Memories
Chapter One: Army Men Toys To a Nationally Sold Wrestling Game
#PWHS #Article #Memories #FredBlassie
Part Three: Fred Blassie
There came a time that I thought the joy I was having, many other obsessed fans would probably love also. This led to my one time pride and joy called “Headlocks & Hiprolls”. I went about putting together a game where the fan could play a World-Wide Wrestling Commissioner version (100’s of games in an hour), or enjoy playing an individual match either against an opponent or play against the random results that would occur playing my charts.
I gathered artwork, researched box companies, and did my final tweaks to the charts that would lead me to be the next Parker Brothers I was hoping. I also wrote all the top game companies but got my friendly rejection letter from each. There were only about 2 other wrestling games being advertised at this same time, and I thought mine was so much better. All I needed now was to find something, or someone, to set Headlocks & Hiprolls apart from the others. This would be the most interesting experience of all.
My first stop was Richmond, Virginia, about 100 miles down the road from my hometown. I was going to succeed at my plans; defeat was never in my vocabulary. At this point I was still trying to find that path to success. Rich Landrum, announcer for World Wide Wrestling (Jim Crockett Promotions) met me for lunch as I shared my idea. But as far as I got with Rich was to find out that Rick Steamboat and Jay Youngblood were very nice gentlemen, and little else. I probably came across as a wide-eyed “mark” as Rich was my first close-up and personal meeting with someone of Pro Wrestling. Back to the drawing board.
I decided I needed someone that would be the voice that would immediately grab the wrestling audience’s attention so he could recommend my world-changing game. Someone that his picture in magazines, or his voice on TV ads, would all but guarantee that my game would at least be considered by that fan at home. All would be left then would be to decide which banks to put my millions in.
I found myself in Memphis for a few weeks as my career as a motivational speaker/singer had taken me there. My next plan started to be born and unveil itself as I walked out my steps of faith. A well-known record producer got me a free ticket to the great Mid-South Coliseum to watch the Monday night stars there in the squared circle. I decided to press my favor into a possible meeting with the King of Memphis, Jerry Lawler. In advance I composed the highlights of what I was hoping to accomplish with the right national spokesman. I got up the nerve to give an envelope to an usher at the heel’s dressing room and name-dropped that the record producer had given me a ticket so I could possibly meet with Mr Lawler.
What could he do, turn me away? I would still enjoy some great wrestling in one of the best venues of Pro Wrestling! I waited a short while and Jerry Lawler agreed to see me inside the heel’s door. We exchanged a few pleasantries; he gave me his personal business address and phone. I was surprised to see that it was not in Memphis, but I can’t remember where it was in Tennessee. He said he would look over my ideas and get back in touch with me. That was the last we spoke, but the wrestling was great.
The next part of this faith walk would be almost miraculous. About twelve or more years before I was one of those wrestling fans that became friends with people my age that had advertised for pen pals in monthly Wrestling magazines. Of the twenty or so I had corresponded with, there was a beautiful blonde from the Los Angeles area that I was particular “led” to write for some reason, lol. I would guess she had 100 or more write her as her picture just seemed to stand out among her peers. Got the picture?
We corresponded several times and she sent me her picture. I more than once showed it to others and said she was my girlfriend. Little did I know the part she would play in this story. She would tell me how she would spend countless hours on the beach with wrestlers such as John Tolos, Fred Blassie and others. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but what the heck, it was entertaining.
Advance the calendar fourteen years or so and my mind remembered Leslie and Fred Blassie. It was a million to one chance, but I wrote to the last address of Leslie; hoping against hope fate had her at the same address in this mobile generation in which we live. Fred was the one I wanted to be the spokesman for my game. I could make a cold call to him, but I was looking for his weak spot; what could I do to sweeten my chances of landing one of the greatest stars that ever set foot in the ring. I had only seen Fred on magazine covers and daydreamed for hours what it would be like to see him on TV week in and week out like I was now watching Ric Flair.
Since this is my miracle story, yes, Leslie still lived at the same address and even remembered me. And it was all true about her spending hours with stars like Tolos and Fred. She sent me special pictures with Fred wearing his WWA World Belt and so many more plus clippings. She thought my idea was great and became my number one fan in hoping Fred would say, “Yes”.
