Magazine Archives: The Greatest Story Never Told: The Fake AWA

As first seen in issue 2 of FightfulMag.com!

By Mike Straw

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As he looks down towards the floor, Jonnie Stewartlets out a sigh.

Just by the sound and tone, he was clearly upset by what he was just asked: Was AWA Superstars LIVE!, later known as Dale Gagne presents Wrestling Superstars Live!, nothing more than a traveling circus run by a con man?

“It hurts my feelings because they weren’t there on the phone, you know, with my stomach in my mouth,” Stewart explained. “When the WWF tells me, ‘I can’t give you Kane,’ or the other wrestlers tell me, ‘Well, Val Venisdoesn’t feel like doing it.’

“Why are we not judged with the same yardstick that people judge Jim Cornette, Paul Dangerously [Heyman], Angelo Savildo... I don’t get that.”

The mid-to-late 1990s were some of the most successful years the professional wrestling business has ever seen. Major promotions like the World Wrestling Federation (WWF) and World Championship Wrestling (WCW) were not only drawing record television ratings and crowds, but they were making more money than at any other point in time. And with the sport’s mainstream attention, it wasn’t just the “big boys” reaping all of the benefits. Smaller promotions took advantage of the business’ booming popularity as well.

Case and point, AWA Superstars LIVE!. A promotion started to build off the legacy of the American Wrestling Association (AWA) that the legendary Verne Gagnebegan in 1960 as the American Wrestling Alliance.

Dale Gagner had spent time working for Gagne as an independent contractor starting in 1988. Gagner would sell wrestling shows to various venues such as local fairs and casinos. It wasn’t long, however, before Gagner began to attempt to overreach his boundaries. In 1990, he was let go from the original AWA for allegedly starting his own wrestling company and selling competing shows.

That resulted in a court-ordered temporary injunction that prohibited Gagner from using the AWA name in May 1990. Not long after, the AWA filed for bankruptcy and shuttered in 1991. In 1992, as one last effort to protect his promotion’s legacy, Gagne was able to convince a federal court to put in place a permanent injunction to ban Gagner from using the AWA name.

Fast forward a few years later, and Gagner was working as a marketing professional for a hotel chain in Minnesota. Despite what was claimed as “good money,” Gagner felt like he needed a career change. After working a couple of wrestling events on the side, Gagner believed that career change came in the form of, once again, selling wrestling events.

On June 17, 1996, undeterred by the prior court rulings, Gagner and Stewart filed paperwork to revive the American Wrestling Association as an assumed business name with the Minnesota Secretary of State. Because the injunction was against filing a trademark, this route gave Gagner a loophole to use the name.

Now going by AWA Superstars of Wrestling, the AWA was (sort of) back with a plan to take advantage of the national interest in the sport in both the United States and Canada. The new AWA would travel to various fairs and arenas in North America and reach agreements with owners to produce a wrestling show. However, rather than what fans think of as a traveling roster of wrestlers coming to town, Gagner would receive a certain amount of money from these arena or fair managers and use that to pay for various talent to come in for the event.

Think of it as a middleman sort of agreement. Gagner sold an event to a venue and was responsible for getting butts in seats.

After getting things organized, the new version of the promotion would kick off in 1999 with a simple press release stating that the AWA was coming back. At this time, Gagner assumed the last name of “Gagne” to pass off being a relative of the past AWA owner.

“I was at school in Arizona, in Tucson, in ‘98,” current AEW and former Wrestling Superstars Live ring announcer Justin Robertssaid. “And when I saw the AWA was coming back, I figured, ‘Whoa! That’s big, and it’s in Bullhead City, Arizona?’”

Roberts would be flown out by Gagner to Bullhead City, which is right on the Arizona and Nevada border, and offer his ring announcing services. It was the first show, April 22, 1999, where Roberts would learn quickly what he was getting himself into.

“Val Venis, Jim “The Anvil” Neidhart, and Sablewere all advertised,” Roberts revealed. “And do you want to guess how many of them were there?”

