Post by Stu-E Price on Jul 28, 2007 8:46:19 GMT -5
DAVEY
Davey was born in Golborne, a rough neighborhood near Manchester, England. Kids there were always up to no good—breaking windows, writing on walls, kind of like Harlem in New York.
Davey's dad Sid was a natural gas line fitter. Unlike the other dads who'd spend their paychecks in the pub, Sid would head straight home after work and drink his beer there. He was a big man, six foot, one inch, 240 pounds and strict, though he never hit Davey. There was no need. Davey was inattentive at school, but otherwise he kept his nose clean.
Sid was proud of his only son's athletic ability. Davey wasn't big, but he was acrobatic and fearless. When Davey was 12, Sid approached Ted Betley. Ted ran a mobile grocery store and trained wrestlers. He had trained Davey's cousin, Tom ‘Dynamite Kid’ Billington.
Ted was building a new house and Sid offered to trade the pipe fitting work for a few lessons for Davey. In addition, Davey would deliver groceries for Ted. So Davey spent his days bicycling all over Manchester with huge loads of groceries hanging from the handlebars. He'd do 30 to 40 deliveries a day. Sometimes, the bags were so heavy his bike would almost bend.
By 15 years of age, Davey was ready to turn pro, even though promoters didn't usually start their people until they were 19 or 20. Thanks to diet, exercise and training, Davey had increased in size and strength dramatically. At five foot nine, he was now a good grappling weight, 145 pounds. He won his first match against a 20 year old named Bernie Wright. When Bruce scouted Tom, he also saw potential in Davey, but considered him too young. Four years later, they called him over. Davey didn't hesitate. Dynamite was his hero.
When he arrived, Bruce and Dynamite picked him up in Bruce's big Buick Riviera. Davey was so awestruck he barely noticed the look of surprise and slight envy his cousin gave him. Davey had grown to almost six feet and weighed about 180.
"Wow this is a neat car!" Davey exclaimed, patting the soft leather seats. He'd never seen a Riviera up close. As they made their way from the airport to Dynamite's house, Davey was impressed by the size of the city. Everything was so spacious compared to Manchester. Life would be grand in Calgary.
He woke up the next morning and made himself a huge breakfast of bacon and eggs. Dynamite stumbled into the kitchen, his head throbbing from a big night out. He brought a glass of orange juice to the table and plunked it down.
“Drink this," he ordered.
“Thanks!" said Davey grabbing the glass and downing it in a single gulp. A few minutes later, as he scraped the last of the egg of his plate, Davey started to feel woozy. He'd never taken a pill, not even aspirin in his life and had never been drunk, yet he could barely stand and he was slurring his words. As he stumbled over to the couch, he could hear Dynamite laughing.
The next two weeks were a nightmare for Davey. Dynamite had given him chocolate bars, which turned out to be Ex-Lax and continued spiking his food with Valium. Dynamite was jealous of his young cousin, who was bigger, stronger and more likable so he kept up the mean pranks.
Tom's favorite pastime was drugging people by putting things like laxatives in their coffee. Tom's wife, Michelle, watched all this happen. She sat by, too frightened of Tom's vicious temper to warn Davey about the poisonings. Davey would get debilitating diarrhea with piercing abdominal pain for the three days.
He finally wised up and stopped accepting any sort of food or drink from Tom, so Tom insisted Michelle give him spiked food.
“He'll take it from you," Tom would cackle. Finally, Davey couldn't take it anymore. He no longer trusted any of the food at Dynamite's house and began losing weight. He confided his problem to my brother Bret. Bret was seven years older and a bit of a big brother figure to Davey. Bret opened his door to Davey and immediately welcomed him in as a roommate. Mom and Dad instilled that quality in all of us.
When it came to romance girls, Davey was as inexperienced as he was about drugs and at 17, so was I. Dynamite warned him off Stu's daughters. He wasn't to go near us or Dad would send him packing. But I had seen Davey's photo in a Stampede Wrestling program and developed an instant crush on him. I kept the picture in my high school binder. I'd stare at it while my teachers droned on and on. I found out through the grapevine, when Davey's day off was and contrived to drop by Bret's on that day.
I had sort of made up my mind Davey was the man for me even before I met him.
