Accepted

by Pat Patterson

  “No, no, you’re right. I’ll get rid of it. Don’t worry.”

  Louie had to leave early for barber school the next day. I was still sleeping and I could hear the dog crying. I rolled over onto my other side and it was all wet. The little bastard had shit my bed, and I was rolling in it. This was the end for this particular puppy and me. I gave it to somebody the same day. Much later, Louie and I finally had dogs in San Francisco. But at that time there was enough shit in the wrestling business — I didn’t need to willingly roll into more in my own bed.

  Life on the road was such that you’d look for little distractions just to keep yourself entertained. In Odessa, Texas, in the middle of nowhere, the wrestlers always stayed at the same hotel. We spent the day by the pool, wrestled at night, and then we’d move on to the next town the following day. Why that particular place? There was a local couple who used to invite wrestlers to participate in some special “after dark activities.” The husband liked to watch while she did her thing with the wrestlers. They invited me to be a part of the action on a regular basis, but I would politely turn them down. Still, they liked me. They would bring food and beer, so we socialized quite a bit. There is nothing like offering something free if you want to interact with a wrestler. At the time, there was this wrestler from Mexico with us; he was a real nice guy and he had the hots for the woman. One day, he asked me to go with him so that he might have a chance to be intimate with her. Always there for my fellow wrestler, I told him that I would go, but that I would only watch with the husband.

  When the time came, my friend was really putting in the effort; her head was off the bed and there was a good risk they might actually fall off. I decided to get up and “help” a little, making sure she would not fall off. So I am face-to-face with him and we are both doing our thing with her, and I see he is about to finish as he is moaning and screaming. I brushed his hair back and said, “Give me a kiss.”

  He stopped everything right there. He was so mad; he wanted to kill me for ruining the mood. Me, I was laughing. If I was going to help, I deserved at least a good laugh for my effort. I was not sexually attracted to women, but life is so short you might as well try everything when you have the chance. (There’s more on that in Chapter Eight, and if you have not read that Ray Stevens chapter yet, you once again have my permission to go do so. The rest of this chapter will still be here when you’re done.)

  (Back already? Good, let’s continue.)

  In Amarillo, I wrestled against the promoter Dory Funk Sr. It was such an important match: heavyweight boxing champion Joe Louis was booked as the special guest referee. Let me tell you, I would never want to take a punch from that man, because if I had, my head would have fallen off my shoulders. He had the biggest wrists and hands I had ever seen. I learned a lot during my time in Texas, but after four months, I was ready to go back to California.

  San Francisco is still one of my top places in the world, and if I have a favorite anything, there is a good chance you will find it in that city. I learned so much and truly enjoyed my life with Louie in the Bay area. I discovered many great restaurants and so much more of the finer things in life there. I was enjoying life to the fullest, and I was also becoming a star and reaching unbelievable success in my chosen profession.

  Louie had opened up a barbershop. One day, there was a party at Roy Shire’s house and he told me to ask Louie to bring his scissors so he could get a haircut. I told Roy to talk with Louie directly. So Roy called and asked him, but Louie didn’t want to work at a party, so he told him to come by the barbershop instead. Roy was mad, saying that my damn friend Louie was a no-good son of a bitch. And do you know what the old man did? It took a month, but he finally wound up going to the barbershop. Louie told him his hair looked awful and he gave him a great haircut. Roy went back every month after that. He even gave him a good tip — and let me tell you, Roy was very tight with his money. Even Louie would tease him, saying that it must have really hurt Roy to give such a good tip. Louie was like that: he would never bullshit you; you’d get an honest opinion every time. That’s why everyone loved him.

  One thing you need to know about the way Roy Shire ran Big Time Wrestling: Louie had to buy a ticket if he wanted to see the show at the Cow Palace. Even Ray Stevens’s wife had to buy a ticket. Shire would always say, “Does the mailman bring his wife to work? I’m running a business.” By making Roy come to his barbershop, Louie was just following the same business principle.

