Rock 'n' Wrestling: Barely Legal

I was paging through a random wrestling magazine at the store one day when I came across

Ian & Axl Rotten's bloody rivalry was my introduction
to ECW.

some photos depicting an unbelievably violent spectacle. These pictures defied everything I had previously seen in professional wrestling. Two bigger guys with a vaguely punk look appeared to be in a literal fight to the death! They were beating each other to the bloodiest of bloody pulps, going far beyond simply using folding chairs to inflict punishment. I saw broken glass and all sorts of foreign objects cluttering up the ring as these lunatics bashed themselves senseless with baseball bats wrapped in barbed wire and fell through ringside tables! Who in the blue hell were these guys? Why were they doing this? How could a wrestling company allow this to happen? What was becoming of the True Sport of Kings? Furthermore, how could I see more?

Their names were Axl & Ian Rotten. This was just another match in the feud taking place in

an East Coast indie promotion aptly named Extreme Championship Wrestling.

"These are human pit bulls!" 

ECW began seeing more exposure in the magazines throughout 1995 and ’96 with the strangest roster I had ever seen. Axl & Ian appeared to be the resident ersatz punks while

New Jack represented wrestling's gangsta
rap sect effectively.

New Jack was an angry-looking black dude believably representing the gangsta rap sect. Balls Mahoney looked just like the psychopath you never wanted to encounter at a metal show. I was particularly amused upon seeing photos of a supposed ‘wrestler’ who made his arrival while puffing on cigarettes and chugging down Budweisers—an out-of-shape Philadelphia redneck named the Sandman. Gorilla Monsoon probably would have suggested that none of these misfits knew a wrist lock from a wrist watch, but a deeper look into ECW showed a different side. Shane Douglas had gone nowhere as a goody-two-shoes babyface in the WWF and WCW, but reinvented himself in ECW. Now Douglas was the Franchise, a delusional foul-mouth spewing tirades against respected legends like Ric Flair while emulating him in the ring. Steve Austin stopped by for a coffee break and found the makings of the iconic “Stone Cold” persona that brought him fame & fortune in the WWF. Virtually all of WCW’s cruiserweight roster—Rey Mysterio, Dean Malenko, Eddy Guerrero, Chris Jericho, etc.—had wowed ECW audiences before ascending to the big time! This strange little promotion was right up my alley; it had the vibe of a regional underground music scene with amazing live bands that had yet to release their first records. You had to be there to see it and you were envious of the people who could talk about it firsthand.

ECW wasn't all blood & guts, as evident by this classic encounter

between Eddy Guerrero & Dean Malenko.

Business picked up when ECW wrestlers interrupted the opening match on the WWF’s Mind Games PPV in 1996, prompting announcer Jerry Lawler to call them out on Monday Night Raw. Lawler name checked former WCW manager Paul E. Dangerously as the promotion’s owner. That was interesting, but my jaw dropped when the King revealed the promoter’s real name—Paul Heyman. I hadn’t heard that name since the ‘80s when Heyman was the editor of Wrestling Power, a magazine I read as a kid! Wrestling Power ran the bloodiest photos of any publication around, so it made perfect sense that Heyman now ran the promotion primarily known for its blood & guts approach. Paul E. Dangerously was also one of my favorite wrestling managers when he was with WCW. I missed his presence and was happy to see him back in the fold.

Paul Heyman & Jerry Lawler in a verbal joust regarding ECW's
place in the wrestling industry on Monday Night Raw.

Paul E answered Lawler’s call and before long, ECW wrestlers were actually appearing on Monday Night Raw. Not only that, but they were wrestling in the WWF ring too! These occasions were building to a momentous occasion—these crazy SOBs had actually managed to get clearance for their first PPV event! This was huge news to those of us who lived outside of the northeast and didn’t get to watch ECW.  Barely Legal took place in April of 1997 just a couple weeks after my 19^th birthday. Seeing ECW for the first time was exciting after reading about it in the magazines for the past two years. Most of the matches weren’t nearly as violent as the

articles would have had you believe, but they cut a much more blistering pace than your average WCW main event. Wrestlers who hadn’t made their mark on the Big Two promotions were shining bright on this island of misfit toys. I recognized some faces and others just looked vaguely familiar. Terry Funk was even on hand to challenge Raven for the ECW world championship—did the 52-year-old legend and former NWA champion have one more world title win in him?

ECW also drew a raucous crowd who faithfully attended each show, usually sitting in the same seats every time. They were sarcastic assholes like us, demanding more from their wrestling—more violence, more bloodshed, and more death-defying moves performed at a faster pace. Lots of them subscribed to insider newsletters like the Wrestling Observer and traded videos, so they knew their stuff—they’d seen all the grapplers and high-fliers imported from Japan and Mexico long before they made their mark on American soil. ECW fans voiced their opinions loudly. They even laughingly jeered wrestlers for occasionally screwing up in the ring, chanting “YOU FUCKED UP!” at the top of their lungs. Imagine being the wrestler

Fans like "Faith No More Guy" and "Hat Guy" were longtime
Philadelphia wrestling attendees that were often caught on
camera at both WWF & WCW live events.

on the receiving end of that cascade! Although they came off as insensitive, bloodthirsty maniacs, many ECW showgoers were actually longtime Philadelphia wrestling attendees that WWF and WCW cameras often picked up at live events. Both of the Big Two promotions had engaged in a territorial war over Philadelphia since the ‘80s and they took those fans’ opinions seriously—whether they admitted it or not. These die-hard fans slowly influenced crowds all over the country to be more boisterous and interactive, compelling both the WWF and WCW to alter their approach to professional wrestling’s presentation.

TV ad for Barely Legal's video release.

Although ECW was certainly a different product, Barely Legal took me aback by how familiar it all seemed. I soon remembered watching wrestling as a little kid when the shows usually took place in a TV studio or smaller arenas, noting that this actually wasn’t much different from that old school approach. ECW was simply ‘70s and ‘80s studio wrestling filtered through a ‘90s grunge and gangsta rap perspective. Hit songs from the likes of WHITE ZOMBIE, METALLICA, the OFFSPRING, ALICE IN CHAINS, and DR. DRE all supplied ECW’s soundtrack and it worked like a charm—similar to when the WWF began raiding the pop charts during their (ahem) Rock ‘n’ Wrestling era. I wasn’t a fan of most of the bands they used, but I did appreciate that ECW at least attempted to reach fans like me. Much better than WCW’s horrible stock music covers of NIRVANA and PEARL JAM introducing the likes of Diamond Dallas Page and Chris Jericho!

ECW's use of contemporary music was never better than when

the Sandman made his entrance to (what else) "Enter Sandman."

Sometimes I watch an old ECW show and think about those days; it boggles my mind that this ragtag Philadelphia indie promotion took on a wrestling industry backed by billionaires and changed it for good with a motley crew of workers and 1500 angry fans. I didn’t care when WCW folded in 2001, but ECW going under left me with a feeling similar to that of when my favorite bands broke up or local music venues suddenly shut down. Many promotions since then have emulated ECW to varying extents, but none of them will ever come close to filling that void. That was a time and a place that I do not think today’s environment can (or should) duplicate.