She told me my best chance was to play on Fred’s ego and use her name to get his attention. (I write this with mixed emotions because I mean no disrespect in the least to Fred. I never want to even taint in the least the life, or reputation, of Fred Blassie. He treated me like royalty every occasion I had to speak with him.) Wrestlers are approached at all times, by all kinds of people, for every reason under the sun. Leslie’s name was the buffer needed to get me to the front of Blassie’s attention. Pouring on the praise came natural to me because my praise was sincere. I sent my letters of praise and introduction to Madison Square Garden. Leslie had told me in detail how fan letters were handled at different arenas, but that MSG always delivered fan letters promptly to each and every wrestler. I sent the letters and waited to see how this would all play out.
Life doesn’t write itself in perfect chapters. While I was waiting to possibly hear from Fred, my game had to go forward. I put my first national ad in Wrestling World magazine and waited to see my millions pour in. It was a college course just to learn how magazines handled their ads. It wasn’t possible usually to advertise in just one magazine, but you normally had to advertise in like ten magazines; ten times the cost of what you would have figured. On my limited income, and no financial backers, Wrestling World became my favorite magazine for obvious reasons.
That first check from out of state to buy Headlocks and Hiprolls looked like a winning lottery ticket to me. My eighteen plus years of investment had paid off! It was fun to watch almost daily for awhile seeing checks and small notes from all over the United States. I even got thank you notes from people who thoroughly loved the game. A couple letters were heart-touching even though they were asking for a refund. Parents were apologizing while asking for their refund. Their 6 to 8 year old child had seen my ad, and begged their parents for the game. But, it was just too difficult for them as it had a suggested playing age of 12 or more and it seemed to be correct.
I probably broke even on that first ad, but I felt like a rich man. My many years of investment was now being enjoyed by households across the nation. Just when I thought it couldn’t get better, I got a phone call----a phone call with the very recognizable voice of THE Fred Blassie. He told me he had gotten my letter (I smiled-Leslie had led me right) and wanted to see me to sign the contract. I was one happy guy when I hung up the phone. I had set my goal, pursued it, and now it was going to be fulfilled.
Fred and I agreed to meet in Allentown, Pennsylvania at the WWWF TV tapings. My wife and I picked up 2 friends in Chambersburg and off to the matches. Fred got us in the side door while a long line of entering people wanted to know how we rated such attention. These were KAYFABE days, but Fred completely shocked me as he broke kayfabe in front of professional fans. He walked with the four of us and could be heard with a loud voice saying, “Get the Rev a good seat, give the Rev and his friends a seat”. Rev was Fred’s pet name for me because among the many hats I had worn in life, I also had traveled nationally as a licensed minister. He never called me Terry or Mr Kent; it was always, “Hey Rev, how ya doing?”
It was an exciting night to be at my first tv taping that would play out on my tv the next few weeks. I could hear some interviews being held in other parts of the building. Fred and I unceremoniously signed the contract behind the bleachers and he promised to send some pictures to use in magazine ads. We settled in for over 3 hours of mainly squash matches, but thoroughly enjoying ourselves. A quick good-bye to Fred and we traveled to Chambersburg for the night, reviewing all the night’s memories.
The next few weeks passed and Fred’s pictures came in. Fred looked great in his WWA World Heavyweight belt with his self-confident demeanor. It was time to make the game first class in its appearance and see what magazine was next, but this time with Fred as the “world-wide Pro Wrestling Hall of Famer” endorsing it unabashedly.
This is where I would love to tell you that Headlocks and Hiprolls became a constant ad you would see in all your favorite magazines. Fred and I stayed in touch for awhile as I kept him up to date in what was happening in my life. Seasons of life come and go, and I decided it was the season to once again start traveling nationally as “the Rev”. A person’s passion trumps out over minor dreams. Fred understood and never said one angry word toward me. He had followed his real passion and became the World Champion. I would like to believe even villainous Fred understood my investment into lives was more important to me overall, more than investing all my savings into a game to bring joy for a short season.
I hope you take away from this to believe in yourself. Chase your dreams. Don’t let anyone say you can’t do it. I changed the direction in my life to pursue deeply held personal beliefs. Beliefs that originated about the same time I had discovered my shoebox lid that magically transformed daily into a pro wrestling ring. It has brought to me the joy to have spoke into the lives of families in twenty-four states. I even had my fifteen minutes of fame in a male quartet I was in; we were considered for a Grammy Award. How’s that for an ending? I hope you enjoyed this long journey. May God bless each and every one of you! Who knows, this game may make a re-appearance some day.