Of those three names, none of them appeared at the show. Fans were treated to the likes of 44-year-old (at the time) King Kong Bundyand a WCW Nitro Girl that wasn’t actually a Nitro Girl. She was a local woman they found in the yellow pages they put a WCW shirt on and advertised her as a Nitro Girl.

Instead of saying, “Thanks, but no thanks,” Roberts continued to work for Gagner to continue to learn about the business and gain valuable experience that would help him later in his career.

After the first show Roberts worked had three advertised wrestlers not appear, Gagner continued to promote wrestlers that weren’t signed to a contract to either show or wrestle on the card. From Val Venis to Mick Foleyto Kane, Gagner and his version of the AWA started a stigma of false advertising throughout its run.

One such night was a show in Jackson, Michigan, where Kane was advertised for an event in front of an estimated 2,300 fans. Instead of Kane appearing, though, fans were treated to the Brooklyn Brawlerand Dan Severn. Fans didn’t care about the rest of the show, Roberts said, because the main attraction wasn’t there.

“It was an ongoing battle, and I would always try to convince him [Gagner], and he’d say that he’s not going to do it anymore,” Roberts said. “Then, he’d advertise someone, and I’d ask, ‘Do you really have them?,’ and he’d assure me that we did. And then the same deal.”

On the other hand, Stewart believes that the false advertising claims are a part of Gagner’s legacy that gets blown out of proportion. He felt that it was just another way people who didn’t know or care to know the full story tried to knock what Gagner, Stewart, and the AWA were attempting.

To the Kane point, Stewart stated the deal was agreed upon between him and the then-WWF. It wasn’t until the last minute that Stewart was told that Kane wouldn’t be there due to being booked for a commercial or shoot of some sort.

Stewart had spoken with the company’s talent relations department, something he feels should debunk any “Vince hated us” rumors. During the call, he asked who he could get for $2,500, was offered Kane, and made plans to get back in touch four weeks before the show to finalize all of the details. After the call, Stewart and Gagner believed they had Kane booked, so advertisements for the popular wrestler began.

“The show hasn’t been contracted [to the venue] on any name,” he said.

Four weeks before the show, Stewart called to send over the contract only to be told that not only could Kane not make it but there was no one else that could be sent as a replacement. “You can say whether I’m right or wrong, but we did not contract the show with any name, promising anyone,” Stewart said. “Hence, ‘card subject to change’ that’s been used for 70 years.”

He added that maybe things weren’t done in the best possible way in that instance because they did put Kane in the advertising without having a signed contract. An hour before the show, they told the head of the fair board for the event that Kane wouldn’t be there.

“Justin [Roberts] makes the announcement, and we refunded $121,” Stewart said. “I think seven people wanted their money back while everybody else in the audience wanted a wrestling show.”

No-shows weren’t the only problem that people began to have with the promotion. There were even times where a wrestler would be advertised only for someone else to come to the ring dressed as the advertised name. The most controversial occurrence to many was in Greeley, Colorado, at an event called the Greeley Stampede. The event sold nearly 5,000 tickets based on the advertised appearance of The Ultimate Warrior, who, even in the late 90s, was still a major name to wrestling fans.

Instead of The Ultimate Warrior, fans were treated to a guy known as The Luminous Warriorfrom Texas. Dressed as The Ultimate Warrior, he ran down to the ring to the classic theme, ran around the ring, and shook the ropes despite not being overly comfortable with it.

“People bought it,” Roberts said.

“No one cared about The Ultimate Warrior,” Stewart said. “People were just sitting there when the music hit, and the guy looked identical.”

Stewart equated to the events being put on similar to that of the Academy Awards. Fans didn’t come to shows that sold 5,000 or 6,000 tickets for a single person. They came for the whole event and the attraction of a wrestling show.

It wasn’t just the fake Ultimate Warrior that got people’s attention, though. At a show in Bozeman, Montana, the tag team Demolitionwas advertised. What fans got was one of Gagner’s regularly-used tag teams coming out to Demolition’s music in gear that resembled that of the legendary team.

