Let's go home for Christmas...

Every year in December at Georgia Championship Wrestling we would close down for the week leading up to Christmas Day. Since I worked in the office I always looked forward to getting away for a few days. I was born and raised in Atlanta, but my wife's parents lived in Columbus, Ga. and it gave me a chance to get away from the phone and hide. We always ran two shows on Christmas.

We always ran the Omni in Atlanta that night and most of the time Columbus, Ga. in the afternoon. I don't remember the year but we were shutting down on a Saturday this particular year. We had done Atlanta TV that morning and we were at Columbus TV that afternoon. Christmas was on a Thursday and we had a Big Battle Royal scheduled as the main event. Columbus TV was live and the deal was we were going to have about 15 or 16 guys in the ring as the show went off the air. This would be the last thing the fans saw, thus hopefully wetting their appetites for Christmas afternoon.

J.C. Dykes was managing the Infernos at this time. This incarnation of the Infernos was Curtis Smith and Don Greene. Curtis is what you wished all the guys in our business was. A great worker, easy to get along, a great all around guy. Don Greene was exactly the same, and in addition he is one of the funniest people I have ever met. But this story is about J.C..

Jimmy Dykes was one of the finest gentlemen this business or any other business has ever known.  He treated you with respect and was a pleasure to be around. There are not enough true gentlemen to go around. We lost him much too soon and he is missed by all who knew and worked with him.

TV went just as it was supposed to. A ring full of wrestlers, a referee, and a manager, Mr. J.C. Dykes running around the ring with TV time running out. In the midst of this melee J.C. comes running up to me, the referee with his hands cupped over his mouth and nose and says "hit me in the nose"! I looked at him puzzled as to what was going on and again he shouts at me "Hit me in the nose". So I draw back to throw a punch and he moves his hands and he is covered in blood. I punch him, he takes a bump and rolls out of the ring.

I went on about my business of finishing the match and I noticed something in the ring. I picked it up and stuck it in my trunks I wore under my pants. When we got back to the dressing room I discovered it was a one pound fruit cake. You know the kind you see at Christmas. The one about the size of a brick, and about as hard. It seems some over zealous young lady had threw this Christmas delight and hit J.C. in the mouth. He needless to say was ill and had several suggestions as to what to do with the fruit cake....  He lost the vote, we cut the cake, ate it and with a ho, ho, ho we were off to Carrollton to finish up the day.

Anyone else might have been mad about eating what he considered his fruit cake, but J.C. saw the humor right through his bloody, swollen fruit cake of a nose.....besides we were going home for Christmas.