Ted DiBiase Read online

  Not only was I madly in love, I could also talk to Dixie. Since the death of my father, I really hadn’t had a person I could talk to like I could with him. We dated for a year and a half. Our long-distance relationship came to an end in the late summer prior to my senior year.

  7

  THE FINAL TWO YEARS OF HIGH SCHOOL

  My junior year of high school was a dichotomy. I was in love with Dixie but also committed to playing football at a high level. My problem was that I wasn’t accomplishing the latter. Dad had told me not to get serious about girls in high school: “Girls and athletics don’t mix.” With Dad gone, my mother drinking, and Mike in the military, I was looking for affection. I yearned for someone. Dixie filled that void.

  MIKE DIBIASE:

  I couldn’t believe that Ted was losing his focus. I was concerned about him blowing everything he had worked so hard for because of this girl. He would spend every available moment talking to, thinking about, and visiting with her. When he got his license, he took Grandma’s car and drove almost every weekend to see Dixie some 150 miles away. What was even more unreal was that back in 1970, Ted was running up a phone bill in the neighborhood of three to four hundred dollars a month! I jumped all over Ted and tried to get him to stay focused. I even went as far as asking him what he would do if Dixie got pregnant. Ted basically said he had everything under control.

  Ted also met my former army friend Robert “Abe” Lincoln. Abe befriended Ted and they took a liking to each other. Abe told Ted the same things I had stressed, but I guess since Abe wasn’t his brother and his approach was slightly gentler, Ted opened up. Abe genuinely cared for Ted and got him to release lots of emotion. In the end, Abe told him to stay focused on football. It was time for him to get his mind off Dixie and back on football. Ted eventually broke up with Dixie prior to his senior year.

  With Dixie on my mind and in my heart, my junior football season was mediocre. As a team, we did much better than the year before. We went 7–3. It was a relief to have a winning season. I played decent enough to have some standout games. I even received All-Conference honors. But it wasn’t the level of football that I should have been playing at.

  At Creighton Prep, we were a football powerhouse and one of the best schools in the state of Nebraska. It was a school steeped in tradition, and only the crème de la crème were recruited to attend. Every player’s goal was to earn a scholarship at a major NCAA Division I school. At Willcox High, all the players wanted to do was to get a letter.

  During my junior year, my grandfather died. He passed away around Thanksgiving. I loved him dearly; he never complained a day in his life about anything. But one day he said to me, “Teddy, I think I need to go see a doctor. I had a rough night.” He was too old to drive, so I immediately drove him to the family physician. I waited anxiously while Grandpa was being examined. After about an hour, the doctor told me, “Ted, your grandpa has suffered a minor heart attack. He is still alive, but frankly, there is really nothing we can do for him right now. Take him home and watch him closely. If he has another bad night, bring him back in the morning.”

  Grandpa had another restless night. He called me into the room and said, “Teddy, I think you need to take me to the hospital.” I freaked out. Grandpa got up, dressed on his own, and walked to the car.

  He must have stayed in the hospital for about two weeks. Grandma stayed there with him. Every day after school I would visit him. I vividly remember seeing his feet—they were cold and purple. I asked the doctor what was wrong, and he told me that his blood wasn’t properly circulating. Basically, he was wearing out. He was dying.

  To make him more comfortable, I would rub his head and encourage him as much as possible. I would bring his electric razor to the room and shave him. I even tried joking with him a few days before Thanksgiving. I said, “Grandpa, you need to get out of this dang hospital bed. It’s almost Turkey Day. There is going to be lots of food, and your favorite, pumpkin pie.”

  Grandpa looked at me and in a matter-of-fact way, which sent a chill down my spine, said, “Teddy, in a couple of more days I am going to be in the cemetery with your dad.” Two days later Grandpa died. He was eighty-nine. It was a sad holiday season.

  I put all my energy into football. That summer, I hit the weights, ran, and worked out hard. I was focused and reenergized. I had an outstanding summer practice and was fully prepared to have the season of my life. I was going to get a college football scholarship.

