The Element Of Fear In Pro Wrestling Is A Thing Of The Past (But Bray Wyatt’s Working On It)

Anybody, anywhere who does not fear the name Abdullah the Butcher is either an insane fool or they’re lying to ya! – “Playboy” Gary Hart

The first live wrestling show I ever attended was in my East Texas grade school gymnasium. I was 8 years old and the Main Event that night was One Man Gang vs. my childhood hero, “The Modern Day Warrior” Kerry Von Erich. I don’t remember a thing about the rest of the show, but I remember this: One Man Gang beat Kerry bloody with a chain in front of a sea of children, then threatened to do the same to me and a few of my friends as he left the ring. It was terrifying; it was awesome.

Several years ago, I saw One Man Gang at a wrestling convention but I didn’t approach him. I’m a grown-ass man, pay all my bills, travel the world in search of fun and adventure, but the second I saw Gang up close, I was 8 years old again. It wasn’t that I was still afraid of the man; I just wanted to hold on to a bit of that feeling I felt as a kid watching him lay waste to my heroes.

I know times have changed regarding the manner in which professional wrestling is presented, but even as a kid I knew things were predetermined. But, you see, the magic wasn’t in One Man Gang convincing me pro wrestling is real. The magic was in him convincing me he was real.

“One, Two Freddy’s After You…”

I am not a fan of the horror movie genre, but I saw my share in my youth. As a child of the ’70s and ’80s I’m also well aware I grew up during its apex. The very year (1984) I became a wrestling fan, A Nightmare on Elm Street was released. A burned up bastard with knives for fingers, hunting you down in your dreams? Thanks for the trauma, Wes Craven.

That same year, Jason returned to the scene with the 4th installment of Friday the 13th. Sure, plenty of those movies are ridiculous, but a big-ass walking corpse with a hockey mask and a machete is gonna always be enough to tap me out.

Reality Is Scary 

Scaring the hell out of kids is a lost art in professional wrestling. One of the coolest things about hitting my stride as a wrestling fan in the mid-‘80s was the presence of so many classic “monster heels”. With the wrestling business still closely guarded at that time, young fans invested emotionally in many of the more talented characters of that era, particularly those with a sense of realism to them. Stan Hansen scared me to death when I was young. Why? Because, being a Texas boy, I could relate to a lunatic redneck, flailing wildly at everything within swinging distance. I called him Uncle Thomas. After spending a few deer camps in close proximity to a bunch of East Texas lunatics gettin’ drunk and firing off guns, buying into the Borger, Texas native hook, line and sinker was easy. 

The aforementioned One Man Gang was another wrestler capable of putting fear in young heart. Why? Because he was a massive, chain-wielding biker with a wild-ass hairdo and a surly disposition. Those dudes existed in my town! Hell, my dad, then a defense attorney, represented tons of ‘em!

Turning the volume up on characters like that, two crazed and out of control men with very little regard for social mores, just made sense to me, especially during that era of professional wrestling. Thinking about it in terms of the horror movie genre, Stan Hansen and One Man Gang weren’t all that different from Leatherface. What made that dude a scarier prospect than, say, the Wolfman? Simple: Leatherface could have actually lived on the farm next to mine! This is a messed up world, and we’ve all watched plenty of nightly news. A crazy dude wearing a dead skin mask and cutting people to ribbons with a chainsaw? For a country boy, this is a completely plausible scenario, folks!

The Madman From Sudan

Another legendary monster of that era (and the character that scared me the most as a young wrestling fan) was Abdullah the Butcher. His name made children cringe, and his entrance, particularly when he was led to the ring by the evil genius Gary Hart was perfection. Watching Abdullah rock back in forth in the corner with that hood over his head built anticipation. After Hart removed the hood and Abdullah unleashed his brand of uncontrolled madness on your favorite wrestlers, you had no choice but to believe. There was never a time in my youth when I didn’t have a subtle gnawing at my stomach before an Abdullah match.

The Butcher’s body of work with Bruiser Brody alone, whether in Puerto Rico, Japan or World Class, resulted in a decade-long bloodbath. I still remember sitting on the floor of my living room, 3 feet from the television, equal parts enthralled and horrified at the sight of Abby working that fork over Brody’s forehead. He was far from a technical wizard and Brody would just flat beat people up, but they fought all over the world for years thanks to their ability to make fans believe everything they were seeing, all while staying monsters.

