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Flair Shows Class On And Off The Court

Posted: Apr 1st 2008 By: CMBurnham

A legendary world champion ? 16 times a champion, in fact ? "retired" Sunday night.

Although professional wrestlers never really quit the business. There's always at least 20-30 one last matches left in them.

Wrestlers retire and unretire more times than the Who, the Judds and Roger Clemens put together.

For 35 years, Ric Flair wrestled all around the world, in front of 100 people in dingy, poorly lighted school gyms and in front of 150,000 fans on a national holiday in North, yes North Korea.

Sunday night, before 75,000 fans breaking every attendance and box office record at Wrestlemania 24 in Orlando, Fla., Flair hung up his boots after losing a farewell match to his good friend Shawn Michaels. He was ready to go. It was time.

The night before, Flair was inducted into the World Wrestling Entertainment Hall of Fame. Wrestler after wrestler, fan after fan, said how much they loved him, how they thought he was the greatest wrestler in history and told their favorite Flair story.

It was a weird thing. Practically none of the stories involved Flair inside the ring. Not that he didn't do incredible things inside the ring. His shenanigans outside the ring are just more incredible. He really was, as he loved to scream on TV wrestling, "a kiss-stealing, wheeling dealing, jet-flying, limousine-riding son of a gun."

Here's a Ric Flair story for you.

The U.S. Clay Courts Tennis Championships moved to Houston in 2001. Jim "Mattress Mack" McIngvale brought the tournament to the Westside Tennis Club. The Clay Courts was traditionally one of the stodgiest events on the tennis calendar.

You knew that was going to end. Mattress Mack and I cooked up a little stunt. On opening night of the tournament, between the two featured singles matches, there would be a special exhibition doubles contest.

Two championship tennis kids, one age 7, the other age 9, would play against "Houston Chronicle columnist Ken Hoffman and a mystery partner."


Publicity
I began dropping hints in my column who my mystery partner was. I went on local radio and television shows to pump the event. I said, "My partner has won matches in 40 countries around the world. My partner has won more titles than Martina Navratilova." Clues like that.

I made it sound like my partner was Stefanie Graf.

Hey, I never said "tennis" matches or "tennis" titles.

My partner was Ric Flair.

The afternoon of our match, I met Flair at Westside. I thanked him for agreeing to do this and asked, "How often do you get to play tennis with your crazy wrestling schedule?"

He said he had never touched a tennis racket in his life.

Uh-oh. I don't think we're going to beat the kids.

First thing we had to do was get him some tennis clothes and a racket.

Flair has some of the most outrageous ring robes with feather boas and patent-leather boots ? but no white shorts and Nike tennis shoes.

About then, the tennis players noticed that Flair was in the club, and they began asking for his autograph. James Blake, a top 10 world player and Yale man, pleaded with Flair to use one of his rackets.

Flair surprised everybody with his gentle nature and politeness. He called all the tennis players "sir." He called me "sir" even after I begged him not to do that.

OK, let's start the match. ESPN tennis announcer Cliff Drysdale is the chair umpire and emcee. He is pretty stodgy himself, with an accent that sounds English but is really South African. He introduces the kids one at a time. Then he introduces me.

Then, "and Ken's partner is" and rattles off the business about being a world champion and performing around the world.

Flair's wrestling entrance music, the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey, begins playing over the loudspeaker.

Flair walked on the court. This was 10 times better ? and funnier ? than Steffi Graf. Flair wore pure white shorts and a white shirt. He body was so tan he was almost red. His hair was pure white. His muscles were bulging. He looked amazing, ridiculous and incredible.

I couldn't stop laughing. I've been party to some pretty stupid things, but this was my new favorite. I've played doubles tennis with Bjorn Borg, John McEnroe and President George Bush. Sure that was exciting.

But now my partner is Ric Flair!

In true pro wrestling fashion, we had rehearsed a few bits. I hit a ball a few inches past the baseline. Drysdale called it "out, love-15."

I walked up the chair and complained. "Hey, it was in! Don't cheat us just because you want the kids to win."

Drysdale sternly told me to get back on the court and be quiet. If I complained one more time, he'd penalize us a point, and one more time after that, he'd disqualify us. I slinked back, embarrassed by Drysdale's tongue-lashing.

The next point, I hit the ball into the stands on a fly.

Drysdale announced, "Out! Love-30."

This time, I motioned for Flair to complain. Flair dropped his racket, got a menacing look on his face and began climbing the steps to reach Drysdale.

Drysdale acted scared and announced, "On second thought, the ball was in, 15-all."

A few points later, one of the kids hit the ball softly to Flair on purpose. Flair smacked it with a mighty overhead ? his only point of the match ? and strutted around the court like he had just pinned the Masked Destroyer at the Sam Houston Coliseum.

The crowd loved it. They came to watch tennis, and a wrestling match broke out.

After the match, which we lost (just like wrestling, the baby faces usually win), Flair signed autographs for everybody who wanted one ? and the line was long. He asked me, "Did that go all right tonight?"

I said, "Sure, thanks," and thought nothing of what he just asked me.

Until Wrestlemania, when I heard about 25 wrestlers tell a Ric Flair story, and each one ended with "and then he asked me if he had done all right."

That's how you get to be a champion 16 times.

Tags: Ric Flair