  My determination to succeed and my skills on and off the field caused some jealousy among teammates and fellow classmates. As a lark, I was coerced by my friends to run for senior class president. After entering the race, I began to take it more seriously. With the jocks by my side, I was victorious.

  I tried to be the leader on the team and I often challenged the other players. Mitch Plough and some of my other teammates apparently didn’t like my aggressiveness. Now that the newcomer was a standout on the football field and the senior class president, rumors started circulating: apparently Mitch and some others were talking behind my back. One day, I walked right up to him and said, “Look, if you have a problem with me, here I am. If you have something to say to me, say it to my face, or just shut up.” Mitch quickly backed down, and we would later become friends.

  On the football field, my senior season was outstanding. Now at six-four and 225 pounds, I was blowing people off the line left and right, and was a terror on the defensive side of the ball. In the end, all my hard work paid off. I was personally recognized for my football accomplishments: First Team, All-Conference Offensive and Defensive Tackle; First Team, All-State Defensive Tackle; and the first Willcox football player invited to play in the All-State high school football game.

  After football season, I focused on my studies and waited for track season to start so I could stay in shape. During Christmas break, I went to Los Angeles to spend the holidays with Ted, Mom, and John.

  When classes started again in January, I was determined to work out harder than ever before. I believed that I had a good enough senior year in football to receive a college scholarship. And I was right.

  One day, while I was in government class, trying to stay awake, I hid behind my friend Kathy Lindsey and tried to absorb the lecture. All of a sudden I heard over the loudspeaker, “Ted DiBiase, please report to the main office immediately.” Kathy turned around in concern and said, “What did you do?” I didn’t have a clue.

  As I opened the door to the principal’s office, he energetically said, “Ted, please come in. There are some people here who are really interested in talking to you.” I introduced myself to three football coaches from the University of Arizona. After a few minutes of casual chit-chat, where they spoke highly of my football talents, one of the coaches said, “Ted, I have been sent here to ask you a question: Would you like to accept a full scholarship to play football at the University of Arizona?”

  To say I was excited would be an understatement. I couldn’t believe it. Without hesitation I accepted. I signed a conference letter of intent—meaning I couldn’t sign with any other team in the WAC (Western Athletic Conference). The press was there and the next day my picture was on the front page of the local paper.

  As I left the principal’s office and headed back to class, I was on cloud nine. I couldn’t wait to tell all my family and friends. I thought it was poetic justice that the class I got called out of was a class of my immediate peers, some of whom doubted that I would accomplish my goal. When I got back to class, the teacher—who was also a football coach—asked, “So, what did you say?”

  I passionately replied, “I’m going!”

  Coach made the announcement to the entire class. “Class, Ted has just been offered a full scholarship to play football at the University of Arizona. This is a first in the history of Willcox High School. Let’s all congratulate Ted.” After a few moments of complete silence—you could have heard a pin drop—the class erupted into applause. Kathy and I hugged while other
s were giving me high fives.

  After school, I rushed home and told my grandmother all about the football scholarship. I then called my mom and Ted right away. I said, “I’m going to the University of Arizona! I am going to be a Wildcat!” I also spoke to John, who was very excited for me. It seemed like I was on the telephone all night. My last call was to my ex-girlfriend, Dixie. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day.

  A couple of weeks later, my friend Arthur and some others wanted to take me out to celebrate. Arthur said, “Hey, Ted, let’s celebrate. You’re Italian. All you Italians drink wine. Let’s go have a glass of wine.”

  I cautiously said, “Okay.” Keep in mind that up until the spring of my senior year in high school, I had never consumed intoxicating liquors. Not a glass of wine or even a bottle of beer.

  That Saturday afternoon, Arthur picked me up in his car and we headed into town. He had this huge gallon of cheap Spanada red wine in the car. I think the entire gallon cost him only $1.98. He pulled into the local Dairy Queen, where he got two large plastic cups and packed them down with crushed ice. We then poured the wine over the ice. I started sipping it through a straw. Arthur and I finished off the entire gallon while cruising the town all afternoon and evening. I was drunk! That night, Arthur and some of my friends had to help me into Arthur’s home, where I spent the night. The next morning I had the worst headache. It was my first hangover.

