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The World According to Dutch: Undertaker Knocks a Guy Out in a Bar

Posted: Dec 9th 2009 By: mikeiles

I was working in WCW in the early 90's and WCW, in those days, had tours from HELL. Seriously. At one point, I went out on the road and stayed on the road for 64 straight days. That's over two months. Some weeks we were traveling to California to Florida and then to Canada. Then they'd drop us off in Texas and then on to Ohio. Normal people don't do things like that. Normal people 'wouldn't' do things like that. But wrestlers aren't normal people. Not at all. Not only would wrestlers do things like that but it was expected of us to do things like that by management.

I was the color commentator along with Tony Schiavone on one of WCW's syndicated shows and I had to be in Atlanta every Monday night for the tapings so every day of my week was taken. I was wrestling 6 days a week and then flying in and out of Atlanta International at least twice a week. But I wasn't flying anywhere close to where I lived.

I was traveling on this tour with Mean Mark Callous who later would become known as the Undertaker and the tour was getting longer and longer. I've been in Japan on 17 or 21 day tours and they're tough. But this tour run we were pm was ridiculous. Anytime any person goes out on the road for over two weeks, there's a disconnect that comes over them and they act differently. We had been on this run for 30 days straight and had another 30 to go.

Usually, for example, we would fly into an area such as Kansas City and the first night we would head to Wichita (220 miles) and then on to Topeka (150 miles) and then we'd drive right back through Kansas City and make Des Moines, Iowa (300 miles) and then back to Kansas City (200 miles) and work there. Then the next day, we'd fly out to 'somewhere' but on Monday, we would all fly back into Atlanta so we could make the TV tapings. Then on Tuesday mornings, we would fly out again to some other God Forsaken town. It was getting to everybody.

One thing I've always said about wrestlers is that we've been everywhere but we've seen nothing except for an interstate highway and the insides of an arena and a hotel room.

Never ending tours are oly beneficial to the promoters but for talent, it a career ender. We were traveling and wrestling every night but we were doing it on the road. If we were professional athletes, we didn't even get the luxury of playing a 'home' game. All of our games were 'away' games.

Compare the grind of wrestling to any other mode of entertainment or sports. Bands don't go on tours with no end and they certainly don't play every night. Basketball teams don't go out on the road and play every night. Football teams play once a week? So why would wrestling promotions have their talent do it? I can see 4 to 5 day runs but 30 days? For wrestlers, that's when they get hurt and careers are cut short.

Every night, the lineup was the same. I was on second, Mark was on fourth. The next night, I was on second, Mark was on fourth. And the next night and the next. And after Mark's match every night, we would leave wherever we were and head to wherever we were the next night. Sometimes we would drive for 200 miles to get to the next town. It was Bullshit and it was tiring. It was brutal.

I remember one morning waking up in a hotel room 'somewhere' and I honestly didn' know where I was. I picked up the phone and called the front desk to ask them where I was and they thought I was kidding and hung up on me. Seriously, it's a bad sign when you can't remember where you are or how you got there. When I tell people that I don't remember a lot of what I've done, they look at me as if they're thinking, is this guy nuts or what? But it's true. I've had thousands of matches and been in thousands of motel/hotel rooms and after awhile, they all run together in a blur.

When fans think about wrestling, they only think about the 90 second glamor parts such as the pyro entrance with the lights and the music and thousands of adoring fans screaming their support as you head down to the ring. They never think about the 5 hours that was spent trying to get to the arena. They never think about a flat tire in the middle of nowhere in Kansas or trying to check into a motel that's sold out at 3 AM. They never think that wrestlers get a cold or the flu. Or sprain an ankle or tweak a knee. Or just basically feel like crap by not sleeping in their beds everynight.

On this particular tour, we were booked on some God awful, never ending tour in West Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee. We found ourselves on a Saturday night in Knoxville, Tennessee which is the home of the University of Tennessee. UT is a campus with a lot of bars and about 22,000 students. It is a party town.

We wrestled at the Knoxville Civic Center...Ric Flair was on the card, Lex Lugar, Sting, Sid, Iron Sheik, Spivey, Steiners etc. The crowd that night was 4,000 plus but nothing outstanding. The crew was too tired to really go out and give 110% in the ring. As per custom, I wrestled in the second match and Mark wrestled in the fourth match and then we were through for the evening. We were tired and irritable due to being on the road for so long and we needed a break.

As we walked out to our car before we left the Knoxville Civic Center, Mark looked at me and said, "I wanna go drinking. I'll drink you under the table."

I never really understoond drinking somebody under the table but I accepted his challenge because at this time, I needed something different than what we'd been doing for a month. I felt like a professional homeless guy. II agreed. I used to drink quite regularly but I had really slowed down in the last couple of years. I wasn't planning on doing a lot this night either. I learned a long time ago that when you drink, you can put yourself in vulnerable situations especially if you're in the wrestling business. Wrestlers, due to being on TV, are very high profile people and you have to watch where you go.

Before we went out, we checked into some regular motel because we damn sure didn't need a Hilton or a Ritz/Carlton because we just needed a place to throw down our bags and a bed for later. As soon as we dumped our stuff, Mark and I headed back out the door to a bar and found the first bar we came too. It was called Desparadoes or something like that.

