Post by CW .org .info .net on Feb 13, 2023 12:49:12 GMT -6
Adrian Street Biography
I didn’t always want to be a wrestler. Not until I was about 9 years old anyway. Before that, in between dodging Hitler’s bombs, I wanted to be a red Indian chief. So even at that age, I wore feathers in my hair and painted my face with the most garish colors I could find in my paint box.
I was appalled when I saw a movie in which Chief Yellowhand was killed, in a hand to hand fight with Buffalo Bill Cody and I swore that no paleface, or any other kind of face [especially a baby face] would ever beat me.
I wanted to fight or wrestle everyone I met and, considering the fact that I was born and grew up in a rough, tough mining town, I had an endless supply of roughnecks to practice on.
I passed my scholarship to Bryn Mawr Grammar School on my first try, but I got expelled 2 years later, as I hated school and still preferred fighting to doing homework. I left school at the age of 15 and began work in Beynons Colliery with my father and older brother. I hated it! In the winter, the only time I saw daylight was on a Sunday. To hell with this crap! When I was 16 years old, I left home and went to live in London. I knew I was very good at hurting people - I could beat everyone at school - I could beat everyone in the coal mine - so why not get paid for it? I was going to be the best fighter in the world! I was going to be a professional wrestler!
I had been lifting weights since I was about 12 years of age. At 5’7” I had built myself up to 179 lbs by the time I reached London.
At first, I worked in a nut and bolt factory, then with the Greyhounds at Wembley Stadium, then the railway, then digging holes in the road for the waterboard. I hated it! I decided that J.O.B. stood for “just over broke” and it was just not my style. I quit work and I’ve never worked for anyone since. I subsidized posing for bodybuilding magazines with boxing on a fairground booth and sometimes boxed as many as 7 times in one day so I could raise enough money to be a wrestler without any other distractions.
I became addicted to wrestling and weightlifting. I did both eleven times a week. In fact, I trained so hard, although I was trying to gain weight, I dropped from 179 lbs to 144 lbs. I was still very strong (I was 154 lbs and 168 lbs weightlifting champion of London’s Foresters Club). I realized I needed to gain back some weight.
My first pro match was in the Addington Hotel, in New Addington, London, August 8th, 1957. I was still 16 and had [gotten] my weight up to 150 lbs. I assumed the name of “Kid Tarzan Jonathan” (after my wrestling idol of the period, the “Mormon Giant” Don Leo Jonathan). My first opponent was “Gentleman” Geoff Moran and we were main event. Not bad for my first match! I was so excited walking to the ring for the first time, I couldn’t feel my feet touching the ground. My opponent had quite a big reputation in the independent wrestling circle, so the fans there that night were absolutely stunned when the bell rang and I immediately rushed across the ring and I attacked my opponent with the ferocity of a rabid wolverine. I won the match in less than 2 minutes by dislocating my opponent’s shoulder. I strutted back to the dressing room as though I owned the place, I could hardly wait to get the reaction of the promoter and the other wrestlers on the card.
“I think I’m ready for my first championship match,” I shouted at the promoter as I burst back into the dressing room. “What did you think of my match?” The promoter’s face was purple. “What the f- do you think you were doing out there?” He screamed. “Do you think the fans are going to be happy, paying good money to watch a main event match that lasts only 2 f’ng minutes?”
Oops. Oh well. How embarrassing. I felt completely deflated as I sat dejected in the corner, suffering looks of disgust and derision from everyone in the dressing room.
About an hour later, the promoter came up to me, and instead of hitting me with a chair, said, in an amazingly calm voice, “ You’re gonna have to help me out kid. Gentlemen Geoff’s wife just called me from the hospital. She says he’s not going to be able to wrestle for a while and I’ve got him billed in main event matches all over the south of England. You f’d him up. You’re gonna have to take his place.”
“You can count on me,” I replied, gallantly. “Yeah, right,” he said, eyeing me, as though I was something he just scraped off his shoe. “And try not to cripple any more of your opponents “he growled “but if you have to, make sure it takes you at least 20 to 30 minutes to do it,” he added big heartedly. Boy, isn’t wrestling great?
I worked the independent wrestling circuit for the next three years, collecting the Welsh Welterweight Title [along] the way and learning shoot wrestling from Junior World Heavyweight Champion Mike Dimetri. I was billed as the youngest in the world, for a while, until an excellent young named Leon Fortuna came along, and usurped mean by a few months.
Ever since I first arrived in London, I kept bugging “Dale Martin’s, The World’s Biggest Wrestling Promotions” to give me a chance to show them what I got. They kept sending me away, saying I was young; I needed more experience, more size, and to come back in a few years, when I’d grow up. Every few weeks I’d go back and try again, just to be told the same thing. I’d began to despair of ever wrestling for Dale Martin’s when I received an offer to go to Rome and appear in the gladiator/barbarian movies, that the great American bodybuilder, Steve Reeves was making famous at that time. I was just about to leave Britain for Italy when I got a letter from Dale Martin’s with the offer of eight matches for the month of August 1960. I now have to decide if I wanted to be a film star or a wrestler. Well, I guess you know by now which one I chose!
Dale Martin’s gave me 12 more matches in the month of September and after that it was very rare for me to Russell less than 30 times a month. Yippee! I’d arrived. When I told them I wanted to show them what I’d got, they certainly took me at my word. My premier outing saw me in the main event at Weymouth, wrestling against “Mr. TV” Jackie Pallo, one of the biggest names in my weight division at that time. Next was Alan Colbeck, European Middleweight Champion and third was Melvin Riss, British Lightweight Champion, Josef Ski, Middleweight Champion of Poland, Tony Scarlo of Italy, Johnny Kwango and Masambula, both of West Africa, Leon Fortuna from Tonga, Stefan Milla of Denmark, Mick McManus, “Ironman” Steve Logan, “Bombastic” Billy Stock, and “Bad Boy” Bobby Barnes of London, the Cortez Brothers, Jon and Peter of Spain; the Borg Twins of Malta, Alan Miquet and Julien Morice of France were all amongst my early opponents. These names may not be very recognizable to my American fans, but believe me, each one of the above mentioned, were better wrestlers than anything I’ve ever seen in the USA.
The first thing I was told by Dale Martin’s was that they didn’t like my wrestling name, Kid Tarzan Jonathan and the second was that they would not recognize the Welsh Welterweight Title I had won on the independent circuit. I decided to use my real name, which is Adrian Street, and demanded a shot at the Welsh Lightweight Title held by Welsh Champion, Cardiff’s Johnny Williams. I won the Welsh Lightweight Title in the Colson Hall [in] Bristol, in seven rounds, and Dale Martin’s began billing me as “Nature Boy” Adrian Street as result of the huge amount of walking I did as part of my preparation for my title match.
Ric Flair likes to claim that he has the greatest right to use the name “Nature Boy,”but I was wrestling all over Europe billed as the “Nature Boy” about 12 years before Ric Flair was even a pro wrestler. Talking about Ric Flair, who has won the NWA/WCW version of the world heavyweight title umpteen different times; I have 15 different world titles, three of them different weight divisions. Even Ric Flair has never done that! Boy, am I great!
Well, I am now, but it didn’t happen overnight. When I first began wrestling for Dale Martin’s, the only time I would wrestle in a main event contest was if I was wrestling a big name main event wrestler. If not, then my match might just be a preliminary. Not a very happy situation for someone with an ego like mine to satisfy.
