[sumo] [off topic]what is Akebono up to these days?

[Joshua Maciel]

If Andre the Giant is your favourite Athlete, I highly recommend this
article<http://www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com/issues/10_06/10_06_andre_giant.html>if
you also like drinking:

Do you have a favorite drunkard?

Some amazing man or woman, past or present, who stands colossus-like atop
the Big Keg, the ground below littered with crushed empties and the
blacked-out carcasses of lesser beings? A verging demigod, whose prowess
with a bottle leaves you shaking your head in pop-eyed adoration? Lots of us
do.

In addition to their wrist-raising abilities, we deify great drinkers
because they indulge their lust for intoxication while simultaneously
operating at the peak of their powers in whatever their chosen profession.
In other words, great drunks are also great writers, actors, athletes,
scientists, statesmen, philosophers, and so on.

I have a favorite drunkard. He was an athlete—a professional wrestler in
fact—but he was also a gifted entertainer and a true artist. His parents
named him Andre Rene Rousimoff, but we knew him as The Eighth Wonder of the
World, Andre the Giant.

For two decades, from the late 1960s through the mid 1980s, Andre the Giant
was the highest paid professional wrestler in the business and a household
name across the globe. Promoters fought tooth and nail to book Andre, as his
presence on a card all but guaranteed a sell-out. Fans cheered his every
move, and mobbed him on the street as if he were a great big Beatle.

 For proof of his drawing power, look no further than *Wrestlemania III* in
1987. The main event was Andre vs. Hulk Hogan. The show drew the first
million-dollar gate in wrestling history, set a pay-per-view record that
lasted a decade, and set the all-time indoor attendance record for
*any*live event
*ever*—78,000+ butts in seats at the Pontiac Silver Dome in
Detroit—destroying the previous record set by some rock band called the
Rolling Stones. His rematch with Hogan two months later, broadcast live on
NBC, attracted 33 million viewers, making it the most watched wrestling
match ever.

[image: 119 Beers]Known to his friends simply as "Giant" or "Boss," Andre
was born on May 19th, 1946, in Grenoble, France, the child of Russian
immigrants. Shortly after his birth, he was diagnosed with a rare glandular
disease, acromegaly, which caused his body to over-produce growth hormones.
As a result, Andre grew to a height of somewhere between 6'11" and 7'5" and
a weight of over 500 pounds (his actual height and weight have been
speculated about for decades—the business is notorious for inflating
wrestlers' statistics—but Andre's illness sometimes made him slouch or bow
his shoulders, so he might well have been the advertised 7'5"). He first
wrestled as Andre the Butcher, but it was Vincent J. McMahon Sr., owner of
New York's World Wide Wrestling Federation (WWWF), who christened him "Andre
the Giant."

While it can be argued that a miniscule handful of professional wrestlers
matched Andre's in-ring achievements (Gorgeous George back in the '40s and
'50s, perhaps; Dusty Rhodes in the '70s, and Hulk Hogan, without a doubt, in
the '80s), no other wrestler ever matched his exploits as a drunkard. In
fact, no other *human* has ever matched Andre as a drinker. He is the
zenith. He is the Mount Everest of inebriation.
As far as great drunkards go, there is Andre the Giant, and then there is
everyone else.

The big man loved two things: wrestling and booze—mostly booze—and his
appetites were of mythic proportion.

First, consider the number 7,000. It's an important number, and a rather
scary one considering its context, which is this—it has been estimated that
Andre the Giant drank 7,000 calories worth of booze *every day.* The figure
doesn't include food. Just booze.

7,000 calories.

Every day.

I don't know about you, but it makes my brain turn somersaults. Hell, it
makes my brain perform an entire floor routine, complete with colored
ribbons.

When Andre arrived in New York to begin his long working relationship with
the McMahon family, his reputation as both a serious student of the
nightlife and an extravagant spender was already a topic of speculation and
wonder among East Coast wrestlers and promoters. Andre might make
$15,000-$20,000 for a single appearance at Madison Square Garden, and a
substantial amount of that  went to settling the bar tabs he piled up as he
boozed his way up and down Manhattan until sunrise. Andre's generosity
matched his size. He often invited a gang of fellow wrestlers along for the
ride, as he disliked drinking alone, and picked up some truly staggering
tabs. Andre was going to have a good time and went out of his way to make
sure everyone else did too.

