Pro wrestling focuses on racial stereotypes

Web posted August 8, 1998

Associated Press

ATLANTA -- The noise is deafening as the crowd sing-songs `'Gold-berg, Gold-berg,'' praising the new heavyweight champion, who holds the shiny title belt from World Championship Wrestling over his bald head and releases his terrifying war cry.

Fans of all races wave signs screaming, ``Will You Marry Me Goldberg?,'' ``Goldberg Rules!,'' and ``Goldberg, Nice Jewish Boy!''

Like phantom leg drops and well-choreographed body slams, racial stereotypes have always been a part of professional wrestling.

Dress up an Arab like a sheik and put him in the ring against a flag-waving patriot. Suit up a Russian-looking guy like a Soviet soldier and have him pummeled by an all-American hero. Use racist code-terms to describe black wrestlers: back-alley fighter, street-tough brawler.

The 1990s version of professional wrestling, undergoing a surge of popularity thanks to Ted Turner's marketing, is still a testosterone-driven soap opera with ridiculously fake violence, but the wrestlers are more diverse, and so is the crowd.

Each wrestling circuit has had token minorities for decades, but they were usually reinforcing racist stereotypes or playing second fiddle to the blue-eyed champs like Hulk Hogan and Ric Flair. Now, some of the top wrestlers are black, Hispanic or Jewish, and they regularly get a chance to pummel the pretty boys.

And wrestlers say the fans -- all but a handful -- love it.

``You get a few rednecks out there, they can't even pronounce Chavo,'' said Chavo Guerrero of Turner's World Championship Wrestling. ``I don't care. I get a rise out of them. I say, 'Thank you, call me anything that you want, but you just paid my house payment.'''

Atlanta-based WCW has been soaring in popularity after the company began signing the top talent away from its main competitor, the World Wrestling Federation, which made Mr. Hogan, Rowdy Roddy Piper and Randy ``Macho Man'' Savage stars in the 1980s.

The competing Monday night shows have been battling to be cable's top-rated program for months, with both of them getting higher ratings than ``real'' sports and the popular South Park on Comedy Central.

Both companies are doing it with a lineup that features star wrestlers of all creeds and colors.

Bill Goldberg, a football star at the University of Georgia whose pro career was ended by injury, has become one of WCW's most popular wrestlers. He says he hasn't heard many racist taunts, or felt pressure from organizers to change his name.

``It's nice to be taken in by the Jewish community, but that's not my goal,'' said Mr. Goldberg, who defeated Mr. Hogan to win the title. ``My goal is to go out there and beat people up.''

The Goldberg-Hogan battle drew more than 39,000 fans to Atlanta's Georgia Dome, and millions more watch each month on cable or pay-per-view.

And not all of the fans are beer-swilling, blue-collar white males. Families of all races, students wearing fraternity and sorority T-shirts and professionals are staying tuned each week -- and some bold ones are even talking about it around the water cooler.

``You pretty much have to watch it every time it's on TV or you'll miss something. It's like a soap opera,'' said Tim Cobb, 33, of Marietta.

Attending a WCW show in the Georgia Dome for the second time in a year, 10-year-old Lance Browning proudly predicted that his man, Mr. Goldberg, would crush Mr. Hogan.

``He can beat anybody, everybody, anytime, anywhere,'' said Lance, one of the many black children screaming for Mr. Goldberg.

And while the face of the audience is changing, so is the face of the wrestlers -- albeit slowly.

Booker T and Stevie Ray make up the brother tag-team combination called Harlem Heat.

``I tell black people, don't be discouraged in wrestling, there's too few of us in there,'' said Booker T, WCW's television champion. ``Now they got Booker T out there and everybody's loving him and now they say, 'I want to do that.' Maybe 10 years from now, we'll see a whole lot more.''

And the WCW has been adding more Hispanics and Asians, who are known for their high-wire acrobatics in the ring in contrast to the sheer power of the larger wrestlers.

But some critics say wrestling is a racist business.

Bobby ``Hardwork'' Walker is suing WCW for racial discrimination, saying he was passed over for opportunities in favor of white performers. He claims he was told he was a token black and would never be scripted to win a belt. He complained about being told to lose matches to less-talented white wrestlers.

``They treated him wrong because of his race. We think that's a pervasive problem throughout WCW,'' said Mr. Walker's attorney, Louis Cohan of Atlanta.

It wasn't until six years ago that a black man won a world heavyweight wrestling title, when Ron Simmons won the WCW title.

``I have not experienced hard-core racism. Everything that I got I got because I worked for it -- not because I'm black,'' said Mr. Simmons, now known as Faarooq in the WWF. ``I wasn't brought in as a favorite for anyone,''

Booker T, whose real name is Booker T. Huffman, said he knows that black children need role models of color -- and black wrestlers can do that by refusing to become stereotypes.

``I'm trying to give a different image to wrestling and to black wrestlers because I feel like we need to set standards,'' he said.

Abdullah the Butcher was a walking stereotype when he was a wrestler. Known as the Wild Man of Sudan, his head butt was one of the most feared weapons in wrestling in the '70s and early '80s.

Blacks weren't the only group with a token stereotype wrestler. There was ``Chief'' Jay Strongbow, who wore a big headdress; The Iron Sheik, particularly hated during the Iran hostage crisis; and Mr. Fugi, a sneaky Asian.

``I heard rasslers call me names behind the back, but I was Abdullah the Butcher. I was the top,'' said Abdullah, who actually is from Canada and now owns a rib joint south of Atlanta.

``I would like to see more black wrestlers, more Mexican wrestlers, more Indian wrestlers, but it goes back to the same thing -- you have to draw people. Green, black, purple, whatever, you've got to draw,'' said Adbullah, whose real name is Larry Shreeve.

Booker T and Stevie Ray (whose real name is Lane Huffman), told WCW organizers they were not going just to be token blacks. They were assured it wouldn't be that way, but when the organizers tried to get them to change their names to Kain and Kole, they fought it.

``I couldn't relate with it. It had nothing to do with being black,'' Booker T said. ``I'm from Harlem, why would my name be Kain? My name's Booker T.''

Mr. Hogan said he's never thought about whether minority wrestlers were mistreated.

``Minorities? I've never really noticed it,'' he said. ``It doesn't matter if you're black, yellow, white or red. If you're good, you get a shot at it.''