Snake most at home battling his demons – for a buck
By Mr. Mal Occhio
Wrestlers Ramblings.com wrestling newsÂ
Old wrestlers, unfortunately, rarely fade away gracefully. Most either burn out, like Eddie Guerrero, break down, like Mick Foley – or – for most others, anxiously sit one call removed from yet another angle. Yet another paycheck. Yet another shot at glory. The roar of the crowd no doubt as addictive as any pill that thrills. To Mr. Mal’s mind, I bet many would trade any artificial high for one more huge pop from a packed house. In striving to recapture what they may have once had, or perhaps are still trying to achieve, no angle is seemingly beneath many of them. Nothing too low. Nothing out-of-bounds. Nothing sacred. Look no further than Jake Roberts.
Word has surfaced this week that Roberts approached TNA recently with an idea for angle. That would no surprise, as both Vince McMahon and Jim Ross have been quoted as saying Roberts has one of the most-creative minds the industry has ever seen. A master psychologist, they say. A man who truly knows wrestling. They add, however, that – just as the best gimmicks blur the line between fantasy and reality – Roberts himself probably isn’t sure where his character ends and the real man begins. Maybe that’s the problem. Why if there isn’t any difference left at this point?
Apparently, the angle pitched involved Roberts helping a fan break some sort of drug addiction. Sounds interesting enough, I mean, at least it would be fresh. Especially considering that, for many fans, the last time any of us has really seen Roberts was in Barry Blaustein’s sensational documentary Beyond the Mat in 1999. In it, Jake is shown smoking crack cocaine, on-camera, and is essentially portrayed on the whole as an adulterous, alcoholic, drug-addicted, dead-beat father. Hardly the depiction of someone content with their past fame, aging peacefully on some beach-front property. No, not Roberts. He is also shown urinating into a Small Town, U.S.A. arena garbage can at another point in the documentary, after working a match for some local scrub. Anything for a buck. Controversy is no stranger to the man from Stone Mountain, GA. Yet oddly, he continues to court it. In battling his demons, he is most at-peace.
Bringing Roberts in to play off these all-too-real struggles of his is hardly something new. Back in the late 90s, it was Roberts who created the biggest draw the industry has seen in the past 20-years – albeit inadvertently. Coming back to his former stomping grounds of the then-World Wrestling Federation after years away, whispers of Roberts’ past were beginning to become public knowledge with the onset of the internet. So what did Jake do then? The answer was an easy one. He worked an angle around it. Playing a Bible-thumping, recovering alcoholic, Roberts (as the face) permitted Jerry Lawler to pour whisky down his throat as part of a bit. Roberts has said later that it was only supposed to be iced tea – whatever. Was Roberts really sober prior to the angle? Did it send him back over-the-edge? Who can really know for sure. At this point, everything is an angle to Jake the Snake – even his faith in God. He infused that into his character as well during that run, with an up-and-coming wrestler named Steve Austin riffing into his famous “Austin 3:16� catchphrase when mocking Roberts after a loss at the 1996 King of the Ring. No matter, all part of the business to Jake, surely.
In fairness, Roberts said later of the Blaustein work that his performance was just that as well – a work. He also criticized the director for showing things out-of-context. Did I mention Roberts has also stated in other interviews that he has never even watched the movie? Strangely, though, he knows exactly what was wrong with it. No matter. All fodder for future swerves and bits, surely. If TNA takes him up on his offer, maybe we’ll see a Roberts-Blaustein cage match. You never know. Regardless, it all becomes part of the template from which Jake can later draw.
Some of the greats die out like a proverbial shooting star. They burn bright, and are then gone. The memories we keep of them – at the top of their game, like Owen Hart – stay with us forever. Others, like Brian Pillman, leave a legacy of tragic infamy. And then there’s Jake, not content to realize that throughout everything he has endured (including a divorce from real-life wife Cheryl, who he also infused into a well-known storyline back in the 80s with the late-Rick Rude) he has survived it. The drugs and alcohol have not killed him. He has overcome them. Sadly, he seems content to willingly continue to tempt fate and keep drawing on his darkest side. His demons become public viewing. All for a buck. All for a wrestling show. All to fool himself into believing anyone remembers the great Jake the Snake anymore. Mr. Mal sure doesn’t . . .