Bruce Fish Sr.

I asked French if he ever met Bruce Fish Senior?  He said that "he had once or twice, when I was a kid".  This is more or less what French related to me:

I was biking up the road, and saw a strange truck in Bruce Fish's lane way.  There were a coupla big lads out front.  I decided to check it out.  There was a guy at the kitchen table with his hair combed back in a pompadour.  He was drinking a coffee and smoking a cigarette.  Bruce Fish's mom wouldn't even look at this man.  Bruce Fish wouldn't take his eyes off him.

Bruce Fish Sr. was a professional wrestler, but he spent most of the time down in the States in various promotions.  There was a long awkward silence, but I eventually asked him about wrestling.  He said: "yeah I gotta story".

I was wrestling outta St. Louis.  I was hot, young and didn't know shit, but I thought I did.  I didn't respect all the dumb marks who paid to see our shows.  Worse, I didn't respect the older workers who had never made it big.  I was gonna be big.  I talked a lotta shit behind a lotta backs.  One night we drove to Fargo.  The promoter stiffed me, said that the "draw was short so no payday".  I was depending on that money to get back home.  I went into a diner to stay warm, and the oldest beat up worker; the one I made fun of more than any other was in there.  He called me to his table, we talked, he bought the meals, and lent me some gas money.  Being humbled....that's wrestling.

With that Bruce Fish's dad ruffled little Bruce's hair, kissed his wife and drove off to the next show.