We Made ’Em Look Good

By Art Crews and Judy Burleigh-Crews

The story told by Art Crews through Judy Burleigh-Crews occurred more than twenty years ago but
is a gut-wrenching story by one who was in the world of professional wrestling in its heyday. Art
is brutally honest and gets down and dirty about happenings in professional wrestling and his
wrestling career. He takes you to his dreams of becoming a professional wrestler and concludes with a
very heart-tugging ending. He dispels much of the kayfabe, which was cardinal to all in the profession.
He recalls distrustful, prevalent jealousy and goes into detail about the sickness that affected many
wrestlers.
From the young boy from Kansas, a poignant story emerges that speaks volumes for countless
wrestlers, himself included, who didnt make it to the apex of stardom. Throughout the book are
amusing anecdotes and also lamentations of deaths of wrestling friends. Art also shares a barrage
of never-before-published personal photographs, along with numerous others taken by his coauthor

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493182367

Book preview

cover.jpg

Copyright © 2014 by Art Crews with Judy Burleigh-Crews.

Library of Congress Control Number:              2014904883

ISBN:              Hardcover:            978-1-4931-8237-4

             Softcover:                       978-1-4931-8238-1

             eBook:                            978-1-4931-8236-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 05/16/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

542185

CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgments

A Special Comment

Prologue

Chapter One

Dreams And Smoke Screens

Chapter Two

The Breach Of Kayfabe And Other Cardinal Rules

Chapter Three

Gentlemen, We’ve Paid Our Dues

Chapter Four

Guys Just Wanna Have Fun

Chapter Five

The Rules Are Different When You Call It Wrestling

Chapter Six

The Real Mccoys

Chapter Seven

Can You Believe That They Even Said That?

Chapter Eight

The Marks’ Glossary Of Wrestling Terms And Definitions

Chapter Nine

For Better Or For Worse, Folks, It’s Wrestling

Chapter Ten

Where Are They And What Are They Doing Now?

Chapter Eleven

Advice: Some Wanted, Some Not

Chapter Twelve

In Loving Memory Of My Departed Wrestling Brothers

Chapter Thirteen

We Made ’Em Look Good

Epilogue

About The Authors

In the ring, wrestlers remain gods because

they are, for a few moments, the key which opens

Nature, the pure gesture which separates

Good from Evil, and unveils the form of a justice

which is at last intelligible.

—French literary critic,

Roland Barthes (1915-1980)

I am a god among men.

—Triple H, p. 205,

Body Slams! In Your Face Insults From the World of Pro Wrestling, Glenn Leibman

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ART CREWS MADE THE FRONT PAGES OF HIS AREA, HANNIBAL, MISSOURI, NEWSPAPER AT A VERY EARLY AGE.

HE HOPED THAT IT WAS A HARBINGER OF THINGS TO COME.

DEDICATION

I, Art, lovingly dedicate this book to Judy, because it grew from a small idea in the back of her mind to the wonderfully finished product that it has become. I also lovingly dedicate this book to my children, namely, Kristy Crews Scott, Arthur Wayne A. J. Crews Jr., Ashlee Elizabeth Crews, and Alexis Nicole Crews. Also, not to be forgotten are my three grandsons, Chance, Dillon, and Wyatt.

I, Judy, lovingly dedicate this book to Art, because he really was my inspiration. We were always laughing and reminiscing about different episodes, people, ribs, and things that we both witnessed during many years of attending wrestling matches and from knowing firsthand the different personalities in the business. I also lovingly dedicate this book to my daughters, Brandy Nicole Burleigh Fontenot and Meredith Anne Burleigh, and to my wonderful grandson and best boy, Ian Burleigh Guidroz.

Finally, we both dedicate this book to all the wrestlers, whether named or not, who in any way contributed to the enormous task of putting someone else over, and by doing so offered their bodies as sacrifices for the gesture. This may well be the only recognition that they will ever get. It is, however, heartfelt on our part and a gesture well past due.

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All packed up and ready to go to the matches.

(Photo by Judy Burleigh-Crews)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, we acknowledge and thank God for the inspiration that He gave us to write this book. We also thank Him for the many abundant blessings that He continues to grace our lives with.

Secondly, we both thank our respective families for putting up with the demands that it took for us to complete this work. Oftentimes all they heard from us was nonstop banter back and forth about different stories and personalities.

We also would like to thank the wrestlers mentioned in this book for their friendship, camaraderie, and for their efforts in making wrestling the entertainment/sport that it was and is. Recollections that are indelibly printed in our minds of their stories and their antics truly put this story in perspective and literally put the icing on the cake. And boy, what a unique cake it is!

Last, but certainly not least, we thank the myriads of wrestling fans who faithfully came to our matches, cheered us on even though we oftentimes had to lose, and who helped us make ’em look good.

A Special Comment

by Judy Burleigh-Crews

Pretty much has been written about professional wrestling at this juncture and time—beginning with the history of wrestling and continuing all throughout the years, biographies of many wrestling superstars who seemingly made it to the pinnacles of success, and still other books by wrestlers not really having much of a story to tell at all.

However, not much has been said, mentioned, or written about the many wrestlers who had athletic ability and good looks, fan popularity, and everything else that the superstars had, but for some reason or another just couldn’t or didn’t make it to the top.

This book is written by an ex-professional wrestler who certainly had the necessary athletic ability, who certainly had drop-dead good looks as well as persona, and who certainly had far above average intelligence. Yet despite all this, he didn’t quite get the push he needed to make it to the top. This is his story. And somehow, I can’t help but feel that it is the story of all the many other unnamed and oftentimes unrecognized wrestlers who didn’t make it to the top but managed to make ’em look good.

This one is for all of you.

