Tom Zenk

[Guest tank_abbott]

From Tom Zenk's website...

www.geocities.com/Colosse...index.html

 

by Tom Zenk

Way back in second grade at St Margaret Mary’s, I had the cutest little girl in my class. She was called Leonice Leonard. Never imagined she would grow up to be the woman that married Curt Hennig.

 

I first met Curt in High School - Robbinsdale Senior High, the proud former home of AWA superstars Verne Gagne and Larry Hennig.

 

Everybody at school knew Curt. His dad was “Larry the AXE” of TV wrestling fame!

 

Curt and I were in Mr. Miller’s history class together and he helped me out a few times, not only sharing answers for a few tests but he slapped this guy who was teasing me. This guy was a "freak" and we were both "jocks." I think the guy knocked the books outta my hands in the hall. He only did that one time. Curt was a friend. He laughed about it years later…….

 

Back in 1984-85, Curt and I crossed paths again in the AWA. We were tag partners for a while but we were friends first - can't say that about many in the wrestling biz. I can still hear Curt’s first words when he saw me at The Gym –

"Tom Zenk?? Holy @#%$, what happened to you?"

"I got my growth spurt late" I told him.

Curt and I hooked up and traveled the road together. He told hour upon hour of old timer stories, all the while listening to country music. He gave me a really good foundation, past and present, in the strange biz we were both involved in. He also taught me about psychology in the wrestling business. "In wrestling we manipulate" were his exact words. We were eating string cheese and drinking beer on our way back from a shot in Wisconsin. He kept blowing smoke in my face, saying "Zenk take a hit…c’mon Zenk, take a @#%$’ hit." So finally I did.

 

I’d never listened to country music, I guess because I thought I hated it. When I told Curt, he turned it up louder, setting all his pre-set buttons to the same country channel and laughing like hell when I tried to change stations. I had no choice. "Learn to like it kid," he told me in his best Harley Race impression. "I was country before country was cool," and he'd laugh like hell. Me too.

 

Many guys give no advice or bad advice because they “had it hard" or a "nobody-helped- ME" attitude. There’s an awful lot of that in wrestling, as I found out later. But not Curt who went out of his way for me, always. He never seemed to mind all my naive questions - he just wanted to help We were two guys from Robbinsdale, the same senior class. It was a fine start for a good story.

 

Back then, the Road Warriors were just starting in the AWA after their strong run on Georgia's TBS TV. They really popped Verne’s tired old territory. Curt told me how he used to get goose bumps when their music played. I didn't understand why…. until I got goose bumps too, in 1987, when Hulk Hogan’s music played. Anyway, Curt had a much better mind for the biz than I ever had, having started in 1980 and being second generation and all. "Keep your mouth shut and ears open for the first five years," he told me. Good advice from both Curt and his father for me at that stage.

 

This particular night I was to wrestle first match with Steve Regal in Rockford, Illinois. Hennig and I were running buddies. He liked to rib and was intent on teaching me some of his mischievous ways. I was very willing to learn. He was gonna show me the ropes. Great!! We arrive at the building. It's a high school, Boylan Catholic High School. The smell of hot fresh popcorn fills the halls, masking that distinct school hallway smell. All schools have it. Curt knows the routine. He’s been here before. "C’mon Zenk,” he says, “follow me." He's the lead dog. He likes that. We get to the locker room first. Only "Coffee Dave" the ringbuilder is there ahead of us. We dump our bags off and Curt checks the stalls and showers, casing the place out. "O.K. Zenk let's go. Keep an eye on the door." We’re on a mission for locks, master padlocks. Curt keeps a stash of them in his bag, he tells me, just in case. "Just in case what?” I ask." "Just in case I run out," he tells me. “He, he, he,” he's laughing like crazy, pulling on locks to see if they’re open or just left un-open. He finds three and relays the old wrestling story - "See Zenk, we got three, it comes in threees Zenk, that's the way it goes."

The rest of the boys start arriving. Greg and Verne, the Baron, Lanza. The heels in one room, the faces in the other. The Commissioner enters. For some reason, the topic of steroids keeps coming up, with the Road Warriors being in the territory and really they are just huge. Maybe some might be jealous how big and how "over" they are. Greg and Verne are the most vocal. Rumor has it Greg tried steroids but got sickly from them. Maybe also because the Warriors won't do jobs, and are hard to deal with. The word “roid rage” is also popular tonight, not to their face mind you. I, for one, love the huge packed houses the Warriors draw. No one complains about that! I really don't care what they or anyone else does. I'm just trying to remember all the spots and the finish and not blow up out in the ring.

 

Meanwhile, among all the commotion with the commission and the boys BS’ing each other, Curt and I sneak out to the parking lot for a bit of fresh air and to check things out. WOW!!! a nice shiny new Lincoln... "Humm... wonder who can afford to rent that?” Curt says grinning. We conduct our business inspecting the new car and return back inside to get dressed.

 

It's about 5 minutes before bell time and one of the Road Warriors has forgotten his makeup and goes out to the new Lincoln to get it. All of a sudden we hear screaming and yelling - “F” this and “MF” that…. Seems someone ribbed the Road Warriors by clipping a master padlock on their hood ornament?

"No one ribs the Road Warriors …..NOBODY!!!..

“Someone IS dead meat…..”

“Now somebody better start talkin’…...”

“Whoever did it is gonna get their ass handed to ‘em…."

Chairs start flying, swearing …..maybe the Gagnes were right? This must be “roid rage” after all!

"Zenkado" says an elated Curt, high on the rib "If they ask you, what are ya gonna say?”

"Do you think I'm crazy," I tell him

"Good. Just remember Zenk, your finger was on the lock when we clipped it on their Lincoln too. Oh…..and remember Zenker, cross your fingers. When they ask, they won't be smart enough to say, ‘No crosses count.’ Aahh ha ha ha ha!"

“What if they suspect?" I ask.

"Ah, they couldn't beat me up anyway," Curt replies still laughing, "Maybe you Zenk. But I'd slap ‘em both off ya, just like high school!!!"

 

That was Curt, always cool, always laughing, pulling ribs, driving fast, eatin’ string cheese and drinking beer, even a couple pulltabs now and again.

 

I liked Curt, still do.... and that’s what hurts the most.