Some thoughts on the passing of Road Warrior Hawk

The early death of Mike Hegstrand seems to have surprised no one. Drug abuse, past heart problems and more, the passing of Hegstrand brings to an end a legacy that redefined tag team wrestling. There will be better researched articles about this ring legend (cheap plug for Dave Meltzer’s Wrestling Observer Newsletter) but this is my take. My memories of the Road Warriors.

I first saw them in the early hours of one cold morning on ITV. They showed WCW Main Event for about six weeks and the first show featured the Freebirds / Samoans beatdown of the Warriors. This angle built up the War Games at the 1989 Bash and were the Warriors over? Like crazy. The aura they had in those days meant that a beat down (5 on 2) was big news with the NWA faithful. I got to see the War Games some years later and the crowd viewed the Warriors as supermen. But this was, I think, the Warriors’ last true moment of Glory. The Steiner Brothers were gaining momentum as the power team that everyone wanted to see. With new moves and (in Scott’s case at least) a bigger and better physique, the Steiners were the team of the 90s and the Warriors were stuck in the 80s. Second place wasn’t good enough for the Warriors so you can imagine how third place suited them. The Skyscrapers (Sid Vicious and Danny Spivey) were the big brawling team that were crushing all challengers. They were the heels that people cheered. Like Bret Hart in 1997, the Warriors found themselves stuck in limbo. Neither top faces nor top heels, no longer groundbreaking, not able to adapt to the forthcoming decade, the Warriors were losing their power. A win at Starrcade 89 wasn’t enough and when their contracts came up for renewal they were gone. Their demands and their perceived worth to the struggling company were miles apart. The WWF beckoned.

In 1987 Vince McMahon tried to sign the Warriors. He failed when Jim Crockett made them a guaranteed offer around the $500,000 per year (each) mark. Vince, not used to being snubbed by anyone, took his revenge by creating Demolition. People said they were Road Warrior rip-offs but the facts don’t bear that out. Demolition were Road Warrior spoofs. Think about it – there were no shortage of muscle men who could’ve been put in leather and war paint. Young, athletic guys who could’ve been taught to punch, kick and clothesline their way to the titles. Instead McMahon chose two old fat men – Bill Eadie and Randy Culley. Two journeymen under contract (as a Machine and a Moondog respectively) were put in bondage gear and had paint smeared (I’ve seen the footage – it’s literally smeared) on their faces. Their first few matches sucked the proverbial ass. This was McMahon at his most vindictive. There was nothing special about the Warriors, he was saying, because these ugly old fat blokes can do it just as well. The early reactions were suitably underwhelming. Culley was replaced by Barry Darsow – a guy in good shape – and Demolition started being treated more seriously. The look was improved, comedy manager Johnny V was replaced by Mr Fuji and the tag titles were won at Wrestlemania. Suddenly Demolition were on the rise. A record breaking title run meant people were giving them respect. They turned babyface and became arguably as over as the Warriors. McMahon no longer craved the Road Warriors – he had his own, cheaper version.

Why McMahon signed the Warriors in 1990 is obvious – because he could. Why he chose to have them destroy Demolition in super quick order is less clear. Rather than build for the dream feud, the Warriors came in, annihilated Demolition and moved on to other things. Perhaps motivated by Ax’s retirement and replacement by Crush, Demolition were phased out with embarrassing speed. A sub-five minute loss to a Japanese team at Wrestlemania and they were gone. Hawaiian Crush and Repo Man were the result. Vince had the LOD and he didn’t need anyone else.

Their WWF reign started strongly but quickly faltered. They hit an all time low (possibly the lowest point any legend ever reached in McMahon’s cruel WWF) when they were given Rocco as a manager. Wandering round a Chicago wasteland, they found a ventriloquist’s dummy from their youth and started bringing him to the ring. Yes – the Road Warriors who “snacked on danger and dined on death” were now taking career advice from a wooden mannequin. But it paid well.

They left the WWF after a fall out with Vince McMahon. Hawk left first which led WWF to attempt to launch Animal and Crush as the new LOD. It only lasted one European tour before Animal was let go too. Crush had been the last roll of the dice for Demolition and the Road Warriors and had failed in each case. Animal collected an insurance policy and Hawk worked Japan.

Hawk never really caught on as a singles worker. Not that anyone seriously pushed him in that direction. With more interest and effort he might have become the new singles attraction that WCW needed in the early-90s but it didn’t happen. He was always viewed as half of a tag team and the fans were always asking when Animal was coming back to reunite the team. Eventually they did come back – Animal claiming he was legally only able to work tags under his insurance settlement – and enjoyed a second successful WWF run. They ruled the roost in 1997 and even managed a PPV main event at the Canadian Stampede. But then they feuded with two jobbers – Billy Gunn and Jesse Jammes – who were in the midst of a surprising push. The New Age Outlaws were cool and they exposed the Warriors as not being cool. The fans started backing the NAO against the LOD and the writing was on the wall. The less said about the angle with Hawk’s substance abuse the better. It was the end.

They flitted around the world after that – Animal worked for WCW in the last months, the team did a few shows for TNA, they had a low paying Japanese deal and they even got a WWE tryout. They got a good pop, did the clean job, got right back up after the finish and were not hired. Even Animal’s brother being possibly the 4th most powerful man in the company (behind Vince, Jim Ross and Kevin Dunn) couldn’t get them a job.

You will hear a lot about people hating working with the Warriors because they sold nothing and destroyed companies with their dominant style. I came along too late to see that. I only saw the Warriors’ slow fall from grace. From supermen in mid-89 to washed up old legends, I missed their glory years. The cost of their success was other people’s livelihoods. They had few (if any) good matches and they helped spread the culture of roided up muscle guys who couldn’t work. But they’re the Road Warriors – the originals and the best.

30th October 2003