From Stephen Platinum: It’s been a year since my father died. When it came time to decide what order things would take place, I insisted o...
From Stephen Platinum:
It’s been a year since my father died. When it came time to decide what order things would take place, I insisted on being the last speaker. I wanted everyone to know the kind of man my father was, what he meant to me, give them a glimpse of the man he was. He had done things few men had – flown fighter jets, reinvented himself as an older man, and became increasingly more open-minded and tolerant as he got older. He also put family first. This wasn’t a tired cliché with him. He got up, worked out, went to work, and then came home. That was his life. He was very open with me about the dreams he had that he didn’t attain (as a child he wanted to be a doctor) and very humble about his accomplishments (he served on the board at a hospital, and the Marines heaped many an accolade on him throughout his life, even after he retired from the military officially).
He never loved pro wrestling. He certainly didn’t encourage my love of it at a young age. But he was supportive enough – I remember him getting tickets for me and a couple of friends to see Wrestlemania II on closed circuit. I remember ordering Wrestlemania III for the house, and the incredible hassle of it (we had to go get a special box to descramble our cable, etc.) I remember him taking me to Holiday Mart (kind of a much smaller local-Hawaii version of Wal-mart) to buy tickets so I could go see the AWA or WWF when they came to Hawaii at the Neil Blaisdell center.
More than all of that good stuff, though, my dad taught me how to be a man. I had a saying about my parents and how they related to what I learned from them – “Treat people like my mom until you have to treat them like my dad.” My father was a tough man. Not a stupid man (he held multiple high-level degrees) and not a man who acted out of insecurity – but a tough man. Tough for people outside of his immediate family to get along with and relate to. He often assumed the worst of people and fiercely protected us, which made for many tense moments in public. My mom was (and is) gracious and almost regal with how she carries herself. She’s gregarious, funny and charming. My dad was the constant reminder, simply put, not to fuck with us.
My dad came and saw me wrestle. It was in Denver (I think). One of the times I worked Jake Roberts. His reaction afterwards was unexpected. He was proud that I was so hated. Apparently he had cheered for me when I came to the ring, and a bunch of fans shouted him down for doing it. He had never seen me like that – a long promo before the match where I made sure the crowd hated me, bouncing around the ring for Jake, and doing the commentary live for the entire show (I may have also done all of the ring introductions as well).
He saw me teach martial arts. He saw me get married, he saw me running my own wrestling show. He didn’t ever fully understand my obsession with pro wrestling. But, unlike my mom, he stopped calling it my “hobby” once he saw me in action.
I didn’t really have a “wrestling dad.” The scattered collection of guys that trained me didn’t really invest in my career. The guy that I was a “young boy” for didn’t show me anything. I never saw the people that initially showed me the ropes once the initial training camp was done. Ryan Katz, the guy who really broke into the booking part of wrestling with me in Colorado always gives due credit to Dan Magnus for starting him in the business. I am not as gracious as Ryan, as I know that Dan actually knew virtually nothing about wrestling. I did learn how to work people through him, so that’s something I guess. But I would be hard-pressed to have a “wrestling dad.” I had a real dad, and it was what I learned from him and my mom that’s colored most of what I did in wrestling.
There is a theory about development that talks about the three “suns” of a man’s life – the center of their universe, the thing that they revolve around and gain influence from. In short, the three suns are being family-centric, peer-centric, and then mate-centric.
There are a disproportionately large amount of pro wrestlers on the Georgia scene that show the ill-effects of a lack of father figure both in their real lives, and their wrestling ones as well. That first “sun” is important. It is the model on which you set a foundation for your life, and career. This isn’t to say that if you were lacking a father that you are doomed, and that if you didn’t have a wrestling dad worth a damn that you are doomed, but things certainly become an uphill climb.
How many people on the Georgia wrestling scene either had no actual father, an abusive father, or had a father who provided a shoddy blueprint on how to be a man? And how many people on the Georgia wrestling scene had no “wrestling dad,” abusive “wrestling dads,” or had a wrestling dad who provided a shoddy blueprint on how to view and conduct themselves in wrestling?
In the real world, when someone takes the role of a father when they are still in NEED of a father (in other words, still too young or inexperienced at life) it usually spells disaster. So let me ask – how many wrestlers and wrestling people are out there playing the role of wrestling dad who simply don’t know what they are doing? Who, instead of passing on the benefit of their experiences both negative and positive try and spin every choice they made and make as a good thing?
I’ll be more specific. There are a few people in the Georgia wrestling scene who do serve as father figures. But they are heavily outnumbered by those that take on a role as father, mentor and leader who are woefully ill-equipped for the job.
There was a time when you were supposed to be of a certain age to be a booker or promoter. The reasoning wasn’t just that the guys wouldn’t listen to someone perceived as a peer (though that was part of it) it was that your role as a booker or promoter was a father figure. Vince McMahon Sr., Sam Muchnick, and others that were held in high regard by almost everyone carried themselves a certain way. Yes, they were in charge – that was clear. But they proved themselves competent. They proved themselves trustworthy. They created environments where when the wrestlers became peer-centric, they could still “come home” to his promotion, he would resume his role as wrestling dad in charge, and the promotion would run smoothly.