  A funny story: Roy used to try to impress everyone he met by making everything he did or was involved in sound so much better than it really was. Louie went off on him the very first time they met. “Who the hell are you?” he said. It was an explosive beginning, but they had a great relationship after that. Even if neither one of them ever gave away anything for free.

  Another time Roy was hosting a party, he wanted Louie to act as the bartender.

  “Why don’t you ask Louie yourself?” I said.

  When Roy finally reached out to him, Louie bluntly asked, “Are you inviting me to be at your party or do you want me there to just work as the bartender?”

  “I need a bartender,” Roy said.

  “Well, Roy, you’re gonna have to pay me then,” said Louie.

  Roy was shocked whenever Louie talked to him like that. Promoters weren’t used to being told no. But at the end of the day, Roy paid him. While the party was going on, he asked Louie not to put so much alcohol in the drinks. Louie said, “I am the bartender. You need to be someplace else.”

  It’s the truth, I swear; Louie was amazing. Why do you think I spent forty years of my life with him?

  Moving to San Francisco made a huge difference to our lifestyle. I went from wrestling in front of 2,000 or 3,000 fans to performing in front of three, four, and often even five times as many people at the Cow Palace. We had a beautiful Spanish house. I paid $38,000 for it; it’s probably worth over half a million dollars today, if not more. We made good money for the time, but still it was nothing like what the top guys make now. Guys today have it much better than we did. In WWE, there’s guaranteed money, and you get paid even if you’re hurt. The company will take care of your medical bills. Now some guys still spend their money too recklessly — that hasn’t changed from my day. I learned quickly to take care of mine.

  Our mountainside house in San Francisco was beautiful. I had a big pool and I had never experienced anything like it. We would throw parties and invite people to stay the night. Then I realized that if I made a sandwich for myself, I needed to make one for everyone. And I would buy vodka and beer and share that with everyone. It soon became expensive. We continued to throw parties but after a while we asked everyone to bring their own food and beverages. My friend’s father had a big butcher shop, and he would bring these wonderful juicy steaks and pork chops. It was insane the food we would cook. Sometimes the party would be in full swing when I left to work and would still be going when I returned.

  I began golfing in San Francisco. Louie was one hell of a player and he introduced me to the game. At first, I wasn’t very good at it but I kept at it and started to love playing, I found it relaxing and a good way to escape life on the road. I still play on a regular basis. Back in the day, Bobby Heenan never wanted to play with us. He finally came out and used my old clubs. They were in bad shape; the grips were loose and Bobby kept complaining about them. Then out of nowhere, he sank a hole in one. He said that’s it, I can’t get any better, and stopped playing for the rest of the day. Bobby is the best.

  Louie and I brought both of our families out to spend time with us in San Francisco and share in our success. We had so much fun with them. Louie’s dad would cook. My dad had never met a chef like him before. He made big bowls of pasta with homemade sauce and everything. This is probably one of my proudest and fondest memories, to be able to share those moments with both our families like that. One day, Louie and I sent our dads out to use the
tramway. We told them to go down the line and enjoy the city. Well, next thing I know, Louie’s father was telling me that my dad’s a dirty old man. Apparently, they’d used their time in the city to watch a porno movie. We had a good laugh about that — they were having such a good time, as if they were both teenagers. We dressed our dads up in my wrestling gear, with the championship and everything, and took pictures. And though we were spending a lot of quality time together, my dad and I never really managed to get any closer. Even though we were having fun, and even traveled to some towns together, we could not fix the past. When I would visit Montréal after that, however, Dad wanted me to visit all our relatives and bring pictures to show them I was a champion. It was just a case of “too little, too late.” My mother seemed like she was in tears all the time — she was proud of my success, but even prouder of me.