Davey's manner is and always has been kind of remote, so when he answered the door he merely left it open and ambled back to his game of solitaire. I'd brought along my girlfriend Alison Hall for moral support and because I knew my dad would kill me if I saw Davey unchaperoned. I had intended to invite him to a movie with all of us, but he seemed so distant, I lost my nerve. I picked up Bret's phone and pretended to dial home and ask for Owen.
Davey suddenly barked. "What're doin'? Yer ruinin' my game!"
“I'm trying to get hold of my brother Owen to ask him to a movie. I have an extra ticket," I gulped.
“Oh." He shrugged.
“But," I continued, "I can't get through and it's going to start in an hour. Do you want to come along?"
Davey's eyes lit up. He loved American movies. They were so exciting. He envisioned Burt Reynolds chasing through the streets in a souped-up semi. "Sure."
We went to Excalibur, a romantic epic about King Arthur, which included stars now famous, Liam Neeson, Patrick Stewart, Gabriel Byrne and English wrestler, Pat Roach.
Partway through, Davey leaned over and yawned. "What's this supposed to be about anyway?"
We started going to movies and playing racquetball together, always carefully monitored by one of my brothers or a sister. As our relationship progressed, Dynamite became madder and madder.
“I told you to leave Stu's daughters alone!" he'd growl at Davey. Tom didn't want Davey to have a stronger foothold in the Hart family than he had.
Half a year later in October of 1981, I turned 18. My dad loaned me his 1981 red Cadillac Seville. I picked up Davey and we made our way up Scotchman's' Hill, the local make-out spot to ‘watch the sunset.’ We'd kissed a little in the past, but nothing too heavy.
That night we climbed into the back and made love for the first time. It was not wonderful sex because I felt a terrible sense of guilt, but I was in love. Davey opened the door for me and I slid into the front seat on a cloud of happiness and turned the key. The car wouldn't start. I'd left the lights on. The battery was dead. Davey looked at me in horror.
“Holy God, here I am with Stu's daughter, on top of Scotchman's Hill. Holy God! How are we gonna explain this?"
I put the car in neutral and he pushed me down the hill to the 7-11. My brother Wayne lived just across from it. We would say the car stalled there while we were buying Slurpees. No one would suspect a thing, I assured him. I could hear Davey grunting and groaning as he pushed. We made our way from the bottom of the hill toward the store. The Caddy weighed a ton and we were on flat land. He stopped for a breath.
“Di, I dunno if I can keep goin'!" he panted.
“I could always call my dad for a boost," I replied. Davey starting pushing with renewed vigor.
My dad had a big wrestling show with New Japan Pro Wrestling. They were the WWF of Japan. It was a big invitational tournament. Antonio Inoki, Japan's prince of wrestling, ran the promotion. Two heavyweights wrestled the main event, Bret and Seiji Sakaguichi. Davey was up first with Kobiashi. I watched with pride. Davey's match was loaded with strategic high spots, good psychology and terrific pacing. They didn't speak the same language, and they had never wrestled each other before, but they had great chemistry. It was an important career match for Davey.
Bret and Dynamite watched Davey's match from the curtain. I saw them exchange looks. Davey was becoming a contender. New Japan and Stampede Wrestling had scheduled a big meeting after the show. They were going to determine which Stampede wrestlers would be invited to Japan for a return tour. Bret and Tom intercepted Davey and me on our way to say hi to Inoki and told us to meet with everyone at the Sushi Hiro restaurant in an hour. We were pretty excited.
Davey smiled at me, "I've never had sushi before, but I'll sure as hell have it tonight."
We waited at the restaurant for a couple of hours before we realized we'd been double-crossed. Meanwhile, Bret and Tom joined the meeting over at the real location, the Four Seasons Hotel. Antonio and his agents including, Seiji Sakaguichi and Tatsumi Fujianmi, Bret, Bruce, Dynamite and my dad all reviewed the talent and matches.
I told my dad what Bret and Tom had done. It wasn't fair. He said he thought Davey had a hell of a match and not to be too concerned. He made the decisions.
“Keep your nose to the ground, Di. Don't get wound up."
I was still stewing so I went down to the running machine in the dungeon to work off some anger. Bruce found me down there. He said Bret and Dynamite buried Davey at the meeting.