Fans, according to Roberts, were quick to point out that it wasn’t who they were promised, leading to visible anger from the crowd. “We had a getaway car ready to go at the end of the show,” he said.

While wrestlers pretending to be other wrestlers sounds terrible, it doesn’t come close on the cringe scale to moments where Gagner used non-talent for matches during shows.

One show in Nebraska had Stewart go to a Wal-Mart, find a random woman, and have her work a match against him, in drag, at that night’s show. Another show had an issue with a few booked wrestlers looking like they weren’t going to make it. To make sure there were enough workers for the matches, the Twin Turbostag team took a kid who claimed to be a backyard wrestler out of the crowd and trained him up a bit with the intention of working the show. Luckily, the other talent made it on time, avoiding what could’ve been a huge mess for the promotion.

From wrestlers not appearing to fake ones being used, it happened enough that Roberts felt conflicted at times when having to tell fans that a certain wrestler wouldn’t be on the show.

“I would always try to talk to him, and be like, ‘You’re putting on good shows if you didn’t have this at the end of the night where the show gets ruined because we’re announcing that somebody advertised isn’t going to be there.’,” he said.

And just because the stories are out there regarding what many believe to be false advertising or misled venue operators and fans, that didn’t mean fans weren’t treated to entertaining shows from both stars of wrestling’s past as well as younger talent.

Some of the presented cards included matches like CM Punkvs. Road Dogg, appearances from Brian “Grand Master Sexay” Christopher at the height of the popularity of Too Cool, and even Vampiroduring his time in WCW. Fans were given quality shows, both Roberts and Stewart said. But while Roberts was worried about the fan reactions to those who weren’t there despite being advertised, Stewart continued with the belief that it didn’t matter because fans got a good show.

Yet for every show that legitimately included a Roddy Piperor an autograph session featuring over 8,000 fans lining up to meet The Rock, there was another that just left you scratching your head.

With the AWA in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, Roberts recalled driving to the show and seeing a billboard with questionable advertising on it. The billboard showcased the WWF logo, the WCW logo, and the AWA logo as presenting “Summerslam.”

It was a case of something that didn’t need to be done, especially with what the show presented. It was an event featuring Sgt. Slaughter, who worked for the WWF at the time; former WWF superstar General Adnan; and WCW’s Vampiro.

Vampiro was only scheduled for a signing that night, but because of the large crowd size, he asked to work a match. Gagner then booked Vampiro and Stewart, where Vampiro picked up the win. Working that night led Vampiro to be fined by WCW for working when he wasn’t signed.

For those working for the AWA, it was a justification that, even with the false advertisements, you couldn’t write things off. Gagner would manage to land known and current talent for shows.

Nevertheless, instead of using a positive moment as a learning point, the advertisements continued including wrestlers that were never going to make an appearance at the show. The biggest being an advertised appearance in Laughlin, Nevada, with the aforementioned Foley as his Mankindpersona.

At this point, Mankind was one of the biggest names in the wrestling business. A three-time WWF Champion, Mankind’s name alone was enough to get people to buy tickets to a show. According to Stewart, the AWA was under the impression that Foley would be there under a “yeah, I’m free” type of agreement which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best thing to go on for a booking.

Foley never made it to that show due to being booked elsewhere that night, which just so happened to be the night after his classic Hell in a Cell match against Triple Hat WWF’s No Way Out pay-per-view. Instead, Roberts had to announce that Foley wouldn’t be there due to losing a career-ending match the previous Sunday.

Behind the curtain, Gagner was trying to have someone dress up as Mankind and go out in front of the crowd. A move that, had it happened, would’ve resulted in objects being thrown and fans demanding refunds. “I had to grab a pipe in Laughlin and make the announcement about Foley,” Roberts said. “I thought they were going to rush the ring.”

He added that a show that advertised Chynafor a match even though she was only scheduled for a signing gave him that same feeling about fans rushing the ring. It got to the point, for Roberts at least, that he would have serious questions about whether it was worth sticking with the company after seeing fans be misled multiple times.