  I took my parents to see me wrestle in San Francisco, Reno, and Las Vegas. We flew from San Francisco to Vegas. It was a forty­-five-minute journey on Western Airlines which, at the time, was known as the “Champagne Airline.” As soon as the plane took off, everyone over twenty-one was given a glass of champagne. My mom and dad never drank. My mom said, “What’s that?”

  “It’s champagne.”

  “Champagne?”

  “Yeah, champagne; it’s free.”

  “No, champagne is not free.”

  “Ma, it’s free.”

  “You’re spending too much money.”

  “Ma, it’s free. I’m not spending any money.”

  She didn’t believe me. Anyway, they finally began sipping their drinks and, before you know it, she was talking loudly and crying a little. Soon she was turning red and I knew she had a buzz on. I said, “Ma, please don’t worry about anything.”

  She just couldn’t accept it. When the stewardess walked by, she asked me, “Is the lady OK?”

  “Yes,” I said, “she’s fine. She doesn’t believe it’s free champagne because she thinks it’s too expensive.”

  “Oh, she’ll be all right, don’t worry.” And then the stewardess went to the back of the plane. When she returned, she put a whole bottle of champagne on the table.

  “Now you’re overdoing it!” my mom said. But she kept that ­bottle of champagne.

  I took my parents to a famous drag queen show, a big tourist attraction in San Francisco. I knew everybody there, so we were sitting in the first row, center stage. My father could not wrap his mind around the fact that they were men dressed as women.

  “I am telling you, Dad, they’re men.”

  They had never seen anything close to that in Montréal. Before we went, Louie treated my mother to a complete makeover — and I mean complete, including dyeing her hair and applying fake eyelashes. My mom was funny and said, “Everyone is going to think that I am the one disguised as a woman.”

  My mother had never been treated to anything like that, and she was gorgeous. She deserved it and I’m glad I was able to provide her with a little magic on nights like that. My parents had no idea I was doing so well until they saw it for themselves. I had to explain that performing at the Cow Palace was like wrestling in the main event at the Forum, that I was just like Yvon Robert. They were amazed: Robert was a big star in my hometown, a symbol for all French Canadians because of his popularity and success.

  When they first came to our house, we had a king-size bed for them to sleep in. They had never seen a king-size bed in their life, let alone slept in one. The first morning, they slept in. I heard my mother asking my dad what time it was; he told her to keep sleeping, that it didn’t matter. I was not going to let that opportunity pass me by. I changed each and every clock in the house by two hours. They woke up around 10 a.m., but when my dad checked the time, the clock indicated it was noon.

  “Ben voyons, Gérard, ça pas de bon sens dormir tard de même!” My God, Gérard, we can’t do that — sleep in that late!

  I was laughing my ass off. They hurried downstairs to the living room, trying to figure out how it could have happened. We explained the joke, but Louie and I had a good laugh about that for a long time. They stayed for three weeks, and I brought them everywhere with me. Later on, Louie’s parents moved closer to us, just outside of San Francisco. We saw each other quite often until his dad died. Soon after, and just before Louie and I left for Florida, his mom passed away, too.

  We often vacationed in Boston and stayed with Louie’s sister. When we were in town, we made sure to see the nephews and the nieces play hockey and baseball — all the things a family would do. We were simply called Uncle Pat and Uncle Louie. I love them a lot, and they’ve brought me great joy over the years. I am very proud of them.

  If things had been different, I would have loved to have children with Louie. I love children very much, and Louie did as well. Louie had such a good heart, and he’d talk for hours and hours with a child. I don’t know, if we’d had the option back then, maybe we would have considered adopting. A little girl, maybe. But it was a different time and my career always came first, and it would probably not have been a good idea. Louie knew that, too, and he accepted it. I always said, “What comes first is not you or us. It’s the business. And it’s always going to be that way. If I am successful in the business, we are going to live well. Business comes first. When I need to go on the road, or spend months in Japan, don’t bitch. I will always come back to you.” I was lucky — he accepted that and at home we never talked about wrestling. We were perfect for each other.