  A couple of weeks later, I was at home relaxing, just watching TV. A commercial came on announcing that professional wrestling was coming to the Tucson Community Center. And it wasn’t just any wrestling show. It was the wrestling show from the Amarillo territory. I couldn’t believe it. It was the first time I had seen anything about professional wrestling in three years.

  The commercial had all my old pals in it, including Dory Funk Sr. and Jr., Terry Funk, and Ricky Romero. I was so excited. I immediately said to myself that I was going to buy a ticket and go see them. I thought it would be very nice to see some of my old friends from Texas who I hadn’t seen in years.

  A few days later, I borrowed Grandma’s Chevy Caprice and headed to Tucson. I got there early and patiently waited to see the boys. Finally, I saw one of the crew members and asked if any of the wrestlers were there yet. He directed me around the corner. Immediately, I saw Dory Funk Sr. and his son, Dory Jr. They looked at me and said, “Teddy, is that you?” We embraced. They were happy to see me and vice versa. I told them about my scholarship and they were so proud. It was like a family reunion.

  We chatted for some time, but they had to get ready for the show. I asked about Terry Funk, who is the youngest of the Funk boys. Growing up, though he was eight years older than me, I was always the closest with Terry. Dory said, “Terry is not with us this trip. But we are coming back to Tucson in about a month. Terry will be with us then. I am sure he would love to see you.” I stayed through the whole evening. What a great wrestling show.

  The next time I returned to Tucson for the wrestling show, right away I inquired about Terry. When we saw each other, we embraced. I told him about everything I had accomplished and my plans to go to the University of Arizona. He was very proud of me. It was so good to see and talk with my friend. I felt so comfortable around Terry and all the other wrestlers. All of a sudden Terry said, “Teddy, why don’t you come back to Amarillo and visit West Texas State? Take a recruiting trip. They will pay for it. Come to Amarillo and visit the school and at the same time you can see all of us. Who knows, you may even like the school.”

  TERRY FUNK:

  Back then, West Texas State had a very good football program, a great coaching staff, and produced some great professionals like Mercury Morris and Duane Thomas. As a graduate of West Texas State, I told Teddy to give them a look.

  It didn’t take too much convincing, because he loved the area and also the many professional wrestlers they produced, such as Bruiser Brody, Stan Hansen, and me. Teddy was born into the business and always loved the sport. This was a key factor in Teddy choosing West Texas State over Arizona. Here he would have an opportunity to play college football and possibly get into the wrestling world.

  West Texas State is where Terry as well as his brother, Dory Funk Jr., went to school. It has produced wrestlers such as Dusty Rhodes, Stan Hansen, Merced Solis (Tito Santana), Tully Blanchard, Barry Windham, Bruiser Brody, and Bobby Duncum.

  I took my recruiting trip to Canyon to visit the campus and its facilities. In my mind, I was all set and ready to play for the University of Arizona. I didn’t think anything about visiting my old stomping grounds on West Texas State’s coin.

  To my surprise, I really liked the campus. Everyone was very nice. The head football coach, Gene Mayfield, was very friendly. In fact, prior to coaching at West Texas State, Coach Mayfield built a high school football power-house at Permian in Odessa. It was the school program that inspired the 2004 movie Friday Night Lights.

  Coach and his staff showed me lots of personal attention. I was offered a full scholarship to play football for the Buffaloes. Before I headed back home to Willcox, I accepted Coach’s offer and signed a conference letter of intent. I thought West Texas State would be a great opportunity to improve my football skills so I could eventually play professionally. They were a Division I school and played in the Missouri Valley Conference.

  I also thought that if for some reason I wasn’t good enough to get drafted, and if I didn’t make it in professional football, I would have more opportunities in Amarillo than in Tucson. What I was really thinking about was becoming a professional wrestler. My dad never wanted me to be a professional wrestler. Never. But deep down, I never could let go of my desire to one day become a wrestler just like Dad.