As we entered the parking lot of the bar, it was packed. But it was Saturday night, it was about 11PM and the party was just starting. When we went into the bar, the bouncers all knew us because they were all wrestling fans so they waived the cover charge off and gave us some free drink coupons. Hey, this wasn't a bad idea after all.

So Mark and I sat down and I ordered double Tequila shots for both of us. Dammit, he challenged me to a drinking contest and we were going to have one. Mark salted him hand and slammed his shot down and I slammed mine down. Then we both bit into the lime. Into the bar came Flair and Windham, Arn, Bobby Eaton, Stan Lane and a lot of the other guys.

Mark looked at me and told me again that before this night is over, 'I'm going to drink you under the table." Well, like I said before, I had stopped most of my drinking but in the days when I did drink, I found out that I had a tolerance for Tequila. Don't ask me why but I always have. I could drink 3 to 4 beers and be bouncing off the walls but 8 shots of Tequila, I was fine. Seriously.

We slammed the other Tequila down and bit the lime again. So we got a pretty good start on this Tequila drinking thing. 2 Tequilas came and went. 4 Tequilas came and went. 6 Tequilas came and went. I was feeling good but Mark was feeling better. But Mark hadn't drank me under the table yet.

Mark excused himself for a moment and said he had to go see a man about a horse. So he left. I sat there while he was gone and watched these crazy ass Tennessee bastards as they were having a helluva good time. The music was playing, the place was popping and everybody was having a great time. The Tennessee Vols had played a game that day at the 106,000 seat Neyland Stadium and football is a religion in Tennessee and when the Vols win, which they used to do on a regular basis, it was party time. Since they had won that day, it was a party atmosphere. But everybody had on ORANGE and WHITE which is the UT colors.

Going into bars like the one we were in, was a place that put wrestlers in a vulnerable position because there's a lot of asshole guys who drink too much and when they drink too much, they get mouthy and think they can whip the world. Or a guy has some girl with him that he wants to impress so he runs his mouth. That's not a very good idea. That's why bouncers in these clubs usually put the wrestlers off to the side so that they can watch if anybody wants to start trouble.

Mark stayed gone for quite awhile. The bouncers had seated us at the front of the bar but when Mark left, he headed into the back where the rest rooms were. As I was looking into the crowd of people toward the back, I saw some activity going on and I heard some loud yelling. Since Mark wasn't right beside me and he had been drinking, I had a hunch that something had happened to him.

Off I went to find Mark and as soon as I got close to the rear of the club, I saw some dude laid out all over the floor. Somebody had knocked this guy seven ways from Sunday and this girl was kneeling beside him. He was moving but he was in dreamlnad. I then saw Mark over to the side with the bouncers talking to him. I walked up and asked what had happened and the bouncer said that Mark had hit this one guy with one shot and whammo...he dropped him like a ton of bricks.

I said don't worry about it...I went over and grabbed Mark and told him to come with me. We were getting the hell outta there. Mark said he wanted to stay and I told him that he didn't have a choice as I hustled his 6'10" ass out the door and pushed him toward our car. I had to push and drag Mark who was feeling the effects of the Tequila and as we opened the door to the car, I saw two Knoxville police cars scream into the parking lot with their sirens and lights on.

They were coming because they had been called by the girlfriend of the guy who was laying on the floor. As the police rushed in, we rushed out. We just beat meeting the police by aobut 30 seconds. If we had been there when the police came in, Mark would have been arrested for assault. Mark didn't need that and I sure didn't need it either. As the police walked in, I drove right past the front away. I shouldn't have driven but we were in getaway mode. We were only about 5 blocks from where we had checked in earlier so it didn't take us about 60 seconds to get to the hotel.

I asked Mark what had happened and he said that some guy came up to him as he was leaving the rest room and wanted to know if he was a wrestler. Mark said yes and the guy said he didn't think he was so tough. Mark said he tried to steer the guy away from him but the guy was drunk and when he got too aggressive, Mark just clocked the guy and knocked his ass out. That was when I had heard the yelling in the back of the club and all the bouncers ran there.

When I saw the guy laying on the floor of the club, the first thing I thought is that he has to be a complete moron. I've never understood why guys, who want to challenge wrestlers, don't challenge guys who are more close to their size instead of 6'10", 300 poung monster like Mark. size range. Usually, I try to have some sympathy for guys like that but if they're that stupid, then they need their silly asses knocked out.

Needless to say, I got Mark to his room and got him settled in and told him that I had saved his ass. He was laughing and kidding around but the Tequilas had taken a toll on him. He was hammered. But before I left his room, I told him that I had won the bet because he was laying down and I was still walking. Mark didn't agree but hey Mark, if you're reading this, I drank your silly ass under the table. I also saved you a trip to the slammer.

I never claimed it before but at the University of Dutch, we strive to be the best.

You can leave comments below or contact me directly at:

dirtydutchmantell@gmail.com


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Tags: Dutch Mantell, WCW, Ric Flair, Sting, Rick Steiner, Bobby Eaton