Sometimes guys develop into great “wrestling dads.” Paul Heyman comes to mind. He went from a brash, cocky, hard-to-deal with talent to the dad of ECW, where he did whatever it took to keep it going, but epitomized the sleazy promoter to do it. Now he’s a mentor, an example and…an actual father. And a good one, by all accounts. This isn’t a coincidence.
The Georgia scene is a thriving one – but there’s a lot of wrestlers, promoters and bookers who never had that first sun. They never worked under a father figure that guided them and gave them that solid blueprint. Hell, many of them didn’t have positive fathers. But they still crave those things a father would provide – unfortunately that means that many of them do what people who are deprived of positive attention and care – they either seek out negative attention, approval from any source that will give it to them (see: shit shows) or try and become parents themselves. Just like the neglected daughter who becomes the teen mother, there are a host of wrestlers out there who hold themselves out to be gurus, patron saints, and veterans who are anything but.
What is the wrestling equivalent of the third sun? “Mate-centric?” For wrestlers, there are those that have learned to have a healthy relationship with wrestling itself. Pro wrestling is often described as a “mistress” or the “love of my life.” There are reasons these analogies fit. For those that had a healthy upbringing in the wrestling business, with proper father figures/mentors, and who had a relationship with their fellow performers that was one of true peer benefit and not the unhealthy cesspool of flawed people jockeying for position to lead other flawed people, having a true relationship with pro wrestling itself – having it in context with your life instead of making it something it is not – is the result.
Maybe you’ve noticed that there are an awful lot of wrestling people that seem to want to put a stamp of approval on things publicly that have no real credibility to do so. Maybe you’ve noticed careers stalling out when a wrestler trades the warmth of one sun for the next one. Maybe you’ve noticed the abundance of really terrible promotions that call themselves “families” around. In fact, they use the supposed bond of “family” to demand more of the wrestlers while offering next to nothing.
Who was your father figure? Who was your first sun? A quality trainer? A promoter or booker that really pushed you? What about your actual father? What could you learn from him? Georgia wrestling has a lot of bastards running around. It has a lot of guys that are trying to be the sun when they should be looking for one.
When you move on to the peer-centric second sun – who are your peers? Who do you choose to spend time with? Those are the people who influence you. Are they the kind of performers you yourself want to be? Do they have good ideas? I adapted something I was told about performers in general – I was told that all actors did well were two things: drink coffee and bitch. There are a lot of wrestlers who waste time and bitch. If you’re second sun is a bitching clique, it is what it is. Complaining is a time-honored pastime in the wrestling game. At the same time, when “the boys” have run their own wrestling stuff in the state…how has that worked out?
As for that third sun – the stories of the boys making horrible choices because of pussy are never-ending and as ridiculous as they are commonplace. As for those that profess a love for wrestling, if you didn’t have a good start with a proper wrestling dad, if you didn’t interact with peers that provided a positive influence, then you simply aren’t worthy of loving wrestling. You don’t love wrestling enough for an actual relationship – a relationship where you are contributing as much as you are taking away.
In the end, that’s the breakdown – the foundation is missing. Guys often don’t have father figures worth a damn. And they don’t have wrestling fathers worth a damn. But that’s their role model. That’s their template for being in wrestling. Wrestling fathers that run shit promotions. That don’t know how to train. That don’t teach properly. They are having wrestling children that are ill-prepared, and go on to have wrestling children of their own that are even worse. They interact with peers that tend to be cut from similar moldy cloths. And all the while they profess a love of wrestling. But they are incapable of anything but the most selfish of loves.
There are people in the wrestling game who truly are around that third sun, guided by their own experiences, superior minds and well-established status as true veterans and teachers. Then there are the 96% out there that think that they are.
Make sure you are going through each step. Re-trace your steps as necessary. Humble yourself and master each step. Otherwise, you are likely part of the problem, supporting those who are also part of the problem. A lot of time is spent railing against the lowest of the low. Certainly I have done that myself. But in reality, while the glaringly bad in Georgia wrestling gets a lot of attention, they really aren’t the problem. Because they may draw crowds, but they draw wrestling fans that are happy with shit. I’m concerned with those that think they have the answers that clearly don’t know how to play and understand the game that they are an integral part of. Wrestlers who have a host of opinions who are as dull as dishwater. Wrestlers who openly complain about promoters and bookers when they don’t know how to get themselves over. Guys that love talking about their own unabashed love for wrestling that don’t even have their own lives on track.
Wrestling needs you to be better, and stop simply pretending that you are.
The next Full Disclosure is coming out quickly…tomorrow, likely, by the weekend at the latest. It’s an important story that needs to be told, about one of the truly good guys in Georgia wrestling who is the victim of an injustice most foul. And we are obligated to know about it, and do something about it.