Perhaps the best interview in the business, Jimmy Cornette [See Profile #303], articulated it best when he referred to Garvin as "the Barney Rubble of professional wrestling." Part of the problem, I think (read: I'm sure), was that Garvin was a French Canadian pretending to be an Atlanta, Georgia, native, wrestling in Charlotte. He was brought to the NWA under the pretense of being "Georgous" Jimmy Garvin's [See Profile #871] brother, when really he was Garvin's step-father. Though the family-tree-as-straight-line angle may have gone over well in Charlotte in the mid-'80s, President Jim Crockett, Jr. wasn't taking any chances.
He was more popularly (though not in my house with my father around) known as "Hands of Stone" Ronnie Garvin. And, in his later WWF years, known as "Rugged" Ronnie Garvin. Both vague allusions to his [undocumented] amateur boxing background, and one-punch knockout power. He came to the Carolinas, ostensibly, in defense of his "brother" Jimmy (who was feuding with Ric Flair at the time). Ronnie then feuded with Ric Flair and actually defeated Flair for the world title. Normally, a rematch clause stipulates that the new champion must grant a defense to the former champ within 30 days. Garvin received special privilege to go over the 30-day mark before giving Flair a return bout, where he was promptly and soundly thrashed by the Nature Boy. Subsequently, Garvin dropped his title on the very first defense.
Garvin would end up in the WWF and ascend to nothing higher than mid-card status, and was soon relegated to toil in the opening bouts of untelevised house shows. His no frills, punch-kick-stomp-chop style of wrestling didn't serve him well in the WWF. His average physique and size--compared to the 'roid freak WWF wrestlers--also did him no favors with the booking committee.
Looking back, the most entertaining thing about Garvin was his promos. Not because he was so good, rather because he could barely speak the language. He'd invent words, combine words that weren't supposed to be combined, he'd stutter, he'd turn red in the face, etc. It was beautiful; virtuoso performances of unintended comedy abounded.
Behold, this Ronnie Garvin gem [unedited]: “He tried to assassinate me! You saw it! If it would’ve [sic] been for Barry Windham, they was gonna decapitate me! I wouldn’t even be here today, and if I was, I wouldn’t have my head on. Well, I’m gonna tell ya something, Jimmy Corners, Jimmy Cornette, Denis the Menace, whatever you are...”
Where is he now? Garvin owns and runs several used car dealerships in North Carolina. I'd love to listen to him try and sell me a Volvo.
1 comment:
Doesn't Ronnie qualify more as a jobber made good? Occasionally those guys would jump up to become more well known (Elbow--who's the guy I'm thinking of--always wore the satin jacket).
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