Bard Maddox posted:

https://twitter.com/Rosenbergradio/status/849051527046213633

Abroham Lincoln posted:

I'm trying to parse what this even means or could possibly mean and no permutation of it is actually making sense

DJExile posted:

who the hell is Alfred Konuwa and why is this on forbes of all loving places

MassRafTer posted:

DO NOT POST ANYTHING FROM THIS FORUM.

quote:

It is suggested in this retrospective of Bob Backlund’s career that he was a forerunner, some thirty years earlier, of the John Cena effect on fans.

I’m not so much remembering a give and take of the fans, some hating, some loving, as much as noticing the disconnect between the passionate fans of professional wrestling and of a certain Living Legend, and the portrayal of a World Champion by Backlund.

Sure, historians and revisionists will say that Backlund’s reign was marred by the predetermined length of Superstar Billy Graham’s holding of the belt, but I’m still convinced, especially after reading this book, that there was a disconnect that constantly held Backlund back, if I dare say so, from enjoying the passions of the WWWF fandom.

Which is ironic, since the opening chapters of this book were compelling, passionate and vastly interesting, and the concluding chapter spoke much about the passions of the Princeton, Minnesota native and seventh person to hold the most prestigious gold of the 1960’s and 1970’s.

Bob Backlund had a lot of Old School training, but his legacy was planted in both eras. Backlund was discovered by Eddie Sharkey and got significant training and breaks from the Funks, Harley Race and Eddie Graham. He learned the ropes in the territories, where jobbers and jobbing were part of the business.

That aspect of the book was a great insight, showing how he learned, how he toiled on the road and how he made his mark, once the opportunity was given him.

It is obvious from history, other writings and the book that Backlund was groomed for what could have been an NWA Championship run, or perhaps it was always for the WWWF Backlund’s professed lack of politicking gives him the ‘out’ to not fully reveal what he knew, or what he learned, about that monumental decision that skyrocketed his career.

That’s a bit of a disappointment.

As a transitional figure, Backlund is more known and has more of a reputation for what the moderns style is known for. Sure, there’s Ric Flair: who took the lead with making sure his spots got in, disconnecting fan reaction from the match itself, and making character more important than storytelling.

Yeah, I’m putting him in front of Hogan, but it’s hard to fashion Hogan as having a wrestling style, at least in this country, where he never really needed it, in his own take on professional wrestling.

The thing is, and often seemingly in spite of a lot of words to the contrary in the book, Backlund already broke ground in failing to connect with the fans. He talks of his blue collar effort and workingman roots, but then wonders why Boston and Philadelphia never really took to him.

That disconnect is quite evident in a rather tedious retelling of the Backlund Championship years. But along the way, there are some good tales, great commentary and a lot of insight in the ways a professional wrestler is supposed to wrestle, in the Old School style.

Like so many professional wrestling books, the story starts out on fire, but there’s seemingly always a few criticisms, and a point where the book falls apart. Like a lot of very good books, this one captured the voice of the man, gave him character, showed him learning lessons, and explained the hard work and the rigors that made Champions in the Old School era.

But storytelling in the ring, and on the printed page are very similar to me, which provides a lot of mirroring in terms of Backlund’s approach.

The first critique that comes to me is that the quotes in the book were overdone.

All come from the 19th Century version of Norman Vincent Peale (as I try my own JohnBradshawLayfieldism) to the ongoing comments from a who’s who of wrestling’s notables, there’s a certain sense of desperation in the words, and a pleasant avoidance of what can be read between the lines.

As an aside, the quotes of Napoleon Hill are interesting, but a nearly 500 page book with every chapter lead by an obscure writer, instead of inserts from the various, insightful and again, who’s who of the professional wrestling world seems to be a wacky decision.

Undoubtedly a decision by Mr. Backlund.

(Yes, I’m referencing the “Mr. Backlund” of the 1990’s and of recent days).

The Bob Backlund of Championship fame, and the Bob Backlund who’s elusive personal life is well discussed in the first 1/3 of this book, and the Bob Backlund that concludes this book is ill-served by the constant questioning of “who’s that”.

(I mean, there’s Napoleon Bonaparte and there’s Napoleon Dynamite, so anyone has to dig deep to find out the proper references for Mr. Hill).

