http://soundcloud.com/mr-butthole/mr-butthole-entrance-theme
Blast-from-the-past pro-wrestler Mr. Butthole may not be be a name at the tip of everyones tongue. 'Butt', during his brief stint in the WWF in the late 1980's s Mr. Butthole became an unlikely household name. With his innovative set of signature moves, such as the 'Butt Splash', 'Butt Slam', and the 'Shake, Rattle and Hole', Mr. Butthole became one of the fastest rising 'stars' ever to grace the WWF.
His wrestling career began in an appropriately unlikely fashion. During the mid 1980's, Mr. Butthole, or at the time; Chadwick Muhammad Goldsmith, was working at 'King Chicken', a small Chicken Joint which Goldsmith co-owned with Billy Nando, who would later go on to Chicken fame. During busy hours at King Chicken, Goldsmith would act as bouncer, often having to manhandle the rough-and-tough patrons of London's arty Soho district. One evening, or so the story is told in chicken-lore, Goldsmith was man-wrestling with one particularly boisterous Soho regular when, by a co-incidence which can only be described as a co-incidence, The Iron Sheik of WWF fame was searching Soho's backstreets for some 'backdoor meat'. Naturally he came to King Chicken, and upon seeing Goldsmith's physical ability with the unruly bone-licker, he is said to have uttered the words which have now gone down in history; "Do you still do the wings?". After receiving his protein-laden mouth-filler, The Iron Sheik briefly exchanged a few words with Goldstein which would change his life forever; "You know, if you like that, Wrestling's full of them." The wheels of change, upon the carriage of desire, ridden by the night-man of hope and pulled by the horses of dreams, were officially in motion.
Goldsmith moved out to LA the following year. Where he religiously followed the WWF around their touring circuit, often claiming that he couldn't wait to find a way into wrestling's back-door.The following fall Goldsmith's prayers were answered when he ran into the Iron Sheik at a wrestling event in Las Vegas. Recognizing the muscle-laden meat-vendor, The Sheik invited Goldsmith along to a wrestling try-out to be held the following day. Goldsmith's talent and finesse in the noble art were soon recognized by none other than Vince McMahon, owner of the WWF. With a creativity, formerly stifled by the mundane serving of piping-hot cock at King Chicken, Goldsmith was a fount of creativity and inspiration. His wrestling was a suggestion from the Iron Sheik, and with his new monicker Goldsmith would go on to invent a range of intricate, and original wrestling moves. The bright lights and large crowds brought out the star in Mr. Butthole.
Mr Butthole shot up the ranks of the WWF roster at a speed which had never before been observed, until that is, the introduction to the WWF of a young man named Michael Hickenbottom, AKA Shawn Michaels. Ironically it would be the ascension of Michaels to the top which would be the downfall of Mr. Butthole. Soon, 'The Heartbreak Kid' Shawn Michaels was grabbing the main events as well as the heart and minds of America. In a socio-cultural display of post-conflict national collective consciousness, America's citizenship accured Michael as a archetypal token of American values in a post-Nixon, Red Scare and Cold-War tectonic shift in values. And, as the fried Chicken-Breast of Show-business simmered in the fat of the American people's affection Mr. Butthole sank into a self-loathing state of meat-pizzas and cheese-burgers. Unable to perform any longer with a body-full of crust and gristle, Mr Butthole quickly sank into obscurity. Once dazzling the fans in main events with The Butt Splash and The Butt Slam, he had been reduced to opening matches with unheard of wrestler's, often losing as McMahon would use him as a springboard to 'put over' new talent in the company. One fateful night at the 'December DeathBall' on a rainy February, Mr Butthole failed to turn up to his opening match against soon-to-coffin-filler Jason 'The Train' Bradstein. Mr Butthole was never seen or heard from again.
Legend has it that on some quiet nights, Mr. butthole can be spotted pacing up and down the Soho street where King Chicken once stood, before being torn down to make way for the first Nando's restaurant. I suppose we shall never know. However, for this journalist, there will always be a page of a history book which will forever have Butthole smeared across it.
Alan Holswick, 2010
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