Capitol Revolution: The Rise of the McMahon Wrestling Empire

Capitol Revolution: The Rise of the McMahon Wrestling Empire

by Tim Hornbaker
Capitol Revolution: The Rise of the McMahon Wrestling Empire

Capitol Revolution: The Rise of the McMahon Wrestling Empire

by Tim Hornbaker

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Overview

The definitive take on the McMahon family’s journey to wrestling domination

For decades, the northeastern part of the United States, better known to insiders as the territory of the Capitol Wrestling Corporation, was considered the heart of the professional wrestling world. Capitol territory — from Boston southward to Washington, D.C. — enjoyed lucrative box-office receipts, and New York’s Madison Square Garden was centre stage. Three generations of McMahons have controlled wrestling in that storied building and have since created the most powerful wrestling company the world has ever known.

Capitol Revolution: The Rise of the McMahon Wrestling Empire documents the growth and evolution of pro wrestling under the leadership of the McMahons, highlighting the many trials and tribulations beginning in the early 20th century: clashes with rival promoters, government inquests, and routine problems with the potent National Wrestling Alliance monopoly. In the ring, superstars such as Buddy Rogers and Bruno Sammartino entertained throngs of fans, and Capitol became internationally known for its stellar pool of vibrant performers.

Covering the transition from old-school wrestling under the WWWF banner to the pop-cultural juggernaut of the mid- to late-’80s WWF, Tim Hornbaker’s Capitol Revolution is the detailed history of how the McMahons outlasted their opponents and fostered a billion-dollar empire.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781770906891
Publisher: ECW Press
Publication date: 03/01/2015
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 328
Sales rank: 792,872
File size: 6 MB

About the Author

Tim Hornbaker is the author of three nonfiction books, including National Wrestling Alliance: The Untold Story of the Monopoly that Strangled Pro Wrestling (ECW, 2007). He lives in South Florida with his wife Jodi.

Read an Excerpt

Capitol Revolution

The Rise of the McMahon Wrestling Empire


By Tim Hornbaker

ECW PRESS

Copyright © 2015 Tim Hornbaker
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-77090-689-1


CHAPTER 1

AN EMERGING TERRITORY IN TURMOIL


During World War I, professional wrestling was in a state of flux as syndicate leaders struggled to maintain their relevance. A lack of new and exciting superstars was hurting the industry, and while top-tier wrestlers Ed "Strangler" Lewis, Joe Stecher, and Wladek Zbyszko were capable box office attractions, wrestling needed a boost. The fact that Earl Caddock, the generally accepted world heavyweight champion, was overseas in combat also hurt big-time grappling — especially after various title claimants appeared in his absence. The confusion damaged wrestling's reputation and left many wondering who was in charge of the sport.

In the East, Jack Curley was considered the most powerful sponsor of pro wrestling. Nearing 41, he was originally from San Francisco but had traveled throughout the Americas and Europe in his quest to become one of the sport's top promoters. Based out of New York City, he masterminded the first-rate spectacles at Madison Square Garden, wrestling's premier venue, and his shows were highly successful. He was cordial with promoters and managers across the country and, because of that, was able to import many recognizable wrestlers for his programs. His shows offered a diversity of talent, from quicker light heavyweights to the bulky mastodons who relied on their strength to defeat foes.

Curley expertly managed the politics of professional sports, and he was a diplomat in many respects: He synchronized efforts with city officials, laying the groundwork for his public events while cleverly handling the erratic personalities of various boxing and wrestling personnel. There was rarely a dull moment among the upper tier of wrestling leaders, and he ably balanced the fragile environment made up of Billy Sandow and Tony Stecher, managers of Lewis and Joe Stecher, respectively. Between 1917 and 1921, harmony prevailed for the most part, and a number of high-profile matches were staged, which advanced the principal storylines.