Backlund, a true All-American, had the technical skills that overshadowed most previous All-American types and Olympic wrestlers, and now eclipsed only by Kurt Angle, had all the fundamentals, had the look, and had (as we’re told, repeatedly by himself and others) an understanding of the business that never quite surpassed the sum of the parts.

In reading between the lines, recollections of my own, and remembrances of books written over the ages, Backlund’s skill was never the problem.

The constant italicization of wrestling, the admissions of shyness and again, the constant references to his performances in the ring all reinforce that Backlund was never known for his mic skills. Backlund’s spelling out of the bookings, the matchups and the loaded cards that accompanied him at Madison Square Garden (and his constant references that the whole card makes the show) also lead to questioning.

Why was Backlund surrounded by loaded cards at MSG?

Why did Backlund write so much about wrestling different styles, and also wrestling the NWA style, when there is so much commentary (and again, reading between the lines and reading the quotes in the book) about his inability to sell?

Why has Backlund over-focused on his in-ring ability?

There’s another irony in where I perceive the book veering away from what seemed to be an awesome auto-biography, but I’ll let the readers read it themselves.

But like so many professional wrestling books, there’s the obligatory Andre drinking story, the references to blading, and the sense that, at some point, the promises of a consistent book has derailed.

Backlund’s early years are a story that inspires and teaches.

His efforts to overcome his lot in life, and his efforts to build himself into a champion, plus the moral tale of expectations and expecting too much are words that go vastly beyond this infamous sport. When Backlund speaks of his formative years, his high school exploits and his passion for athletics (despite the indifference of his football coach) are glimpses into the real Bob Backlund.

That genuine voice suddenly departs us after a few long quotes.

I understand Backlund’s approach to family, but as a fan, do I want the nostalgia of a Champion retelling his month-by-month feuds, or do I was more glimpses into his life, especially after he left the sport and as he returned to it a decade later and generations removed from his days.

Backlund’s position as a Champion among Champions cannot be challenged, because his longevity ranks him high on any real list (don’t get me started about the SI list). Even if McMahon Sr refused to give up on Backlund, as many have said, because of his own stubbornness, and even if a number of his peers were jealous in their commentary, there remains that sense of disconnect.

To me, writing a book is a lot like wrestling a match. There’s an opening, a display of talent, the crafting of the story and the engagement of the fans. Then there’s the finish, which must be logical, compelling and build upon the middle of the match.

Backlund’s story begins with passion and inspiration, and ends with a satisfying finish, just like applying the chicken-wing crossface on a dastardly heel.

But in between, my take is a commentary on his disconnect with the fans as it mirrors the meandering retelling of feud after feud, telling a few tales in between, writing a bit too much about the midcarders and the guys before him and around him.

There’s something about writing those snippets with a sense that nostalgia would be stoked and satisfied by going through the motions, but like a few notable wrestlers noted in quotes included in the book,

Backlund had a bad habit of “not staying down”. Pat Patterson comments on this, as do others.

Despite the rub and the overly kind words of Terry Funk, Bruno Sammartino and Ken Patera, there are a few more of those notes, there are a few too many insistences that Backlund had to be a good draw, and a few awkward references as to why he didn’t connect with Boston, or with Philadelphia.

Like Backlund or not, the biggest problem with Bob Backlund the professional wrestling Champion seemed to be his inability to talk up his matches, his over-reliance on technical skills and trying to be the NWA World Champion in a Federation trailblazed by someone who was vastly more than a “brawler”.

The passionate side of Backlund, that comes through tremendously in his later wrestling, where he relied upon a quirky character and a fascinating twist on being both a pure babyface and true heel to the dumbed down modern fan base of the 1990’s and today, comes through in the concluding pages.

Like Backlund’s career, this book is worth of being placed among the top tier of the industry, but not quite the best, despite the passion and the talent and the stories told.

But again, no one really said that Backlund couldn’t finish… only that he couldn’t connect.

Joe Babinsack can be reached at chaosonejoe@yahoo.com

Beef Jerky Robot posted:

I was just about to ask if that was a Babinsack original then I got to the bottom

E: I didn't read the whole thing, does he bring up his good friend Bruno?

Feels Villeneuve posted:

I thought the Living Legend was Larry Z.

oatgan posted:

https://twitter.com/ToddMartinMMA/status/855854288857333762
https://twitter.com/ToddMartinMMA/status/855854604235534337

DJExile posted:

what's this about?

sportsgenius86 posted:

Where does babinsack post his stuff now so I can avoid it?

quote:

The reality of Conor McGregor’s epic win over Jose Aldo, and especially considering the circumstances, the talk and the decisiveness of his defeating a once unbeatable Champion, begs a lot of comparisons.