I gathered artwork, researched box companies, and did my final tweaks to the charts that would lead me to be the next Parker Brothers I was hoping. I also wrote all the top game companies but got my friendly rejection letter from each. There were only about 2 other wrestling games being advertised at this same time, and I thought mine was so much better. All I needed now was to find something, or someone, to set Headlocks & Hiprolls apart from the others. This would be the most interesting experience of all.
My first stop was Richmond, Virginia, about 100 miles down the road from my hometown. I was going to succeed at my plans; defeat was never in my vocabulary. At this point I was still trying to find that path to success. Rich Landrum, announcer for World Wide Wrestling (Jim Crockett Promotions) met me for lunch as I shared my idea. But as far as I got with Rich was to find out that Rick Steamboat and Jay Youngblood were very nice gentlemen, and little else. I probably came across as a wide-eyed “mark” as Rich was my first close-up and personal meeting with someone of Pro Wrestling. Back to the drawing board.
I decided I needed someone that would be the voice that would immediately grab the wrestling audience’s attention so he could recommend my world-changing game. Someone that his picture in magazines, or his voice on TV ads, would all but guarantee that my game would at least be considered by that fan at home. All would be left then would be to decide which banks to put my millions in.
I found myself in Memphis for a few weeks as my career as a motivational speaker/singer had taken me there. My next plan started to be born and unveil itself as I walked out my steps of faith. A well-known record producer got me a free ticket to the great Mid-South Coliseum to watch the Monday night stars there in the squared circle. I decided to press my favor into a possible meeting with the King of Memphis, Jerry Lawler. In advance I composed the highlights of what I was hoping to accomplish with the right national spokesman. I got up the nerve to give an envelope to an usher at the heel’s dressing room and name-dropped that the record producer had given me a ticket so I could possibly meet with Mr Lawler.
What could he do, turn me away? I would still enjoy some great wrestling in one of the best venues of Pro Wrestling! I waited a short while and Jerry Lawler agreed to see me inside the heel’s door. We exchanged a few pleasantries; he gave me his personal business address and phone. I was surprised to see that it was not in Memphis, but I can’t remember where it was in Tennessee. He said he would look over my ideas and get back in touch with me. That was the last we spoke, but the wrestling was great.
The next part of this faith walk would be almost miraculous. About twelve or more years before I was one of those wrestling fans that became friends with people my age that had advertised for pen pals in monthly Wrestling magazines. Of the twenty or so I had corresponded with, there was a beautiful blonde from the Los Angeles area that I was particular “led” to write for some reason, lol. I would guess she had 100 or more write her as her picture just seemed to stand out among her peers. Got the picture?
We corresponded several times and she sent me her picture. I more than once showed it to others and said she was my girlfriend. Little did I know the part she would play in this story. She would tell me how she would spend countless hours on the beach with wrestlers such as John Tolos, Fred Blassie and others. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but what the heck, it was entertaining.
Advance the calendar fourteen years or so and my mind remembered Leslie and Fred Blassie. It was a million to one chance, but I wrote to the last address of Leslie; hoping against hope fate had her at the same address in this mobile generation in which we live. Fred was the one I wanted to be the spokesman for my game. I could make a cold call to him, but I was looking for his weak spot; what could I do to sweeten my chances of landing one of the greatest stars that ever set foot in the ring. I had only seen Fred on magazine covers and daydreamed for hours what it would be like to see him on TV week in and week out like I was now watching Ric Flair.
Since this is my miracle story, yes, Leslie still lived at the same address and even remembered me. And it was all true about her spending hours with stars like Tolos and Fred. She sent me special pictures with Fred wearing his WWA World Belt and so many more plus clippings. She thought my idea was great and became my number one fan in hoping Fred would say, “Yes”.
She told me my best chance was to play on Fred’s ego and use her name to get his attention. (I write this with mixed emotions because I mean no disrespect in the least to Fred. I never want to even taint in the least the life, or reputation, of Fred Blassie. He treated me like royalty every occasion I had to speak with him.) Wrestlers are approached at all times, by all kinds of people, for every reason under the sun. Leslie’s name was the buffer needed to get me to the front of Blassie’s attention. Pouring on the praise came natural to me because my praise was sincere. I sent my letters of praise and introduction to Madison Square Garden. Leslie had told me in detail how fan letters were handled at different arenas, but that MSG always delivered fan letters promptly to each and every wrestler. I sent the letters and waited to see how this would all play out.