From 1916, when he first put down roots in the New York metropolitan area, Curley was the primary wrestling impresario, and his local monopoly went unchallenged. That changed in 1921, when a perceived insult motivated well-known boxing promoter George Lewis "Tex" Rickard to enter the sport. The supposed offense related to the American tour of Georges Carpentier and the way Curley overshadowed Rickard because of his personal friendship with the French fighter. Rickard was unwilling to forgive and essentially declared war on Curley, pledging to take over all preeminent grappling in New York. Rickard used his political pull to banish his foe from the Garden — if any future wrestling shows were staged, he'd run them himself.

The spiteful retaliation didn't end there. Rickard's beliefs were impressed upon the members of the newly instituted New York State Athletic Commission, and Chairman William Muldoon, the "Iron Duke," agreed that the theatrical wrestling presented by Curley was substandard at best. A champion wrestler 40 years before, Muldoon considered himself to be the best judge of virtuous and honest wrestling in the state, and he spearheaded the commission's drive to oust Curley by refusing to issue him a license.

Although gaining steam, Rickard was hurt by the fact that most of the prime wrestlers and managers were already aligned with Curley, making up what was known as the "Trust." Rickard nevertheless pushed forward and put his faith behind "Trustbuster" Marin Plestina, a big 34-year-old Yugoslavian managed by vociferous J.C. "Joe" Marsh. Plestina brought credibility to wrestling, not shenanigans, Rickard believed, and if he was as good as Marsh said, he'd quickly take out the pretenders and assume the heavyweight championship mantle.

Plestina's first obstacle was a Nebraskan named John Pesek, a wrestler who lived up to his nickname of "Tigerman" by displaying cat-like reflexes and astonishing ferociousness. He was a rare breed of grappler, mixing strength and aptitude with otherworldly instincts. To this day, few pro wrestlers rate alongside Pesek in terms of legitimate shooting and hooking skills, and Plestina, regardless of his size and ability, was outmatched from the initial bell.

But Pesek, an operative working on behalf of Curley, wasn't in New York to win. He was in town to send a message to Rickard and set out to single-handedly ruin his program. He did it with a deliberately unprofessional display, completely unbefitting center stage at the Garden. He threw out the rulebook when he entered the ring on November 14, 1921, and lunged at Plestina with the intent to maim. He frequently butted and gouged at his opponent's eyes, and an uninformed observer would've thought the illegal maneuvers were part of the catch-as-catch-can repertoire. Pesek was disqualified three separate times for fouling and what little wrestling took place was an utter disappointment. While Pesek was criticized, his syndicate allies knew he had delivered a flawless execution. His mission to tarnish Rickard's promotional endeavors was accomplished.

Rickard was annoyed. He disliked the atmosphere of wrestling and saw little hope of making any money. Boxing was his priority, and he wanted it to remain that way. In January 1922, he worked out an arrangement to turn over the matchmaking duties for grappling at the Garden to sportsman William Wellman. About 10 years earlier, at the age of 21, Wellman had managed all aspects of the stadium and was considered a prodigy. With a concise plan and financial backers, he was taking on the negative odds and all the naysayers in an attempt to resurrect the sport. He admittedly knew next to nothing about wrestling, but he did understand promotions, and his experience, he felt, was going to be instrumental in churning out a moneymaker.

Whereas Rickard didn't have the support of the Trust, Wellman did, and his friendly relations with Curley gave him an advantage. Years earlier, he had been responsible for getting Curley his first position at the Garden, and Curley was ever loyal to his longtime associate. He gave his approval to Trust workers to appear on Wellman's shows, and in the wrestling business, that was akin to getting the Pope's blessing.

Nevertheless, the success of the new combine completely rested in the hands of the public. For a show featuring the Zbyszko Brothers, Caddock, Ed "Strangler" Lewis, and ex-Olympian Nat Pendleton on February 6, 1922, an estimated 12,000 people turned out. A couple of weeks later, half that attendance showed up for a Garden program headlined by Lewis and Cliff Binckley. Wellman was unable to sustain the high overhead and reassessed his commitment to promoting wrestling. In the meantime, New York's wrestling scene fizzled into nothingness, and Curley went overseas to Europe, where he concentrated on boxing.

