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Fair To Flair: Off The Heels Of Ric Flair's Final Walk Down That Aisle, WWE Salutes The Nature Boy And Scott Bowden Recalls What Made Slick Ric The Man

Posted: Apr 6th 2008 By: CMBurnham

I'll never forget the first time I saw Ric Flair in early 1978. I was nearly 7 years old and about to take yet another step from casual fan to hardcore mark. Months earlier, I had been living and dying with the drama unfolding in Memphis during the first-ever series of bouts between Jerry "the King" Lawler and "Superstar" Bill Dundee, which featured stipulations that seemed to get crazier with each passing Monday night. That series culminated with not only Dundee getting his head shaved but also his wife, Beverly, losing her hair in the middle of the blood-stained mat at the Mid-South Coliseum. Along with the release of STAR WARS and the death of Elvis Presley, my discovery of Memphis rasslin' is the most vivid of that year of my young life.

I was watching another staple of my childhood, an episode of CHARLIE'S ANGELS, which featured an unsavory character--I believe an ex-grappler--reading a wrestling magazine. I was unaware of the existence of wrestling magazines--apparently I was so hell-bent on getting my grubby hands on the latest Spider-Man, Hulk or Fantastic Four comic book that I never noticed the magazine rack.

I begged my dad to take me to 7-11 to investigate and, sure enough, there was Ric Flair on the cover of the spring 1978 issue of the Best of the Wrestler.

Career inspiration: The purchase of this Apter mag in 1978 paved the way for my experiences in the wrestling business and in journalism.

Although over the years I would slowly figure out that most of the Apter mag stories were pure fiction, the headline on that Flair cover story proved to be quite prophetic -- "The Experts Declare: Ric Flair is the Next Champion." Flair may not have been the next World champion, but he did go on to rewrite the record book, capturing, depending on whom you believe, 16, 18--as high more than 21--World titles. I pretty much stopped counting after the seventh (eighth, if you count the New Zealand quickies with Harley Race) title win over Sting in East Rutherford N.Y. -- the first of many times Ric came back to win the gold after seemingly being forced out to make room for the next new superstar in the business.

I became a regular reader of the Apter mags in the '70s and '80s and did my best to follow the storylines taking place around the country. Although I couldn't see Flair wrestle on TV or in person, that made him larger than life to me, especially when I read that he'd won the NWA World title from Dusty Rhodes in Kansas City in 1981.

Equally as memorable as that introduction to Flair via wrestling journalism -- the first time I saw Slick Ric wrestle on TV. When Flair showed up unannounced in the WMC-TV 5 Studio on August 14, 1982, I remember being terribly excited, calling my friends on the telephone and urging them to hurry over. We huddled around the TV in nervous excitement as Lawler masterfully goaded Flair into an impromptu NWA World title match. Sure, Nick Bockwinkel, the AWA World champ, played the role well and most Memphis fans believed him to be the champion, but we Apter-reading marks knew that the NWA strap was considered the big one by the prestigious wrestling press (cough). Dressed in a perfectly pressed double-breasted, navy-blue blazer and starched white button-down and khakis, Flair almost appeared as if he had steered his yacht down the Mississippi River to arrive in Memphis. In hindsight, I love how Flair gives the city and announcer Lance Russell repeated backhanded compliments, speaking methodically without a trace of sarcasm as he explained that he'd heard that Memphis was full of nothing but rednecks and he was pleasantly surprised to see otherwise. Ironically enough, Flair was actually born in Memphis, a fact I was stunned to learn years later. Oh, what might have been had Flair grown up in Memphis.

Lawler, riding high after the Andy Kaufman angle earlier in the year, humbly says that he's not in Flair's class and puts the Champ on the spot with a challenge. In one of the best performances of his career -- which is saying a lot -- Russell perfectly plays the role of the small-time announcer. He's almost in awe of Flair's presence, going so far as to comment on the Nature Boy's "stunning watch." I also like how Russell lowers his head when Lawler asks if Flair's scheduled opponent, Rick McCord, has ever won a match. Lance quietly answers, "Well, Jerry ... I don't remember it if he if did."

During the brief bout, I recall my friends and me marking out when Lawler traps Flair in the sleeper hold, with me screaming, "He's got him! He's got him!" It was clear to all of us that Lawler was the better wrestler when Flair ran off to keep his title after one of those devastating fistdrops. (Always funny to me to hear Lawler knock Flair for his chops, when his finishing move was a flying punch off the ropes.)

I was so convinced that an injustice had been done on that day in 1982 that I fired off a letter to Bill Apter proclaiming the King to be the uncrowned World champion. Lawler's apparent good showing, though, was vintage Flair, making the local star appear unbeatable at his own expense. And, in the aftermath, when Flair accuses Lance of being in on the plan to embarrass him, Russell's expression in response is priceless.