The Butcher borrowed heavily from the horror film genre, his vacant eyes a window into the soul of a man who wanted nothing more than complete carnage.

“Ki Ki Ki Ma Ma Ma…Ki Ki Ki Ma Ma Ma…” 

There was no shortage of pro wrestling monsters back then. The Missing Link slammed his own head into turnbuckles that were supposedly meant to be used to harm his opponents. The Sheik hurled balls of fire from his fingertips into the eyes of popular babyfaces. The Great Kabuki was a martial arts killer sent from Japan to put an end to our beloved Von Erich family. Kamala the Ugandan Giant was an African headhunter. Yeah, a headhunter, and throughout my childhood the heads he was after were those of The Von Erichs, Hulk Hogan and Sgt. Slaughter, all “good guys”, all massive fan favorites.  

Back when Pro Wrestling Illustrated was something you could pick up at any gas station or grocery store, I can recall flipping through pages and running across black and white photos of Lord Humongous in a Mid-South steel cage against Jake Roberts. The Humongous gimmick, which is still being played sparingly today on the Indy circuit, was a great example of an unstoppable monster. The character, a take on “the Humugous” from Mad Max II: The Road Warrior, was yet another “monster heel” created to instill fear in the hearts of young fans. He wasn’t there to do moonsaults; Lord Humongous was a silent stalker of prey. A guy jumping off a ladder? That’s scary for him. The idea of never being able to get away from a masked killer, despite you moving as fast as you keep while they seem to be moving in slow motion? That’s scary for you

By the mid-‘90s, monsters just didn’t get protected the same way they did in previous decades. Overexposure is likely the main culprit, but the pro wrestling business going out of its way to hit us over the head with the word “entertainment” didn’t help either. Remember what I wrote earlier: the magic wasn’t in One Man Gang convincing me pro wrestling is real. The magic was in him convincing me he was real.

For a short while, Kane perfectly encapsulated what it means to be a “monster” in pro wrestling: silent, methodical, and single-minded in his need to destroy. The Boogeyman also had a short, scary run in WWE as well, but the company was quick to pivot into comedy with both characters. Abyss was a great monster in the early-’00s, until TNA sent him to therapy and turned him into a lawyer. 

Let Him In

Today, Bray Wyatt and his Fiend is the only guy I can think of actively trying to scare the audience on a psychological level. The months of build through his Firefly Funhouse segments have been sinister, frighteningly funny and with just the right amount of jabbing at his former self: a cult leader character with all the promise of many of the previously mentioned monsters, ultimately prostituted by WWE in the name of “putting smiles on faces”. It would nice if the company would protect the Fiend’s “fear factor” the way classic monsters like Abdullah the Butcher and The Missing Link did decades prior.

Whether WWE holds up its end of things or not, one thing is certain: Bray Wyatt is doing everything in his power to rekindle that element of terror. By worrying more about making you afraid over making you smile, he’s proving there’s still plenty of room at the top of the industry for a guy who just wants you to believe.

Abdullah the Butcher Vinyl Figure

Kamala the Ugandan Giant T-shirt

Freddy Krueger Nightmare on Elm Street 8″ MEGO Action Figure

WWE Bray Wyatt Firefly Funhouse Chainsaw T-shirt

WWE Bray Wyatt Heal/Hurt Gloves

WWE Bray Wyatt Action Figure

Advertisements

Gino Hernandez’s Star Burned Bright, But His Vices Cost Him Everything

Chavo Guerrero, crying about how “I spent two years of my life away from my family to achieve winning this belt in Tokyo, Japan.” Well, Chavo, like the saying goes, “A fool loses tomorrow reachin’ back for yesterday”. So, Chavo, you’re an idiot and Paul Boesch, you’re an idiot for making me defend this title in a rematch! – Gino Hernandez

“Gorgeous” Gino Hernandez was everything a wrestling promoter could possibly want in ‘bad guy’. At 28 years old, he’d already spent close to a dozen years in professional wrestling, working in several territories as both a babyface and a heel. With “movie star” looks and charisma, coupled with a larger than personality and promos than were drenched in a brash cockiness, Gino had the look of the total package. What hid beneath the tanned exterior, however, was a man careening down a mountain at a million per hour with no control of the wheel.

