His name was Abel Earnhardt, and he’d retired a few years before I joined the promotion, so we’d never met before. He had a reputation as a bit of a showman, good at working the crowd, and—at one time, I guess—something of a heartthrob.
My name is Jago Jaeger, and I was twenty-four years old at the time. I’d been with the MWA for about six months and had a respectable record. The television championship was my first title, and I’d won it just a week before the Anniversary Show. Of course, my match with Earnhardt would be nontitle, as he was not officially employed by the promotion. It would just be a current tv champ, going up against a former tv champ.
The show was filmed live, August 5, 1971, at the Recreation Hall in downtown Milwaukee, and telecast over Channel 5, WRNG. It was scheduled for two-out-of-three falls, with two pins, two submissions or a knockout deciding it. The referee was Lance Thompson.
Things started simply enough, with a collar-and-elbow. It was clear that despite his age and years out of the game that he was in decent shape, but I still decided to go easy on him at first just to be sure the fans got their money’s worth. It was equally clear though, that he went straight at me full-throttle, which is why he manage to strong-arm me so easily over onto the mat.
He treated his accomplishment like something major, flexing and mugging for the fans—who ate it up, by the way.
Thinking he was onto something, he challenged me to a test-of-strength. I accepted, thinking he (and the fans) needed to be shown how things were.
Right away I knew that wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped. I consider myself pretty strong...But so was he!
Still I eventually managed to use my height advantage and start him on the slow descent to his knees. He fought me hard for every inch, and the gazed up at me in shock, as if surprised I’d have the nerve to be stronger than him.
Just then two things happened almost simultaneously. The ref stepped in and asked Earnhardt if he wanted to submit, and the crowd started chanting the old guy’s name—or, rather, “Legend!” which they and he apparently thought was his name.
Never underestimate the power of positive reinforcement. There I was on the verge of making the veteran submit, and suddenly I felt new strength flow into his arms. He planted his feet and groaned with effort, and suddenly we were chest-to-chest again.
Then the unthinkable happened. I felt my arms pushed back. My knees trembled. I slowly started to bow before him. The crowd roared! He’d turned the tables. I didn’t give up, but, with the fans supporting him, I just couldn’t compete. My face slid down his chest and I tasted the sweat trickling down between his big pecs...
“How about it? You submit?” The ref was yelling at me, and I felt like he woke me from a dream. Both Earnhardt and I looked over at him in confusion. He repeated his question, but I was too disoriented to know what to say.
My opponent suffered no such indecisiveness. He gave me a swift kick to the belly.
That broke the test-of-strength, and he slapped on a headlock, ignoring the ref who was trying to give him grief for the kick.