Of course, as the years went by, I saw Flair regularly defend his title on Mid-Atlantic Wrestling and World Class Championship Wrestling, which suddenly began appearing on TV prior to Jerry Jarrett's and Lawler's show at 11 a.m. I cheered as he regained the 10 pounds of gold from Harley Race at STARRCADE '83. I cheered when Kerry Von Erich defeated Flair to win the belt for brother David and the entire state of Texas.

In the mid-80s, when I began understanding what the business was all about, Flair supplanted Lawler as my favorite. To my dad, it seemed like I was always watching Ric Flair matches or interviews on our family's big TV.

By the time I was in high school in the mid- to late '80s, nearly every photo with three of my best friends from that era feature each of us displaying the sign of excellence: four fingers that represented the symbol of the Four Horsemen. My friends and I learned all Flair's catchphrases, repeating them to our opponents on the soccer and football fields (which, according to my British wife, are one and the same), and occasionally, even our girlfriends, much to their disgust.

As the cocky goalkeeper for my high-school soccer team, I wore a Ric Flair T-shirt underneath my jersey for every game. One humid April night in 1989, I hastily left my nighttime soccer game, and still wearing my uniform, made it the Coliseum for a rare NWA show at the Coliseum just in time to see Ricky Steamboat defend Big Gold against Flair. The show only drew about 2,000 fans in the 11,364-seat arena, but Flair and Steamboat delivered an amazing bout that was only slightly below their Chi-Town Rumble match in February of that year.

In my high-school graduation book, the section devoted to future goals I want to accomplish reads only: "To win the NWA World title from Ric Flair."

When I broke into the business working for Jarrett and Lawler and eventually turned heel, I patterned myself after the Horsemen, always wearing starched button-downs and ties. One of the best compliments I received early on was from longtime wrestler Buddy Wayne, who rarely put over anybody or anything. (But you could always count on Buddy to tell you what was wrong with the business, which was usually followed by "... and I tell ya, it's killin' us, it's killin' us.") He remarked that the way I dressed on TV made it seem like I was really somebody -- not a wrestling manager trying to look like he's dressed up with loud jackets and buffoonish cheap shirts and slacks. In my mind, I was stylin' and profilin.'

As so many fans and writers have commented these past weeks, wrestling would continue to change over the years, but Flair was the only thing that remained a constant. In some ways, he represented the last of the old-school era for most fans. Almost hard to believe that the two stars of that angle from August 1982 in Memphis were the only big-name territory guys still featured in Vince McMahon's WWE heading into this year's WRESTLEMANIA. Now only Lawler remains, but he's not the same King I grew up with.

Stylin' and profilin': This is the T-shirt I wore Sunday to salute Ric Flair, garnering funny looks from the staff at L.A.'s El Coyote restaurant in the hours before WRESTLEMANIA.

I had that feeling of being a kid again all over again the past Sunday in what might have been the last time I watched Flair in a wrestling match. I had the words "Don't be ashamed of those butterflies" in my head in response to my nervous stomach as I watched Flair walk that aisle in what appeared to be a new robe, trunks and boots.

I popped early when Flair successfully made it off the top rope with a bodypress. I cringed when the bridge spot--which I'd seen Flair do with the likes of Steamboat, Barry Windham and Brad Armstrong so many times in the '80s--didn't quite work out. I almost believed that Flair might pull it off when HBK hesitated and gave Flair the advantage. And my eyes started welling up just a bit when, in a beautiful moment, HBK mouthed the words "I'm sorry. I love you" and closed perhaps the final chapter of the most storied career in the business. HBK kept his word: He gave Flair exactly what he needed to have one last great match. Simply a tremendous performance put together by the Naitch and HBK. The shot of the long walk back to the dressing room for Flair after sharing the moment with his family will always be with me -- it had the feel of Larry Bird's retirement from basketball or, more recently, Brett Farve's retirement from football.

The next night, in a sendoff never before seen for even the biggest of Vince McMahon's creations, Flair, for years the franchise player for the WWF's former promotional rival, was saluted by his peers and his family in touching fashion following Ric's farewell address. Not only did we get Four Horsemen Tully Blanchard, Barry Windham, Arn Anderson, Dean Malenko and J. J. Dillion and former rivals Race, Steamboat and Greg Valentine, but we also got to see guys like HBK, Chris Jericho, Triple H and Edge give thanks to one of their childhood heroes. Big Show appeared to be in tears when he climbed on the ring apron, probably still reeling from Flair's comments at the Hall of Fame that Show could own the business if he had his head screwed on straight. The entire scene was poignant. I was truly touched. My wife leaned over looking for tears on my face Monday night, and I had to look away.

Nearly 30 years to the day I first laid eyes on the Nature Boy on that magazine cover, I was saying goodbye. And thank you.

Tags: Ric Flair, Bill Dundee, Sting, NWA, Dusty Rhodes, Jerry Lawler, Kerry Von Erich, Brad Armstrong, Greg Valentine, WWF