When I first became interested in professional wrestling as a kid, I got all my information about the sport from the American boxing and wrestling magazines long before I’d ever seen a live wrestling match. Flamboyant American wrestlers like “Nature Boy” Buddy Rogers, Gene and Steve Stanlee, Dr. Jerry Graham, Chief Don Eagle, Don Leo Jonathan, Yukon Eric, Argentina Rocca, Jim Londos the Golden Greek, Bobo Brazil, just to name a few, really inspired me. So when I saw my first live wrestling matches in Britain, I must say I was more than a little disappointed with the lack of color and showmanship displayed by the wrestlers. Now please, don’t get me wrong, I still maintain that British wrestlers are the best wrestlers I have ever seen. But! No color, very little imagination, and the flamboyance, as compared to the American counterparts was almost nonexistent. I decided to combine both.
First, I bleached my hair blonde. Then, I invested in a baby blue velvet robe with a silver lining, baby blue matching trunks, and baby blue matching boots. I weighed 165 pounds with a 48 inch chest, 27 inch waist, and a great suntan. I looked fantastic!
I would stride from the dressing room to the ring, and the fans would gasp with delight and amazement at the site of the image of the super athlete I had become. Yeah, right! I was in for a bigger surprise than the fans were. Instead of thunderous cheers of admiration and approval my image would inspire, all it provoked was deafening wolf whistles and masculine voices assuming effeminate shrieks of things like “See you after the show Mary,” and “Oh, isn’t she pretty!” I was shocked and horrified. There was no way that I was going to let all those fans see how disappointed I was with their response to my new image, so instead of becoming indignant, or appearing crestfallen, I began to blow kisses at the most offensive of my critics (much to their embarrassment) and my stride evolved into a graceful skip as I continued into and around the ring. “Right, you bastards,” I thought. “If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.” I grabbed the ref and gave him a great smacking kiss, followed by a gentle pat on the ass to help him on his way. The crowd exploded! “Good! “I thought, as I checked my fingernails and fussed with my hair. Now you lot know what it feels like to be shocked and horrified. My opponent’s facial expression wasn’t lost on me either, as I pouted my lips seductively in his direction. He looked like he would have been happier in a third rate hotel in Arkansas with a toothache.
The match began and I continued in the same vein. I was driven with spite and I decided to punish everyone present for their unappreciative response to my efforts to entertain them. If Darwin’s theory of evolution holds any merit, I thought disgustedly maybe these Neanderthals will understand what I was attempting to do in another million years.
Well, that’s how the image of “Exotic” Adrian Street got started. I didn’t get the kind of reaction from the fans I expected, but I had never seen any other wrestler get so much reaction before. I took stock of the situation and decided who gives a F what kind of reaction it was, I want more of it! So that’s how the butchiest of the butch became a transvestite.
I wore a very small amount of facial make up at first, but it gradually became more garish, the hair longer, and the gowns more outlandish. Every time I appeared on TV, I wore a new and more elaborate gown. It became a standard joke with many of the other wrestlers of that period who used to quip, “Is that another gown?” “Yes, of course,” I’d reply. “Huh” they’d retort. “Adrian Street won’t have any money left by the time he’s finished with wrestling, but he’ll sure have some gowns, ha ha ha!” What they didn’t seem to realize is, when you’re main event every night, you can afford to spend money on great gear and, in my opinion, I never saw a star who didn’t dress like one.
An unexpected bonus came out of my designing, fabulous costumes, as I also began to design clothes for “Carnaby Cavern” in London’s Carnaby Street and “Granny Takes A Trip” in Kings Road, Chelsea. Many of my creations have been worn by stars like Marc Bolan, David Bowie, Adam Ant, Gary Glitter, and Elton John, just to name a few. But the best bonus of all is the fact that my wife, Linda and I own Bizarre Bazaar, The World’s Best Wrestling Wear, were you don’t have to pay an arm, or leg, for the best wrestling gear on the planet. Which is just as well, ‘cause unless you have a gimmick that is stranger than mine, you’ll need your arms and legs for wrestling. Talking about wrestling, let’s get back to it.
Just prior to me, becoming the all-time greatest queen bitch of pro wrestling, the tag team epidemic set in the UK. My first regular tag partner was the great fellow Welsh wrestler, Tony Charles. We wrestled as the Welsh Wizards, and as our titles suggests we were magic, but when my new image emerged, it proved to be too big, a contrast of styles. Plus, the Welsh Wizards were good guys, and, after my metamorphosis, the fans didn’t only hate my guts, they also loathed my liver. I was now on the lookout for a partner who complemented my new image and “Bad Boy” Bobby Barnes was perfect! He became “Beautiful” Bobby Barnes. We became the “Hell’s Angels” and the rest is history. History most violent, and remember, “violence is golden.” We beat everybody, in and out of the ring. We soon became the European Tag Team Champions and defended our titles all over Malta, Britain, Belgium, France, and Spain.
Not long after my return to Britain from Spain in 1968, I became very interested in Marine tropical fish, as I found that some of them were almost as “exotic” as me. I used to purchase my collection. From a beautiful lady named Linda, and we’ve been together now since 1969.
In 1973, Linda got it into her head that she wanted to become a professional wrestler. Dale Martin’s would not employ female wrestlers, so I left them and joined “The Ogre of North Wales” Orig Williams, who was promoting “The British Wrestling Federation.” Orig had a stable, and I do mean stable, other, very rough, tough girls. Linda became a very proficient student and I would definitely put her on par with some of my other top students, such as Mick, Foley, Fit Finlay, Lord Steven Regal, Belgium’s Bernard Van Damme, and “Awesome” Al Savage.
My love of native Americans influenced Linda’s wrestling image, and she wrestled as “Blackfoot Sioux” for the first eight years of her wrestling career. Blackfoot Sioux would sometimes team up with “Red Indian” Johnny War Eagle for mixed tag, team matches, but, as my tag partner, we won the world mixed tag team championship from Poland’s Don Kovacs and his partner, “Saucy” Suzie Parker in Germany. We defended the world title in Germany, the Canary Islands, Malta, France, all over Africa, Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, the Seychelles, Britain, Canada, Mexico, and the USA; and we have never been defeated. That, by the way, is far more impressive than claiming to have won a title umpteen different times.
By this time, I had already won the European Middleweight Title and the European Light Heavyweight Title. Soon after I won the World Middleweight Title in Lusaka, Zambia, the only time I ever lost the Middleweight Title was not in the ring, but at the table, as I was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain my bodyweight. I regained the world title in a middleweight tournament held in Liverpool Stadium defeating great stars like Ricky Starr, The Amazing American Ballet Dancer, Ian Gilmore of Scotland, Mick McMichael of Yorkshire, and Jon Cortez of Spain. I relinquished the title with pleasure soon after, defeated by my enormous appetite, and probably one of the World Light Heavyweight Title, also in Lusaka, Zambia.
My story would not be complete without the mention of George Kid, the Lightweight Champion of the World, and, in my not very humble opinion, one of the best wrestlers ever to step into the ring.
The story started way back in the time when I had just won the Welsh Lightweight Title and I was hungry for more lightweight glory. I was introduced to George Kid and we instantly despised each other with a passion. At first, he flatly refused to give me a title shot, stating “Maybe with merit, but compared to him, I was a nobody… and George Kid didn’t become the lightweight king of wrestling by wrestling the likes of me.” But, by the time the new image I had adopted had taken a stranglehold on Europe, I was fast becoming the hottest property and one of the biggest draws on that continent. No, even the great George Kid could not ignore me.
