You know, we spend a lot of time in our culture
obsessing over the guys on the poster. Right,
main characters. Yeah, the ones who hold the
belt at the end of the movie, or the ones whose
names are right above the title. Naturally. I
mean, that's where the spotlight is aimed. The
entire production is designed to make you look
exactly there. Exactly. But I've been thinking
about this lately, and... If you shift your gaze
just a few inches to the left or the right of
that spotlight, you start to see the machinery.
The gears turning. Yeah. You see the people who
actually make the whole ecosystem function. And
sometimes you find someone who is just. Well,
they're everywhere. I'm talking about the connectors.
The connectors, the people who bridge gaps between
eras that really have no business touching each
other. And today, we are doing a deep dive into
a man who is the absolute definition of a connector.
A guy who really navigated almost every major
shift in the business. Right. A guy who tagged
with the biggest stars of the 1980s neon era,
battled the gritty legends of the 90s, and then,
in this weird twist of fate, provided the literal
DNA for the biggest horror character of the 2010s.
It really is a Forrest Gump situation. I mean,
he's in the background of almost every major
shift in wrestling history for 20 solid years.
But he's not just a background player. That's
the thing. He's a guy who is almost the guy over
and over again. We are diving deep today into
the career of dangerous Dan Spivey. And looking
at the research for this, it's really a tragedy,
a comedy, and a redemption story all wrapped
into one package. It really is. Our mission today
is to explore how this one man navigated the
territories, the giants of the 80s, the hard
hitting style of Japan and eventually created
a character decades ahead of its time. The Waylon
Mercy character. Yes, which we will definitely
get to. We're also going to look at the physical
and political toll the wrestling business took
on him in the 80s and 90s. We have a great stack
of sources here to work from today. We've got
primary biographical data, a comprehensive career
retrospective spanning from his start in the
mid 70s straight through in 1995, and some really
revealing details on his post wrestling life
and legacy. So let's set the scene for you. It's
the early 1970s. Dan Spivey is just a kid from
Tampa, Florida, born in 1952. And he is just
a monster of a human being. A complete genetic
outlier. Even by today's standards, being six
foot seven and nearly 300 pounds is huge. Right.
But in the 1970s, he was an absolute giant. And
he wasn't a clumsy giant either. He went to the
University of Georgia to go Bulldogs and play
defensive end. And we aren't talking about a
guy who just rode the bench, right? Not at all.
He was a legitimate standout on the gridiron.
In his sophomore year, he was actually named
an All -American. Wow. Yeah, that means he was
considered one of the absolute best players at
his position in the entire country. If you're
an All -American defensive end playing in the
SEC, you are essentially a lottery pick for the
NFL. Which is exactly what happened. The NFL
came calling for him. They did. The New York
Jets drafted him. The path was completely laid
out. He's drafted by a New York team, huge market,
big career ahead of him. He really should have
been a household name in professional football.
But this is where the story takes its very first
sharp left turn. And it's a turn that involves
a piece of sports history that, honestly, I think
a lot of people have just forgotten about. Right.
Because he didn't sign with the Jets? He just
said no to the NFL. He said no. And to understand
why... You have to look at the context of 1975.
The NFL had a direct competitor at that time.
The World Football League. The WFL. Exactly.
The WFL. This was kind of like the Wild West
of football, wasn't it? Very much so. Think of
it like the Livy Golf Tour is today, or maybe
the USFL in the 80s. It was a disruptor league.
They were actively trying to bleed the NFL dry
by offering these massive, unprecedented contracts
to college stars. Just throwing money at anyone
with a name. Exactly. They were throwing money
around that didn't necessarily exist, trying
to buy instant credibility. So Spivey sees the
dollar signs. He sees a startup offering him
the world. So he signs with the Jacksonville
Express on the WFL in June of 1975. He's betting
on himself, thinking he's getting in on the ground
floor of the next big thing in sports. And how
did that bet actually pay off? Catastrophically.
