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I WAS ACCUSED OF MURDER, PART 2
– Dick Steinborn
April 22, 2008
Nowadays there are no veterans. The boys get out of the business after 7-10 years on average.
That night in Baltimore my opponent was a veteran of twenty-two years. His name was Les Ruffen. He weighed 240 pounds. He
reminded me of Finlay with WWE: same actions, same moves, and same aggressiveness.
Les had a couple of teeth missing, and when he came at you in the ring with that mouth open, you couldn’t help but believe that he
was going to eat you up, and that he did. His performances around New York and the eastern seaboard were seen by thousands who
never saw him win a match, but he laid them in. The boys used to warn each other when they went in the ring with him. I knew about his
style, but I was about to be tested.
My weight was only 190 pounds, yet I could move fast enough to convince the fans that I was capable of holding my own with this vicious
veteran. Boy, I’ll tell you one thing, he laid them in alright. All of his opponents had welts on them across their bodies at the end of
their matches. Ringsiders were always convinced of his blows to his opponent because they sounded so loud and so real. In other
words my first match with him was surely not like what I did on a walkthrough with Les back in New York in my dad’s gym.
Two or three minutes into our match I could see where the sympathy of the crowd was building to a crescendo. The noise got louder and
louder, and all I did was follow his whispering command. I did what he led me into, continuing to whisper to me, “Sell, sell�. I
started to feel the welts the boys were talking about. “It was okay�, I thought, I was where I wanted to be. “I can take it.� Then
the magic word: “Come back�, said Les. That was my cue to start fighting back harder than normal, and then going into that last
high spot.
When I practiced that leapfrog at my dad’s gym, my jump came off of a solid foundation. The ring in Baltimore had a spring to it. I then
learned that wrestling rings will always give you that extra 2-4 inches of extra height, even for dropkicks.
After the leapfrog, and the shoe coming across the ring, I wound up in the dressing room at the end of the match.
As I was taking one of my boots off, six legionnaires carried this human body into my dressing room and laid him on the medicine table
in front of me. During my match, he suffered a heart attack. As I sat there, I was stunned beyond belief. I had never seen a dead person
before and it was quite emotional to say the least.
I’d like to inject the fact that genetically I picked up a lot of strength from my dad, and more so inherited my mother’s compassion
The hallway was filled with the boys who had now stuck their heads around the door and watched the attendant doctor hold a
stethoscope to the victim’s chest.
�He’s gone�, said the doctor.
It was like watching a TV drama unfold in front of me, and then I made the big mistake. Of course, it was revealing to see what my eyes
were looking at. I stared at his head; a man of about forty years of age. Then as my eyes ran down his body, I was in for a big surprise. He
had only one shoe on and then I blurted out to everyone, “Look, he’s only got one shoe on, He’s the guy who threw the shoe
at Les in our match.�
�You killed him, Dickie�, was a voice that penetrated the room. I didn’t pay any attention to the giggling in the background.
There was a hesitation and then I heard, “Murderer.�
It was all too much for me at age 17. I didn’t want to be there anymore. It was really breathtaking because my soft side was now
wondering if he had a wife and kids.
I quickly changed in the dressing room. I got to the train station headed back toward New York and a short time later completely broke
down at what I had done in my first match.
The glory of the win didn’t mean anything. I was wondering what I was going to tell my mother when I got back to my apartment in
Queens. I knew she would agree with me when I decided to tell her, “I don’t want to be wrestler anymore�. That idea consoled
me on that train ride that night.
– Dick Steinborn
April 22, 2008
Nowadays there are no veterans. The boys get out of the business after 7-10 years on average.
That night in Baltimore my opponent was a veteran of twenty-two years. His name was Les Ruffen. He weighed 240 pounds. He
reminded me of Finlay with WWE: same actions, same moves, and same aggressiveness.
Les had a couple of teeth missing, and when he came at you in the ring with that mouth open, you couldn’t help but believe that he
was going to eat you up, and that he did. His performances around New York and the eastern seaboard were seen by thousands who
never saw him win a match, but he laid them in. The boys used to warn each other when they went in the ring with him. I knew about his
style, but I was about to be tested.
My weight was only 190 pounds, yet I could move fast enough to convince the fans that I was capable of holding my own with this vicious
veteran. Boy, I’ll tell you one thing, he laid them in alright. All of his opponents had welts on them across their bodies at the end of
their matches. Ringsiders were always convinced of his blows to his opponent because they sounded so loud and so real. In other
words my first match with him was surely not like what I did on a walkthrough with Les back in New York in my dad’s gym.
Two or three minutes into our match I could see where the sympathy of the crowd was building to a crescendo. The noise got louder and
louder, and all I did was follow his whispering command. I did what he led me into, continuing to whisper to me, “Sell, sell�. I
started to feel the welts the boys were talking about. “It was okay�, I thought, I was where I wanted to be. “I can take it.� Then
the magic word: “Come back�, said Les. That was my cue to start fighting back harder than normal, and then going into that last
high spot.
When I practiced that leapfrog at my dad’s gym, my jump came off of a solid foundation. The ring in Baltimore had a spring to it. I then
learned that wrestling rings will always give you that extra 2-4 inches of extra height, even for dropkicks.
After the leapfrog, and the shoe coming across the ring, I wound up in the dressing room at the end of the match.
As I was taking one of my boots off, six legionnaires carried this human body into my dressing room and laid him on the medicine table
in front of me. During my match, he suffered a heart attack. As I sat there, I was stunned beyond belief. I had never seen a dead person
before and it was quite emotional to say the least.
I’d like to inject the fact that genetically I picked up a lot of strength from my dad, and more so inherited my mother’s compassion
The hallway was filled with the boys who had now stuck their heads around the door and watched the attendant doctor hold a
stethoscope to the victim’s chest.
�He’s gone�, said the doctor.
It was like watching a TV drama unfold in front of me, and then I made the big mistake. Of course, it was revealing to see what my eyes
were looking at. I stared at his head; a man of about forty years of age. Then as my eyes ran down his body, I was in for a big surprise. He
had only one shoe on and then I blurted out to everyone, “Look, he’s only got one shoe on, He’s the guy who threw the shoe
at Les in our match.�
�You killed him, Dickie�, was a voice that penetrated the room. I didn’t pay any attention to the giggling in the background.
There was a hesitation and then I heard, “Murderer.�
It was all too much for me at age 17. I didn’t want to be there anymore. It was really breathtaking because my soft side was now
wondering if he had a wife and kids.
I quickly changed in the dressing room. I got to the train station headed back toward New York and a short time later completely broke
down at what I had done in my first match.
The glory of the win didn’t mean anything. I was wondering what I was going to tell my mother when I got back to my apartment in
Queens. I knew she would agree with me when I decided to tell her, “I don’t want to be wrestler anymore�. That idea consoled
me on that train ride that night.
