The American Dream - what it means

First let me assure you this is NOT a story on Dusty Rhodes - the self proclaimed American Dream. It is my opinion on what has made America great and it’s all too clear in the light of last Tuesday’s cowardly terrorist attack on civilians - not soldiers.

 Please bear with me. In 1965 my family was visiting friends and I wandered away from the dinner table (to avoid my share of the clean up) and heard this gravelly voice coming from the other room. I had never heard anything like it and was so intrigued I had to go look and see what it was. I rounded the corner and saw a television set tuned to something I’d never seen before - Championship Wrestling from Florida with the great Gordon Solie on commentary. Immediately I was mesmerized. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t know the names or the storylines, but that really didn’t matter. I was hooked.

 I was ten years old when I saw that wrestling show and I went way beyond fan to practically an addict. My brother and I would begin to get excited Thursday night because we knew at 1:00 PM on Saturday wrestling was on. I was swept away in the emotion in the battle between good and evil. Jack Brisco was a young lion trying to break through the ‘glass ceiling’ to main event status. Terry and Dory Funk were the “bad guys” tag team with Pak Song as the top singles bad guy.  There were so many personalities and confrontations, but their logic and simplicity made it easy to follow and get caught up in the moment. My brother Donnie and I would go to the beach after the show was over and put our own matches on in the waves at the beach. We would hit imaginary ropes and take turns being the good guy so each of us could win. Occasionally I would slam Donnie knowing the wave was already on it’s way back out to sea thus removing any padding, but hey, this was WRESTLING you had to be tough.

 I went on to college and converted some really smart people into wrestling fans. We would save our beer money from dollar pitcher night at the Trophy Room and buy tickets to the Greensboro Coliseum wrestling matches. Man, life was good!!!!! I watched my hero’s and marveled at the spectacle. I loved the wrestling business for what it was; entertainment and that was enough for me.

Not too long after I graduated from Guilford College - home of the Quakers (an interesting side note. I wanted to play football in college so I had to find a school with a team equal to my skills. Guilford and I were MADE for each other. When I arrived, Guilford was in the midst of the nations longest active losing streak! In other words, Guilford was the worst team playing football in the US! I figured, “I could make this team!”)- I had an opportunity to have a televised wrestling match because one wrestler missed his flight. (This is an interesting story in it’s self that I’ll tell at another time). I don’t know why I lied to Eddie Graham the owner of CWF and legend in the business, but I did. When Eddie asked me if I brought my gear, without hesitation I said, “Yes, sir.”   I “wrestled” (I am bastardizing the word when describing my performance) Bugsy McGraw for 3 minutes and took the pounding of a lifetime. Did it hurt? Yes! But we thought wrestling was fake. It may have been fake or should I say entertainment, but when big stars had a guppy to beat up - that’s exactly what they did.

Was I upset? Hell NO! I loved every second of it. That was the beginning of a twenty two year love affair with the wrestling business. To this very day if someone asks me what would I change about my career? The answer is always the same - NOTHING.

  What does all this have to do with the American Dream? Only that the American Dream states to anyone: there is opportunity here in the United States to do what ever you want to do, as long as one doesn’t infringe upon the rights of others.  Nowhere else in the world could a Terry Taylor happen into a room where wrestling was on TV and then 15 years later have the best career EVER in the business he loved as a child. That’s the freedom and opportunity the United States of America stands for to every nation in the world. Some just don’t see the picture as clearly.

 GOD BLESS AMERICA 

Terry Taylor