They told Antonio Inoki that Davey was too young, too green, too small, too stupid and didn't have enough experience to wrestle in Japan. They complained Davey had too many high spots in his match and that he tried to overshadow the main event."
This implied Davey wasn't a team player. Bruce claimed he defended Davey and had words with Bret.
“Now Bret is mad and he is here looking for you, so you’d better make yourself scarce." My dad always said Bruce was just like Bugs Bunny. He liked to stir things up then step back and enjoy the show.
I figured Bret was probably trying to find me to set me straight on the hows and whys of wrestling. I got off the machine and headed over to Ellie and Jim's for refuge.
Bret spotted me on the pavement between the two houses and bolted out of the kitchen toward me. He grabbed the collar of my tee shirt in his fist, choking me. I struggled to get free and he ripped the tee shirt right off my body. He was livid.
“What's this you telling dad that Davey deserves a shot in Japan?"
I felt so vulnerable standing there in a bra and pair of shorts, but I didn't back down.
"You're jealous of Davey. You and Tom kay-fabed (deceived) Davey. He deserves a chance just like you two! You're so jealous you told us to go to the wrong restaurant!"
He stood over me, his huge knuckles white with fury. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. Davey is so stupid and unprofessional! If he knew anything about wrestling he'd know you don't have 20 high spots in the first match. How's the main event supposed to follow that?"
I maintained Davey was bigger than him or Tom and that Dad made the decisions not him.
“Shuttup or I'll pull your blonde hair out by its black roots!" he countered.
I socked him in the mouth, splitting his bottom lip. He grabbed my wrist.
Meanwhile, Jim was working out with Davey in the carriage house, enjoying a joint and a Pilsner. "Do you hear screaming, Ellie?'
“It sounds like Diana," she said as she opened the door. Seeing Bret's hand on my wrist she yelled, “Let go of her, Bret!"
“Take a number, Ellie, you're next!” came his reply.
Beer in one hand, joint in the other, Jim pushed Ellie aside. "You can't talk to my wife that way."
Davey followed Jim out the door. “Let ’er go Bret."
“This is all your fault, you stupid ass! As long as I'm in charge, you are never going to wrestle in Japan. That's a promise not a threat. Tom and I are going to run Japan. You'll be lucky to pump gas into our cars."
Ross had heard the commotion and rushed to my defense. He leg-dived Bret, forcing him to let me go. Ross and Bret were down on the gravel with Ross trying to restrain him. I ran over to Davey.
My dad bolted from the kitchen, "This is the ugliest gaddamned thing I've ever seen in my life. I want you to all break it up right now!"
Everyone froze. Ross climbed off Bret who got up and pointed at Ross, "This has nothing to do with you. Why the hell are you involved?"
Ross brushed himself off. "Well Bret, I'm not about to stand by and watch my sister be harassed by her older brother."
“That's enough everyone. That gaddamn Bruce, he started all this didn't he?" My dad shook his head.
“This had nothing to do with Bruce, Dad. Bret is just jealous of Davey." I yelled.
Bruce heard his name being mentioned and ran down from the porch, "I don't know a thing about this!"
“I saw you go down to the basement and stir Diana up. You instigated this whole gaddamn mess, Bruce," my dad accused.
“Like hell I did!" Bruce retorted.
My dad scolded, "That's why I can never have you running my business Bruce. You can't be in charge. You're a gaddamn trouble-maker."
This seemed to pacify Bret. "Bruce doesn't call the shots around here. Dad does. That’s why dad is putting me in charge, Bruce."
“I make the gaddamn decisions around here." My dad thundered. "I'll decide who is going to Japan!"
The fight broke up and everyone dispersed, but it remained a sore spot for years until we eventually learned to laugh about it.
My dad did recognize Davey's talent and Davey did wrestle in Japan. Davey remained loyal to my dad for nearly 20 years.
Davey proposed to me at my sister Alison's wedding to wrestler Ben Bassarab. He approached my mom first and then my dad to ask for my hand. Davey said my mom looked as if she might faint, but they gave their blessing and he asked me to step out onto the huge balcony at my parents’ mansion.
Out of his pocket, he hauled a beautiful triple-diamond ring that cost him a month's salary and by the time he slipped it onto my finger, we were both crying with happiness.