PROLOGUE

Once upon a time in America’s heartland, where everything is oftentimes seen as flat and ugly but still sometimes labeled by others as being seasonally beautiful with its flowing, sun-kissed wheat fields, there lived a young boy. This young boy, who was not yet even a teenager, simply dared to dream a dream. His dream could have ended right there, merely a dream. But it didn’t—and therein lies our tale.

Little then did the young boy know, but fate had much more in store for him than wishful thinking and wanderlust. During his lifetime journey, he happened upon many paths, which led him to various people and events and, of course, to ultimate destiny-fulfilling choices that he had to make.

But while he was still a young boy, he dared to dream the dream of becoming a professional wrestler. He dared to dream of marvelous times when wrestling fans, both young and old alike, would approach him and ask for his autograph or perhaps even ask to take a picture of him or with him. Yes, he dared to dream this dream, which some may have thought foolish, but he didn’t care. It was his dream.

When the dream ultimately became a reality and he did become a professional wrestler, his work and travel brought him to many venues, from the smallest outdoor arenas to some of the largest and most modern facilities in the world. He could still recall many of these places and even some of the people at them. He came to realize that the largest wrestling arenas weren’t always destined to be the best ones in many, many ways.

Sure, he always hoped to make it big, but moreover, he always wanted to remember who he was before his dream materialized and vowed never to forget his roots or where he came from. He also strongly believed in himself and his God-given abilities and ultimately found that dreams do come true in the real world and not just in fairy tales.

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Muscle Man Art Crews, aged eight years, dreaming of things to come.

(Photo by Art Crews)

He wanted to be a mentor, a role model, someone whom youngsters could look up to and admire. He wanted always to have time for them. He vowed to always make time for them.

He never wanted to get to a point in his career where he would be too busy or too egotistical to take time for them as he had seen happen with other wrestlers in the business. Even back then, this seemed somehow very important to him.

When he was still in his wrestling infancy, an event took place that was immensely profound, and the wrestler unknowingly kept it tucked away somewhere in the hallways of his mind. However, short flashes of it sometimes returned and oftentimes least of all when he expected them to.

He remembered a particular arena in his home state of Kansas where a young mother came to the matches and brought her son along with her. The wrestler happened to be in the corridor warming up for his match when the mother came up to him and asked for an autograph and if she could please take a picture of her son with the wrestler, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Well, it certainly wasn’t.

Her son was an adorable lad, and to the best of the wrestler’s recollection, the little boy’s name might have been Timmy… and Timmy had big dreams too.

The wrestler called the little boy over to sit down beside him on the steps, and he and Timmy chatted for a little while. The wrestler recalled very clearly during all this time how the little boy looked at him with eyes the size of saucers and seemed in as much awe of him as he would have been if the wrestler were Santa Claus or someone of that stature.

Ironically, just as the mother was taking her photograph, another person came up behind her and he too took a picture of the wrestler and Timmy spending time together, simply talking and hanging out. The other photographer turned out to be a newspaper reporter, and the photograph was featured in the local newspaper. The wrestler read the article, put it away with his other mementos, and really forgot about the article, but the time spent with Timmy stayed with him.

Not realizing the profoundness of this simple well-meaning gesture on the part of the wrestler meeting with the little boy and the impact it would subsequently have on the wrestler and his life, it wasn’t until years later that the realization of that moment from the past hit him like a freight train.

Timmy became the innocent and awe-inspiring little face the wrestler saw in each and every young child at his matches for years to come. In Timmy’s eyes, the wrestler saw what he wanted each and every young boy or girl to think of when they saw him and met him.

In one of the greatest paradoxes of his life, and through and during that short-lived moment in time, the wrestler realized that little Timmy actually became his hero just as little Timmy imagined and believed that the wrestler was his.

Chapter One

DREAMS AND SMOKE SCREENS

I believe that professional wrestling is clean and everything else in the world is fixed.

—Frank Deford, p. 221, Body Slams!, In Your Face Insults From the World of Pro Wrestling, Glenn Leibman

I was born January 3, 1959, in Topeka, Kansas, and grew up in rural Meriden, Kansas, which is a small town some fifteen miles northeast of Topeka. I am the only child of Edward Wayne Crews and Elizabeth Ellen Mulanex. I was named after my mother’s grandfather, Arthur Sportsman, and my dad, Edward Wayne Crews. I am Arthur Wayne Crews Sr., but I wrestled professionally under the names of Art Crews, the Kansas Cowboy, Art the Animal Crews, one-half of the tag team known as the Dream Team, Mr. Arthur W. (for winner, of course) Crews, and lastly, as the Blond Bomber.

From the time that I was a youngster with big dreams and probably still believed in the tooth fairy, I had the overwhelming illusion and unmitigated belief that professional wrestling was one of the greatest and most exciting sporting events that I had ever witnessed or seen.

My mom, known affectionately to everyone as Billie, was a mark back then even if she or I didn’t know what a mark was. I mean, she loved wrestling! And she would sit and cheer for her favorites as loud as or louder

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Very early photograph of Art Crews, approximately ten months of age,

with his mother, Billie Crews Cox. (Photo by Art Crews)

than anyone else in the building. And don’t for a minute even lean in the direction that wrestling was not real, or you were in for the argument of your life. You know, I guess for all practical purposes, I was a mark back then too.

We would drive almost two hours to see matches in St. Joseph, Missouri, where the two of us would cheer for our favorite wrestlers. At first, my dad would not come. He absolutely refused. He later relented and finally came but not before his son was a professional wrestler whom he then proudly came to see.

My mom was a vivacious, spirited woman who would let you know if she liked you or didn’t in a matter of minutes. Without a doubt, believe me, you knew. She was a far cry from the 1950s June Cleaver who stayed at home, did housework, wore a crisp cotton apron, and lived in a cute