This Article On The Legend Of Andre The Giant Was Fantastic If You Missed It
(CBSSports.com) The storyline that started Andre’s WWF feud with Jake Roberts revolved around Andre being afraid of snakes. During one match, Roberts recalled, his snake actually bit Andre, breaking off its fangs in the giant’s shoulder. Fearing Andre’s temper, Roberts immediately went looking for Andre after the match to apologize.
“I peeked my head around the door and seen him sitting down,” Roberts recalled. “I’m like ‘OK, that’s good news.’ He’s playing cards already. I’m like, ‘Hey Andre!’ He’s like, ‘Hey boss. Good match. Thank you.’ Then Rick Rude walked up to him and goes, ‘Oh look, Andre. Snake fangs.’ And he pulled them out. He goes, ‘Ha. Snake must have been hungry.'”
Holy shit. And this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Just an epic read about one of the most popular athletes on a global scale that will never, CAN never, be replicated. Andre the fucking Giant.
A living, breathing giant traveling the world as the biggest draw in professional wrestling, touring the globe to adoring crowds for decades. All while making Mickey Mantle look like Ned Flanders and knowing it wasn’t going to last forever (partially because he treated doctors like stubborn Irish Baby Boomers that swear they’re “fine”). But he was also the beloved Everyman superstar, always willing to help a peer or advance a career.
Back in the pre-Wrestlemania days when the WWF used to make its monthly pit stop above North Station, if Andre was on the bill, you went. Automatically. It just never got old seeing the Eighth Wonder of the World in person. Always jaw-dropping, always a spectacle. It wasn’t something you could see anywhere else.
Even at about 10 years old, I knew I’d never forget meeting Andre. Getting an autograph (on a $1 bill because I had no paper) and a picture with him at 150 Causeway after a card continues to be one of my great memories (that’s a young RA in red looking at Camera B). I’m pretty sure he donated platelets in the steel cage versus Big John Studd that night, hence the towel. He actually put his hand on my wiffle and his fingers draped over my brow, obscuring my vision. So yeah, I can check “squash palmed by Andre” off the list. (Also checked: “squash palmed by Detroit Red Wings locker room security detail after Game Six of the 2008 Stanley Cup at the Igloo in Pittsburgh”.)
There’s been some unreal oral histories and the like online over the last few years. The Boogie Nights one. The Wire (no, really, MAXIM!). Props where they’re due to Jr.’s Simpsons porn “Homer at the Bat”. Too many to link. Well, this one is right up there. (The one and only quibble: Damien was a python not a boa. Otherwise, cue the fucking Orson Welles GIF for this work).
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