Skull Murphy v Pete Roberts
Wrestling Heritage welcomes memories, further information and corrections.
By turning the colour control right down and viewers could have been watching a black and white match from the 1960s. Well, almost. Admittedly referee Bobby Stafford’s luminous shirt would have tested any black and white picture and the Japanese writing on the jacket of Roberts was a sign of the times. Otherwise we were in a time warp and about to watch a match that was no classic but reminded us of what wrestling used to be like.
It took just seconds to set the scene. The immaculate Roberts entered the ring, nodded acknowledgement to the fans, stood patiently and respectfully, tested the ropes’ tension like a true professional and looked like, well, a true professional.
Murphy climbed on to the ring apron and glared at Roberts. It was a five second glare that lasted a lifetime. A quick glance and we could have mistakenly thought his dad, Roy Bull Davis, was making a comeback. That glare, the shaven head, the studded leather jacket, wristbands and the body language announced to the most inexperienced fan that here was the villain of the match.
All that even before he climbed through the ropes.
Just to make absolutely sure that no one was in any doubt the MC declared that Murphy was “The shaven headed assassin,” whilst Pete Roberts, the boy next door for the previous twenty years, was now “The Super Destroyer.” The Japanese script along the edge of Roberts’ bright red jacket (which we like to imagine translated into something unpleasant about Brian Crabtree) signified the nice boy’s newly found international status.
Kent Walton reminded the faithful that this was a return contest, the first having ended in a double knock out. It was also a no-rounds bout, though the twenty minute time limit prepared fans for the inevitable result.
That glare of Murphy’s had done the job. From that moment on every move of both men was interpreted by fans to reinforce their initial prejudices, As the two stood centre ring during the preliminary instructions they were both impatient to lay hands on each other.
Aggression from Murphy. Enthusiasm from Roberts.
Referee Bobby Stafford tried energetically to keep the two apart. He had obviously just come from his other job, a bit part pantomime player, and was having difficulty adjusting to his new role. He clapped his hands to get the bout going, but then had to repeat the action as the timekeeper wasn’t quite ready.
“I’m telling the pair of you, back off…” barked the referee in that flustered way familiar to mothers of young children.
Finally the bout was underway and the clandestine fashion critic, Kent Walton, ritualistically described the attire of each man so that we could tell them apart!
The opening two minutes of the bout saw Murphy on the offensive, with a step over toe hold being his choice of the day. Murphy looked good. At times moves from both men didn’t come off, but then this was professional wrestling, not Strictly Come Dancing.
The two men had set the scene well, and the fans reacted accordingly. They booed and jeered when Murphy’s feet went under the bottom rope and caused a break. They cheered when Roberts did the same thing. “Murphy just can’t get that right,” said Kent, as Super Destroyer’s feet slid beneath the ropes, just to reassure us we were cheering the right man.
After ten minutes, and numerous step-over toe holds later, Roberts lost his temper. He had Murphy in a corner and took exception to being pushed away. The referee intervened and bellowed at Murphy, “I won’t tell you again.” Oh dear, we all knew he would. First rule of parenthood, Mr Stafford, is don’t threaten what you can’t deliver.
A few moments later it was Roberts who refused to break as he pounded Murphy in the corner, and the role of referee was demoted to onlooker. Suddenly Murphy turned Roberts around. Kent was in the midst of reliably informing viewers that “Murphy quite legitimately turned on his man because he came in…” when he was interrupted by the announcement of a public warning against Murphy.
Within seconds a back elbow followed by a head butt to the post and a cross press gave the first fall to the shaven headed assassin after seventeen minutes. We were stunned. We were mystified. How could the inevitable draw be made believable with three minutes to go? Even less, in fact, as the timer continued through the announcement. The bell rang with two minutes to go. A minute later, out of the blue, came the inevitable equaliser to Peter Roberts.
The clock continued ticking and the wrestlers were out of time. This was a believable result delivered in an unbelievable way. We had witnessed a very unagreeable ending to an agreeable contest. It wouldn’t have happened in Norman’s day.
Wrestling Heritage 