My first match against George Kid was a non-title match held in Nottingham Ice Rink. George, as a true lightweight, weighed in at 147 pounds, and I weighed 165 pounds. It’s took me only seven minutes to defeat the great George Kid with two consecutive submissions. George was taken to Nottingham Infirmary whilst I challenged him to a rematch for his World Lightweight Title. I couldn’t wait. Wow! I was going to be the youngest world champion in history! George Kid had other ideas, and I was defeated and 12 rounds in our return match. Our rivalry, or should I say, feud, lasted for years. George could rarely beat me in non-title matches, when I may have outweighed him by as much as 20 pounds and I never, ever managed to beat George get a title match, when I had to make his weight. We have continued to hate each other with the same intensity we carried with us into our historical ring encounters, but I shall be eternally grateful to George Kid for the great amount I learned from him as probably my most ardent antagonist and eternally proud of myself for holding my own, even in defeat, against the great George Kid.
I won the European Heavyweight Title 5 times and was never defeated for it in a title match. How is that possible, you may ask? Surely, if I want the title 5 times, I must have been defeated at least 4 times in order to be able to win it back. Well, no. I would have to relinquish the title if I wrestled outside the European area for any one extended period, with the condition that I would get first crack at the title. Any time I would return to Europe, for an extended period, and I was in great demand over most of the world. I eventually relinquished the title five times. I still own an honorary European Title belt that was present it to me to keep for all time, as recognition to an undefeated champion.
Unfortunately, great success sometimes breeds despondency, and I began to despair of anything I could accomplish in the sport that I hadn’t already accomplished. Just like Alexander the Great, I needed new worlds to conquer, so where else would I set my sights, than the New World?
Linda and I left great Britain for Canada on my daughter, Amanda’s 14th birthday, May 11th, 1981. We wrestled for Stampede Wrestling in Calgary for a few months, but found it no challenge whatsoever. I received an offer to attend the German tournaments in Hanover, that was too good to refuse, so my quest for the New World was delayed until the German tournament was complete and we returned to Canada with a gold cup. I was awarded, as the best attraction in the 1981 Hanover tournament and immediately flew from Canada to Mexico City.
Linda first became my valet in Canada. We dropped her “Blackfoot Sioux” gimmick, as we realized, there were plenty of real Red Indians in that neck of the woods. We changed her name to Angel Dust and then changed it again to Miss Linda when we arrived in Mexico.
Lucha Libre was definitely an eye-opener! Anything I saw in the Mexican rings that even remotely resembled wrestling was purely coincidental. I thought that I could probably stroll back to the dressing room, touch up my make up and brush my hair, whilst by masked opponent was still hovering somewhere in mid air, and still have time to stroll back, catch him and beat him the second he re-entered the earth’s atmosphere. Damn! They have a silly style.
The only serious competition I got in Mexico was from great stars like Mil Mascaras, his brother, Dos Caras, Hector Guerrero, Dory Dixon, and “Gentleman” Chris Adams. They were the only wrestlers in Mexico, who had any defense at all against my devastating style. No! Correction; they were the only wrestlers in Mexico!
When Linda and I first arrived in Mexico, I weighed well over 200 pounds. By the time we got a call from Mike LeBell, the Hollywood wrestling promoter, I weighed 176 pounds. We didn’t get sick in Mexico. We just didn’t like the food.
Never mind we were going to wrestle in the land of all my old wrestling heroes, the land of flamboyant giants, where the fans understand and appreciate the colorful, violent, larger than life, super athletes of the ring… USA, here we come!
America, I must admit, had a humongous influence on me as a professional wrestler, even before I ever had my first match. But, I must claim that no one, and I do mean no one, influenced professional wrestling in the USA as much in those days, as I did!
When Linda and I arrived in Los Angeles, January 31st, 1982, I was 5’7” weighed 176lbs, and was already 41 years of age, and if you don’t agree that I made an enormous impression on wrestling in the USA over the next few years, then I guess you’ve been living under a rock, or had one bounced off your head a few times.
Before I came to the States, no one was wearing face paint, no one was wearing spandex, and no one at that time was entering the ring with the lady valet. Nowadays, All of these things are common place in pro wrestling, and everyone of them are copying us.
We loved LA, where weird is normal and Linda and I fitted in better than OJ’s gloves. The Olympic Auditorium had been closed for years. It took Mike LeBell just one week to realize that he needed to reopen it because we were the draws he’d been dreaming of. First, I took the Americas Heavyweight Title, then I took the Americas Tag Team Titles from Ringo Rigby and his partner, “Gentleman” Chris Adams on my own. That’s right, on my own, no tag partner! And that’s the way I defended it until the powers that be insisted that I had to choose a tag partner.
I didn’t want one, as I knew I could do better by relying on no one but myself, but as they insisted, I chose the worst wrestler I could possibly find. In fact, I can’t even remember his name. That way, everyone knew it was still me and me alone I was defending my three belts.
It was called “The Battle of the Undefeated.” No one had ever beaten Mul Mascaras in the Olympic Auditorium and no one had ever beaten me. The Auditorium was packed. Mil was magnificent, but I was well on the way to defeating him when my stupid tag partner (who shall remain nameless) jumped in the ring, causing my disqualification. I had the satisfaction of beating seven different shades of crap out of the idiot, and dissolving our partnership. I still can’t remember his name, but if you look up the word “stupid” in the dictionary, you’ll find his photograph.
I felt a little consoled when Mike LeBell told me after the match [that] the last time a match drew as many people as we drew that night was back in the 50s, when Lou Thesz defended his World Title against Baron Michele Leone.
I demanded a rematch but Mil head prior commitments and by the time he was free to fight again, I had to honor a commitment myself and fly back to Europe to wrestle in the 1982 Hanover tournament, where I was once again awarded the gold cup as the best attraction of the tournament.
After a brief stay in London, we were soon headed back to the States, this time in Tennessee, just in time to become the first wrestlers in Jim Cornette’s original dynasty, with Apocalypse and Jesse Barr.
Next, we lived in Tampa, Florida, where Dusty Rhodes grinned at me after the first time he saw me wrestle and said “Betht f—- gimmick I ever thaw! Thankth!” I thaid, “Damn, he’s got me talking like that now. Why didn’t I think of that when I first started being “exotic?” As he was grinning away, I thought, looking at him, he’s got so many chins, he looks like he’s grinning at me over a plate of pancakes.
His son, Dustin, must have thought it was the best f—- gimmick he’d ever seen, also, as after watching his father, Dusty, and me battle it out dozens of times in the ring, must have been a lot more impressed with my style than his father’s! Excellent taste, that kid!
I won the Florida Title from Scott McGee, defended it against Dusty, Barry Windham, Brad Armstrong, “King Kong” Angelo Mosca, “Magnum PI” Terry Allen, Bobby Duncum, Les Thornton, and many others, before moving on to San Antonio, Texas. I won the Texas Title belt [and defended] it against Al Perez, Eric Embry, Manny Fernandez, Scott, Casey, “The Heartbreak Kid” Shawn Michaels, and many more.
We then got a call from one of my best friends in the business, Dory Funk, Jr, to come over to Charlotte, North Carolina to wrestle for the NWA (before it became the WCW).
