“Solie Chronicles’ a real ‘Pier Sixer’

Posted Sep 12, 2009 by Bob D'Angelo

Updated Sep 12, 2009 at 10:45 PM

Professional wrestling in Florida has a rich history. Forget the “real vs. fake” argument — during its heyday in 1970s, fans packed arenas around the state to watch stars like Jack Brisco, Dusty Rhodes, Eddie Graham, the Great Malenko and Buddy Colt.

And to a generation of pro wrestling fans, the weekly “Championship Wrestling From Florida” program was must-see TV.

Not because of the wrestlers. Because of the voice.

That voice belonged to Gordon Solie — “the Walter Cronkite of pro wrestling commentators.”

Always unpretentious, Solie had a deadpan delivery and anatomically correct commentary that gave him instant credibility. The voice was clear yet raspy, thanks to years of chain smoking and too many vodka and cranberry drinks.

But away from the microphone was a complicated man who experienced more jolts than a bumper car ride at an amusement park.

That life is vividly recounted in a thorough biography, “The Solie Chronicles: The Life and Times of Gordon Solie” by Robert Allyn with Pamela Allyn and Scott Teal (Crowbar Press. $19.95).

Pamela Allyn is Gordon’s daughter, but her husband does not sugarcoat Solie’s life. Solie, born Jonard Frank Labiak in 1929, suffered through a painful childhood, was abandoned by his natural father and was subjected to verbal and physical cruelty by his stepfather, who adopted him.

After legally changing his name to Gordon Solie as an adult, the Minnesota native moved to Tampa in 1950 and took a radio job at WEBK in Ybor City.

So began a career that put Solie on the cutting edge of stock car racing in Tampa at Golden Gate Speedway. That led to his meeting with Tampa promoter Clarence “Cowboy” Luttrall, and Solie found his niche as pro wrestling’s top commentator.

Always, the show was about the wrestlers, not about him. Even his critics had to admit Solie was far removed from the carnival barkers that had passed for announcer in the past.

What gives this book depth is the interviews with more than 60 of Solie’s contemporaries in stock car racing and wrestling. Not all of them are flattering. A session with former wrestler and booker Bob Roop is particularly scathing. The authors also extracted information and photographs from Solie’s personal files.

There are plenty of Tampa Tribune references in this book, with many of former sports editor Tom McEwen’s “Morning After” columns quoted. And to be balanced here, the St. Petersburg Times is also sourced extensively, particularly where former promoter Eddie Graham is concerned.

Away from the microphone, Solie’s life never seemed to be settled. His first marriage was rocky and ended in a bitter divorce, and contact with his children was generally sporadic. Several business ventures were started and failed, and Solie’s struggles with drinking always entered into play.

It’s not always pretty, but to their credit, the Allyns and wrestling historian Teal do not sidestep those facts.

Through it all, Solie was an announcing phenomenon. Matches that spun out of control were “Pier Six brawls.” Bloodied wrestlers wore “a crimson mask.” And my personal favorite: A wrestler was tough because “he could go three rounds with a buzz saw and give it the first two rounds.”

Many of Solie’s interviews stand out; here are the high and low marks, in my opinion.

The best TV segment, in my view (especially since I had the commentary on an old cassette tape), was a Feb. 5, 1972, broadcast that featured a confrontation between Jack Brisco and NWA world heavyweight champion Dory Funk Jr.

The exchange late in the show led to a brawl in the ring. Solie’s pulsating play-by-play call built to an excruciating climax.

Brisco had Funk in the figure four leglock and the champion looked like he was about to concede, when Solie shouted, “our time is almost completely gone, in fact it has gone, we’ll be back next week.”

End of show. And the perfect hype for the Brisco-Funk matches that week around the state of Florida.

The edgiest interview?

After Eddie Graham committed suicide in January 1985, Solie did a television spot with Mike Graham two months later that was interrupted by the Fabulous Freebirds.

The kicker came when Buddy Roberts cornered Graham at the announcer’s table and barked: “It’s like father, like son. You’re both losers.”

The inevitable Pier Sixer occurred and Solie played his role perfectly. Still, it made the viewer cringe — even if Mike Graham allegedly cooked up the angle himself.

Because Solie was based in the Tampa Bay area for nearly a half-century, there are plenty of references to people, places and events that longtime area residents will recognize.

Solie also became well known in other parts of the South as the announcer of “Georgia Championship Wrestling.” His death in 2000 was mourned by many in and out of the business.

“The Solie Chronicles” is more than history. It is a peek into the life and times of one of the top announcers in broadcasting history. Critics might sneer that Solie made his mark in pro wrestling, but there is no denying that his even-handed, straight-faced delivery fit was a perfect companion to the mayhem he was describing.