Head Tale

The Dynamite Kid is the reason I’m a wrestling fan.

I was fortunate to grow up in Western Canada during the heyday of Stampede Wrestling and I remember coming across this strange “ring-a-ding-dong dandy” spectacle on the TV when I was 7 or 8 years old.

Many of the wrestlers had interesting names and personas – “Bad News Allen”. “The Cuban Assassin”. “The Great Gama”. “The Stomper”. “Loch Ness Monster”.  “Hercules Ayala”.

But Dynamite Kid was the only one who truly embraced the fact that he was like a comic book hero (my other love at the time) come to life – in his name, in his ring gear, and especially in how he performed, flying around the ring, doing flips, handsprings and leaping off the turnbuckle without regard for his opponent or himself.

I was hooked immediately and never looked back.

Pro wrestling has been one of the biggest loves of my life and the Dynamite Kid was a huge part of that – getting to watch him every Saturday on Stampede Wrestling, the pride I felt when he (and some of my other favourite Stampede stars) succeeded in the WWE, when I later learned about his groundbreaking matches in Japan, and yes, this inevitable early end to his life after how he abused his body, both inside the ring and outside.

It’s understating it greatly to say he was a complicated figure – obviously a bully and an abuser with a small man complex. But also one of the Top 5 most innovative wrestlers in history who inspired a generation of light-heavyweights – most obviously Chris Benoit – but any other wrestler who combines high-impact with high flying.

RIP.