Terry Taylor's Perspective 8/2/02

After the applause dies. 

For the past several weeks I’ve talked about the inside of the professional wrestling world as seen through my eyes. I’ve had many wonderful and memorable events decorating the wild ride that has been my career. Most are humorous, some are sad, and some unbelievable, but all are TRUE.

The one thing I’d like to discuss today is the state of the retired professional wrestler. It brings tears to my eyes to hear of the plight of many of the incredible characters that forged the business into the moneymaking opportunity it is today. At 47 I am a dinosaur to some wrestlers, yet to some of my dearest friends who passed the torch to me many years ago, I am still a “kid.”

I used to wonder why the old timers would call me and other 30-year-old men “kid” and now I see why. It isn’t a reference to age, but to life experience. They knew what we couldn’t – that the self-absorbed rookie didn’t know everything. They were secure enough in themselves and would chuckle as we made @$$e$ of ourselves. The one rule that I remembered always rang the most true:

 There are no stars in the locker room.

 That meant we are all equal as men and wrestlers, we were all necessary cogs in the wheel that was the wrestling business. No wrestler ever started a successful career in the ring by himself. He needed the co-coordinated efforts of everyone involved to become a star. Every man knew what was needed to get the desired result. Whether it was in his character’s best interest or severely hurt his credibility as a viable draw – each man did what was best for the BUSINESS.

Today it’s a much different picture. Professional wrestling has become “sports entertainment” just the same as basketball, football, and soccer. If you don’t think professional sports is entertainment, then you’re in denial. The one thing that has screwed up wrestling is the very thing that makes it so appealing to young athletes – the money.

Money has corrupted the sports world while making millionaires out of high school graduates entering the NBA. While at the same time these kids never learn the foundation, morals, and responsibilities that come from earning that money over a period of time through hard work. Through the ups and downs of life’s experiences, wisdom is gained and the appreciation of the value of what has been earned. Today’s athletes have high dollar agents insulating them from the realities of negotiation and ultimately – the real world.

What has this got to do with wrestling? Everything! The old timers never made enough to retire from the sport to which they willingly gave their life’s blood. Every wrestler leaves a piece of his existence in each building in which he performed. Very few old timers ever made enough money to retire on their savings and investments. Most don’t make enough do anything except stay IN the business. They never made enough to leave on their own terms. They watched their skills erode, along with their health as some cocky young stud was poised to take his place.

Every athlete knows his career will end. They just don’t know when. I’ve said this before, but it is brutally true:

 Athletes die two deaths.

We all know we’re going to die, the fact that makes life livable is we don’t know WHEN the end is coming. When we die – it’s over, but when an athlete’s career is over (the first ‘death’) he must carry on in a life unfamiliar to him. There are no more cheers, or people wanting to be his friend, and no sense of whom he is. For as long as an athlete is playing – he knows who he is. His self worth, his confidence, and ultimately his identity are interlinked with his profession and performance.

Al Pacino plays a football coach (and plays it very well) in a movie called “On Any Given Sunday.” Al’s team is about to take the field in a do or die playoff game and Al’s character has an epiphany. He realizes his coaching career is about over. His motivational speech becomes a soul-searching revelation and he’s laser like in the precision in which he gets to the heart of the matter. Al hates who he has become and he says something I’ve found to be true: “As you get older, things get taken away from you.”

That really hit me because as I’ve gotten older, things have been taken from me. I’ve had 11 knee surgeries, one back surgery, I broke my neck and didn’t know it and kept wrestling, and every night I gave everything I had to the fans because I loved what I did. What does all this mean? Things have been taken from me. I can’t run let alone bend either knee past 90 degrees; I hurt all the time, and every day I find another little something I can’t do anymore. The one thing taken away that hurts the most is – my self- respect.

In 1995, Eric Bischoff fired me saying I was too old. I was 39 years old. I felt like I had a lot more to give back to the business, I knew I could pass some of the knowledge I had to a young wrestler. I knew my role and wanted to pass on the ‘art’ of the business to a worthy rookie so the business as we knew it would survive. I never got the opportunity to do that; I never got to leave on my own terms.

The good thing is I was granted the opportunity to teach by being in the creative end of the business. I was allowed to write TV’s that were exciting; I was in WCW in its heyday, and the WWF in one of its best years ever - 1999. I helped get Goldberg to the pinnacle and was there when Stone Cold, the Rock, Mick Foley, the Undertaker, and the rest of the WWF were on fire.

Is this an exercise in glad-handing myself? No, it’s a chance to tell you about Superstar Billy Graham, who’s desperately waiting for a liver in Phoenix, Arizona. Billy influenced the wrestling careers of Governor Jesse ‘The Body” Ventura and the biggest name in the business; Hulk Hogan. One can see the direct imitations and if it’s the most sincere form of flattery – Billy should be flattered. The only problem is he’s dying because of a failing liver.

I saw Billy in June at a Christian Conference and thought he had plenty of donors lined up.

Why wouldn’t he?

He was a huge star, he had millions of adoring fans, and the boys with whom he wrestled liked him, so why is he waiting and waiting for a donor? If there’s any honor in this business or this world – someone should step forward and offer to at least try and see if their blood types match and apply for the test. Right?

Normally, I would assume no wrestlers would help because the business has encouraged selfishness. Our age old code of “you watch my back, I’ll watch yours” – is dead. Poor Superstar, he’s out of luck.

I am happy to say 3 wrestlers have applied to try and donate 60% of their liver to be used in a living donor transplant. Don’t freak out, the liver is the only organ that regenerates. It’s still a very serious surgery, but it warms my heart that 3 men have applied to volunteer.  None of the wrestlers wanted their name printed because this is a personal decision and their privacy is respected.

We hope one of the wrestlers is a match, but if not – if there is a wrestler reading this that would like to try and save a man’s life, please email me at this address. We can talk about the screening process and the risks. There is no greater sacrifice than to give your life for another. Thankfully, that isn’t necessary. In this case it reads, “There is no greater satisfaction than to give new life to another.”

 Please give this special human being the gift of life.

How would you feel if the situation was reversed?

Until next week,
Terry Taylor