Worried about his headliner, Vince McMahon Sr. assigned a "handler" to the
Giant—long-time wrestler, manager, and road agent, Arnold Skaaland, whose
only job when Andre was in town was to keep him out of serious trouble and
get him to the arena in time to wrestle. Skaaland was an old-school drinker
in his own right, but Andre blew his mind. On one occasion he could only
watch goggle-eyed as Andre went about demolishing a dozen or so quarts of
beer as a "warm-up" for a match.

With Skaaland on the job, Vince Sr. knew Andre was in capable hands, but the
promoter still worried about how the Giant would cope with the insane amount
of travel required of a wrestling superstar. Andre loathed flying—no
commercial airliner could accommodate such a massive man without resorting
to the luggage compartment—and his opinion of most cars wasn't much sunnier,
because aspects of his disease caused intense pain in his knees, hips and
lower back when he remained too long in a cramped position. When a tight
schedule left a plane or car as the only option, Andre eased his discomfort
by getting good and hammered.

Vince Sr. pondered the situation and arrived at a novel solution. He wanted
to keep the big man happy, so he bought a trailer and had it customized just
for Andre. With plenty of room to spread out and relax, Andre could now
travel in a semblance of comfort, which allowed him to do some serious
boozing. During trips Andre consumed beer at the incredible rate of a case
every ninety minutes, with bottles of vodka or top-rate French wine thrown
in for variety.

Sadly, the trailer wasn't available outside the WWWF territory; Vince Sr.
wasn't about to do the competition any favors. Andre didn't expect other
promoters to pony up a trailer just for him, so he commissioned a customized
Lincoln Continental. With the front seat now positioned about where the back
seat would normally be, Andre had a little leg room. He carried his luggage
and wrestling gear in the trunk and towed his necessities in a trailer.
Lined with plastic tarps, the rickety trailer was filled with ice and cases
of Budweiser tallboys. As he cruised the nation's highways, Andre kept a
case on the seat beside him, stopping only for food, more ice, and another
case or two if he ran low.

As famous as Andre was in this country, he was even bigger in Japan. He
spent a few months out of every year over there, where he was treated like a
living god and pocketed five-figure payoffs for a single night's work. That
being said, Andre didn't really like Japan. Everything was too small. Hotel
beds were like bassinets and it was all but impossible for him to shower or
go to the bathroom in their Lilliputian facilities. He was known to rip the
door off his hotel bathroom and make use of the toilet by sitting sideways
with his legs sticking out into the main room.
Getting from show to show presented its own problems. Japanese promoters
preferred to transport the *gaijin* wrestlers by bus, vehicles which
steadfastly refused to house giants. In order to placate their star import,
promoters removed several rows of seats from the back of the bus, creating
something of a private cabin for Andre, a place spacious enough for him to
stretch out or catch a nap. Mostly, though, Andre used the space as a
comfortable spot to do his drinking.

A very green rookie wrestler named Hulk Hogan toured Japan several times
with Andre and witnessed the Giant's alcohol consumption first hand.
According to Hogan, Andre drank, at a minimum, a case of tall boys during
each bus ride. When he finished a can Andre would belch, crush the can in
his dinner-platter-sized hand, and bounce the empty off the back of Hogan's
head. Hogan learned to count each *thunk*, so he could anticipate when Andre
was running low. Whenever the bus stopped, it was Hogan's job to scamper off
to the nearest store, buy as many cases of beer as he could carry, and make
it back before the bus departed, a sight that never failed to make Andre
roar his bassoon-like laugh.

On one tour, Andre's Japanese sponsors rewarded him with a case of expensive
plum wine. Andre settled down in the back of the bus and started drinking.
Four hours later, the bus arrived at the next venue, and Andre was polishing
off the last bottle of wine.

Sixteen bottles of wine in four hours is a considerable feat, but it gets
better. Andre proceeded straight to the ring and wrestled three matches,
including a twenty-man battle royal. The 16 bottles of plum wine had no
discernible effect on Andre's in-ring ability. By the end of the evening,
Andre had sweated off the wine and found himself growing cranky. He
dispatched Hogan for a few cases of beer. Hogan hurried to do as Andre
asked, knowing from painful experience that a drunken Giant was a happy
Giant, and a happy Giant was less likely to fracture some vital part of an
opponent's anatomy in a fit of grumpiness.