They were great to wrestle for. We made so much money, it felt illegal, and all for doing what I like best. The competition was also great. I feuded with “Handsome” Jimmy Valiant, Chief Wahoo McDaniel, Kamala, The Assassins, Ricky Steamboat, and lots more.
Next was MidSouth, so we moved to Louisiana. My first TV match. Was for the World TV Title [editor’s note: MidSouth TV Title] against champion Terry Taylor. Terry Taylor has successfully defended that title against Steve “Dr. Death” Williams, “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan, “Hacksaw” Butch Reed, Ted DiBiase, “Hercules” Ray Hernandez, as well as a host of other uglies, and was considered unbeatable, until I happened to him. I relieved him of his title in eight minutes with a big kiss and shoulder press delivered before the shock evaporated. And in spite of popular belief, I did not stick my tongue 2 feet down his throat to win that match. That’s the truth. Wrestler’s honor!
Back to Tennessee and the feud of the 80s with the “Macho Man” Randy Savage.
People often ask me who was my toughest opponent. Well, after George Kid, Bret Hart was hard to beat. So was Davey Boy Smith, but I guess I would have to say “Macho Man” Randy Savage. It must have taken me all of 15 minutes to massacre him, so he has to be tough.
The real trouble started when, one night, he grabbed Miss Linda, pulled her into the ring and attempted to piledrive her. Well, I don’t care whatever anyone does to me in the ring. I had a bully of a brother, who was six years older than I was, who beat me up on a regular basis until I was about 15 years old and he couldn’t do it and get away with it anymore; so no one is likely to be capable of doing anything to me I haven’t had done before. But, nobody touches Linda.
Now, I have so many ways to hurt my opponent [that] he has to invent new ways to scream, and that night was definitely no exception. At first, when I tied his head in the ropes and began to beat on him, his screams put me in mind of the mating call of a Chelsea pensioner. Then, as I crashed his skull repeatedly into the corner post, it sounded just like George Bush being forced fed steamed broccoli by Barbara wearing a see-through plastic mack and stiletto heeled thigh high boots. Wow! We do have fun. I was accused of striking him with a foreign object. I explained, “How could I hit him with anything else? I AM a foreign object!”
The last time I spoke to Randy, he told me he was going to wrestle for the WWF and was going to copy my gimmick. Not the effeminate bit, he explained, just the fancy wardrobe and a lady valet named Miss Elizabeth.
He also said he would probably be touring Britain with them and asked me how I thought the fans over there might receive him, after being used to my own image. I told him I thought the name Savage was very appropriate, because that is what he is, and I added that in Britain, the word, “Randy” describes a state of excitement, which I suppose, could be even more appropriate.
Even though Vince McMahon has “borrowed” an awful lot of my character for his wrestlers over the years, I still think he’s a genius at creating characters and would put him right up there with Barnum & Bailey, Warner Brothers, and Walt Disney.
Is Randy got a call from New York, I got one from Pensacola. I was very interested in wrestling there, as I had bought five properties in Gulf Breeze a few years before and thought it might be nice to live in a house of my own for a while instead of renting apartments or hotels all over the States. We were just about to leave Tennessee for Gulf Breeze, Florida, when I decided to bring my three children, Adrian Jr, Vincent, and Amanda, over to Los Angeles and Las Vegas for a holiday before I started wrestling in earnest for Southeastern Championship Wrestling. Well, that few weeks in Los Angeles lead to a video and record deal with Rhino Records and a major role in “Grunt” the wrestling movie, which also contains three of the songs I wrote and performed from my first album “Shake Wrestle ‘N’ Roll.”
Well, holiday over, we arrive in Gulf Breeze, Pensacola. My first match is for the Southeastern Heavyweight Title, held by the undefeatable legend in his own mind, world famous (in Alabama), living heartthrob, Austin Idol. It took me just five minutes, six seconds to beat the unbeatable and relieve him of the title he claimed he’d take to his grave. He didn’t know how close he came.
Even though I beat him with pure wrestling skill (something he would not recognize) he claimed I was nothing but a street fighter. Even though that is not true, I don’t mind pleading guilty. Street fighting, in my opinion, is the most lethal form of combat and if there is one thing I can do better than wrestling, it’s street fighting. No wonder they named it after me. Street’s my name, street fighting’s my game! Remember! It doesn’t matter how you win, as long as you cheat.
I won the Southeastern Title four times. At least, that’s what I read on the internet lately. I can’t remember, but who am I to argue? The Phan’s know best.
The grudge matches I had in the Southeastern territory included Norvell, Austin, Terry Garvin, and “Wildcat” Wendell Cooley. The “Wildcat” hated me for calling him Gwendolyn Cuddly. He was as strong as an ox and, twice as smart, he didn’t know the meaning of the word fear. Mind you, he didn’t know the meaning of a lot of other words either.
Since we began living in Gulf Breeze, we don’t like traveling anywhere anymore, for an extended period. We love Gulf Breeze! I have been tempted away as far as Japan, since we began to grow roots, but only because they always pay me five figures for one shot.
Another reason we don’t like to travel anymore is the fact that most of my business interests are close at hand: realty, Bizarre Bazaar, The World’s Best Wrestling Wear, Skull Krushers Wrestling School, the incubator of future champions and superstars, and our art studios, we’re masterpieces of a less physical kind are created. It was observed by one of the reporters interviewing us recently, at an art gallery that was featuring Linda’s and my artwork, that he thought it highly unusual for such a rough, tough individuals as ourselves to be producing such a delicate and attractive works of art. “Not really,” I explained. “Since I was a kid of 16, I have been taking ugly wrestlers and beating them until they were beautiful.” Looking around the wrestling world at the moment, it seems I might have my work cut out for me for sometime to come.
Whilst in this area, I have won numerous title belts for various independent promotions, including the World Heavyweight Universal Championship (that has since gone belly up in the wake of the Big Two).
I received an offer from the WWF’s to manage a texting from Britain. They were going to be called “The British Skinheads.” I declined, as I have never been a racist in over 40 years as a professional wrestler, and would not compromise my reputation at this time in my career to pose as one now.
As I stated at the beginning of this article, I had my first pro match in 1957 and have somewhere in the region of 12,000 to 15,000 pro matches behind me. As a result of being a household name all over the world, I have appeared in more than a dozen movies, including Pasolini’s “Canterbury Tales,” “A Drink Out Of The Bottle,” “Rewind,” “Quest For Fire,” and “Grunt” the wrestling movie; plus lots of TV variety shows with Freddie Star, Rolf Harris, Lulu, Dana, Russell Hartey, Carol Baker, Eamon Andrews, Frankie Lane, and lots more both in Britain and Japan. And my father told me, when I was still in school, that if the coal mine was good enough for him, it was good enough for me. Thank goodness I didn’t agree with him. I don’t think Adrian Street the “ Coal Miner” would have accomplished as much as Adrian Street “The Wrestler.” I don’t know of another wrestler, who is still active today, who has wrestled as a lightweight welterweight, a middleweight, a light, heavy weight, and a heavy weight. I’ve wrestled excellent wrestlers who probably tipped the scales at less than 120 pounds right up to the behemoths that would break the scales with a body weight of 470 pounds or more.
What’s left to accomplish for the wrestler who’s done it all?
Two things. First, to see my student wrestlers, becoming the biggest stars in pro wrestling, and second, for me to Russell at least once after the year 2000. That way, I can say I’ve wrestled in six different decades. 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s and 10s. Two different centuries, 20th and 21st. And two different millenniums, 1000 and 2000. There’s not going to be too many wrestlers still wrestling who can claim to equal that!