I have previously mentioned that I grew up on World Class Championship Wrestling, the Dallas based promotion that harbored the legendary Von Erich family. Born in 1977, I came to know professional wrestling during a boom period for WCCW, witnessing, firsthand, the prime years of several legendary figures in Texas wrestling, including Kerry and Kevin Von Erich, The Fabulous Freebirds, “Iceman” King Parsons and the aforementioned Gino Hernandez.

I was jumping feet first into pro wrestling fandom round about the same time Gino was making his way back to WCCW from the Joe Blanchard-led Southwest Champion Wrestling out of San Antonio. Hernandez was was coming off main event runs in both San Antonio and Houston, including winning the Southwest Champion Wrestling tag team titles five times between 1981-’83 with another dastardly heel: future Four Horseman member Tully Blanchard. As “The Dynamic Duo”, Gino and Tully had bloody feuds with the likes of Dick Slater, Wahoo McDaniel, Junkyard Dog and Ken Lucas, and were the biggest draw in San Antonio.

The Neon Lights Of Dallas

When Gino resurfaced in WCCW in ‘84, he immediately made enemies of the crowd and resumed a feud with the Von Erichs that dated back to ‘78 when he warred with David Von Erich over the NWA Texas Heavyweight Championship. After David’s unfortunate death in Japan in February of ‘84, a tournament was held to crown a new heavyweight champion. Hernandez beat the “The Nature Boy” Ric Flair in the finals of the tournament, winning the championship and carrying it for 401 days. It was the 5th of his 6 reigns as Texas Heavyweight Champion.

During the last half of ‘84, he paired with Nickla Roberts (who not only had a childhood crush on Hernandez, but would go on to even greater fame as Baby Doll, the valet for his old tag partner, Tully Blanchard), the two got into a heated feud with Mike Von Erich and Sunshine, resulting in a series of mixed tag matches. This included a brawl between Gino, Nickla, Mike and Stella Mae French (with Sunshine in their corner) at WCCW’s first Wrestling Star Wars event at the Cotton Bowl on October 27th, 1984.

After dropping the heavyweight title to Brian Adias in September of ‘85., Gino concentrated on previously formed tag teams with both Jake “The Snake” Roberts and “Gentleman” Chris Adams. The three men also worked together in 6-man tag matches versus the Von Erichs, but it was the combination of Hernandez and Adams, the longtime popular babyface Brit turned superkicking bad guy, that truly captured the hate and vitriol of the Dallas crowds. Again using the name “The Dynamic Duo”, Gino fed off Adams, taking his cockiness to a whole new level. He and Adams (who previously had been embroiled in a hot feud with Kevin Von Erich) redoubled their efforts against the brothers, feuding with the family for the better part of 7 months.

The pair filmed interviews in custom suits, sitting in expensive sports cars and bragging about their extravagant lives. According to legendary manager “Playboy” Gary Hart, at least where Gino was concerned, it wasn’t an act: “Gino was the kind of guy that always drove the best cars, wore the best clothes, had the best watches and went with the best women”.

The Dynamic Duo’s time together culminated in a huge blow off at the Cotton Bowl, where they lost a Hair Match against Kerry and Kevin Von Erich. I still remember belly laughing at the sight of Hernandez being carried back into the ring to get his head shaved after he’d tried to escape. Shortly thereafter, the Dynamic Duo split, with Gino turning on Adams, ultimately blinding him with “Freebird hair cream”, a hair removal product used by “Freebird” Buddy Roberts in ‘83 during his feud with King Parsons.

Flying Too Close To The Sun

With Chris Adams a top babyface once again (and Hernandez as hot as ever as a heel), the stage was set for them to have a much needed big angle for WCCW. Business was down after David’s passing and the company needed a fresh, hot angle to goose the territory. Sadly, the feud never reached its apex. After missing a couple of house shows, several phone calls were placed to his apartment. On February 5th, 1986, after hearing nothing from Gino, booker David Manning sent World Class official Rick Hazzard to the wrestler’s apartment. After getting no answer at the door, Hazzard jumped a wall to look into a window on the bedroom side of the apartment. He saw a set of feet on the floor, peeking out from just beyond the bed. Calls were made and Hazzard, along with local law enforcement and Gino’s manager, Walter Aymen, entered the Highland Park apartment. Their worst fears became a reality; Gino Hernandez was dead. He was just 28 years old.