The focal point of professional wrestling was still the world heavyweight championship. On March 3, 1922, in promoter Tom Law's Midwestern haven of Wichita, Kansas, the crown passed from Stanislaus Zbyszko back to Strangler Lewis. The title switch wasn't unexpected, as Lewis and his manager Billy Sandow had proven to be two of the shrewdest men in the sport. They were continuously plotting and planning to increase their monetary intake, much like Frank Gotch and Farmer Burns in the old days, and their scheming not only accounted for today's business but tomorrow's and the day after's as well.

Under the rule of Lewis and Sandow, wrestling was becoming more sophisticated. Their booking practices shifted from an ordinary, straight-laced strategy to one that embraced Lewis as a purposefully devious heel. The change in image was shocking to fans in cities that had seen Lewis perform previously, and when his sportsmanship was called into question, audiences turned on him in a split second. Normally the champion was regarded as honorable, but Lewis and his crippling headlock were sinister, and many times, the rancor of crowds nearly bubbled into riots. In these instances, Lewis needed police protection to escape the ring.

Lewis's metamorphosis motivated people to support his underdog challengers, such as Joe "Toots" Mondt, Mike Romano, Dick Daviscourt, and Stanley Stasiak. In competitive championship matches, fans were often subjected to a third fall gimmick that led to Lewis retaining. For example, in Chicago on April 29, 1924, the champion was engaged in a grueling bout against Romano. After winning the second fall with a headlock, Romano had won over the crowd and was going strong into the third. Lewis, on the other hand, was exhausted, holding onto the ropes to remain upright. Both Romano and the audience sensed victory, and the wrestler attempted to pull the heavier champion off the ropes to the middle of the ring. But Romano lost his grip and stumbled, giving Lewis time to pounce. He quickly applied a double wristlock and took the win.

The stunned audience was angry. They had seen their Italian idol hoodwinked by Lewis's unwillingness to resemble a true champion in the third fall. The Strangler then took advantage of Romano's mistake and triumphed. In response to the unjust scenario, fans littered the ring area with bottles.

Lewis appeared to become more and more beatable, much to the delight of spectators, but he always eked out a win. In Boston at the Arena on May 8, 1924, a large audience rooted for Stasiak to finally strip the Strangler of his title. He was on his way, winning the first fall, but the constant choke holds applied by Lewis were making him blindingly mad. Finally he cracked and fouled the champion, and the match was stopped. Stasiak was disqualified and Lewis retained. Once again, people voiced their complaints and nearly ran amok. Police were on hand and stifled the animosity before it got out of control.

Sandow was the brains behind the syndicate. Born Wilhelm Baumann in Rochester, New York, the 40-year-old manager and promoter was a proficient manipulator and well connected throughout the nation. He smartly fostered the creation of a stable of wrestlers, formed a circuit of towns for Lewis to travel, and used the exceptional skills of Pesek as a "policeman." In wrestling parlance, that means Pesek was used as a barrier between rogue grapplers and the champion. If a certain jurisdiction ordered Lewis to wrestle outlaws like Plestina or Jack Sherry, the potential challenger would have to defeat Pesek first. Such a result was doubtful; thus, Lewis was safe from having to wrestle a legitimate contest against an unknown commodity.

In Tulsa, Wichita, and Chicago, three of Sandow's most important cities, he staged a system of elimination matches to build up challengers and make title contests against Lewis seem more consequential. It also added fan encouragement to the challengers' momentous undertaking, as if the wrestler and audience were united in the climb toward the championship. Attendance would typically skyrocket for the culminating bout against Lewis and then play out in dramatic fashion.

The value of the heavyweight championship was measureless to Sandow and Lewis. Their ownership of the title meant financial success and the kind of press attention competitors envied. When Sandow proposed ideas, sportswriters listened, and the noteworthy concept of a wrestler-versus-boxer mixed matchup between champions Lewis and Jack Dempsey was seriously bandied about. To Sandow, it was an opportunity to attract a record attendance and make a copious amount of money.