I didn’t always want to be a wrestler. Not until I was about 9 years old anyway. Before that, in between dodging Hitler’s bombs, I wanted to be a red Indian chief. So even at that age, I wore feathers in my hair and painted my face with the most garish colors I could find in my paint box.
I was appalled when I saw a movie in which Chief Yellowhand was killed, in a hand to hand fight with Buffalo Bill Cody and I swore that no paleface, or any other kind of face [especially a baby face] would ever beat me.
I wanted to fight or wrestle everyone I met and, considering the fact that I was born and grew up in a rough, tough mining town, I had an endless supply of roughnecks to practice on.
I passed my scholarship to Bryn Mawr Grammar School on my first try, but I got expelled 2 years later, as I hated school and still preferred fighting to doing homework. I left school at the age of 15 and began work in Beynons Colliery with my father and older brother. I hated it! In the winter, the only time I saw daylight was on a Sunday. To hell with this crap! When I was 16 years old, I left home and went to live in London. I knew I was very good at hurting people - I could beat everyone at school - I could beat everyone in the coal mine - so why not get paid for it? I was going to be the best fighter in the world! I was going to be a professional wrestler!
I had been lifting weights since I was about 12 years of age. At 5’7” I had built myself up to 179 lbs by the time I reached London.
At first, I worked in a nut and bolt factory, then with the Greyhounds at Wembley Stadium, then the railway, then digging holes in the road for the waterboard. I hated it! I decided that J.O.B. stood for “just over broke” and it was just not my style. I quit work and I’ve never worked for anyone since. I subsidized posing for bodybuilding magazines with boxing on a fairground booth and sometimes boxed as many as 7 times in one day so I could raise enough money to be a wrestler without any other distractions.
I became addicted to wrestling and weightlifting. I did both eleven times a week. In fact, I trained so hard, although I was trying to gain weight, I dropped from 179 lbs to 144 lbs. I was still very strong (I was 154 lbs and 168 lbs weightlifting champion of London’s Foresters Club). I realized I needed to gain back some weight.
My first pro match was in the Addington Hotel, in New Addington, London, August 8th, 1957. I was still 16 and had [gotten] my weight up to 150 lbs. I assumed the name of “Kid Tarzan Jonathan” (after my wrestling idol of the period, the “Mormon Giant” Don Leo Jonathan). My first opponent was “Gentleman” Geoff Moran and we were main event. Not bad for my first match! I was so excited walking to the ring for the first time, I couldn’t feel my feet touching the ground. My opponent had quite a big reputation in the independent wrestling circle, so the fans there that night were absolutely stunned when the bell rang and I immediately rushed across the ring and I attacked my opponent with the ferocity of a rabid wolverine. I won the match in less than 2 minutes by dislocating my opponent’s shoulder. I strutted back to the dressing room as though I owned the place, I could hardly wait to get the reaction of the promoter and the other wrestlers on the card.
“I think I’m ready for my first championship match,” I shouted at the promoter as I burst back into the dressing room. “What did you think of my match?” The promoter’s face was purple. “What the f- do you think you were doing out there?” He screamed. “Do you think the fans are going to be happy, paying good money to watch a main event match that lasts only 2 f’ng minutes?”
Oops. Oh well. How embarrassing. I felt completely deflated as I sat dejected in the corner, suffering looks of disgust and derision from everyone in the dressing room.
About an hour later, the promoter came up to me, and instead of hitting me with a chair, said, in an amazingly calm voice, “ You’re gonna have to help me out kid. Gentlemen Geoff’s wife just called me from the hospital. She says he’s not going to be able to wrestle for a while and I’ve got him billed in main event matches all over the south of England. You f’d him up. You’re gonna have to take his place.”
“You can count on me,” I replied, gallantly. “Yeah, right,” he said, eyeing me, as though I was something he just scraped off his shoe. “And try not to cripple any more of your opponents “he growled “but if you have to, make sure it takes you at least 20 to 30 minutes to do it,” he added big heartedly. Boy, isn’t wrestling great?
I worked the independent wrestling circuit for the next three years, collecting the Welsh Welterweight Title [along] the way and learning shoot wrestling from Junior World Heavyweight Champion Mike Dimetri. I was billed as the youngest in the world, for a while, until an excellent young named Leon Fortuna came along, and usurped mean by a few months.
Ever since I first arrived in London, I kept bugging “Dale Martin’s, The World’s Biggest Wrestling Promotions” to give me a chance to show them what I got. They kept sending me away, saying I was young; I needed more experience, more size, and to come back in a few years, when I’d grow up. Every few weeks I’d go back and try again, just to be told the same thing. I’d began to despair of ever wrestling for Dale Martin’s when I received an offer to go to Rome and appear in the gladiator/barbarian movies, that the great American bodybuilder, Steve Reeves was making famous at that time. I was just about to leave Britain for Italy when I got a letter from Dale Martin’s with the offer of eight matches for the month of August 1960. I now have to decide if I wanted to be a film star or a wrestler. Well, I guess you know by now which one I chose!
Dale Martin’s gave me 12 more matches in the month of September and after that it was very rare for me to Russell less than 30 times a month. Yippee! I’d arrived. When I told them I wanted to show them what I’d got, they certainly took me at my word. My premier outing saw me in the main event at Weymouth, wrestling against “Mr. TV” Jackie Pallo, one of the biggest names in my weight division at that time. Next was Alan Colbeck, European Middleweight Champion and third was Melvin Riss, British Lightweight Champion, Josef Ski, Middleweight Champion of Poland, Tony Scarlo of Italy, Johnny Kwango and Masambula, both of West Africa, Leon Fortuna from Tonga, Stefan Milla of Denmark, Mick McManus, “Ironman” Steve Logan, “Bombastic” Billy Stock, and “Bad Boy” Bobby Barnes of London, the Cortez Brothers, Jon and Peter of Spain; the Borg Twins of Malta, Alan Miquet and Julien Morice of France were all amongst my early opponents. These names may not be very recognizable to my American fans, but believe me, each one of the above mentioned, were better wrestlers than anything I’ve ever seen in the USA.
The first thing I was told by Dale Martin’s was that they didn’t like my wrestling name, Kid Tarzan Jonathan and the second was that they would not recognize the Welsh Welterweight Title I had won on the independent circuit. I decided to use my real name, which is Adrian Street, and demanded a shot at the Welsh Lightweight Title held by Welsh Champion, Cardiff’s Johnny Williams. I won the Welsh Lightweight Title in the Colson Hall [in] Bristol, in seven rounds, and Dale Martin’s began billing me as “Nature Boy” Adrian Street as result of the huge amount of walking I did as part of my preparation for my title match.
Ric Flair likes to claim that he has the greatest right to use the name “Nature Boy,”but I was wrestling all over Europe billed as the “Nature Boy” about 12 years before Ric Flair was even a pro wrestler. Talking about Ric Flair, who has won the NWA/WCW version of the world heavyweight title umpteen different times; I have 15 different world titles, three of them different weight divisions. Even Ric Flair has never done that! Boy, am I great!
Well, I am now, but it didn’t happen overnight. When I first began wrestling for Dale Martin’s, the only time I would wrestle in a main event contest was if I was wrestling a big name main event wrestler. If not, then my match might just be a preliminary. Not a very happy situation for someone with an ego like mine to satisfy.
