Columns
Direct Kick: Valentine wants one last shot
He leaned forward in his chair, his raspy voice barely above a whisper. You could see the pain etched in his eyes, a pain for something he loved and dearly missed. His passion had cost him dearly over the years. A failed marriage. Depression. Time away from friends and family.
“I never got rich doing it. But how many people can say they did something they loved and got paid for it?”
Buddy Valentine can. You probably don’t recognize the name. He was never a household name like Hulk Hogan, Ric Flair, Steve Austin or John Cena. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t accomplish anything in his career as a professional wrestler. On the independent scene in Florida, Valentine is somewhat of a legend. For years he traveled up and down the roads of the Sunshine State, battling some of the top names in the sport, and capturing a few titles here and there. Since breaking into the sport in the 1980s, Valentine has been all over the United States and Canada, did a six month stint in Japan, and wrestled in Puerto Rico. He even worked on and off for World Championship Wrestling.
The Road Warriors. The Steiner Brothers. Brian Pillman. Lanny Poffo. Rocky Johnson (The Rock’s dad). Those are just some of the superstars that Valentine has faced. “Rick Steiner hit me with the Steinerline, and my neck was sore for six weeks,” Valentine said. You can search his name on YouTube and see several videos of his career.
He spilled blood, broke bones, and made crowds hate his every move. He also gained quite a reputation. These were the days before “sports entertainment,” when you weren’t sure whether or not it was predetermined, when kayfabe (keeping quite) was still the rule. Some wrestlers didn’t like working with him, especially if the action spilled out of the ring, where he would work stiff, meaning his punches and kicks were real.
“I was taught, once the action spilled outside the ring, you didn’t hold back,” Valentine, who grew up as Israel Napier here in London, said. In fact, for many years, his parents were kept in the dark about the true aspects of wrestling. They often wondered how a smaller guy could beat their son. It wasn’t until late in his career that he finally told them the truth.
“Wrestling has cost me a lot,” Valentine said. “My first marriage. My daughter learned to walk while I was on the road. During my first year in the business, I didn’t see my parents for eight months.”
Despite all that, Valentine can’t let the sport go. If you saw the movie, The Wrestler, you know what I’m talking about.
And he hates what the sport has become, especially on the national level.
“I turn it on long enough to get upset and turn it off,” Valentine said. “Throwing somebody through a table or off a ladder is not wrestling. Us older guys, you had to know how to wrestle or you would get stretched. When I broke in, it was a hard business to get into. There’s a lot of politics.”
Speaking of politics, Chattanooga is a sore spot for Valentine. He was scheduled to tag with Greg “The Hammer” Valentine on a WCW televised match. He had been using the name “Valentine” for years, as he was billed as being related to Greg.
But when the introductions were made, he was introduced as “Buddy Valentino” to his shock. After the match, he confronted Greg about this.
“He said his dad (the legendary Johnny Valentine) didn’t want me using the name Valentine anymore,” Valentine said. “I don’t know why. I never did anything to harm the name.”
Now, years after he last laced up his boots, Valentine wants one more go round. After he broke his leg, depression set in, and he ballooned to 500 pounds. That’s when he got a wake-up call.
“My doctor told me if I don’t do something, I won’t see my daughter get married or see my grandchildren,” Valentine said.
So it was back in the gym to try and whip himself into shape. Up every morning at 4 a.m., working out at 5. Doing road work. And it has paid off.
“I just hit 298 pounds,” Valentine said. “I’m in the best shape in the last 15 years. I’m doing this for myself; for a lot of years, I did things for somebody else. I’ve got to make that one last run. I’ve got to lace my boots back up. And I want to do one last match here in London. This is my home. I’ve been away from several years, but I have roots here. I want to move back here, maybe open a wrestling school.”
It’s been a long, hard road for Buddy Valentine. But the road less traveled is the one not taken.
Denis House can be reached at sports@sentinel-echo.com
- Columns
-
-
On The Rebound: Observations from a nightly run at Levi Jackson
-
Publisher's Notebook: Hot weather has us ready to throw in towel
-
Direct Kick: Dez Bryant takes a stand against rookie hazing
Dallas Cowboy rookie Dez Bryant has made headlines after refusing to carry the shoulder pads of Roy Williams.
-
My Point Is....Where in the world is Jack Sizemore?
-
On the Rebound: It takes nine to play baseball
-
Direct Kick: Will Mayweather-Pacquiao ever happen?
-
Question your government with authority
Well, it looks like Kathleen Imhoff isn’t going to go out without a fight.
-
Take unwanted animals to a shelter, not my house
One of the most annoying things about living in a relatively secluded but easily accessible place, such as Charlie Brown Road here in Garrard County, is that people who grow tired of their domestic animals find it convenient to drop them off on us.
-
The beauty of distraction
I just wrenched myself away from “Bethenny's Getting Married?” in order to write this column. Please know, I have never watched the show before and was only 20 minutes into the episode, but the wrench was still painful.
-
Late to the party, and it’s already over
A few months ago, I wrote about how I was a Neanderthal in social media circles because I didn't use Myspace, Twitter or Facebook.
- More Columns Headlines
-





