"Real" Fake Wrestling
What ever happened to fake wrestling? I mean the "real" fake wrestling from the old days. I'm not talking about the 80's and 90's "fake" fake wrestling when the Von Erich's were wrestling and taking turns killing themselves, or the really "fake" fake wrestling we have now.
I'm talking about the real old days, the 1960's when guys like Gorgeous George hid razor blades in their waist bands, not to use on their opponent but to use on their own forehead or scalp. I got to see some of these early day wrestlers. In those days if you were lucky enough to get a front row seat you could go home with some wrestler blood on your shirt.
My grandmother loved wrestling. We were lucky enough to live in Elk City, Oklahoma which was located on Route 66. The traveling wrestlers from back east and the west coast were always stopping by our local Saturday night wrestling ring on their way to the other coast. We had the regulars but we also got to see pretty much anyone who was anyone on the wrestling circuit, or any other type circuit that traveled Route 66 in those days.
Actors, actresses, writers, sports heroes, they all traveled that highway and stopped in Elk City to eat, get fuel or catch some shuteye. When he was working as a mechanic at the local Ford, Lincoln, Mercury dealership my dad worked on Telly Savalas' Lincoln. ..... but I digress....
We had all the coolest wrestlers stop by at one time or another. I even got in the ring once. My mom about had a stroke when she found out but my grandmother let me get in the ring with a wrestler named Vic. By the time it was over he had taken a cookie right out of my mouth. But I eventually had him eating out of my hand.
Vic was better know as Victor The Wrestling Bear. The ring announcer asked for a volunteer from the audience
and the next thing I knew I was in the center of the ring and a bear that was 6'6" standing on his hind feet and weighed 400-500lbs was in his corner. Vic's handler walked over to the bear and took off his muzzle and then walked to the center of the ring and handed me a chocolate chip cookie and I took a big bite and chewed it up. Then the handler started saying "Don't eat it... No, No, No, don't eat it. Just hold it in your mouth." But he was too late most of it was gone. Hey it was the early 60's and we were poor. We didn't get store bought cookies very often, if at all. You hand me a cookie and I was eating it.... and I was eating in a hurry because someone might make me share it with the other kids that didn't make it into the ring.
The audience got a kick out of the handlers expression when I ate the cookie and the way he stomped around when he was climbing in and out of the ring to get another one. He made me promise not to eat the new cookie and then put it in my mouth with about half of the cookie hanging out. During this entire disappearing cookie episode the bear just sat in his corner. I guess he was waiting for the bell.
The handler told me quietly to keep my hands at my sides and then started a big spiel about how many hundreds or thousands of men Victor had beaten in the ring and then motioned for him to come to the center of the ring where I was standing.
I can't express how terrified I was at this point. I had seen this bear do all kinds of feats of strength and watched as he tossed a 250lb wrestler around the ring, and now he was walking on his hind feet toward me. I might have been all of 3 feet tall, and weighed 55lbs. (Did I mention I was about 4 years old.) I could feel his hot breath as he lowered himself down to all fours and inched toward my face. I knew for certain that he was going to open his mouth and take the cookie along with my head and it would make a wet popping sound. I figured my body would kinda flop around like the chickens did when grandma grabbed them by the head and spun them around, like she was starting a Model T, an hour before Sunday dinner.
But he simply opened his mouth bent forward and took the cookie from my mouth. I didn't try to keep half the cookie, I didn't try to touch him, I did not shake my hands over my head and scream "Ooogee, boogggeee, booo". I opened my mouth and let him have it. He chewed it, swallowed it, stood up on his hind feet and walked back to his corner. I guess he had had enough.
I honestly don't remember getting out of the ring. I remember later in the evening after they put the muzzle back on Vic and after Vic had wrestled another grown man, as we were leaving a huge tarantula came walking in the back door like he owned the place. Everyone was afraid of the huge spider, women and children screamed and some guy ran over and stomped on it and the spider goo and legs squished out from under his shoe on both sides.
Everyone was afraid of the spider, everyone but me that is......it was a long time before anything could scare me....
After all... I had gone one round with Victor The Wrestling Bear.
BTW: I know there are some that don't believe this story. I knew that there would be those that wouldn't believe. I can scan the official press photo if I need to offer proof. I tried to get it autographed but Vic couldn't hold the pen.... no thumbs....