When I first became interested in professional wrestling as a kid, I got all my information about the sport from the American boxing and wrestling magazines long before I’d ever seen a live wrestling match. Flamboyant American wrestlers like “Nature Boy” Buddy Rogers, Gene and Steve Stanlee, Dr. Jerry Graham, Chief Don Eagle, Don Leo Jonathan, Yukon Eric, Argentina Rocca, Jim Londos the Golden Greek, Bobo Brazil, just to name a few, really inspired me. So when I saw my first live wrestling matches in Britain, I must say I was more than a little disappointed with the lack of color and showmanship displayed by the wrestlers. Now please, don’t get me wrong, I still maintain that British wrestlers are the best wrestlers I have ever seen. But! No color, very little imagination, and the flamboyance, as compared to the American counterparts was almost nonexistent. I decided to combine both.
First, I bleached my hair blonde. Then, I invested in a baby blue velvet robe with a silver lining, baby blue matching trunks, and baby blue matching boots. I weighed 165 pounds with a 48 inch chest, 27 inch waist, and a great suntan. I looked fantastic!
I would stride from the dressing room to the ring, and the fans would gasp with delight and amazement at the site of the image of the super athlete I had become. Yeah, right! I was in for a bigger surprise than the fans were. Instead of thunderous cheers of admiration and approval my image would inspire, all it provoked was deafening wolf whistles and masculine voices assuming effeminate shrieks of things like “See you after the show Mary,” and “Oh, isn’t she pretty!” I was shocked and horrified. There was no way that I was going to let all those fans see how disappointed I was with their response to my new image, so instead of becoming indignant, or appearing crestfallen, I began to blow kisses at the most offensive of my critics (much to their embarrassment) and my stride evolved into a graceful skip as I continued into and around the ring. “Right, you bastards,” I thought. “If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.” I grabbed the ref and gave him a great smacking kiss, followed by a gentle pat on the ass to help him on his way. The crowd exploded! “Good! “I thought, as I checked my fingernails and fussed with my hair. Now you lot know what it feels like to be shocked and horrified. My opponent’s facial expression wasn’t lost on me either, as I pouted my lips seductively in his direction. He looked like he would have been happier in a third rate hotel in Arkansas with a toothache.
The match began and I continued in the same vein. I was driven with spite and I decided to punish everyone present for their unappreciative response to my efforts to entertain them. If Darwin’s theory of evolution holds any merit, I thought disgustedly maybe these Neanderthals will understand what I was attempting to do in another million years.
Well, that’s how the image of “Exotic” Adrian Street got started. I didn’t get the kind of reaction from the fans I expected, but I had never seen any other wrestler get so much reaction before. I took stock of the situation and decided who gives a F what kind of reaction it was, I want more of it! So that’s how the butchiest of the butch became a transvestite.
I wore a very small amount of facial make up at first, but it gradually became more garish, the hair longer, and the gowns more outlandish. Every time I appeared on TV, I wore a new and more elaborate gown. It became a standard joke with many of the other wrestlers of that period who used to quip, “Is that another gown?” “Yes, of course,” I’d reply. “Huh” they’d retort. “Adrian Street won’t have any money left by the time he’s finished with wrestling, but he’ll sure have some gowns, ha ha ha!” What they didn’t seem to realize is, when you’re main event every night, you can afford to spend money on great gear and, in my opinion, I never saw a star who didn’t dress like one.
An unexpected bonus came out of my designing, fabulous costumes, as I also began to design clothes for “Carnaby Cavern” in London’s Carnaby Street and “Granny Takes A Trip” in Kings Road, Chelsea. Many of my creations have been worn by stars like Marc Bolan, David Bowie, Adam Ant, Gary Glitter, and Elton John, just to name a few. But the best bonus of all is the fact that my wife, Linda and I own Bizarre Bazaar, The World’s Best Wrestling Wear, were you don’t have to pay an arm, or leg, for the best wrestling gear on the planet. Which is just as well, ‘cause unless you have a gimmick that is stranger than mine, you’ll need your arms and legs for wrestling. Talking about wrestling, let’s get back to it.
Just prior to me, becoming the all-time greatest queen bitch of pro wrestling, the tag team epidemic set in the UK. My first regular tag partner was the great fellow Welsh wrestler, Tony Charles. We wrestled as the Welsh Wizards, and as our titles suggests we were magic, but when my new image emerged, it proved to be too big, a contrast of styles. Plus, the Welsh Wizards were good guys, and, after my metamorphosis, the fans didn’t only hate my guts, they also loathed my liver. I was now on the lookout for a partner who complemented my new image and “Bad Boy” Bobby Barnes was perfect! He became “Beautiful” Bobby Barnes. We became the “Hell’s Angels” and the rest is history. History most violent, and remember, “violence is golden.” We beat everybody, in and out of the ring. We soon became the European Tag Team Champions and defended our titles all over Malta, Britain, Belgium, France, and Spain.
Not long after my return to Britain from Spain in 1968, I became very interested in Marine tropical fish, as I found that some of them were almost as “exotic” as me. I used to purchase my collection. From a beautiful lady named Linda, and we’ve been together now since 1969.
In 1973, Linda got it into her head that she wanted to become a professional wrestler. Dale Martin’s would not employ female wrestlers, so I left them and joined “The Ogre of North Wales” Orig Williams, who was promoting “The British Wrestling Federation.” Orig had a stable, and I do mean stable, other, very rough, tough girls. Linda became a very proficient student and I would definitely put her on par with some of my other top students, such as Mick, Foley, Fit Finlay, Lord Steven Regal, Belgium’s Bernard Van Damme, and “Awesome” Al Savage.
My love of native Americans influenced Linda’s wrestling image, and she wrestled as “Blackfoot Sioux” for the first eight years of her wrestling career. Blackfoot Sioux would sometimes team up with “Red Indian” Johnny War Eagle for mixed tag, team matches, but, as my tag partner, we won the world mixed tag team championship from Poland’s Don Kovacs and his partner, “Saucy” Suzie Parker in Germany. We defended the world title in Germany, the Canary Islands, Malta, France, all over Africa, Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, the Seychelles, Britain, Canada, Mexico, and the USA; and we have never been defeated. That, by the way, is far more impressive than claiming to have won a title umpteen different times.
By this time, I had already won the European Middleweight Title and the European Light Heavyweight Title. Soon after I won the World Middleweight Title in Lusaka, Zambia, the only time I ever lost the Middleweight Title was not in the ring, but at the table, as I was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain my bodyweight. I regained the world title in a middleweight tournament held in Liverpool Stadium defeating great stars like Ricky Starr, The Amazing American Ballet Dancer, Ian Gilmore of Scotland, Mick McMichael of Yorkshire, and Jon Cortez of Spain. I relinquished the title with pleasure soon after, defeated by my enormous appetite, and probably one of the World Light Heavyweight Title, also in Lusaka, Zambia.
My story would not be complete without the mention of George Kid, the Lightweight Champion of the World, and, in my not very humble opinion, one of the best wrestlers ever to step into the ring.
The story started way back in the time when I had just won the Welsh Lightweight Title and I was hungry for more lightweight glory. I was introduced to George Kid and we instantly despised each other with a passion. At first, he flatly refused to give me a title shot, stating “Maybe with merit, but compared to him, I was a nobody… and George Kid didn’t become the lightweight king of wrestling by wrestling the likes of me.” But, by the time the new image I had adopted had taken a stranglehold on Europe, I was fast becoming the hottest property and one of the biggest draws on that continent. No, even the great George Kid could not ignore me.
