual I at any point worked. He not just pitched me over the best rope more than once, however he really delighted in hitting people...me specifically I presume. He thumped me unconscious in Devils Lake ND, Duluth, MN, AND Thunder Bay Ontario....an worldwide awful guy...no love lost on my end...there are individuals here that believe despite everything i'm concussed due to the rehashed hits to the head....I'm hitch sew shure...

Out of every one of them however, my most loved may be Mighty Joe Macko, "The Last In-Line of the Wrestling Gagne Family". On the off chance that you've at any point seen Verne or Greg Gagne, and afterward took a gander at Joe, you'd know how senseless that presentation is/was. THE CONSUMMATE JOBBER (he buckled down, yet never won a match...got beat up, and stepped, however I NEVER raised his hand), in that he'd ref one session, wrestle in another, and put on a veil and ACE wrap his rich stomach for the Battle Royale toward the finish of the night. He'd convey an accordion backstage to the locker room and engage those of us that required greater amusement and had, doubtlessly, one of the most exceedingly terrible performing voices ever. In any case, he's a performer and was in the best business on the planet in the event that you get a kick out of the chance to engage individuals.

I figure the purpose of this will be this: Take one minute and think back. As I compose this, I'm overflowed with recollections of hot sweat-soaked ring gigs, cool showers, and going out in - 20 temps to a chilly auto and heading to the following night's show...not such an awesome memory, however some I'll esteem until the point when the day I leave this earth...except for the bunch on my head.

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