Dusty ‘The American Dream’ Rhodes did it his way
The world of professional wrestling has lost an icon. That word is thrown around far more often than it should be, but few in the universe that wrestling has created for itself are more deserving.
The WWE announced that Virgil Riley Runnels, Jr., better known to the world as Dusty Rhodes, passed away Thursday. He was 69.
Rhodes was completely atypical in nearly every way. By the standards to which we hold other legends, he was nothing special to look at. He was 6 feet tall and nearly 300 pounds, with a curly, bleach-blonde pooch cut often hidden by an oversized cowboy hat. If you knew nothing about pro wrestling beyond the figures that have transcended the world of the WWE, this guy would sound like a dud. But what he lacked in physique, he more than compensated for in flare, attention to detail, and his ability to work a crowd when placed within a mile of a microphone.
Billed as the “son of a plumber,’’ the Austin, Texas native played the role to a tee. He was so convincing as an everyman, meat-and-potatoes character that somehow, traces of him can be heard in nearly every great wrestler to come after him. You don’t get Stone Cold Steve Austin’s “Gimme a hell yeah,’’ The Rock’s “If ya smell what The Rock is cookin,’’ or Daniel Bryan’s “Yes!’’ without the man who gave us what may very well be the single greatest promo ever.
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[fragment number=1]A white Southerner with a distinct drawl, a potbelly, and little to no business on the top rope in the ring, Rhodes was talented enough to make the DDT a signature move. He carried on a long rivalry with Ric Flair, and there were times when he did most of the carrying in his feud with the great Nature Boy. He’s enshrined in both the WWE and the National Wrestling Alliance halls of fame, and was a force behind the scenes at WWE until very recently, as a creative writer for both WWE television programming and NXT, WWE’s developmental territory. His two sons, Cody “Stardust’’ Rhodes and Dustin “Goldust’’ Rhodes, currently wrestle for WWE.
In what had to be a dream come true for all three of them, he managed to cut a few segments with them.
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Professional wrestling may be living on borrowed time. Its main weekly draws, Monday Night Raw and Smackdown on Thursdays, struggle to grow, and often just to keep, viewer numbers. Many of the feuds and storylines are either tired retreads of old tropes, or doomed by a lack of convincing characters, or both. There are issues of safety and stakeholder whims. With the departure of CM Punk, there are worries about the ages and outside obligations of wrestling’s biggest stars. It has persistent issues involving race and gender. Many of those problems are holdovers from when Rhodes ruled the roost with Flair, Hogan and others.
But for as long as it exists, wrestling owes a debt to Dusty Rhodes, the Common Man in the polka dots.
I was born in 1988, a few years after one of his best matches with Flair, and eight years prior to his amazing match at the Great American Bash in ‘96. I discovered Rhodes’ true heyday like the rest of the YouTube generation. While I spent my prime wrestling years idolizing Triple H, Sting, and D-Low Brown, Rhodes, in the moments I saw him then, and in the time I spent with archival footage, was larger than life. He remains an archetype of the type of lightning that pro wrestling continuously hopes to catch in a bottle.
Wrestling has long been billed as a soap opera for men and boys, and even though women have their own division and loyal fanbases, that will probably always be true. But stop and think of your experience rooting for or against any wrestler. You didn’t hate Shane McMahon because of his finisher. You didn’t hate him due to the sheer preppiness of his sweater vests. You hated him because of his persona. You loved Stone Cold because he was a beer swilling, bird flipping badass, and you loved Kevin Nash because The nWo were just too sweet.
It isn’t that wrestling was devoid of persona before–or even during–Rhodes’ time at the top. Hulk Hogan still gets major applause. Stone Cold had to quelch rumors of his return this past week. And televised audiences are still good for a CM Punk chant now and again.
Wrestling will always be overrun with big egos and characters. But it speaks volumes that very few were as great–or as natural–as Rhodes. We may never see another wrestler with his gift. May he rest in peace.
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