Over the years, the discussions of combat sports industries, of which MMA and professional wrestling share vast connections and are different in significant ways, always come back to the Champion, and how they are made, how they can be made, and how they actually play out their reigns.

McGregor’s 13 second win can obviously be compared to Ronda Rousey.

But McGregor needs several more wins to get to her level of dominance. Until he destroys opponents in round one, like Rousey mostly did, like Mike Tyson did (more than half of his decisive KO’s and TKO’s were done in Rounds 1 and 2), he’s not going to be considered a force of nature.

Then again, McGregor is 15-0 since 2011, and only once went into the 3rd round.

And yet McGregor is already much more of a performer, someone who can talk the talk of a ”drawing card’, and not just rely upon the awe of the MMA fanbase in how he can win. This weekend, Conor McGregor connected his promotional ability to his awesome ability in the ring. This week, when the Pay-Per-View numbers are released, and despite the presence of a very impressive Middleweight Champion on the card, those numbers are going to get attributed to the brash young Irishman.

(Whether Luke Rockhold or Chris Weidman can trump Anderson Silva is the first thing that comes into mind for that Championship, but that’s another piece to ponder. For now, a 13 second win overwhelms discussion of that epic battle).

The talking up of the battle with Jose Aldo had been masterful. Talk about besting the “king of the jungle” and taking all he has – spoken over the image of McGregor stealing the Title Belt from Aldo – that’s the kind of stuff that could be scripted, would be scripted, should be scripted, but WWE Creative has no clue about making it make sense.

What McGregor does in the ring is not scripted at all.

I don’t want to overwhelm this piece with “WWE Creative sucks” commentary, but there was a time and an era where professional wrestling hit all the same cylinders. I’ll get back to that in a bit.

Talking has been a staple of professional wrestling, but neither the hyperbole of long time NWA Heavyweight Champions nor the catch-phrases of late 1990 professional wrestlers turned Hollywood movie actors can match the patter of the current UFC Featherweight Champion.

Undisputed, current, UFC Featherweight Champion that is.

Professional wrestling has had guys who could talk like McGregor talks now. Ironically, the one example that I have also won a Title in record-setting fashion, under a minute, over an aging but respected Champion whose loss in such a fashion put an exclamation point on the situation, and set the stage for domination.

Neither Rousey nor Tyson jump-started their careers with a win like this.

Both of those dominant Champions continued their mastery of opponents on through their Championship reigns, but neither really needed a mouthpiece, nor did they talk up the game so much as McGregor.

Rousey was handed a Championship, and Tyson bested Trevor Berbick, but not in a 13 second or a 48 second match.

Neither set the stage with talk that exuded their confidence, rankled their opponent or continued their reigns with amping up each match by connecting to the fans and riling them up to watch. Rousey lucked into Bethe Correia being more a heel than anyone could have hoped for. Tyson merely steamrolled everyone in put in his way.

Until Buster Douglas showed up.

I don’t mean to disrespect Tyson, and if Mike’s getting angry I’ll take the path that Chris Cruise used, and tell him that I’m a friend of Bruno Sammartino.

Because if Conor McGregor compares to anyone at this stage of his career, it’s to Bruno Sammartino.

Analogies are rarely perfect, and this one has a glaring flaw, since Conor McGregor is anything but a babyface in his talk, bravado and actions, and Bruno Sammartino has never been anything but a babyface in his career and public image.

(I’ve also made comparisons in the past, but Erick Stevens never caught on above Full Impact Pro, despite his physical presence and ability to work different styles, and Mercedes Martinez had a Championship run in WSU that made me think of the former WWWF Champion).

But Conor McGregor doesn’t just look like a potentially dominant Champion, and draws comparisons on several levels. He has that unmistakable level of charisma, the ability to connect with the fans, and an unmistakable correlation between talent and talk, between talking up a match and delivering it in the ring, between the aura of a Champion and most likely the ability to be a long term champion.

Like Bruno, Conor McGregor made a name for himself before making a huge splash.

While the controversies that plagued both early in their career are completely different, both bided their time before getting that big opportunity on the biggest stage of their sports.