The WFL was a complete house of cards, spivey
signs in June. By late July, and we are talking
literally weeks later, he is released. The league
is crumbling under its own weight. The team is
cutting costs before they even play a single
game. Wait, so he didn't even make it to the
regular season? He didn't play a single down
of professional football. And by the time he
was released, the NFL season was already ramping
up, rosters were basically set, he was just left
out in the cold. That is a nightmare. I mean,
imagine the psychological whiplash there. You
are the big man on campus, an All -American,
you have agents courting you, and then in the
span of one single summer, you're just unemployed
in Tampa. It's a massive identity crisis at 23
years old. your entire life everyone has told
you that you're a football player and suddenly
the universe says no you're not. So what does
a six foot seven former defensive end do in that
situation? He just drifts. The sources indicate
he spent the next few years just working random
jobs around Tampa. Bouncer, construction, whatever
he could find to pay the bills. He's just a regular
guy who happens to be capable of bench pressing
a Buick. But Tampa in the late 70s and early
80s, that's a very specific kind of place for
a guy his size. It is. It's the heat, the humidity,
and it's the absolute hotbed of professional
wrestling. Championship wrestling from Florida.
Run by the legendary Eddie Graham. But the face
of the territory was someone else. The American
dream himself, Dusty Rhodes. So Spivey is floating
around Tampa looking for a purpose. And eventually
he crosses paths with Dusty. And Dusty Rhodes
had an eye for talent like almost nobody else
in the business. But more than that, he had an
eye for a specific look. He sees Spivey, this
massive tan blonde, legitimate athlete. and he
immediately sees dollar signs. He tells Spivey
he can teach him to wrestle. Now Spivey is 31
years old at this point. That's pretty late to
start in that business, isn't it? It is very
late. Most guys start in their early 20s. His
knees have already been through the meat grinder
of college football. His back has taken a beating,
but he's so physically impressive that Dusky
takes the gamble anyway. He trains him. And in
1983, Dan Spivey officially makes his debut.
But Dusty didn't just throw him out there alone.
He had a specific vision for him. Lusky loved
pairs. He loved tag teams. So he found another
tall, athletic guy who was also trying to break
into the business, a guy named Scott Hall. Scott
Hall, the bad guy. Razor Ramon himself. Exactly.
But this is way before the toothpick, way before
the hey yo catch phrase. This was baby face Scott
Hall. Dusty puts the two of them together and
calls them American Starship. I have looked up
photos of this tag team from the sources and
I really need you to describe it for the listener
because my words almost fail me. It is the absolute
quintessence of 1983. We are talking about furry
boots that go all the way up to the knees. Silver,
shiny tights, bright, colorful masks that they
would dramatically take off before the match.
They look like they just walked off the set of
a low budget sci -fi movie. And Spivey was Starship
Eagle while Hall was Starship Coyote. which sound
like names generated by a random word algorithm.
But the whole idea was to hide their glaring
weaknesses. They were both incredibly green.
We hear that term a lot in these sources, green.
What does it actually mean when you're in the
ring? It means they didn't know how to work.
They knew the basic moves, maybe, but they didn't
know the psychology of a match. They didn't know
how to lead, how to listen to the crowd, or most
importantly, how to protect themselves or their
opponents properly. They were purely cosmetic
at that stage. So they look like a million bucks,
but they wrestle like the rookies they are. Exactly.