Davey was born in Golborne, a rough neighborhood near Manchester, England. Kids there were always up to no good—breaking windows, writing on walls, kind of like Harlem in New York.
Davey's dad Sid was a natural gas line fitter. Unlike the other dads who'd spend their paychecks in the pub, Sid would head straight home after work and drink his beer there. He was a big man, six foot, one inch, 240 pounds and strict, though he never hit Davey. There was no need. Davey was inattentive at school, but otherwise he kept his nose clean.
Sid was proud of his only son's athletic ability. Davey wasn't big, but he was acrobatic and fearless. When Davey was 12, Sid approached Ted Betley. Ted ran a mobile grocery store and trained wrestlers. He had trained Davey's cousin, Tom ‘Dynamite Kid’ Billington.
Ted was building a new house and Sid offered to trade the pipe fitting work for a few lessons for Davey. In addition, Davey would deliver groceries for Ted. So Davey spent his days bicycling all over Manchester with huge loads of groceries hanging from the handlebars. He'd do 30 to 40 deliveries a day. Sometimes, the bags were so heavy his bike would almost bend.
By 15 years of age, Davey was ready to turn pro, even though promoters didn't usually start their people until they were 19 or 20. Thanks to diet, exercise and training, Davey had increased in size and strength dramatically. At five foot nine, he was now a good grappling weight, 145 pounds. He won his first match against a 20 year old named Bernie Wright. When Bruce scouted Tom, he also saw potential in Davey, but considered him too young. Four years later, they called him over. Davey didn't hesitate. Dynamite was his hero.
When he arrived, Bruce and Dynamite picked him up in Bruce's big Buick Riviera. Davey was so awestruck he barely noticed the look of surprise and slight envy his cousin gave him. Davey had grown to almost six feet and weighed about 180.
"Wow this is a neat car!" Davey exclaimed, patting the soft leather seats. He'd never seen a Riviera up close. As they made their way from the airport to Dynamite's house, Davey was impressed by the size of the city. Everything was so spacious compared to Manchester. Life would be grand in Calgary.
He woke up the next morning and made himself a huge breakfast of bacon and eggs. Dynamite stumbled into the kitchen, his head throbbing from a big night out. He brought a glass of orange juice to the table and plunked it down.
“Drink this," he ordered.
“Thanks!" said Davey grabbing the glass and downing it in a single gulp. A few minutes later, as he scraped the last of the egg of his plate, Davey started to feel woozy. He'd never taken a pill, not even aspirin in his life and had never been drunk, yet he could barely stand and he was slurring his words. As he stumbled over to the couch, he could hear Dynamite laughing.
The next two weeks were a nightmare for Davey. Dynamite had given him chocolate bars, which turned out to be Ex-Lax and continued spiking his food with Valium. Dynamite was jealous of his young cousin, who was bigger, stronger and more likable so he kept up the mean pranks.
Tom's favorite pastime was drugging people by putting things like laxatives in their coffee. Tom's wife, Michelle, watched all this happen. She sat by, too frightened of Tom's vicious temper to warn Davey about the poisonings. Davey would get debilitating diarrhea with piercing abdominal pain for the three days.
He finally wised up and stopped accepting any sort of food or drink from Tom, so Tom insisted Michelle give him spiked food.
“He'll take it from you," Tom would cackle. Finally, Davey couldn't take it anymore. He no longer trusted any of the food at Dynamite's house and began losing weight. He confided his problem to my brother Bret. Bret was seven years older and a bit of a big brother figure to Davey. Bret opened his door to Davey and immediately welcomed him in as a roommate. Mom and Dad instilled that quality in all of us.
When it came to romance girls, Davey was as inexperienced as he was about drugs and at 17, so was I. Dynamite warned him off Stu's daughters. He wasn't to go near us or Dad would send him packing. But I had seen Davey's photo in a Stampede Wrestling program and developed an instant crush on him. I kept the picture in my high school binder. I'd stare at it while my teachers droned on and on. I found out through the grapevine, when Davey's day off was and contrived to drop by Bret's on that day.
I had sort of made up my mind Davey was the man for me even before I met him.
