Wrestling Heritage

By Ray Hulm

Wrestling Heritage welcomes memories, further information and corrections.

On the day that I retired from my final job as a lockkeeper I left the following on the wall. …… ” I started work at fifteen years of age. Worked on the river and at sea but I also worked in factories and fields, in the circus and in films. I never achieved much. But I never crossed a picket line. Never judged a fellow worker by their colour or creed Nor sucked up to the bosses for my own ends”….. Pretty much sums it all up.

Stanley Mathews streaking down the wing in those baggy shorts. The annual press meltdown about what was being worn at Wimbledon. There was always some interest in sporting fashion but only in the crazy world of professional wrestling did it become a vital part of the whole show. At some point promoters realised that the characters that were being created could be enhanced by a few alterations to the wrestlers costume and that Madrali the Terrible Turk was made yet more terrible by the simple addition of a pair of black tights. Sometimes colour coding was all that was needed. I was never the sharpest knife in the box but even I could see what Dr Death and The White Angel was all about.

So we are starting to see how costume was telling us what to expect but sometimes it was a bit more nuanced than simple black and white. Take Jackie Pallo for example. I never thought that Jackie Pallo was a proper villain. Not really. He might have been a bit naughty but his wrongdoing was that of a cheeky chappie. More Private Walker or Arthur Daley then Count Dracula if you get my drift. Why, if Jack had not been catapulting himself off the ropes up there in the ring he might just as easily have been flogging dodgy nylons from the back of van. None of this needed to be explained, those candy striped trunks and gold painted boots said it all. Pure Genius I reckon and I’m sure that Jack would have been the first to agree.

The connection between Mark “Rollerball” Rocco and the dystopian sc-fi movie is not obvious at first sight but Mark’s violent, high speed style was a real reflection of the film. And the costume? Nothing like it is worn in the film, but it looks as though it might have been, and that’s the clever bit. Marc Rocco charging round the ring in his Stars and Stripes outfit may well be an image that endures longer than Rollerball itself.

And then of course there were what you might call the exotics. Just about every national and ethnic stereotype was tried out in the wrestling ring at some time or another. OK I don’t remember a wrestling Eskimo but I am ready to be corrected. Native Americans, Mexican bandits, Reincarnated Samurai Warriors, Cowboys, African Witchdoctors, Indian Rajahs, Alaskan Fur Trappers, some were more authentic than others but all trooped into the ring in full regalia frequently with an array of essential props. Is my memory playing trick or did The Mighty Chang make his entrance wearing a large “coolie” type hat? To be honest I always thought that fancy dress, let’s call it what it was, was a dish best served infrequently. The punters could have too much of a good thing and the novelty became no novelty at all. The trick, like so much else in the business, was to get it just right.

Another wrestling institution that was able to make full use of the dressing up box was the “manager’ or assistant. Think Princess Paula and George Gillette.

The mask was without a doubt the most talked about piece of professional wrestling costume and many are the wrestling anecdotes about working under the bonnet. Keeping the secret and not having the cops come round and do you for armed robbery were just two of the issues that the masked wrestler had to deal with. The late Brian Glover always maintained that the neighbours must have been aware of father Charlie’s altar ego as the Red Devil when every washday the full outfit including mask could be seen hanging in the back yard.

The great American showman Gorgeous George Wagner took wrestling costume in a whole new direction when he introduced the idea of appearing in beautiful gowns and with coiffured hair. Not until Adrian Street was anyone quite as camp but there was soon no shortage of arrogant, bleached blond heels on both sides of the Atlantic. I first came across this type of act when I saw Flash Edwards in the late fifties, He kept us waiting for ages until eventually the referee went to see what the problem was and when he returned indicated to the MC that Flash was still combing his hair. Finally he appeared, removed his satin wrestling jacket and with a final check on the barnet, got down to business. Buy this time a good deal of heat had been generated for not that much effort. At that time a popular TV advertisement was for a home perm called Toni. It featured two identical twins one who had used the product and the other who had not. “Which one has the Toni?” Was the strap line. So when Edwards won the first fall MC Bobby Palmer announced, “ The first fall with a folding body press to THE ONE WITH THE TONI.” We all laughed like drains, Flash feigned outrage. and no doubt the same gag was repeated night after night in halls across the land. A close relative to the arrogant peroxide blond was the arrogant toff. This was honed to perfection by Alan Garfield. The flamboyant satin jacket or gown was replaced with a blazer and with the possible addition of a monocle you were good to go.

There were many very good judo players who made the switch to professional wrestling but the martial arts boom of the 1970’s took things to another level. We soon had karate and kung fu experts by the bus load many performing in full karate gi and usually barefoot. This last deserves a nod of recognition because taking lots of big bumps without the shock absorption of thick soled wrestling boots is not for the faint hearted. The martial arts gimmick also provided an opportunity to introduce all kinds of props into the act and a selection of swords, sticks ,staffs and what have you soon added to the general air of oriental mystery. Secret death touch anybody? When it came to the theatrical use of costume and props to create a piece esoteric hokum, Nagger’s mask burning takes some beating I reckon. Trouble was that having all that TV exposure meant that it could no longer be worked in halls up and down the country.

I’m not sure when the transition from long dressing gown to short wrestling jacket started but certainly it was well underway by the 1950s. The shorter version, based on the Bomber Jacket I suppose, had a modern, Mid-Atlantic look about it and had the added advantage of taking less room in the holdall that had to be lugged around the country. Wrestling kit had very practical as well as an aesthetic function. Sometimes good and sometimes less so. One of the more regrettable uses of costume was the older worker who in the face of impending OAP status should have called it a day, using tights and leotards to conceal the varicose veins and sagging muscles that come to us all sooner or later.

One old trouper told me that one of the advantages of high boots was that it made your legs look bigger. With 550lb squats and an 800lb deadlift to his credit Bert Assirati certainly had no need of anything to make his legs look any bigger. There is a famous photo of the man taken with his bike on Hampstead Heath. Holding his bike, a sensible touring model of course, Bert stares into the camera looking like the kind of solid, rock hard old geezer you would not take any liberties with. Large wrestling trunks that for all I know were knitted by wife Marjorie and ankle height boots with just a hint of white sock complete the image. Who knows what Bert must have thought about all that new fangled multi-coloured lycra. Mind you, just what he was doing going out for a bike ride in his wrestling kit was never made clear.

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