And this led to one of the most humbling stories
we came across in the source material. In 1984,
Dusty moves up to Charlotte to become the booker
for Jim Crockett promotions, which is essentially
the big leagues of the South. And he brings American
starship with him. So they made it. They're in
the big time. Well, they're employed by the big
time. But Jim Crockett Jr. wasn't gonna put these
two completely green rookies on his television
show every week and pay them top dollar. But
he still needed to keep them on the payroll to
keep Dusty happy and to develop them. Now the
Crockett family also owned a minor league baseball
team, the Charlotte Orioles. I feel like I know
where this is going and I really don't want to
believe it. It's completely true. to earn their
keep while they learned the ropes. Dan Spivey
and Scott Hall were assigned to the grounds crew
of the baseball stadium. No way. Yes way. I want
you to imagine this visual. It's a random Tuesday
afternoon. It's 90 degrees and humid in North
Carolina. And you have two six foot seven giants
who are supposed to be these larger than life
wrestling superheroes called Starship Eagle and
Starship Coyote. And they are literally out there
raking the infield dirt and mowing the outfield
grass. That is, man, that is a massive slice
of humble pie. It was that old school wrestling
mentality. We're gonna break you down to see
if you really want this. If you can handle raking
the dirt for minimum wage, maybe you deserve
to wear the championship belt someday. Did they
get any big matches during this Charlotte run?
They had a few opportunities, but they usually
felt pretty flat. They had one notable match
for the national tag team championship against
Arne and Ole Anderson. They enforced theirs.
The absolute toughest guys in the room. And the
Andersons just ate them alive in that ring. It
wasn't that Spivey and Hall weren't trying. It's
just that you cannot fake experience. And against
seasoned veterans like Arne and Ole, if you don't
know exactly what you're doing, you're going
to look foolish. So the American starship basically
crashes. The sources say they try a brief stint
in the Kansas City territory. Spivey hates it
there. They come back to the Carolinas. It's
just not working out. It's 1985. Spivey is now
33 years old. He's failed at the NFL, failed
at the WFL, and now his wrestling career is stalling
in the infield dirt of a minor league baseball
stadium. But 1985 is a very special year in wrestling
history. It's the year Hulk Hogan and Vince McMahon
take the business national. The WWF is expanding
rapidly, and Vince McMahon loves one thing above
all else. Big bodies. Big, muscular, blonde bodies.
He sees Dan Spivey, and he doesn't see a failed
football player or a green rookie. He sees a
potential star. He signs him almost immediately
in the fall of 85. This should be the moment,
right? He's finally in New York, Madison Square
Garden, but he walks into a very specific, almost
doomed situation. He walks directly into the
role of replacement. Barry Windham, who was another
tall blonde wrestler, had just abruptly quit
the WWF. Barry was one half of a very popular
tag team called the US Express, with his partner
Mike Rotunda. The guys who came out to the Born
the USA song. Exactly. Yeah. Vince didn't want
to kill a lucrative gimmick just because one
guy left, so he just slotted Spivey right in.
He basically said, here, you're the new Barry
Windham. They called the new team the American
Express, or sometimes US Express, too. They just
recycled the patriotic gimmick. It's like when
a famous rock band replaces the lead singer and
just hopes the audience doesn't notice the difference.
But the audience always notices. And poor Spivey,
he was fine. He was athletic. He could move around
the ring. They had feuds with the Dream Team,
the Moon Dogs, the Heart Foundation. He even
got to be in the WrestleMania 2 Battle Royal.
The one with the NFL players, right, where he
was eliminated by the Iron Sheik. That's the
one. But he just didn't have the natural chemistry
with Rotunda. that Windham had. It felt manufactured
to the fans. And then Rotunda eventually leaves
too, and Spivey's left all on his own as golden
boy Danny Spivey. And this brings us to what
was probably the biggest hurdle of his entire
career, the visual. Picture Danny Spivey in 1986.
He's six foot seven, blonde hair with that 80s
feathering, yellow trunks, yellow boots, a really
deep tan. Who does he look like? He looks like
Hulk Hogan. He looks exactly like Hulk Hogan.