In 1977, "The American Dream" Dusty Rhodes wrestled Andre at Madison Square
Garden. Afterwards, the old friends went out on the town. They adjourned to
one of Andre's favorite watering holes and took stools at the bar (Andre
occupied two). Several hours and some 100 beers later (around 75 of them
were Andre's), they decided to head back to their hotel. Andre looked at
taxis with the same scorn as most other conveyances and announced that he
and Dusty would walk, which was problem because Dusty was having trouble
maintaining a vertical position. Andre studied the situation, and a
twinkling grin blossomed across his huge face. People who spent any time
with the big man quickly learned to watch for that grin. It was a harbinger
of danger. It meant that Andre was contemplating something risky, something
with potential legal ramifications, but also, most assuredly, something *
fun.*

A moment later, the two huge wrestlers attacked a pair of horse-drawn
carriages. Dusty threw a handful of paper money at one driver while Andre
hauled the other from his seat with one hand. While one driver cursed and
the other scrabbled around on the ground collecting his windfall, Andre and
Dusty thundered off in the carriages. They raced through the Manhattan
streets, dodging cars and pedestrians for fifteen blocks before ditching the
carriages and lathered horses a block from their hotel. By the time the cops
arrived, Andre and Dusty were enjoying snifters of brandy in the hotel bar,
appearing as innocent as angels. The next day, they main-evented another
card at the Garden. Another sell-out. Two pros at the top of their
games.

Another time, in the '70s, Andre was holding court at a beach-front bar in
the Carolinas, boozing it up with fellow wrestlers Blackjack Mulligan, Dick
Murdoch, and the inimitable Ric Flair. They'd been drinking with gusto for
hours when Flair goaded Mulligan and Murdoch into some slap-boxing with
Andre, who had poured over 60 beers down his gullet. One of the two
"accidentally" sucker-punched Andre. The Giant became enraged, grabbed both
Mulligan (6'5", 250 lbs.) and Murdoch (6'3", 240 lbs.) and dragged them into
the ocean, one in each hand, where he proceeded to hold them under water.
Flair intervened, and Andre released the men, assuring them he was only
playing around. Murdoch and Mulligan, who had nearly drowned, weren't so
sure, but neither messed with Andre the Giant again. They also picked up the
tab.

On another occasion, Andre was touring the Kansas City territory and went
out for drinks after a show with Bobby Heenan and several other wrestlers.
When the bartender hollered last call, Andre, slightly annoyed, announced
that he didn't care to leave. Rather than risk an altercation with his
hulking customer, the bartender told Andre he could stay only if he was
drinking, imagining, surely, that he would soon be rid of the big fella.
Andre thanked the man, and proceeded to order 40 vodka tonics. He sat there
drinking them, one after another, finishing the last at just after five in
the morning.

When ill health forced Andre to largely quit wrestling in the late '80s, he
accepted the role of Fezzik in Rob Reiner's movie *The Princess
Bride.*Everyone on the set loved the big man, with the possible
exception of Reiner
himself. Ever the sociable fellow, he kept fellow cast members Mandy
Patinkin and Carey Elwes out night after night, drinking and otherwise
goofing around. The actors were incapable of matching Andre's intake, but
certainly gave it a serious try. As a result, they often showed up on set
still loaded or suffering from the sort of hangovers that make death seem a
pleasant alternative. Reiner tried to get Andre to leave the actors alone,
but Andre could only be Andre, and the other cast members continued to pay
the price.

The shooting schedule required Andre to be in England for about a month.
When his part wrapped, Andre checked out of his suite at the Hyatt in London
and flew back to his ranch in North Carolina. His bar bill for the
month-long stay?

Just a shade over $40,000.

Now, if everything I've described so far isn't proof enough that Andre the
Giant was the greatest drunkard who ever lived, these last two stories
should set my claim in granite.

You won't find it in the *Guinness Book of World Records*, but Andre the
Giant holds the world record for the largest number of beers consumed in a
single sitting. These were standard 12-ounce bottles of beer, nothing fancy,
but during a six-hour period Andre drank 119 of them. It was one of the few
times Andre got drunk enough to pass out, which he did in a hallway at his
hotel. His companions, quite drunk themselves, couldn't move the big man.
Fearing trouble with cops, they stole a piano cover from the lounge and
draped it over Andre's inert form. He slept peacefully until morning,
unmolested by anyone. Perhaps the hotel people thought he was a piece of
furniture.