Davey's manner is and always has been kind of remote, so when he answered the door he merely left it open and ambled back to his game of solitaire. I'd brought along my girlfriend Alison Hall for moral support and because I knew my dad would kill me if I saw Davey unchaperoned. I had intended to invite him to a movie with all of us, but he seemed so distant, I lost my nerve. I picked up Bret's phone and pretended to dial home and ask for Owen.
Davey suddenly barked. "What're doin'? Yer ruinin' my game!"
“I'm trying to get hold of my brother Owen to ask him to a movie. I have an extra ticket," I gulped.
“Oh." He shrugged.
“But," I continued, "I can't get through and it's going to start in an hour. Do you want to come along?"
Davey's eyes lit up. He loved American movies. They were so exciting. He envisioned Burt Reynolds chasing through the streets in a souped-up semi. "Sure."
We went to Excalibur, a romantic epic about King Arthur, which included stars now famous, Liam Neeson, Patrick Stewart, Gabriel Byrne and English wrestler, Pat Roach.
Partway through, Davey leaned over and yawned. "What's this supposed to be about anyway?"
We started going to movies and playing racquetball together, always carefully monitored by one of my brothers or a sister. As our relationship progressed, Dynamite became madder and madder.
“I told you to leave Stu's daughters alone!" he'd growl at Davey. Tom didn't want Davey to have a stronger foothold in the Hart family than he had.
Half a year later in October of 1981, I turned 18. My dad loaned me his 1981 red Cadillac Seville. I picked up Davey and we made our way up Scotchman's' Hill, the local make-out spot to ‘watch the sunset.’ We'd kissed a little in the past, but nothing too heavy.
That night we climbed into the back and made love for the first time. It was not wonderful sex because I felt a terrible sense of guilt, but I was in love. Davey opened the door for me and I slid into the front seat on a cloud of happiness and turned the key. The car wouldn't start. I'd left the lights on. The battery was dead. Davey looked at me in horror.
“Holy God, here I am with Stu's daughter, on top of Scotchman's Hill. Holy God! How are we gonna explain this?"
I put the car in neutral and he pushed me down the hill to the 7-11. My brother Wayne lived just across from it. We would say the car stalled there while we were buying Slurpees. No one would suspect a thing, I assured him. I could hear Davey grunting and groaning as he pushed. We made our way from the bottom of the hill toward the store. The Caddy weighed a ton and we were on flat land. He stopped for a breath.
“Di, I dunno if I can keep goin'!" he panted.
“I could always call my dad for a boost," I replied. Davey starting pushing with renewed vigor.
My dad had a big wrestling show with New Japan Pro Wrestling. They were the WWF of Japan. It was a big invitational tournament. Antonio Inoki, Japan's prince of wrestling, ran the promotion. Two heavyweights wrestled the main event, Bret and Seiji Sakaguichi. Davey was up first with Kobiashi. I watched with pride. Davey's match was loaded with strategic high spots, good psychology and terrific pacing. They didn't speak the same language, and they had never wrestled each other before, but they had great chemistry. It was an important career match for Davey.
Bret and Dynamite watched Davey's match from the curtain. I saw them exchange looks. Davey was becoming a contender. New Japan and Stampede Wrestling had scheduled a big meeting after the show. They were going to determine which Stampede wrestlers would be invited to Japan for a return tour. Bret and Tom intercepted Davey and me on our way to say hi to Inoki and told us to meet with everyone at the Sushi Hiro restaurant in an hour. We were pretty excited.
Davey smiled at me, "I've never had sushi before, but I'll sure as hell have it tonight."
We waited at the restaurant for a couple of hours before we realized we'd been double-crossed. Meanwhile, Bret and Tom joined the meeting over at the real location, the Four Seasons Hotel. Antonio and his agents including, Seiji Sakaguichi and Tatsumi Fujianmi, Bret, Bruce, Dynamite and my dad all reviewed the talent and matches.
I told my dad what Bret and Tom had done. It wasn't fair. He said he thought Davey had a hell of a match and not to be too concerned. He made the decisions.
“Keep your nose to the ground, Di. Don't get wound up."
I was still stewing so I went down to the running machine in the dungeon to work off some anger. Bruce found me down there. He said Bret and Dynamite buried Davey at the meeting.