And in the WWF in 1986, that is a death sentence
for your career. Why though? Wouldn't looking
like the biggest, most bankable star in the world
be a good thing? Not in wrestling. Not if you're
positioned as a babyface, a good guy. Because
there is only one Hulk Hogan. If you look just
like him, you are automatically viewed by the
audience as the Diet Coke version. The great
value brand Hogan. Exactly. Fans do not want
to cheer for the copy when the original is on
the exact same card. It creates a glass ceiling
for him. A completely concrete ceiling. He couldn't
move at the car because he couldn't wrestle Hogan,
since they were both good guys. And he couldn't
outshine Hogan because he looked just like him,
but without the massive push. So he was completely
stuck. He participated in the King of the Ring
in 86, lost to Nikolai Volkov, was in it again
in 87, lost to Rick Martel. He was just a guy
to fill time. The sources show they tried to
turn him heal a bad guy in the spring of 1988
to fix this, but by then the damage was kind
of already done. He was just wrestling low -carders
like Lanny Poffo and Outback Jack. And we really
should pause and mention a serious note here
from the sources. This was the absolute peak
of the steroid era in wrestling. In 1991, Spivey
actually testified in the federal trial of Dr.
George Zaharian. Right, the doctor who was supplying
wrestlers. Yes. Spivey testified under oath that
during this late 80s run, Zaharian was illegally
supplying him with steroids to maintain that
massive look. And we're just reporting what's
in the historical record here. Not taking his
side, but it's crucial context. It really adds
a layer of darkness to his situation. He's destroying
his own body, taking illegal substances, just
to maintain a cosmetic look that is actually
holding him back from any real success. Precisely.
It was a complete trap. And in the spring of
1988, he finally realized it. He quit the WWF.
So here we are again, another major pivot point.
He needs to reinvent himself and he does it by
leaving the country completely. He takes the
advice of Bruiser Brody, who was a massive legend
in the independent and international scene, and
he decides to go to Japan. Specifically, he tours
with All Japan Pro Wrestling. I want to pause
right here for the listeners who might not know
the history. What is the fundamental difference
between American wrestling in the late 80s and
Japanese wrestling at that time? It's night and
day. In America, especially the WWF, it was a
cartoon. Bright lights, highly scripted storylines,
basic punch -kick pose action. In Japan, it was
presented much more as a legitimate combat sport.
In All Japan, they called it the King's Road
style. And the physical style in the ring. Brutal.
They hit very hard. In the business, they call
it working stiff. Right. If you chop someone
in the chest in Japan, you are really chopping
them, leaving welts. If you kick them, you are
making solid contact. The crowds are also different.
They are much quieter. They study the match almost
like a boxing purist would. They respect physical
toughness way above theatrical showmanship. And
Dan Spivey just fit right in. He thrived. Because
underneath the yellow trunks and the bad patriotic
gimmicks, Spivey was a legitimate tough guy.
He was a major college football player. He didn't
mind the physical contact. In fact, he seemed
to actually enjoy it. He got an incredible education
competing against legends like Gennikero Tenryu.
And he found a new tag team partner over there,
too. Stan Hanson. The Lariat. Stan Hansen was
this wild Texas cowboy who was basically a god
in Japan. He was legally blind without his thick
glasses, so when he wrestled, he just swung his
huge arms wildly and hit everyone as hard as
he physically could. He was genuinely terrifying.
Spivey and Hansen teamed up as this big gaging
team, the foreign monsters. And they were just
wrecking balls. Just two giant angry men beating
the absolute hell out of Japanese stars. They
won the World Tag Team Championship. They finished
highly in the World's Strongest Tag Determiner.
in 1990 and 91. Wow. Yeah, for the first time
in his entire career, Spivey wasn't a clone of
anyone. He was just a giant, scary foreigner.
He really found his true identity in the violence
of that style. That confidence must have been
huge for him when he decided to come back to
the States in 1989. He returns to the NWA and
WCW. And initially they stick him in the varsity
club faction. Which made logical sense. You know,
Mike Rotunda was in it, Steve Williams was there,
all legitimate athletes with college backgrounds.
Spivey used his real -life University of Georgia
football pedigree to lend credibility to the
group, but it was just a holding pattern. Because
then, and this is my absolute favorite version
of Dan Spivey, then we get the skyscrapers. Now
we're talking. He gets paired up with Sid Vicious.
Sid was another total genetic freak of nature.
Six foot nine, incredibly intense, a little bit
unhinged, honestly. They called them the skyscrapers.
