Black Widow
07-23-2008, 10:59 PM
By the time Ted DiBiase came to WWE in 1987, he already had been a top guy in several territories and was regarded as one of the best workers in the business. It was his “Million Dollar Man” character in WWE, however, that made DiBiase a superstar.
DiBiase brilliantly portrayed one of wrestling’s most memorable heel characters and was involved in one of the most famous angles of all-time — Andre The Giant selling the WWE title to DiBiase after an evil twin referee helped Andre defeat Hulk Hogan for the belt in the most-watched match in professional wrestling history (33 million viewers on NBC).
DiBiase, 54, who retired 15 years ago due to a serious neck injury and went on to become an ordained minister, writes about his in- and out-of-the-ring exploits in his recently released autobiography, Ted DiBiase: The Million Dollar Man.
I spoke briefly with DiBiase in a phone interview last week.
You wrote an autobiography about 10 years ago. Why did you decide to do another one at this point?
The first book, if you look at it, was really more about my spiritual journey, and a number of people have said, “We’d really like you to tell us what your wrestling life was like,” because that book didn’t focus on my wrestling life. Being part of the Legends program in WWE, they approached me as well. They said, “Gosh, Ted, you did a book 10 years ago but we didn’t push that book and it really wasn’t about your career, so why don’t we do another one. I said, “Great. Let’s do it.”
In the book, you give insight into what wrestling was like during the territorial days. What would you say are the advantages that guys who came through that system like yourself have over guys who break into the business now?
It’s the opportunity for experience. The way that you used to learn this trade was you were invited into the fraternity if somebody liked you. There was no wrestling school that you could go and apply for. Somebody had to bring you in because they liked you, and basically that person, whoever that mentor was, would put you in the ring, teach you the basic fundamentals — hammerlock; headlock; this is how you take a hip toss; this is how you take a slam — and then they threw you in the deep end of the pool.
There was a place we used to wrestle in the Panhandle of Texas called the Hereford Bull Barn. It was a little place, but you’re out there in front of a live crowd and you don’t know anything. But you’re in there with a veteran who does know, and you listen. You listen to him and you listen to the people, and you do that night after night after night. You do that and you become a student of the business and you observe the other guys — I used to watch all the guys that were making the money.
I remember when I was in Mid-South and they used to tape interviews every Wednesday morning, and I wasn’t required to go to the interviews because I was a rookie and I wasn’t cutting any interviews — I was a curtain jerker. But I went every Wednesday anyway because I was going to watch those guys and I was going to glean from them. I knew what their program was. I would watch those angles take place and then I would listen to the interviews that they’d cut so I could learn. So you had to be a student of the business.
The opportunity that afforded guys was that you could go to some little territory and you could learn how to work there, and then you could go to the next territory and the next territory. You could go to three of four territories, and then the first time you went into New York, nobody knew who you were. That’s no available anymore, so the kids today are at a disadvantage because they don’t have that opportunity to learn it that way. They’re thrown into the mix before they’re really ready and they have to learn it as they go.
What is one thing you would like people who read the book to come away with?
I would say respect for my industry. The one thing I have dealt with my entire life – I grew up in wrestling – is that I had to listen to all the kids at school say, “Aw, that phony stuff.” And they never realized. Even today – I do this ministry that I am a part of out in Phoenix, and I go to this athletes conference every summer, and there’s this big fundraising banquet where they honor a lot of great athletes – they’ve honored Deion Sanders and Tom Landry. But this one guy named Joe Jackson – he’s a very good friend of mine and he played football for the Minnesota Vikings – he introduced me and he says, “Now to a not-so-real sport.” And I got up there this year and I said, “Joe, let me tell you something, pal. There are a lot of guys that did what you did, and when they got through doing what you did, then they tried wrestling thinking, ‘Well, I’m going to walk in here and this should be easy.’ They made it playing football, but they couldn’t hang here.”
It’s like going to boot camp and people don’t realize it. The WWE produces five hours of television a week, 11 pay-per-views a year [editor’s note: the actual number is 14]. If you watched the last WrestleMania, the Super Bowl could not compete with the pageantry. I just want people to come away with an understanding that what we do takes a great deal of effort, a lot of skill and it’s a lot of hard work. I want people to come away with a greater appreciation for what wrestling is.