  Still, we had so much love we could have given to a child. I always liked the Big Brothers and Big Sisters organizations. You can treat a child to an amazing day by taking him or her to the circus or simply out to eat some ice cream. But I never even applied. I would have had to say I was gay, and back then people associated gay men with pedophiles. So I didn’t see the point in subjecting myself to that. Still, I am sure the kids would have had a great time. This might be one of the few regrets of my life, not to have been able to give a child all the good things I never had as a kid. Louie and I could have done so many good things for kids who needed it, if we had been allowed. But that’s life. I don’t like having regrets — and even if I have a few, I don’t dwell on the past.

  * * *

  Pat Patterson is certainly not a unique name in America. In Oakland, there was a car dealer with the same name. I’ve been asked if I am him quite often, but strangely I have never met him or any other Pat Patterson in all of my travels. I’ve heard stories about quite a few people calling his dealerships to ask if he was a wrestler. And hey, even if there’s more than one Pat Patterson out there, I’m still unique.

  When I turned and became a good guy, I was finally able to start giving a little back to my community. One time, I was invited to visit sick children in a San Francisco hospital. As wrestlers, we were famous, but many of the kids still had no idea who we were. The show we did was not really geared toward children. When they brought me to visit a section of the hospital where older people were staying, things were different. Now those people had seen me on television. I took pictures with everyone and then approached a blind woman sitting in the corner all by herself. She said, “I can’t believe I’m talking to Pat Patterson. I can’t believe I’m touching your hand. When they put the TV on, I can hear you talk.”

  I don’t know why but she really touched me. Maybe I saw a little of my mother in her. I asked the nurse and the other medical personnel how long she had been at the hospital. They told me she had been there for years and that she had no family. I asked if I could take her out one day, and they said sure. I brought her to the beach in my convertible. She felt the fresh air and heard the sounds of the waves; the warmth of the sun on her skin made her realize where she was. We had an amazing day.

  I don’t have a lot of regrets, but I sometimes wonder, what if Louie and I had had a child together?

  I had fought the idea of becoming a good guy for a long time.
The old-timers would always say to me that I was a good-looking kid and that I should be a good guy, but I resisted. And I guess that’s why I became an ass-kicking good guy: I like being the villain too much. I was in San Francisco for so long, it was bound to happen at some point. And I took advantage of it when it did.

  There were some benefits to being a fan favorite. I was free to hang around other wrestlers who were also popular. I became good friends with Rocky Johnson and Peter Maivia. Before when I would fight Maivia at the Cow Palace, all the Samoans wanted to kill me because of the beating I would give him. I was calling his wife, Leah, and asking if she could get the Samoans seats anywhere but ringside for those shows. Seriously, I was legitimately scared for my life. I was sure they were going to kill me some day. Even when she managed to get them seated at the top of the arena, as soon as Peter got into trouble they would come down ringside. No one could stop them — they’re truly a force of nature. Remember, I’m not a tough guy; I just played one on TV. If they only knew how frightened I was.

  I wrestled Rocky Johnson a lot and we had great matches together. He was really popular and a very fine performer. The only thing was that he could be a little lazy sometimes . . . So one time I grabbed him by the hair and told him to stop being a lazy bastard. I ended up pulling out some of his hair.

  “Get mad, you son of a bitch,” I said, knowing I had to get him hot for him to give me his best. But when I did, man, was it good.

  When we see each other now, he always says we tore it down. And my response to that is always the same: “Yeah, because I chewed your ass.”

  While I was teaming with Peter Maivia, I was finally invited to party at his place. Because before, obviously, I had been a hated rival. At the first party I attended, I looked around and there were at least fifty Samoans who all looked like Afa and Sika staring at me intensely. In fact, most of them were the same people who used to scare me to death when Peter and I were mortal enemies — back when I actually used to leave the Cow Palace hidden in a box to escape them. Concerned, I asked Leah if I was OK. She told me not to worry, that they were not going to touch me.