Finding a way to arrange the affair so that it didn't hurt either athlete's box office appeal was tougher than imagined. There were several options. At the forefront was the legitimate, freewheeling shoot. Opposite was the worked shoot, which portrayed the bout to be genuine but was anything but. Then there was the draw or inconclusive/disqualification finish. The latter, if done the right way, would preserve the integrity of both men, although the always-unpopular DQ ending could inspire a backlash. But it was clear that a loss for either Lewis or Dempsey would likely cause irreparable damage.

In New York, William Muldoon was not thrilled about the idea and refused to issue a license for any prospective bout locally. There were still hopes of staging the contest elsewhere, but, despite the enormous interest, plans faded and were forgotten.

Another significant virtue of controlling the heavyweight championship was that promoters from all over North America were vying for appearances from the titleholder in their town. Sandow was able to be highly selective. He set the financial terms beforehand and dictated whom Lewis was going to face. Budding promoters Tom Packs of St. Louis and Lou Daro in Los Angeles were eager to feature Lewis on a regular basis.

After spending most of 1922 in France, Jack Curley affiliated himself with a new venture in New York City, the Cycle Sports Corporation. The outfit was run by 42-year-old Matthew "Matty" Zimmerman, the manager of the Leblang's famous Broadway bargain ticket agency. He also worked as a matchmaker for the Lexington Avenue Athletic Club. Zimmerman had obtained authorization from the athletic commission to operate sports at the 71st Regiment Armory, and Curley was hired as an assistant. Once again, Curley's connections to talent were instrumental, and Wladek Zbyszko, George Calza, and Ernest Siegfried were spotlighted.

Curley lured champion Lewis to town for a March 26, 1923, match against Cliff Binckley, but the show received so much commission interference that it had to be canceled at the last minute. First, Muldoon announced the main event could not be billed as a championship contest because Binckley wasn't an authentic contender. Going a step further, the commission decided to pull the plug on sanctioning the bout, pressuring Curley and Zimmerman to replace Binckley with either Siegfried or Zbyszko. They were unable to make the last-minute substitution, and the show was called off.

Lacking high-quality performers and matches that could garner widespread interest, Cycle Sports struggled but planned another push for attention beginning in October 1923. Curley booked two impressive German newcomers, Hans Steinke and Dick Shikat, plus collegians Frank Judson and Nick Lutze. In the headliner, Zbyszko was matched against Plestina in what would end up being a two-hour, 30-minute draw. Another show was staged in early December, but the kind of returns they anticipated failed to materialize.

Surprisingly, in spite of the poor conditions in the area, Rickard was again motivated to try his hand at wrestling promotions. He envisioned a grand tournament for Madison Square Garden to begin on January 3, 1924, and invited the biggest names to participate. Sportswriter W.C. Vreeland of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle wondered if the top wrestlers had "deserted" the syndicate of Curley for Rickard because the latter had control of the valuable Garden. Whether any of the star grapplers would really appear remained to be seen.

In what was turning out to be a season of bombshells, the New York State Athletic Commission rendered a decision in December 1923 that shockingly favored Curley and hurt Rickard. Muldoon and his commission mates concluded that, owing to the diminished popularity of wrestling, only one license was needed in New York City — and that it belonged to Curley and Zimmerman. Even though Rickard had publicly announced his upcoming tournament and made preparations, it was forcibly abandoned.

On January 16, 1924, the wrestling license of the Cycle Sports Club expired. Curley, not wasting any time, immediately obtained commission approval for a new organization, the Mayflower Athletic Corporation. After being shunned by Muldoon for nearly three years, Curley was back in his rightful spot, running pro wrestling shows under his own marquee. No longer did he have to mask his leadership position by claiming to be a press agent or some kind of mid-level guy. He'd finally returned to the top of the New York pyramid, and the only thing that he still needed was the heavyweight title. Commandeering the championship would be accomplished by hook or by crook.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Capitol Revolution by Tim Hornbaker. Copyright © 2015 Tim Hornbaker. Excerpted by permission of ECW PRESS.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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