Godspeed, Dusty Rhodes.
I met him in 1999 when I was in Atlanta trying out for World Championship Wrestling. On the second day, he took me into a little production room at WCW’s PowerPlant training facility. It was me, him, and a camera.
“You’re facing Sid Vicious on Nitro next Monday, and no one thinks you have a chance. Tell me about it. 45 seconds. Go.” I cut my promo and then waited for him to speak.
For what felt like an eternity he said nothing and just looked at me, like he was looking through me.
“You remind me of a young Sting,” he said. “And you can talk a little. That was good, but let me show you how I’d cut that promo.”
And then Dusty Rhodes cut a promo as me. As me. I was 21 years old and blown away.
Fast-forward almost 14 years later; my first day working as a Guest Coach at the WWE Performance Center. I came back from lunch and opened the office door. There he was.
For what felt like an eternity he said nothing and just looked at me, again like he was looking through me. Finally he smiled.
“Hey Champ,” he said. “How are ya, good to see you.”
Dusty Rhodes called ME “champ”. I was 35 years old and blown away.
From that point on, I always took the opportunity to sit in and help him in any way I could during his Presentation Skills classes. But truth be told, I always felt like I was learning just as much as everyone else. And sure, he’d call on me to critique or help or lend my opinion, but moreover I would sit there amazed and trying to absorb the wisdom that would come out of him. Not for me to use, mind you, but for me to pass on to someone else. To future generations. Good God, I wish that time wasn’t now.
I’m glad we had an opportunity to get to know one another beyond the everyday platitudes and “wrestling” stuff. We both loved our Green Bay Packers and joked about walking around the office wearing our NWA belts, but mostly we talked about our children, regrets and desires, and everyday life.
I ALWAYS felt like I learned something from him. I’m so incredibly grateful for that.
Dusty Rhodes owed me nothing, yet always gave his insight and experience. I KNEW that he wanted me to succeed, and that means the world to me. During the first WWE match I ever produced on my own, he sat right behind me, over my left shoulder.
As the bell run and the match was over, I thanked the guys in the truck and the referee and I looked back at him.
He nodded his head and smiled. “You did real good, Champ. Yah, real good.” We had a laugh and then, for shits-and-giggles, we took the selfie you see at the end of this note. A little later on, away from everything, I went up to him.
“Before I fly home tomorrow, I just wanted to say thank you for your help along the way, Dream. For everything.”
“Thank YOU,” he said. And he gave me a hug.
“Travel safe, Champ, I'll see ya soon. Love ya, kid.”
“Thanks, Dream. Love ya too.”
My heart is so heavy and my thoughts and prayers are with the family and everyone that called him a friend. I wanted so badly for my family to meet him, not for who he was, but for WHO he WAS. Dream, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for all you gave me that you never had to.
Godspeed, my friend. I'll never ever let you down.
-AP