“I used to call Bundy and call people to try to get advice like, ‘What do I do?’,” Roberts said. “I appreciate being on these shows. I’m getting flown out; I’m getting paid; I’m getting experience and exposure. I’m even getting to work with George “The Animal” Steele, King Kong Bundy, the Bushwackers, you know, guys who’ve been around. But, at the same time, what he’s doing is dishonest, and I would get strung along quite a bit.”

Roberts, who admitted he tried to give Gagner the benefit of the doubt more often than not, equated it to a mix of gaslighting and a boy who cried wolf type of environment.

“I always tried to believe him, and many times I could because he did come through,” he said.

One of those times was when Gagner managed to get The Rock, the biggest name in the wrestling business, at the time, to appear. Roberts found himself in the ring with The Rock while Gagner was shaking his hand. It was a moment that Roberts believed “only Dale” could make happen.

“The Rock showed up in Brooklyn, and 8,000 people are snaked around the neighborhood,” Stewart said. “There were fire trucks and squad cars. It looked like a riot. We handed his [The Rock] lawyer a check for $32,500, the highest payday of a wrestler at an independent show. Does anybody know that about Dale?”

For what a big moment like that would bring, outside of wrestling, Gagner’s world wasn’t as pretty. From money issues centered around his former web developer to other personal demons, it can be argued that Gagner’s ordinary life impacted his wrestling life.

Gagner is someone who has openly struggled with alcoholism. Throughout his tenure in and out of the wrestling business, Gagner had his problems that, as anyone who’s suffered from the illness knows, could impact not only what he did but what he thought. He found himself in and out of rehab and treatment facilities while still trying to have what he believed was a good lifestyle.

Because of those demons and the goal of putting on the best wrestling shows possible for the fans who paid to see them, it could be said that Gagner was able to convince himself that someone was showing up whether they were officially booked or not.

“That might have been it,” Stewart said of Gagner’s ability to convince himself of a wrestler’s appearance. “But that’s the easy thing to do: focus on the five or six times where we failed and where we operated in the gray area, and use that to say that Dale is a con man [and never came through].”

The fact of the matter, Stewart says, is that every wrestler that worked with him and Gagner always got paid. If they happened to work multiple times in a night, which many did as they portrayed various superstars like Doink The Clownand even Golga, they got paid more for their efforts.

“Every wrestler got paid and treated like a star,” Stewart said.

Roberts added that personally, being treated as well as he was by Gagner was something he never expected as a young announcer. Here was a guy breaking into the business, learning the ropes as he traveled across the country, and was given a pseudo red carpet treatment by Gagner time and time again.

“He flew out an unknown college kid who had never done anything and who wasn’t very good,” he said. “I was just going out there, saying names, and being a mark who just got to have fun. I won’t forget that.”

As the AWA shows continued across North America through the early-to-mid 2000s, another major battle was brewing in the background.

In January 2003, the World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) had acquired the AWA trademark and tape library in a payment of a reported $3 million to the Gagne family. Though WWE now owned the rights to the name, Gagner would continue to “sell” the rights to use the AWA name and logo to various promoters. That included organizations like AWA Rocky Mountain Championship, AWA Power Pro Wrestling, and countless others.

After moments that saw Gagner allegedly charge $1,000 deposits for a wrestler to hold the AWA World Heavyweight Championship to continuing to tell promoters that they would be a part of the legacy of the AWA, things came to a head for Gagner and his promotion.

On April 25, 2007, the WWE, an organization that had a history of providing talent to Gagner and Stewart for shows, filed a lawsuit against Gagner, claiming that he was infringing on the WWE-owned AWA trademark.

It was a case covered by media outlets across the United States, on top of every wrestling outlet. What was going to happen when the mighty Vince McMahonand the WWE came down towards Gagner and the AWA?

The first thing to address was a long-running rumor that Gagner and Stewart had purchased the AWA out of bankruptcy, one that Gagner added fuel to the fire of back in 2010 in an interview with the Minneapolis, Minnesota, news outlet City Pages. Gagner told the publication that he purchased the rights to the AWA name for $2,500. That was never the case.

