It’s great that Dusty worked so much with NXT. He loved the business, so he loved that. Some NXT prospects that worked with Dusty for just a very short time were incredibly grief-stricken by his death. Legit, I’m sure. Dusty had that effect on people. He was the Dream 24/7, and a babyface 24/7.
“Hard Times” is the best babyface promo of all time. That’s fact, not opinion. It’s a blueprint. 1985. Jim Crockett Promotions. Dusty doesn’t just rally the fans to his side, he rallies America to its feet. Watch it on YouTube. When Dusty reaches toward the camera, I defy you to not reach back. I do. Every time. It’s impossible not to. It sucks you in. It delivers. It’s real. Dusty Rhodes was real.
Dusty won titles. He drew money. He electrified crowds. He main-evented WWE and the NWA at the same time. As I type that, it seems a bit blah, blah, blah.
The best thing to say about Dusty is that he was special. Unique. You couldn’t imitate him. No one tries. Following that act would be impossible. Dusty wanted those he taught to find their own personality. He found his. It served him well.
WWE would be well served to remember that if Dusty Rhodes came along today, WWE wouldn’t give him a chance. He didn’t look like the athlete of the day is supposed to look. His belly was a little too big. His hiney was a little too big.
But he was bad, and we all knew he was bad.
I remember, vividly, Dusty talking about how he would repel the Four Horsemen when they hit the ring, knocking each down with a chorus line of bionic elbows: “Pow, pow, pow, pow and then pow, and you leave J.J. [Dillon] lying on the ring apron doing the hully-gully.”
I’m in tears right now. I’d give anything to see that one more time.
Dusty Rhodes, R.I.P.
To his NXT protégés: Dream big, and dream on.
Follow Mark on Twitter: @MarkMaddenX
