I was at a local shopping centre yesterday, when my wife pointed out I was blocking the way of a lady pushing a shopping trolley. Moving out of the way, I heard my wife exclaim “wow, what a large trophy’. The two women started to chat, so I took the chance to look at the trophy, in the trolley and no, it wasn’t a wrestling trophy, but one for Irish dancing. I noticed the name of the trophy was Donlevy and I remarked to the lady that it had an appropriate name and she started to chat about the Irish (unsurprisingly she was Irish). After a couple of minutes, the time seemed to be right for me to tell my tale of my dad and I following the Donlevy brothers around Brighton a few hours before they were to appear that evening at the Brightest stadium. (Early 60s). This made me recall, how at social gatherings in my 30s and beyond, talking to strangers:and with the conversation drying up between a group of men, I would casually say something like “ I’m taking / I took, my son to see the the wrestling at….” Without fail, the men gathering would take turns regaling all with stories about seeing particular wrestlers on the television, or attending wrestling at venues such as Working men’s clubs or different arenas. I don’t remember any dissenting voices or disparaging comments and usually the subject was discussed longer than an other was. So, how did Heritage members bring up the subject, particularly with strangers, what sort of reaction did you receive? I’m hoping that some members will recall conversations long forgotten.

I’ve endeavoured to answer our Anglo’s very original question. As I attended the Sydney Stadium more times than any other venue, I’ve chosen the ‘Old Barn’. Good balanced bill. Early Sydney Stadium bills, had at least two or more mismatches, due to the fact that JimBarnett’s American wrestling commenced doing business with a limited number of workers. Aussie talent (who were good, we just didn’t know it, because they were there simply as cannon fodder, to make the visitors look much superior to the home grown workers). Later, when the promotion had taken off and had become one of the most talented of its style) the bills were loaded. I don’t believe I actually saw any posters, as most of the matches for the coming week was heavily advertised on the previous weekends t.v. wrestling. Finding your seat, could be a nightmare. The rows of benches (there were some rows of chairs at ringside, if I remember correctly), were in sections labeled A-Z, the sections then were also labeled a-z and numbered. The Stadium audience was a huge mix of nationalities, Greeks, Italians, Germans, Hungarians, Austrians and other Europeans. Many of these were hard working new immigrants. I always had trouble finding my seat, the attendants were few and far between and once the promotion caught fire, the attendances would be 10,000 and over. Many of these new Aussies would look at their ticket, see a seat number and sit themselves down on the first seat of that number they could find, regardless of what SECTION they were in. Working class men, with different language, would invariably start arguing and or many occasions fights would occur. There was also a problem, in that for most of the tiered Stadium, there were gaps under the bench seating, the further up the back you went, the deeper the ground underneath became. Drop any of your valuables, you had to find an attendant and hope you could pin-point where you were sitting, while searching a huge cavernous space, by torchlight, while thousands of feet stomped above you. Slamin’ Sammy Menacker, one time wrestler was the front man of the operation and M.C. He usually wore a blazer or blazers that looked similar on each outings. On one occasion, I was present when he turned out in a decidedly different looking jacket, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when a heel tore the jacket top pocket, leading to, you’ve guessed it a challenge match between Sam and baddie, the next week. Sam won his match. I don’t know who kept time and it did seem to be an afterthought on many occassions. First matches were usually of 15 min. duration, many times going the full distance, so the timekeeping would be pretty close to the mark. Once you got into the 30 and 60 min. mark well, all bets were off. On every visit I made between 1964 and ‘70 when the time was called during a match, their were incredulous, sometimes angry remarks shouted by patrons, enjoying the first 15 minutes of a 30 min.match, only to be informed ‘five minutes left’ or after twenty mins. of an hours main event, ‘45 minutes gone’. No serious timekeeping. There were seconds in the corners, usually mostly invisible. Usherettes? Choke! MC. We are back to Slammin’ Sam. Once saved one of the great villains, Ray Stevens, from being kayoed by John DaSilva. Sprinting around the other side of the ring and lifting the groggy Stevens who must have landed badly on the concrete floor (the ring was pretty high off the ground and there were no mats, just concrete) and bundling him back into the ring, under the bottom rope, while a panicking ref. tried gallantly to toll to from the ten second mark to the bewitching 20 count, whilst taking a good minute and a half to achieve it (he gave up sometime after the count of 15. Meanwhile, Big John, standing in his corner, must have been wondering if he was going to get the biggest win of his career, whilst destroying the promotions’ number one villain who’d only just arrived in the country. Possibly the only time a staunchly blue-eye MC saved the villain during a wrestling match. St John's Ambulance in attendance. Was in da house, somewhere. Were needed when Vince Montana chucked Big John Marshall onto a large lady in the front row. Fault-free PA. I don’t recall any problems with such, except the time when they thought they would be smart and put a Mic. under the ring, so the slams and landings etc, would sound louder. They switched it off very sharp-ish when a chorus of ‘turn off the mic.’ rang out, which was curious, as the cat calls for proper timekeeping went unheeded. NO! No charity of any kind, was ever seen at the Sydney Stadium. Last note. Something Anglo didn’t touch on, the urinals. At the Stadium, three matches in, they were disgusting. I remember standing at one trough, when one relieving patron said to another. ‘Well, if it’s good enough for Sinatra, it’s good enough for me’!

We need A.I. to replace the Japanese audience and ref. for a 60s British one and uncle Kent waxing lyrical and we’re back in the flush of youth! Nice surprise celebrity guest at the end too. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5vwM1_S8qA

I was about to listen to the podcast and came across this. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1-oxLNLlpY&pp=0gcJCdgAo7VqN5tD