  I headed back to Willcox quite confused. I told my grandma everything, and she told me to follow my heart. I did. I made up my mind that I was going to attend West Texas State University.

  One day at school, I got called out of class to the principal’s office. Upon my arrival, I was surprised to see three men again: the head football coach, the defensive line coach, and the amateur wrestling coach of the University of Arizona. They invited me to lunch to discuss my future at the University of Arizona. Word had apparently got out that I had visited and signed a letter of intent with West Texas State.

  During lunch, we had a nice conversation. The coaches were puzzled because they thought I wanted to attend their school. I was honest with them and told them how I felt. I stressed that whether I attended the University of Arizona or West Texas State, there was no assurance I would be good enough to make it into the NFL—hence my other passion in life, becoming a professional wrestler. I think that’s why they brought the school’s amateur wrestling coach, who told me they would put me on the school’s wrestling team. Obviously, they didn’t understand a word I had said. I had no interest in amateur wrestling. In fact, I had my mind made up to sign with West Texas State. At that point, I was simply just trying to be nice.

  As our lunch ended, they invited me to the upcoming athletic banquet on campus for incoming freshmen. The banquet was scheduled for the evening of National Signing Day. Coach said, “Ted, the least you can do for us is to come to the banquet. Just come, visit the campus, and see our facilities.”

  Beaten down, I said, “Okay. I will come to the banquet.”

  A couple of weeks later, the assistant football coach, who was a University of Arizona alumnus, drove me to the banquet. He was a great guy and I respected him a lot. During the two-and-a-half-hour drive, we chatted about lots of things. But he also warned me. He said, “Ted, I am going to be real honest with you because I like you. These guys are high pressure. You need to be prepared. They will be putting lots of pressure on you to sign a letter of intent. This is for sure. They are expecting me to tell you to attend the University of Arizona. But I am telling you that you need to do whatever you feel in your heart.”

  It was a great evening. The food was fantastic and the atmosphere was very regal. I met lots of guys from around the
state and country, all of whom were going to attend the University of Arizona. Although I was enjoying the evening, with every passing minute my heart was leaning more and more to West Texas State. As I was getting ready to head back to Willcox, the coaches told me to spend the night in Tucson. They took care of all accommodations and put me up in a nice hotel.

  The next morning I was awakened by a phone call around seven. It was the defensive line coach. He invited me down to join him and the other coaches for breakfast. I accepted, and met the coaches in the hotel restaurant. As I was eating, the coaches made one last effort to get me to commit. For some reason, I recall looking at the clock. It showed eight. Simultaneously, one of the coaches reached into his sport-coat pocket and pulled out a contract. He slid the contract to me from across the table and handed me a pen. “Ted, we want you to be the first person this year to sign the National Letter of Intent to play football for the University of Arizona.”

  I was flattered and appreciated the gesture. Though I was nervous, I stuck to my guns. “Coach, I still don’t know.” The coaches remained cordial, but they really wanted me to sign. I guess they were getting desperate, because they tried to play me for a fool. One of the coaches said, “Ted, go ahead, just sign it. If you change your mind, we will just tear it up.”

  I couldn’t believe it. I may not have been the brightest guy, but I didn’t just fall off a turnip truck either. I just sat there, and even though I wanted to say it out loud, I bit my tongue and simply thought, “You son of a bitch! Do you think I’m that stupid?”

  But once again, I didn’t budge. I stressed that I couldn’t sign with them right now. They backed off. We ended breakfast shaking hands, and they told me one of the coaches would take me home. I went back to the room and packed my stuff. It was a long ride back to Willcox.

  As soon as I got home, I couldn’t wait to see my grandmother and tell her what had happened. I told her how everything was so intense and pressure-packed. She hugged me and told me how proud she was of the way that I handled myself. She also told me that Coach Dawson from West Texas State had been calling every fifteen minutes!