What impresses me with Conor McGregor is that he’s now the Champion, based on a work ethic that is obvious and world-class, an entertainment style that sets him apart from his peers, and a physicality that cannot be denied.

Time will tell, but perhaps like Bruno, we’ll see a Champion that appeals to his ethic roots all the while making a broader appeal to all fans. Perhaps we’ll see McGregor sizing up his opponents, talking up the bout, connecting with his fans and making everyone want to watch him.

Like Bruno, Conor is already telling the fans what he’s going to do, tackling the monster put in front of him, and delivering on the promises made by executing them without error.

Sure, professional wrestling is a different animal in many ways, but there’s something that Bruno Sammartino mastered in his record-setting first title reign, which lasted 8 years, and saw him build fans to a crescendo for each battle, all the while making a special connection to them.

Maybe McGregor will be the antithesis of Bruno’s approach, but he also seems to see the bigger picture of entertainment within the reality of his sport. McGregor seems to present himself, portray himself, and be himself as a larger than life figure.

Time will tell if McGregor can surpass Ronda Rousey’s stint as unbeatable, or if he’ll make a dominate career like Tyson, but by storming the big stage and dethroning Aldo like he was a rag doll, there’s not been a Champion in a long time who got launched in such a fashion, with much of the hype coming from his own actions.

Professional wrestling should have learned so much from the 1960’s, but instead used analogies to diminish instead of build up. Professional wrestling is a sport that controls so much, but displaying dominance and allowing talent to shine on multiple levels of fan interaction is its greatest weakness.

Conor McGregor stands today as a man who has his career in front of him, and controls his destiny. But with his mouth and his work ethic, let alone his talent, it will be interesting to see what kind of Champion he is in eight years.

Joe Babinsack can be reached at chaosonejoe@yahoo.com

quote:

One of the biggest problems of professional wrestling these days is the concept of booking.

Once upon a time, booking was a lot simpler, a lot less involved, and an activity focused more on matchmaking and scheduling. Booking these days has morphed into a complete creative control over the product, and along the way the ensuing losses (in talent, character, interaction with the fans, storytelling and any sense of logic) have reached the point where booking itself is no longer meaningful.

There was a time when booking was the compilation of matches across the circuit.

Sure, the modern day fan acting as an apologist, will claim that such scheduling is a thing of the past. I’ll be chided for not accepting that TV is no longer for building up arena events (let along PPV events, I retort) and that the same match held in multiple cities just isn’t realistic.

Back in the day, matchmaking focused on putting talent together to put on a good match, to build up a wrestler for bigger and better things, to fill out the card. To me, there are basic rules for matchmaking, which I will get to later, where I will also touch on realistic, my friend the modern day apologist.

(If you are still watching and/or caring).

The best comparison for booking is the comparison between Mixed Martial Arts and any given professional wrestling promotion, setting aside the reality that MMA matches are not scheduled across a circuit. But then again, my modern day apologist types should understand that most pro wrestling doesn’t focus on scheduling the same match across the circuit anymore.

Pro Wrestling, we’re told, is best presented free.

Which explains why it doesn’t draw, but that’s a digression.

To me, the basics of booking should be meaningful, and here are some of my rules.

Matches should be based on putting someone over, not so much wins and losses (I hear the laughter piped in as I write). To spell that out for the modern day fan, wrestling matches shouldn’t just have an ending, and shouldn’t just be for portraying a modern day acceptable performance, but should focus on showing someone winning, and showing someone losing.

It’s a nuance; it’s a lost art; it’s a concept lost on Hollywood types, but show me a match where the emphasis is on back-and-forth action, getting all the spots in and eventually playing out a finish and I’ll show you a match that cannot light a candle to a jobber match from the 1970’s.

Winning should mean that someone is better.

Better could be for that night, or in long terms. Better could mean that someone got tripped up, had an injury, or got the worst of a move. Better could mean that someone had a bad night, or someone else had a great one. Better could mean the domination of one guy over the other, or the inability of one guy to do anything to the other.

Read that last paragraph and tell me the last time any of that played out in a match.

I’ll stop my rules there.

I happened to turn on the TV and saw some Ring of Honor matches: Same old, same old, in many ways; some not-so-new faces, and some not-so-unexpected approaches, but Ring of Honor remains mired in its slotting in the professional wrestling pecking order for the same reasons… booking being the glaring, main reason.