Life doesn’t write itself in perfect chapters. While I was waiting to possibly hear from Fred, my game had to go forward. I put my first national ad in Wrestling World magazine and waited to see my millions pour in. It was a college course just to learn how magazines handled their ads. It wasn’t possible usually to advertise in just one magazine, but you normally had to advertise in like ten magazines; ten times the cost of what you would have figured. On my limited income, and no financial backers, Wrestling World became my favorite magazine for obvious reasons.
That first check from out of state to buy Headlocks and Hiprolls looked like a winning lottery ticket to me. My eighteen plus years of investment had paid off! It was fun to watch almost daily for awhile seeing checks and small notes from all over the United States. I even got thank you notes from people who thoroughly loved the game. A couple letters were heart-touching even though they were asking for a refund. Parents were apologizing while asking for their refund. Their 6 to 8 year old child had seen my ad, and begged their parents for the game. But, it was just too difficult for them as it had a suggested playing age of 12 or more and it seemed to be correct.
I probably broke even on that first ad, but I felt like a rich man. My many years of investment was now being enjoyed by households across the nation. Just when I thought it couldn’t get better, I got a phone call----a phone call with the very recognizable voice of THE Fred Blassie. He told me he had gotten my letter (I smiled-Leslie had led me right) and wanted to see me to sign the contract. I was one happy guy when I hung up the phone. I had set my goal, pursued it, and now it was going to be fulfilled.
Fred and I agreed to meet in Allentown, Pennsylvania at the WWWF TV tapings. My wife and I picked up 2 friends in Chambersburg and off to the matches. Fred got us in the side door while a long line of entering people wanted to know how we rated such attention. These were KAYFABE days, but Fred completely shocked me as he broke kayfabe in front of professional fans. He walked with the four of us and could be heard with a loud voice saying, “Get the Rev a good seat, give the Rev and his friends a seat”. Rev was Fred’s pet name for me because among the many hats I had worn in life, I also had traveled nationally as a licensed minister. He never called me Terry or Mr Kent; it was always, “Hey Rev, how ya doing?”
It was an exciting night to be at my first tv taping that would play out on my tv the next few weeks. I could hear some interviews being held in other parts of the building. Fred and I unceremoniously signed the contract behind the bleachers and he promised to send some pictures to use in magazine ads. We settled in for over 3 hours of mainly squash matches, but thoroughly enjoying ourselves. A quick good-bye to Fred and we traveled to Chambersburg for the night, reviewing all the night’s memories.
The next few weeks passed and Fred’s pictures came in. Fred looked great in his WWA World Heavyweight belt with his self-confident demeanor. It was time to make the game first class in its appearance and see what magazine was next, but this time with Fred as the “world-wide Pro Wrestling Hall of Famer” endorsing it unabashedly.
This is where I would love to tell you that Headlocks and Hiprolls became a constant ad you would see in all your favorite magazines. Fred and I stayed in touch for awhile as I kept him up to date in what was happening in my life. Seasons of life come and go, and I decided it was the season to once again start traveling nationally as “the Rev”. A person’s passion trumps out over minor dreams. Fred understood and never said one angry word toward me. He had followed his real passion and became the World Champion. I would like to believe even villainous Fred understood my investment into lives was more important to me overall, more than investing all my savings into a game to bring joy for a short season.
I hope you take away from this to believe in yourself. Chase your dreams. Don’t let anyone say you can’t do it. I changed the direction in my life to pursue deeply held personal beliefs. Beliefs that originated about the same time I had discovered my shoebox lid that magically transformed daily into a pro wrestling ring. It has brought to me the joy to have spoke into the lives of families in twenty-four states. I even had my fifteen minutes of fame in a male quartet I was in; we were considered for a Grammy Award. How’s that for an ending? I hope you enjoyed this long journey. May God bless each and every one of you! Who knows, this game may make a re-appearance some day.
Unique content strictly for the Professional Wrestling Historical Society.
Memories: Chapter One - Part Three.
Author: Terry Kent.
Published: October 31, 2015.
Article: #126.
Editor: Jimmy Wheeler.
Memories: Chapter One - Part Three.
Author: Terry Kent.
Published: October 31, 2015.
Article: #126.
Editor: Jimmy Wheeler.
Memories: Chapter One - Part Two - Read Here.
Memories: Chapter One - Part Two - Read Here.
Other articles by Terry can be Read Here.