Initially, Hernandez’s death was treated as a homicide case. A loaded gun was found near Gino, but no drugs were found on site. Hazzard supposedly told Manning when he discovered Gino’s sugar bowl of cocaine, he flushed it before the police found it. Following the autopsy report, his death was ruled as an accidental cocaine overdose.

Telephone, Telegram, Tell-a-wrestler

In pro wrestling, however, nothing is cut and dry. Though it is true Gino’s issues with cocaine ultimately cost him his life, many within the industry weren’t convinced he’d overdosed. Kevin Von Erich has said Hernandez was convinced someone was trying to kill him, even going so far as to purchase a gun for protection. David Manning backs up Kevin’s claims, saying Gino told him he needed a gun because he was being followed.

“It wasn’t like it was a secret that Gino did drugs. From smokin’ dope to cocaine to uppers and downers; it was the ‘70s and ‘80s and we all did it (but) I never saw Gino Hernandez out of control on drugs,” said Bruce Prichard, who spent years with Gino working for Paul Boesch in Houston.

Gossip flew around with reckless abandon. One claim had Gino owing money on a gambling debt. Another rumor, and perhaps the most ridiculous, was that Chris Adams had killed Hernandez for blinding him. One rumor that seemingly had meat on the bone, however, was that Gino had gotten sideways with a Houston drug dealer. Gino’s mother, Patrice Aguirre, says she remembers when a man named John Royal came to her home and, in front of Gino’s sister said, “Gino owed me a lot of money, but don’t you worry about it. I’m gonna pay for his funeral.” Royal also spoke at Gino’s funeral, giving a eulogy Bruce Prichard has described as, “just weird”.

Furthering the suspicion of foul play, Gino’s apartment had a deadbolt on the front door which, according to Manning, Gary Hart and Aguirre, he always kept locked. Additionally, the coroner in charge of Gino’s autopsy reported the wrestler had five times the amount of cocaine in his system needed to kill him. The coroner’s report also stated Hernandez was Hispanic, morbidly obese and uncircumcised. None of these things were true. Aguirre and Gino’s ex-wife, Janice Bancroft, wondered if it was even Gino’s body the coroner had reviewed, ultimately deciding to not make waves out of fear for their families. Regardless, Aguirre maintains Hernandez’s death was no accidental overdose: “As a mother, I have a lot of questions that no one has ever answered for me.”

The Truth Will (Supposedly) Set You Free

John Royal, who in 2018 completed a 30 year sentence for drug trafficking disputes the claims he had anything to do with Hernandez’s murder, saying, “Gino didn’t owe me any money. I was with him until 1 o’clock in the morning the night he died. We were at a club and he was in a good mood, buying a lot of drinks and drinking a lot. I assume he was doing some drugs. Then he left with some airline stewardesses and that’s the last time I saw him alive.”

A fellow trafficker (who chose to remain anonymous) spoke to the creators of the show “Dark Side of the Ring” during the making of the documentary “The Mysterious Death of Gorgeous Gino”, stating he and Hernandez were part of a group of drug runners. Unfortunately, he said, he believes Gino’s own drinking and drug abuse got the best of him.

Fact is often stranger than fiction, but in this instance, odds are good Gino died exactly how the coroner said he died. Considering the times, it’s not all that shocking there are inaccuracies in the autopsy. Are Gino’s claims of being followed and of people wanting him dead legitimate? Perhaps, but it’s also just as likely he was suffering from cocaine psychosis and his paranoia stemmed from the increased drug abuse.

Are there plenty of unanswered questions? Of course, but one thing that isn’t up for questioning is Gino’s level of talent as a pro wrestler. In his short career, Hernandez main evented in Detroit, Houston, San Antonio, Japan and Dallas. Tully Blanchard has said he tried to get him to come to the Carolinas, where he undoubtedly would have found his way at or near the top of the card. He was just that good. As Gary Hart once said, “Gino was a lost soul, but was he was everything you could ever want (in a pro wrestler)”.

Randy Savage Unreleased: the Unseen Matches of the Macho Man

Getting Rowdy: the Unreleased Matches of Roddy Piper