What really pains me is to point out the flaws with Moose, with Roderick Strong, with The Kingdom, with Michael Elgin, with Jay Lethal, all of whom I have great respect for. Ring of Honor, as a promotion, has been a favorite of mine, and not just because they sent me a lot of free stuff over the years.

I’ve been backstage at Ring of Honor, and I’ve seen the respect they have. I’ve sparred with Kevin Kelly, shook hands with Joe Koff and had Hunter Johnston give me the thumbs up after Bruno Sammartino got a rousing ovation, in a ring surrounded by ROH talent.

ROH is scarily like TNA in too many ways, and five minutes after watching the ROH TV show, I hear how the former Tag Team Champions never lost the belts directly. Just like EC Carter in TNA.

What’s frightening about ROH and TNA is that they remain the shadows of all that is professional wrestling. There was a day when wrestling meant different things to different regions, fans and promotions, but these days the aping of the 800 lb gorilla is the only thing anyone gets.

And everyone wonders why no one cares.

Booking was on display when I watched, the kind I griped about earlier in this piece.

The glaring example is Moose vs Donovan Dijak.

Moose, who’s entrance, chant and look are all different, all interesting, but there’s a problem when you establish the up-and-coming guy, who’s big and bad and dangerous and a little green, by placing him in the ring with a guy that’s a bit bigger and also up-and-coming and big and bad and dangerous.

The ongoing issue with ROH is that they can’t get anyone over.

So they introduce two big guys, have them do flip dives and high-flying stuff, and then … well, what was the point of these two guys on a free TV match where one wins, the other loses, but what’s the point.

What’s worse, and I hate to rip on Jay Lethal and Roderick Strong, but what’s worse is the dialogue between Lethal and Strong and the setup for the TV Title match.

Did I hear Jay Lethal says that he wrestled Roderick Strong a “thousand times”?

How much worse can it be? Imagine I’m a wrestling fan who never watched ROH, and I hear the Champion (who, by the way, is merely aping the “I’ve got two belts” gimmick of the WWE) say that he’s not wanting to wrestle another guy, because he wrestled him a “thousand times”, which is the biggest problem in the business with the static rosters, but …

But that’s not all.

While it was clever, we end up getting that match, just not for the Heavyweight title.

We get it for the TV Title, thanks to some interesting but ultimately goofy logic from Nigel McGuiness.

In the end, the Ring of Honor Champion looks like a chump, the challenger looks like old news, the promotion looks foolish, and having one man have two Championships is just unrealistic, and no matter how much of a gimmick is involved, it cheapens it all.

Think about this for all the cleverness of the Strong vs Lethal TV Title match: there was no TV Title #1 contender until Nigel declared Roderick Strong as the #1 contender. What does that mean for ROH? What does that mean for pecking order, levels of talent or the meaning of any given match in this promotion?

I like Jay Lethal a lot, but giving him two belts as a way to prove his worth (instead of tying him into being the protégé of Samoa Joe, or tying him to the glory years of Gabe Sapolsky, or portraying him as the greatest wrestler around weren’t good enough… but copying what isn’t working at the WWE level… yeah, that’s the way to go!)

As if starting to push two new guys who would tower over the Champion wasn’t the first problem.
As if having a bunch of potential challengers, but not focusing on any one of them as THE Challenger, but many (Elgin, AJ Styles, Strong, Moose, etc) hasn’t plagued the promotion for years.

Really, having a half-dozen interchangeable guys means that no one gets over, not even the Champion, and doesn’t really give anyone a reason to watch.

Does it?

MassRafTer posted:

You get home on a Sunday night and all you want to do is go back to reading Babinsacks. This is my favorite.


It hits all the highlights. Bragging that he gets free stuff? Bruno name drop? All there. Bizarre rant about ROH ripping off WWE by giving Jay Lethal two belts, now that's Joe.

super macho dude posted:

The one sentence paragraphs are driving me banana

SamuraiFoochs posted:

Who IS Babinsack, exactly?

super macho dude posted:

OldTennisCourt posted:

Wait, when was Creature of the Night ever a thing?

MassRafTer posted:

You get home on a Sunday night and all you want to do is go back to reading Babinsacks. This is my favorite.


It hits all the highlights. Bragging that he gets free stuff? Bruno name drop? All there. Bizarre rant about ROH ripping off WWE by giving Jay Lethal two belts, now that's Joe.