You talk in the book about almost being chosen to be NWA world champion and later almost being the WWE champion. When you look back at your career, are there any regrets that you never got those title runs?
Not really. Yes, it would be nice because I loved the business and grew up in it to be able to say, “Yes, I was the NWA world champion, and yes, I was the WWE world champion.” That would be nice to say. But in reality, titles in wrestling are props. If you don’t need the prop, obviously, you’re a better wrestler. Instead of going with the WWE title like they had actually talked about, they created this Million Dollar title for me to have my own belt. To me, it made sense. It was like, “Look at this arrogant so-and-so. He pays no respect to the actual title so he’s going to create his own.” It just fit the character, and that’s what we’re all in this business for – to make money. So, no, no regrets.
You wrote that you discouraged your sons from following in your footsteps just the way your father, Iron Mike DiBiase, discouraged you. Now that all three of your sons have followed you into the business, what advice have you given them? And what are your impressions so far of Ted Jr. on TV?
The reason that I discouraged my boys as I was discouraged was not because of wrestling itself. The reason I discouraged them as a father was from having lived the lifestyle – like my father did – and understanding the hardships that come along with it. It’s not the wrestling itself. It’s the 90 percent divorce rate. It’s all the guys that died of drug and alcohol abuse. And again, to the credit of the WWE, the reason that as a father I have now given my sons the blessing to pursue wrestling is because of all the things that are now available to the talent that weren’t 20 years ago – the drug-testing policy, the work schedule.
Vince [McMahon] built this huge company. But anytime you build a company, you have to crawl before you can walk and you have to walk before you can run. We basically paved the path for these kids today. We would go out for weeks at a time without seeing home. These guys now work four days a week and they go home three every week, unless they go on a European tour. It’s more conducive to having a family and living a more normal life. My early impressions of my son are good, and I’m trying to be as unbiased as I can. But I heard it from all of my friends. I’d get a call from Michael Hayes or Arn Anderson or Steve Keirn, who’s running the school, and they said, “Ted, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. The kid’s got it. And if he keeps going in the direction he’s going, then the sky’s the limit.” Early on, he’s handled himself very well and I’m very proud.
DiBiase brilliantly portrayed one of wrestling’s most memorable heel characters and was involved in one of the most famous angles of all-time — Andre The Giant selling the WWE title to DiBiase after an evil twin referee helped Andre defeat Hulk Hogan for the belt in the most-watched match in professional wrestling history (33 million viewers on NBC).
DiBiase, 54, who retired 15 years ago due to a serious neck injury and went on to become an ordained minister, writes about his in- and out-of-the-ring exploits in his recently released autobiography, Ted DiBiase: The Million Dollar Man.
I spoke briefly with DiBiase in a phone interview last week.
You wrote an autobiography about 10 years ago. Why did you decide to do another one at this point?
The first book, if you look at it, was really more about my spiritual journey, and a number of people have said, “We’d really like you to tell us what your wrestling life was like,” because that book didn’t focus on my wrestling life. Being part of the Legends program in WWE, they approached me as well. They said, “Gosh, Ted, you did a book 10 years ago but we didn’t push that book and it really wasn’t about your career, so why don’t we do another one. I said, “Great. Let’s do it.”
In the book, you give insight into what wrestling was like during the territorial days. What would you say are the advantages that guys who came through that system like yourself have over guys who break into the business now?
It’s the opportunity for experience. The way that you used to learn this trade was you were invited into the fraternity if somebody liked you. There was no wrestling school that you could go and apply for. Somebody had to bring you in because they liked you, and basically that person, whoever that mentor was, would put you in the ring, teach you the basic fundamentals — hammerlock; headlock; this is how you take a hip toss; this is how you take a slam — and then they threw you in the deep end of the pool.
There was a place we used to wrestle in the Panhandle of Texas called the Hereford Bull Barn. It was a little place, but you’re out there in front of a live crowd and you don’t know anything. But you’re in there with a veteran who does know, and you listen. You listen to him and you listen to the people, and you do that night after night after night. You do that and you become a student of the business and you observe the other guys — I used to watch all the guys that were making the money.