They told Antonio Inoki that Davey was too young, too green, too small, too stupid and didn't have enough experience to wrestle in Japan. They complained Davey had too many high spots in his match and that he tried to overshadow the main event."
This implied Davey wasn't a team player. Bruce claimed he defended Davey and had words with Bret.
“Now Bret is mad and he is here looking for you, so you’d better make yourself scarce." My dad always said Bruce was just like Bugs Bunny. He liked to stir things up then step back and enjoy the show.
I figured Bret was probably trying to find me to set me straight on the hows and whys of wrestling. I got off the machine and headed over to Ellie and Jim's for refuge.
Bret spotted me on the pavement between the two houses and bolted out of the kitchen toward me. He grabbed the collar of my tee shirt in his fist, choking me. I struggled to get free and he ripped the tee shirt right off my body. He was livid.
“What's this you telling dad that Davey deserves a shot in Japan?"
I felt so vulnerable standing there in a bra and pair of shorts, but I didn't back down.
"You're jealous of Davey. You and Tom kay-fabed (deceived) Davey. He deserves a chance just like you two! You're so jealous you told us to go to the wrong restaurant!"
He stood over me, his huge knuckles white with fury. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. Davey is so stupid and unprofessional! If he knew anything about wrestling he'd know you don't have 20 high spots in the first match. How's the main event supposed to follow that?"
I maintained Davey was bigger than him or Tom and that Dad made the decisions not him.
“Shuttup or I'll pull your blonde hair out by its black roots!" he countered.
I socked him in the mouth, splitting his bottom lip. He grabbed my wrist.
Meanwhile, Jim was working out with Davey in the carriage house, enjoying a joint and a Pilsner. "Do you hear screaming, Ellie?'
“It sounds like Diana," she said as she opened the door. Seeing Bret's hand on my wrist she yelled, “Let go of her, Bret!"
“Take a number, Ellie, you're next!” came his reply.
Beer in one hand, joint in the other, Jim pushed Ellie aside. "You can't talk to my wife that way."
Davey followed Jim out the door. “Let ’er go Bret."
“This is all your fault, you stupid ass! As long as I'm in charge, you are never going to wrestle in Japan. That's a promise not a threat. Tom and I are going to run Japan. You'll be lucky to pump gas into our cars."
Ross had heard the commotion and rushed to my defense. He leg-dived Bret, forcing him to let me go. Ross and Bret were down on the gravel with Ross trying to restrain him. I ran over to Davey.
My dad bolted from the kitchen, "This is the ugliest gaddamned thing I've ever seen in my life. I want you to all break it up right now!"
Everyone froze. Ross climbed off Bret who got up and pointed at Ross, "This has nothing to do with you. Why the hell are you involved?"
Ross brushed himself off. "Well Bret, I'm not about to stand by and watch my sister be harassed by her older brother."
“That's enough everyone. That gaddamn Bruce, he started all this didn't he?" My dad shook his head.
“This had nothing to do with Bruce, Dad. Bret is just jealous of Davey." I yelled.
Bruce heard his name being mentioned and ran down from the porch, "I don't know a thing about this!"
“I saw you go down to the basement and stir Diana up. You instigated this whole gaddamn mess, Bruce," my dad accused.
“Like hell I did!" Bruce retorted.
My dad scolded, "That's why I can never have you running my business Bruce. You can't be in charge. You're a gaddamn trouble-maker."
This seemed to pacify Bret. "Bruce doesn't call the shots around here. Dad does. That’s why dad is putting me in charge, Bruce."
“I make the gaddamn decisions around here." My dad thundered. "I'll decide who is going to Japan!"
The fight broke up and everyone dispersed, but it remained a sore spot for years until we eventually learned to laugh about it.
My dad did recognize Davey's talent and Davey did wrestle in Japan. Davey remained loyal to my dad for nearly 20 years.
Davey proposed to me at my sister Alison's wedding to wrestler Ben Bassarab. He approached my mom first and then my dad to ask for my hand. Davey said my mom looked as if she might faint, but they gave their blessing and he asked me to step out onto the huge balcony at my parents’ mansion.
Out of his pocket, he hauled a beautiful triple-diamond ring that cost him a month's salary and by the time he slipped it onto my finger, we were both crying with happiness.