Stewart says that for just under $100, he and Gagner got the legal OK from Minnesota to be wrestling promoters and use “American Wrestling Association,” “A.W.A” and “AWA All-Star Wrestling.”

The original AWA itself, Stewart claims, was never a true business entity. Based on his knowledge and findings, it was simply a name that Verne Gagne would use when running wrestling.

“Verne owned the Minneapolis Boxing and Wrestling Club, and that is what went bankrupt,” Stewart said about the AWA name and the claims that he and Gagner “rescued it” from bankruptcy. He added that in early 1998, he called the Minnesota Secretary of State and asked if the American Wrestling Association could be used and was told it could be.

“He never garnered the name in the state of Minnesota, legally, ‘American Wrestling Association,’” Stewart said.

Despite it not being registered in a single state, a look through the history of the United States Patent and Trademark Offices shows that a trademark for “American Wrestling Association - AWA - The Major League Of Professional Wrestling” was filed in December 1985, officially registered in September 1990, and marked as “dead” in March 1997.

Stewart, who remains upset to this day that “not one wrestling journalist” reached out to them to get their side of the story, is adamant that the reincarnated AWA did nothing wrong, and they were within their legal rights to do what was being done.

“I kept telling them [WWE lawyers] that we were licensed to do business as the American Wrestling Association and that I didn’t care where this lawsuit goes,” he said. “If I wanted to put up a 60-story office building that said ‘American Wrestling Association’, the Secretary of State of Minnesota said I have every right to do that.”

Stewart believes that it wasn’t really McMahon behind the lawsuit. Rather, he thinks it was led by marketing, who saw the logo was being used somewhere and went on their own because of merchandise plans.

“His public relations department coached me,” Stewart said about when he was making media appearances shortly after the murder-suicide involving Chris Benoit and his family. “So you have the WWE coaching a person going on national TV that they’re using at the same time. It didn’t add up with everyone.”

Stewart says that, through the whole process, both he and Gagner were just waiting for a phone call asking to remove the AWA logo and change the name. They never expected the lawsuit to go where it went, and some in the WWE didn’t expect it either.

“I called John Laurinaitis, and he goes, ‘What lawsuit?’” Stewart said. “I asked him if he knew Vince was suing me, and he’s like, ‘No, nobody knows that.’”

Laurinaitis even said, according to Stewart, that McMahon likely didn’t know about the lawsuit either.

The court case focused on a single aspect: did Gagner and Stewart trademark American Wrestling Association. The answer, of course, was no.

“We were not delusions of grandeur,” Stewart said. “Dale and I didn’t expect a TV, worldwide wrestling organization. We just wanted to run some shows, so I never thought to trademark the American Wrestling Association, which was dead.”

And though it was federally trademarked, as previously mentioned, it was never licensed in Minnesota. And when the trademark was dead, Stewart admits that he could have attempted to file the trademark himself but never did. “Shame on me,” he said. “I didn’t have illusions that this was going to be as big as that it, maybe, got at times for Dale and I.”

Stewart is under the impression that the WWE spent over $150,000 on the lawsuit against him and Dale, which he felt was unnecessary. Gagner had the mindset, Stewart feels, that the best way was just picking up the phone and making that simple call.

“All they had to say was, ‘Hey, I know we worked together, but here’s what we got going on,’” he said. “They never gave that chance for us to be gentlemen. They wanted to play hardball.”

Over a year after the initial suit filing, the case was closed in December 2008 when a federal judge ruled that Gagner couldn’t lay claim to the AWA name in any capacity. A ruling Gagner continued to dispute as the years passed due to his belief that WWE only had the right to the tape library that wasn’t part of the original AWA bankruptcy and not the entity name itself.

After the case was closed, Gagner, according to the City Pages report, allegedly continued to put on a front as being connected with the AWA despite rebranding the events as Dale Gagne presents Wrestling Superstars Live.

He would even continue to allegedly request a retainer fee from wrestlers with the guise of putting a championship title on them. The retainer, according to at least two promoters, was to allow the wrestler to have physical custody of the championship, which would then be returned upon losing.