My first match against George Kid was a non-title match held in Nottingham Ice Rink. George, as a true lightweight, weighed in at 147 pounds, and I weighed 165 pounds. It’s took me only seven minutes to defeat the great George Kid with two consecutive submissions. George was taken to Nottingham Infirmary whilst I challenged him to a rematch for his World Lightweight Title. I couldn’t wait. Wow! I was going to be the youngest world champion in history! George Kid had other ideas, and I was defeated and 12 rounds in our return match. Our rivalry, or should I say, feud, lasted for years. George could rarely beat me in non-title matches, when I may have outweighed him by as much as 20 pounds and I never, ever managed to beat George get a title match, when I had to make his weight. We have continued to hate each other with the same intensity we carried with us into our historical ring encounters, but I shall be eternally grateful to George Kid for the great amount I learned from him as probably my most ardent antagonist and eternally proud of myself for holding my own, even in defeat, against the great George Kid.
I won the European Heavyweight Title 5 times and was never defeated for it in a title match. How is that possible, you may ask? Surely, if I want the title 5 times, I must have been defeated at least 4 times in order to be able to win it back. Well, no. I would have to relinquish the title if I wrestled outside the European area for any one extended period, with the condition that I would get first crack at the title. Any time I would return to Europe, for an extended period, and I was in great demand over most of the world. I eventually relinquished the title five times. I still own an honorary European Title belt that was present it to me to keep for all time, as recognition to an undefeated champion.
Unfortunately, great success sometimes breeds despondency, and I began to despair of anything I could accomplish in the sport that I hadn’t already accomplished. Just like Alexander the Great, I needed new worlds to conquer, so where else would I set my sights, than the New World?
Linda and I left great Britain for Canada on my daughter, Amanda’s 14th birthday, May 11th, 1981. We wrestled for Stampede Wrestling in Calgary for a few months, but found it no challenge whatsoever. I received an offer to attend the German tournaments in Hanover, that was too good to refuse, so my quest for the New World was delayed until the German tournament was complete and we returned to Canada with a gold cup. I was awarded, as the best attraction in the 1981 Hanover tournament and immediately flew from Canada to Mexico City.
Linda first became my valet in Canada. We dropped her “Blackfoot Sioux” gimmick, as we realized, there were plenty of real Red Indians in that neck of the woods. We changed her name to Angel Dust and then changed it again to Miss Linda when we arrived in Mexico.
Lucha Libre was definitely an eye-opener! Anything I saw in the Mexican rings that even remotely resembled wrestling was purely coincidental. I thought that I could probably stroll back to the dressing room, touch up my make up and brush my hair, whilst by masked opponent was still hovering somewhere in mid air, and still have time to stroll back, catch him and beat him the second he re-entered the earth’s atmosphere. Damn! They have a silly style.
The only serious competition I got in Mexico was from great stars like Mil Mascaras, his brother, Dos Caras, Hector Guerrero, Dory Dixon, and “Gentleman” Chris Adams. They were the only wrestlers in Mexico, who had any defense at all against my devastating style. No! Correction; they were the only wrestlers in Mexico!
When Linda and I first arrived in Mexico, I weighed well over 200 pounds. By the time we got a call from Mike LeBell, the Hollywood wrestling promoter, I weighed 176 pounds. We didn’t get sick in Mexico. We just didn’t like the food.
Never mind we were going to wrestle in the land of all my old wrestling heroes, the land of flamboyant giants, where the fans understand and appreciate the colorful, violent, larger than life, super athletes of the ring… USA, here we come!
America, I must admit, had a humongous influence on me as a professional wrestler, even before I ever had my first match. But, I must claim that no one, and I do mean no one, influenced professional wrestling in the USA as much in those days, as I did!
When Linda and I arrived in Los Angeles, January 31st, 1982, I was 5’7” weighed 176lbs, and was already 41 years of age, and if you don’t agree that I made an enormous impression on wrestling in the USA over the next few years, then I guess you’ve been living under a rock, or had one bounced off your head a few times.
Before I came to the States, no one was wearing face paint, no one was wearing spandex, and no one at that time was entering the ring with the lady valet. Nowadays, All of these things are common place in pro wrestling, and everyone of them are copying us.
We loved LA, where weird is normal and Linda and I fitted in better than OJ’s gloves. The Olympic Auditorium had been closed for years. It took Mike LeBell just one week to realize that he needed to reopen it because we were the draws he’d been dreaming of. First, I took the Americas Heavyweight Title, then I took the Americas Tag Team Titles from Ringo Rigby and his partner, “Gentleman” Chris Adams on my own. That’s right, on my own, no tag partner! And that’s the way I defended it until the powers that be insisted that I had to choose a tag partner.
I didn’t want one, as I knew I could do better by relying on no one but myself, but as they insisted, I chose the worst wrestler I could possibly find. In fact, I can’t even remember his name. That way, everyone knew it was still me and me alone I was defending my three belts.
It was called “The Battle of the Undefeated.” No one had ever beaten Mul Mascaras in the Olympic Auditorium and no one had ever beaten me. The Auditorium was packed. Mil was magnificent, but I was well on the way to defeating him when my stupid tag partner (who shall remain nameless) jumped in the ring, causing my disqualification. I had the satisfaction of beating seven different shades of crap out of the idiot, and dissolving our partnership. I still can’t remember his name, but if you look up the word “stupid” in the dictionary, you’ll find his photograph.
I felt a little consoled when Mike LeBell told me after the match [that] the last time a match drew as many people as we drew that night was back in the 50s, when Lou Thesz defended his World Title against Baron Michele Leone.
I demanded a rematch but Mil head prior commitments and by the time he was free to fight again, I had to honor a commitment myself and fly back to Europe to wrestle in the 1982 Hanover tournament, where I was once again awarded the gold cup as the best attraction of the tournament.
After a brief stay in London, we were soon headed back to the States, this time in Tennessee, just in time to become the first wrestlers in Jim Cornette’s original dynasty, with Apocalypse and Jesse Barr.
Next, we lived in Tampa, Florida, where Dusty Rhodes grinned at me after the first time he saw me wrestle and said “Betht f—- gimmick I ever thaw! Thankth!” I thaid, “Damn, he’s got me talking like that now. Why didn’t I think of that when I first started being “exotic?” As he was grinning away, I thought, looking at him, he’s got so many chins, he looks like he’s grinning at me over a plate of pancakes.
His son, Dustin, must have thought it was the best f—- gimmick he’d ever seen, also, as after watching his father, Dusty, and me battle it out dozens of times in the ring, must have been a lot more impressed with my style than his father’s! Excellent taste, that kid!
I won the Florida Title from Scott McGee, defended it against Dusty, Barry Windham, Brad Armstrong, “King Kong” Angelo Mosca, “Magnum PI” Terry Allen, Bobby Duncum, Les Thornton, and many others, before moving on to San Antonio, Texas. I won the Texas Title belt [and defended] it against Al Perez, Eric Embry, Manny Fernandez, Scott, Casey, “The Heartbreak Kid” Shawn Michaels, and many more.
We then got a call from one of my best friends in the business, Dory Funk, Jr, to come over to Charlotte, North Carolina to wrestle for the NWA (before it became the WCW).
They were great to wrestle for. We made so much money, it felt illegal, and all for doing what I like best. The competition was also great. I feuded with “Handsome” Jimmy Valiant, Chief Wahoo McDaniel, Kamala, The Assassins, Ricky Steamboat, and lots more.