 Think about it: 119 beers in six hours. That's a beer every three minutes,
non stop. That's beyond epic. It's beyond the ken of mortal men. It's
god-like.

Giants are not made long for this world, and toward the end of his life
injuries and health problems caused by the acromegaly caught up with Andre.
It became difficult just to walk, let alone wrestle, so he retired to his
North Carolina ranch to drink wine and watch the countryside. He declined
myriad requests for a comeback, despite promises of lavish payoffs. He was
simply in too much pain to perform at the level he demanded of himself. Then
he received a call from Vince McMahon Jr.

McMahon was in the midst of taking his WWF promotion national. He'd scored
big-time with his *Wrestlemania* events on pay-per-view, and as *Wrestlemania
III* approached, Vince Jr. was hot to make it the biggest thing yet. To make
that happen, he needed Andre the Giant.

Andre was in France visiting his ailing father when the call came. He
thanked Vince Jr. but said there was no way he could get back in a ring,
even though he very much wanted to. Not willing to give up, Vince Jr. flew
to France to speak with Andre in person. He took Andre to see doctors
specializing in back and knee maladies. Radical back surgery was proposed.
If successful, the procedure would lessen Andre's pain and perhaps make it
possible for him to get in the ring for Wrestlemania. If Andre was game,
Vince Jr. agreed to pay for the entire cost of the surgery.

The time arrived, and the anesthesiologist was frantic. He had never put a
person of Andre's size under the gas before and had no idea how much to use.
Various experts were brought in but no solution presented itself until one
of the doctors asked Andre if he was a drinker. Andre responded that, yes,
he'd been known to tip a glass from time to time. The doctor then wanted to
know how much Andre drank and how much it took to get him drunk.

"Well," rumbled the Giant, "It usually takes two liters of vodka just to
make me feel warm inside."

And thus was a solution found. The gas-passer was able to extrapolate a
correct mixture for Andre by analyzing his alcohol intake. It was a medical
breakthrough, and the system is still used to this day.

Five months later, Andre the Giant wrestled a "body-slam" match against Hulk
Hogan and brought down the house.

Two liters of vodka. Warm and fuzzy. Side by side like that, the two
sentences hardly make any sense. For most of us, two liters of vodka means a
one-way ticket to Blackout Island aboard the good ship *Regurgitania*.

After *Wrestlemania,* Andre retired for good. His beloved father died in
1993 and Andre returned to France to be with his family. He was still there
when, on January 26th, 1993, Andre died in his sleep of heart failure at the
age of 47.

The key to Andre the Giant is this — even as a youth he knew that his
disease would dramatically shorten his life. He knew there was no cure, and
lived every day with the understanding that death could shamble around the
very next corner. Knowledge of this sort can darken a life.

It did not darken Andre's.

He chose instead to pack his days with as much insane, drunken fun as they
could hold. Instead of languishing in the darkness, he chose to walk in the
sun.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again now. Andre the Giant was an
inspiration. I would pay a fortune for the opportunity to go back in time 30
years to watch such a master practice his craft, in the ring and at the bar.

Andre the Giant was the very embodiment of what being a drunkard is all
about.
*—Richard English*

*(Note: The Author is indebted to the works of Brian Solomon, Ric Flair,
Terry Funk, "Superstar" Billy Graham, Dave Meltzer, Bobby "The Brain"
Heenan, and Hulk Hogan.)*


On 9/4/07, Kuramarujo <klemmerj at webtrek.com> wrote:
>
> On Mon, 2007-09-03 at 23:16 +0900, Joe Petrow wrote:
>
> > After some intense digging, I have found video footage of how the new
> > Akebono was conceived.  Literally!
> >
> > http://youtube.com/watch?v=qsz8JqkIi7M
> >
> > The momentous moment happens around 3:37 mark of the video/
> >
> > No need to thank me, really.
>
>         Even so, that was the best part of my day.  Reminded me of the old
> days
> of the WWF.  George "The Animal" Steel vs Randy "Macho Man" Savage for
> the ownership of Miss Elizabeth.  Chief Jay Strongbow and his war dance
> (I still get chills).  And, of course, the greatest
> wrestler/showman/person of all time, my hero Andre The Giant.
>
> K-jo, who would gladly chew on a turnbuckle but the the lack of them on
> the dohyo
>
> --
> Joe "Kuramarujo" Klemmer
> http://www.webtrek.com/joe/sumo
>
> _______________________________________________
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>