I remember when I was in Mid-South and they used to tape interviews every Wednesday morning, and I wasn’t required to go to the interviews because I was a rookie and I wasn’t cutting any interviews — I was a curtain jerker. But I went every Wednesday anyway because I was going to watch those guys and I was going to glean from them. I knew what their program was. I would watch those angles take place and then I would listen to the interviews that they’d cut so I could learn. So you had to be a student of the business.
The opportunity that afforded guys was that you could go to some little territory and you could learn how to work there, and then you could go to the next territory and the next territory. You could go to three of four territories, and then the first time you went into New York, nobody knew who you were. That’s no available anymore, so the kids today are at a disadvantage because they don’t have that opportunity to learn it that way. They’re thrown into the mix before they’re really ready and they have to learn it as they go.
What is one thing you would like people who read the book to come away with?
I would say respect for my industry. The one thing I have dealt with my entire life – I grew up in wrestling – is that I had to listen to all the kids at school say, “Aw, that phony stuff.” And they never realized. Even today – I do this ministry that I am a part of out in Phoenix, and I go to this athletes conference every summer, and there’s this big fundraising banquet where they honor a lot of great athletes – they’ve honored Deion Sanders and Tom Landry. But this one guy named Joe Jackson – he’s a very good friend of mine and he played football for the Minnesota Vikings – he introduced me and he says, “Now to a not-so-real sport.” And I got up there this year and I said, “Joe, let me tell you something, pal. There are a lot of guys that did what you did, and when they got through doing what you did, then they tried wrestling thinking, ‘Well, I’m going to walk in here and this should be easy.’ They made it playing football, but they couldn’t hang here.”
It’s like going to boot camp and people don’t realize it. The WWE produces five hours of television a week, 11 pay-per-views a year [editor’s note: the actual number is 14]. If you watched the last WrestleMania, the Super Bowl could not compete with the pageantry. I just want people to come away with an understanding that what we do takes a great deal of effort, a lot of skill and it’s a lot of hard work. I want people to come away with a greater appreciation for what wrestling is.
You talk in the book about almost being chosen to be NWA world champion and later almost being the WWE champion. When you look back at your career, are there any regrets that you never got those title runs?
Not really. Yes, it would be nice because I loved the business and grew up in it to be able to say, “Yes, I was the NWA world champion, and yes, I was the WWE world champion.” That would be nice to say. But in reality, titles in wrestling are props. If you don’t need the prop, obviously, you’re a better wrestler. Instead of going with the WWE title like they had actually talked about, they created this Million Dollar title for me to have my own belt. To me, it made sense. It was like, “Look at this arrogant so-and-so. He pays no respect to the actual title so he’s going to create his own.” It just fit the character, and that’s what we’re all in this business for – to make money. So, no, no regrets.
You wrote that you discouraged your sons from following in your footsteps just the way your father, Iron Mike DiBiase, discouraged you. Now that all three of your sons have followed you into the business, what advice have you given them? And what are your impressions so far of Ted Jr. on TV?
The reason that I discouraged my boys as I was discouraged was not because of wrestling itself. The reason I discouraged them as a father was from having lived the lifestyle – like my father did – and understanding the hardships that come along with it. It’s not the wrestling itself. It’s the 90 percent divorce rate. It’s all the guys that died of drug and alcohol abuse. And again, to the credit of the WWE, the reason that as a father I have now given my sons the blessing to pursue wrestling is because of all the things that are now available to the talent that weren’t 20 years ago – the drug-testing policy, the work schedule.
Vince [McMahon] built this huge company. But anytime you build a company, you have to crawl before you can walk and you have to walk before you can run. We basically paved the path for these kids today. We would go out for weeks at a time without seeing home. These guys now work four days a week and they go home three every week, unless they go on a European tour. It’s more conducive to having a family and living a more normal life. My early impressions of my son are good, and I’m trying to be as unbiased as I can. But I heard it from all of my friends. I’d get a call from Michael Hayes or Arn Anderson or Steve Keirn, who’s running the school, and they said, “Ted, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. The kid’s got it. And if he keeps going in the direction he’s going, then the sky’s the limit.” Early on, he’s handled himself very well and I’m very proud.