Next was MidSouth, so we moved to Louisiana. My first TV match. Was for the World TV Title [editor’s note: MidSouth TV Title] against champion Terry Taylor. Terry Taylor has successfully defended that title against Steve “Dr. Death” Williams, “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan, “Hacksaw” Butch Reed, Ted DiBiase, “Hercules” Ray Hernandez, as well as a host of other uglies, and was considered unbeatable, until I happened to him. I relieved him of his title in eight minutes with a big kiss and shoulder press delivered before the shock evaporated. And in spite of popular belief, I did not stick my tongue 2 feet down his throat to win that match. That’s the truth. Wrestler’s honor!
Back to Tennessee and the feud of the 80s with the “Macho Man” Randy Savage.
People often ask me who was my toughest opponent. Well, after George Kid, Bret Hart was hard to beat. So was Davey Boy Smith, but I guess I would have to say “Macho Man” Randy Savage. It must have taken me all of 15 minutes to massacre him, so he has to be tough.
The real trouble started when, one night, he grabbed Miss Linda, pulled her into the ring and attempted to piledrive her. Well, I don’t care whatever anyone does to me in the ring. I had a bully of a brother, who was six years older than I was, who beat me up on a regular basis until I was about 15 years old and he couldn’t do it and get away with it anymore; so no one is likely to be capable of doing anything to me I haven’t had done before. But, nobody touches Linda.
Now, I have so many ways to hurt my opponent [that] he has to invent new ways to scream, and that night was definitely no exception. At first, when I tied his head in the ropes and began to beat on him, his screams put me in mind of the mating call of a Chelsea pensioner. Then, as I crashed his skull repeatedly into the corner post, it sounded just like George Bush being forced fed steamed broccoli by Barbara wearing a see-through plastic mack and stiletto heeled thigh high boots. Wow! We do have fun. I was accused of striking him with a foreign object. I explained, “How could I hit him with anything else? I AM a foreign object!”
The last time I spoke to Randy, he told me he was going to wrestle for the WWF and was going to copy my gimmick. Not the effeminate bit, he explained, just the fancy wardrobe and a lady valet named Miss Elizabeth.
He also said he would probably be touring Britain with them and asked me how I thought the fans over there might receive him, after being used to my own image. I told him I thought the name Savage was very appropriate, because that is what he is, and I added that in Britain, the word, “Randy” describes a state of excitement, which I suppose, could be even more appropriate.
Even though Vince McMahon has “borrowed” an awful lot of my character for his wrestlers over the years, I still think he’s a genius at creating characters and would put him right up there with Barnum & Bailey, Warner Brothers, and Walt Disney.
Is Randy got a call from New York, I got one from Pensacola. I was very interested in wrestling there, as I had bought five properties in Gulf Breeze a few years before and thought it might be nice to live in a house of my own for a while instead of renting apartments or hotels all over the States. We were just about to leave Tennessee for Gulf Breeze, Florida, when I decided to bring my three children, Adrian Jr, Vincent, and Amanda, over to Los Angeles and Las Vegas for a holiday before I started wrestling in earnest for Southeastern Championship Wrestling. Well, that few weeks in Los Angeles lead to a video and record deal with Rhino Records and a major role in “Grunt” the wrestling movie, which also contains three of the songs I wrote and performed from my first album “Shake Wrestle ‘N’ Roll.”
Well, holiday over, we arrive in Gulf Breeze, Pensacola. My first match is for the Southeastern Heavyweight Title, held by the undefeatable legend in his own mind, world famous (in Alabama), living heartthrob, Austin Idol. It took me just five minutes, six seconds to beat the unbeatable and relieve him of the title he claimed he’d take to his grave. He didn’t know how close he came.
Even though I beat him with pure wrestling skill (something he would not recognize) he claimed I was nothing but a street fighter. Even though that is not true, I don’t mind pleading guilty. Street fighting, in my opinion, is the most lethal form of combat and if there is one thing I can do better than wrestling, it’s street fighting. No wonder they named it after me. Street’s my name, street fighting’s my game! Remember! It doesn’t matter how you win, as long as you cheat.
I won the Southeastern Title four times. At least, that’s what I read on the internet lately. I can’t remember, but who am I to argue? The Phan’s know best.
The grudge matches I had in the Southeastern territory included Norvell, Austin, Terry Garvin, and “Wildcat” Wendell Cooley. The “Wildcat” hated me for calling him Gwendolyn Cuddly. He was as strong as an ox and, twice as smart, he didn’t know the meaning of the word fear. Mind you, he didn’t know the meaning of a lot of other words either.
Since we began living in Gulf Breeze, we don’t like traveling anywhere anymore, for an extended period. We love Gulf Breeze! I have been tempted away as far as Japan, since we began to grow roots, but only because they always pay me five figures for one shot.
Another reason we don’t like to travel anymore is the fact that most of my business interests are close at hand: realty, Bizarre Bazaar, The World’s Best Wrestling Wear, Skull Krushers Wrestling School, the incubator of future champions and superstars, and our art studios, we’re masterpieces of a less physical kind are created. It was observed by one of the reporters interviewing us recently, at an art gallery that was featuring Linda’s and my artwork, that he thought it highly unusual for such a rough, tough individuals as ourselves to be producing such a delicate and attractive works of art. “Not really,” I explained. “Since I was a kid of 16, I have been taking ugly wrestlers and beating them until they were beautiful.” Looking around the wrestling world at the moment, it seems I might have my work cut out for me for sometime to come.
Whilst in this area, I have won numerous title belts for various independent promotions, including the World Heavyweight Universal Championship (that has since gone belly up in the wake of the Big Two).
I received an offer from the WWF’s to manage a texting from Britain. They were going to be called “The British Skinheads.” I declined, as I have never been a racist in over 40 years as a professional wrestler, and would not compromise my reputation at this time in my career to pose as one now.
As I stated at the beginning of this article, I had my first pro match in 1957 and have somewhere in the region of 12,000 to 15,000 pro matches behind me. As a result of being a household name all over the world, I have appeared in more than a dozen movies, including Pasolini’s “Canterbury Tales,” “A Drink Out Of The Bottle,” “Rewind,” “Quest For Fire,” and “Grunt” the wrestling movie; plus lots of TV variety shows with Freddie Star, Rolf Harris, Lulu, Dana, Russell Hartey, Carol Baker, Eamon Andrews, Frankie Lane, and lots more both in Britain and Japan. And my father told me, when I was still in school, that if the coal mine was good enough for him, it was good enough for me. Thank goodness I didn’t agree with him. I don’t think Adrian Street the “ Coal Miner” would have accomplished as much as Adrian Street “The Wrestler.” I don’t know of another wrestler, who is still active today, who has wrestled as a lightweight welterweight, a middleweight, a light, heavy weight, and a heavy weight. I’ve wrestled excellent wrestlers who probably tipped the scales at less than 120 pounds right up to the behemoths that would break the scales with a body weight of 470 pounds or more.
What’s left to accomplish for the wrestler who’s done it all?
Two things. First, to see my student wrestlers, becoming the biggest stars in pro wrestling, and second, for me to Russell at least once after the year 2000. That way, I can say I’ve wrestled in six different decades. 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s and 10s. Two different centuries, 20th and 21st. And two different millenniums, 1000 and 2000. There’s not going to be too many wrestlers still wrestling who can claim to equal that!