When you’re a child, imagination fills in the gaps of narrative details and the ways of the world that aren’t entirely clear. For instance, how was it that a prominent WCW wrestler from 1995 and 1996 seemed to be competing against another wrestling legend in my hometown’s high school gym in the fall of 1997? As Jake the Snake Roberts, who lived about 12 miles from my home, was the face opponent, I assumed that One Man Gang, aka Akeem the African Dream, was merely doing a favor for Jake by wrestling in his home area.
It took me a while to realize the naiveté of that assumption. In reality, Jake Roberts had relapsed after his “born again” gimmick in the WWF in 1996, which had elevated Stone Cold at King of the Ring. He was back wrestling in small venues, not just our high school gym. What had George Gray, One Man Gang’s real name, done to deserve such a demotion? Considering he would be part of the Gimmick Battle Royale at WrestleMania X-7 just four years later, alongside legends like Iron Sheik, Michael Hayes, and Kamala, the answer is simple: the business had moved on from George Gray’s gimmicks.
If you first encountered Gray through his WWF gimmick switch from One Man Gang to the racially insensitive Akeem “the African Dream” Dusty Rhodes parody, you might wonder why I ever considered One Man Gang a mainstream player. McMahon’s decision to turn Gray into Akeem, a controversial dancing white guy from Africa, is often remembered as one of the more regrettable aspects of Gray’s long career.
But I was born in 1983 and was only ten or eleven before I began seeking out wrestling on television. My enjoyment of early Hulkamania in the WWF came from renting tapes of the previous years from my local video store. The wrestling I eagerly tuned into weekly was early to mid-1990s WCW.
Imagine a twelve-year-old like me seeing WCW bring in One Man Gang, a guy I recognized from those early PPV tapes, who had eliminated my favorite Jake the Snake from the first Royal Rumble. Within a short span, I saw WCW put the United States Heavyweight Title on Gang, watched him boot Yetti/Super Giant Ninja from the Dungeon of Doom, and saw him booked in a non-title match against Hulk Hogan on Monday Nitro. He even lasted until the end with Macho Man Randy Savage in the first-ever World War 3 60-man battle royal for the vacant WCW World Title. To me, One Man Gang was a central heel in 1995 and 1996. His presence and accomplishments made him seem like a formidable force in pro wrestling.
In reality, the Dungeon of Doom angle was mercilessly mocked by wrestling media and more discerning fans. That US Title reign was merely a way to get the title off a non-contracted Japanese wrestler who refused to drop the belt, only to have it handed to another international star from Mexico shortly after. His successful title defense on Clash of Champions was against the joke gimmick Disco Inferno. The match against Hogan on Nitro was just another attempt by the fading babyface Hogan to replicate his old WWF formula of defeating larger, comic book-like characters.
By the fall of 1997, I hadn’t yet grasped this perspective on wrestling history. So, Jake the Snake versus One Man Gang in my hometown high school gym was a significant event for me. Gray should be remembered beyond the Akeem parody. We don’t have many survivors from the transition period between the late territory days and the rise of WWE in the aftermath of the Monday Night Wars. In fact, I’m not sure if there are any. But Gray certainly made the rounds through most major promotions. He started as an independent wrestler, simply known as the 6’9”, 400-pound “Crusher” Bloomfield, trained by Chief Jay Eagle and “Rattlesnake” Westbrooks in the Carolinas. From the late 70s through the late 80s, he wrestled for major promotions like Mid-South, World Class Championship Wrestling, Bill Watts’ UWF, and the Memphis mainstay USWA.
Legendary manager Gary Hart is credited with developing the One Man Gang persona. Hart, a tough Chicago native, remade Gray into a kind of Road Warriors-type street tough, complete with a mohawk, head tattoo, and biker attire. Billed from “Halsted Street” in Chicago, One Man Gang carried a large chain and made a significant impact in the late 80s and early 90s.
Eventually, Vince McMahon, always keen to create a new gimmick, transformed One Man Gang into Akeem, the African Dream. The skits featuring “Africa” with dilapidated streets and trash fires were mean-spirited and racially insensitive.
Despite this, Gray had notable success. He was paired with Big Boss Man as the Twin Towers and played a key role in the dissolution of the friendship between Hulk Hogan and Randy Savage, culminating in the epic WrestleMania V battle between Hogan and Savage. He even appeared in the 1992 film Stay Tuned, which parodied the WWF as The Underworld Wrestling Foundation.
As the mid-90s progressed, the wrestling landscape shifted towards more realistic, less gimmick-driven wrestlers like Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels. By the time Gray returned to WCW, fans had lost interest in the comic book-style villains featured in the Dungeon of Doom.
One of my most vivid memories of Gray’s WCW run was his victory over Kensuke Sasaki for the US Heavyweight Title. To me, it was a testament to WCW’s push of a dominant heel. In reality, Sasaki was a cross-promotional talent from Japan who was unwilling to drop the belt back to WCW. To resolve this, WCW booked a 2 out of 3 falls match where Gang won the first fall, but Sasaki won the next two. WCW only aired the first fall, leading viewers to believe Sasaki lost cleanly.
When WCW partnered with Konnan’s AAA promotion from Mexico, OMG lost the title to Konnan, who was being positioned as a credible star in the American promotion. From then on, Gray was relegated to being just another Dungeon of Doom member until leaving WCW in late 1996, around the time when the nWo and “reality” based storylines began to phase out gimmicks. He made appearances in ECW in 1998 and 1999, feuding with Shane Douglas, Sabu, and Rob Van Dam.
Gray’s mainstream send-off came with the Gimmick Battle Royal in 2001, though he continued to appear at independent and “Heroes of Wrestling” style shows through the early 2010s.
Today, a plethora of shoot interviews with George Gray are available on YouTube, where he shares his insights on the business and fellow wrestlers. A survivor who toured both the territories and major promotions, participated in storied storylines, and wrestled alongside the legends of the business. It’s great that his stories are being documented and remembered.
