Riots & Fights (Part Three)
Calgary has a lovely new stadium, the Saddledome, opened in 1983. It cost 176 million Canadian dollars, and holds 20,000 people for a variety of events, including international ice hockey and rock concerts.
This was not so in my day. The wrestling venue in the sixties and seventies was the Stampede Corral, a huge barn and stables, which was also used for
indoor rodeos, and is still used for the April rodeo. The dressing rooms were well away from the ring, beyond the stables,
and at rodeo time, we had to navigate through wild bulls and crazy horses to get to them. It was during rodeo week in 1971
that Angus started a riot. Angus, who was the main man at the time, was really hot, and his very appearance fired up the
crowd. He had just won a match against Carlos Colon, but remained in the ring where he pounded and stomped Carlos some more. One of the "good guys" ran into the ring, but was also battered by Angus, as Carlos made his escape. Another wrestler went to help the first rescuer, but Angus clobbered him, too. This went on for some time, with bodies piling up in the ring, until Carlos Colon reappeared with his bleeding head bandaged, and tried to make a comeback against Angus. He only got a couple of punches in before Angus overpowered him, ripped off the bandage and strangled him with it. This was too much for the fans, and they piled into the ring to attack Angus, who tried to head for the safety of the dressing room. The rest of the fans joined in, there were thousands of them. Kurt Von Hess and I tried to "direct traffic", but the rampaging mob attacked us too. We were slipping and sliding on cow dung and horse pee, some of the fans ended up lying in it. The animals were kicking out and biting, a huge bull got loose and charged around. Our main concern though, was that any one of the mob could have weapon of some sort. As we moved
back, Angus looked for a shield, and spotted a large wooden grating which was part of the floor. When he tried to pick it
up, a fan stood on it, trapping his fingers. With a mighty heave, Angus threw the grating in the air with the fan standing
on it. The mob was still driving us back, but now Angus found a yoke for oxen .It was six feet long, and thick as a roof
beam. He picked it up and swung it round his head, clearing a path, which allowed us to reach a smaller area, where fewer
fans could get in. They were not so brave in lesser numbers, enabling the wrestlers to reach the dressing room at last,
and later slip out of the back door when the fans had gone. Angus and I took Hess back to our flat, where we phoned for
some steaks with garlic bread and drank a well deserved beer.
200 miles away from Calgary is Edmonton. Big John Quinn almost lost his life there. It happened during a six man tag, I was
partners with Kurt von Hess and Karl von Schotz, Quinn’s team was himself, Dan Kroffat, and Bill Cody. I started the match
wrestling Danny Kroffat. Our team plan was to drag Quinn, the "heavy gun" to our corner where we could all beat him up,
leaving the rest of his team at a disadvantage. I did not notice Von Schotz tying a noose in the tag rope. Quinn tagged in,
and I dragged him to the corner, but instead of battering him, Schotz placed the noose round his neck and threw him out over
the top rope. Quinns feet were a metre off the ground, the noose knotted tight, cutting off his air and blood to the brain.
I was next to him, could see he was gone, so I jumped down onto the floor and grabbed his legs to lift him and take some
pressure from the noose. The mob thought I was pulling on his legs to make it tighter, and attacked me. I managed to get my
body underneath Quinn for a moment, but the sheer weight of bodies pushed me away. Quinn’s face by now had gone from white
to blue and was now black. His black tongue lolled on his chest, I knew he was dead or near it. Suddenly, a flash of light
just above my head, and Quinn fell to the floor. I did not know what happened at the time, I was just grateful he was not
still hanging from the corner post. Danny Kroffat managed to pull the noose off, and Quinn was given mouth to mouth. A
couple of hours later, he was all right, but how close was that? It turned out that the flash of light was a Bowie knife
about two feet long. Whether it was aimed at the rope, or aimed at my head, but missed and cut the rope, we never found out,
but I felt the wind of it going past. The man with the knife vanished in the melee.
Later in Edmonton one Saturday night, I was Kurt Von Hess’s tag partner. We were getting hot there by now, a strong reaction
from the fans to everything we did. I got Hess to distract the referee while I pulled a choke chain from my trunks. Wrapping
it round my fist, I used it to smack my opponent in the mouth, hiding it again before the ref turned round. I then covered
him and gained the victory. We dashed to the dressing room before the mob could get to us. The following Saturday, I was in
the same ring during a match, when an almighty crash left a cloud of rust in the middle of the ring. I was as stunned as the
audience, who were quiet, except for one message -"Here, You can have this one". As the rust cloud cleared, I could see a
huge chain lying on the mat, its links nearly a foot long. It must have been from a train or a ship. At one end was a rusty
padlock the size of a dinner plate. Good job it missed me.
Donny Fargo came unstuck when he went for his choke chain during a match. His partner Greg Valentine, distracted the ref on
Donny’s signal. Donny got hold of one end of the chain in his trunks, gave a heave, and screamed as his kit of tools came
out too. He did not win the match, as he was disqualified, but the fans loved it! ... Luckily, when fans throw things at
you in the ring, they are usually lousy shots. In a Sydney club, someone threw a heavy Ronson table lighter at a wrestler,
which missed him, but hit a spectator on the other side of the ring. The poor old chap was knocked out, and referee Ronnie
Hansen left the ring and went over to him. I thought he was going to render assistance, but Ronnie put the lighter in his
pocket and got back in the ring.
Earl Black
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