As the negative reputation around Gagner and his promotion tactics continued post-lawsuit, shows continued to be run across the country. However, it was clear that the business just wasn’t what it used to be at any level.

Wrestling’s mainstream popularity continued to take a downturn in the mid-2000s, and things needed to improve to draw a crowd. One story that made the rounds back in 2008 was that of a fan winning a car to end up not getting what he had expected.

The story goes that 57-year-old Fred Jaffe received a “miracle” when he won a car during an event featuring WWE Hall of Famer Honky Tonk Man. After winning the vehicle, Jaffe claimed that the 1992 Pontiac Grand Prix needed repairs to be in a truly driveable state. Rather than the car, Jaffe said that he opted for tickets to a Milwaukee Brewers game and $300, of which he received just the baseball tickets.

The story was picked up by local news and wrestling outlets as what Stewart viewed as another way to attack the name of Gagner. Though, as truth would have it, Gagner wasn’t even involved in the promotion of the event in question at all.

“That was my show,” Stewart said. “And that was my car dealership’s car.”

Stewart was told by the general manager of the Racine Civic Center that each raffle ticket was different. When the time came to draw for the prize, two people came up with tickets that matched the winning number. Stewart claimed he got the information of each winner and would contact them to settle things.

“The first guy that came up had special needs,” Stewart said. “He wasn’t going to need the car, so I said, ‘Look, the car is worth about $400, and you have to buy license plates.’

“I bought them two tickets to the Cubs/Brewers game, and I gave him, I think, $100. The other kid never called me back. I don’t know what he would’ve wanted.”

The story that made the rounds, including in the local newspaper of the man never receiving any money, Stewart says, is a complete fabrication of the truth.

“He was offered two tickets and $100, valued at $300,” he said. “That is the legit, 100% story.”

Moving forward, the promotion wasn’t drawing the way it had during the wrestling boom, and the writing was clearly on the wall that the time of Wrestling Superstars Live was coming to an end. There were popup shows around between 2008 and 2012, but the last event took place in May 2014 in Oneonta, New York, a town 30 minutes south of Cooperstown.

Taking place inside a baseball stadium, the show had advertised Mick Foley, former members of the Spirit Squad, and even a youngAdam Colewho all showed up to participate in the final event. It also happened to be Stewart’s last match, as he decided to retire.

And for as monumental as the show was for those involved, it wasn’t the event that left a lasting impact. It was what happened after.

Gagner called Stewart to have everyone come into a different locker room after cleaning up for the night. Once everyone was dressed, every wrestler who attended that last show walked into the other room to see suited waiters with silver serving dishes.

Gagner had catered steak dinners for everyone involved in the event.

“These were guys where some of them had never been treated like that, and they were stupefied,” Stewart said with a smile. “Mick Foley just looked around and said, ‘This is Dale Gagner.’

“There were stories, steaks, and people with tuxedos serving us. It was the epitaph of Dale and what we did for those 10-plus years.”

In the face of everything that ended poorly at times for Gagner and his attempted revival of the AWA, Stewart and Roberts both had and keep an appreciation for a man who just wanted to send wrestling fans home happy every night.

“It’s refreshing to look back now, 20 years later, and recognize and appreciate all of the good that came from working for AWA,” Roberts said. “The experience in my role on the mic, the large live crowds, the talent from around the country, getting to work around the country and the legends I was able to both meet and learn from, and also appreciate the entertaining shows Dale always did put on with whatever talent was there.

“If it wasn’t for AWA and Dale, I don’t know how far I would have gone or how early I would have gotten there.”

“He’s like theAndy Dufresneof the wrestling business,” Stewart said. “They’re afraid to let it out that this guy —amongst his foibles and warts and downfalls —this guy did what no other independent wrestling promoter has done ever since and probably never will.”

Mike Straw joined Fightful in 2016 and has been affiliated ever since. Outside of the website, he’s covered video games and hockey extensively.

Twitter: @MikeStrawMedia