I'm talking about the real old days, the 1960's when guys like Gorgeous George hid razor blades in their waist bands, not to use on their opponent but to use on their own forehead or scalp. I got to see some of these early day wrestlers. In those days if you were lucky enough to get a front row seat you could go home with some wrestler blood on your shirt.
My grandmother loved wrestling. We were lucky enough to live in Elk City, Oklahoma which was located on Route 66. The traveling wrestlers from back east and the west coast were always stopping by our local Saturday night wrestling ring on their way to the other coast. We had the regulars but we also got to see pretty much anyone who was anyone on the wrestling circuit, or any other type circuit that traveled Route 66 in those days.
Actors, actresses, writers, sports heroes, they all traveled that highway and stopped in Elk City to eat, get fuel or catch some shuteye. When he was working as a mechanic at the local Ford, Lincoln, Mercury dealership my dad worked on Telly Savalas' Lincoln. ..... but I digress....
We had all the coolest wrestlers stop by at one time or another. I even got in the ring once. My mom about had a stroke when she found out but my grandmother let me get in the ring with a wrestler named Vic. By the time it was over he had taken a cookie right out of my mouth. But I eventually had him eating out of my hand.
Vic was better know as Victor The Wrestling Bear. The ring announcer asked for a volunteer from the audience
and the next thing I knew I was in the center of the ring and a bear that was 6'6" standing on his hind feet and weighed 400-500lbs was in his corner. Vic's handler walked over to the bear and took off his muzzle and then walked to the center of the ring and handed me a chocolate chip cookie and I took a big bite and chewed it up. Then the handler started saying "Don't eat it... No, No, No, don't eat it. Just hold it in your mouth." But he was too late most of it was gone. Hey it was the early 60's and we were poor. We didn't get store bought cookies very often, if at all. You hand me a cookie and I was eating it.... and I was eating in a hurry because someone might make me share it with the other kids that didn't make it into the ring. The audience got a kick out of the handlers expression when I ate the cookie and the way he stomped around when he was climbing in and out of the ring to get another one. He made me promise not to eat the new cookie and then put it in my mouth with about half of the cookie hanging out. During this entire disappearing cookie episode the bear just sat in his corner. I guess he was waiting for the bell.
The handler told me quietly to keep my hands at my sides and then started a big spiel about how many hundreds or thousands of men Victor had beaten in the ring and then motioned for him to come to the center of the ring where I was standing.
I can't express how terrified I was at this point. I had seen this bear do all kinds of feats of strength and watched as he tossed a 250lb wrestler around the ring, and now he was walking on his hind feet toward me. I might have been all of 3 feet tall, and weighed 55lbs. (Did I mention I was about 4 years old.) I could feel his hot breath as he lowered himself down to all fours and inched toward my face. I knew for certain that he was going to open his mouth and take the cookie along with my head and it would make a wet popping sound. I figured my body would kinda flop around like the chickens did when grandma grabbed them by the head and spun them around, like she was starting a Model T, an hour before Sunday dinner.
But he simply opened his mouth bent forward and took the cookie from my mouth. I didn't try to keep half the cookie, I didn't try to touch him, I did not shake my hands over my head and scream "Ooogee, boogggeee, booo". I opened my mouth and let him have it. He chewed it, swallowed it, stood up on his hind feet and walked back to his corner. I guess he had had enough.
I honestly don't remember getting out of the ring. I remember later in the evening after they put the muzzle back on Vic and after Vic had wrestled another grown man, as we were leaving a huge tarantula came walking in the back door like he owned the place. Everyone was afraid of the huge spider, women and children screamed and some guy ran over and stomped on it and the spider goo and legs squished out from under his shoe on both sides.
Everyone was afraid of the spider, everyone but me that is......it was a long time before anything could scare me....
After all... I had gone one round with Victor The Wrestling Bear.
BTW: I know there are some that don't believe this story. I knew that there would be those that wouldn't believe. I can scan the official press photo if I need to offer proof. I tried to get it autographed but Vic couldn't hold the pen.... no thumbs....
Enjoyed your article, which I stumbled across due to regularly googling Elk City. I thought maybe you from from a family I knew in Elk City, until I saw your birthdate as 1959. That was the year I graduated from Elk City High School, and left the area shortly after that. The wrestlers must of come after my time.
Dwight Garretson
Fredericksburg, VA
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