And for once, the wrestling name wasn't just
hyperbole. It was literal. You had Spivey at
6 '7", Sid at 6 '9", and they weren't overweight.
They were incredibly lean and shredded. In an
era where tag teams were usually smaller, faster
guys, like the Rock and Roll Express or the Dynamic
Dudes, the skyscrapers looked like Godzilla,
and King Kong had just decided to form a tag
team. They dominated the Dynamic Dudes, by the
way. They even co -won a two -ring King of the
Hill battle royal at the Great American Bash,
right? Yeah, their manager Teddy Long convinced
them to just split the prize money rather than
fight each other at the end. Teddy Long did all
the talking for them. Which was the perfect dynamic.
Teddy would run his mouth... agitate the crowd,
and then these two literal office buildings in
trunks would step forward to back it up. They
had this incredible aura of complete invincibility.
There's a specific feud from the sources that
defines this era for them. The Road Warriors.
Hawk and Animal. The Legion of Doom. The Road
Warriors were the absolute alpha males of wrestling
at that time. They were famously known for not
selling for their opponents. Explain selling
for us just so we have the terminology straight.
Selling is reacting to the pain of a move. If
I punch you and you reel back and hold your jaw,
that's selling. The road warriors wouldn't do
that. They would just eat heavy punches and keep
coming forward. It made them look completely
unstoppable. Right. But it also made it really
hard for the bookers to find opponents for them
because nobody looked credible against them.
Until the skyscrapers walked in. Exactly. When
Spivey and Sid stood nose to nose in the center
of the ring with Hawk and Animal, the crowd just
went insane. Finally, here were two guys who
could look the Road Warriors in the eye and match
their power. It was a clash of titans. But it
was also physically very dangerous. Incredibly
dangerous. You have four massive guys, pumped
full of adrenaline, throwing heavy, heavy leather
at each other. At Clash of the Champions and
IX, the Skyscrapers wrestled the Steiner Brothers,
who were another team of legitimate, hard -hitting,
tough guys. And Sid gets hurt. Badly. Punctured
Long, broken rib, he's completely out of action.
So the team is dead right there. Not quite yet.
Teddy Long brings in a replacement partner for
Spivey. a new guy named Mean Mark Callis. And
for the listeners, if that name sounds a little
vague, just imagine him in a black trench coat
and a wide -broomed hat because Mean Mark Callis
is the man who would become the Undertaker about
10 months later. It is wild to go back and watch
the footage now. You are essentially watching
Dan Spivey mentor the future Undertaker. They
kept the skyscrapers gimmick going. And in Clash
of the Champions X, they did the unthinkable.
After a brutal match with the Road Warriors,
they beat them down. They left Hawk and Animal
lying completely prone in the ring. That was
a huge torch passing moment. They were signaling
to the audience that the skyscrapers were the
new kings of the hill. They were heading into
a massive Chicago street fight at the Wrestle
War 1990 pay -per -view. It was going to be the
biggest payday and biggest spotlight of Spivey's
career. And then he just vanished. He quit. Again.
Right before the pay -per -view. You walked out.
right before the biggest match. Why you are finally
at the absolute top of the mountain. It goes
back to that selling issue we talked about earlier.
Spivey felt that the Road Warriors were taking
liberties. Taking liberties? That's wrestling
code for cheating, right? Or being unprofessional.
It's code for being unsafe. Spivey felt they
were being far too rough with his partner, Mean
Mark. They were sandbagging him, which means
making themselves dead weight so Mark couldn't
lift them safely. And they were hitting entirely
too hard. Spivey, being the veteran, felt highly
disrespected. He felt they were intentionally
trying to hurt the new guy. So it was a matter
of principle for him. Principle, pride, and probably
some money disputes too, because let's face it,
it's always about money in this business. But
mostly, Spivey just looked at the situation and
said, I don't need this. And he could say that
because he still had Japan. That's the safety
net. He knew he was basically a god in Tokyo.
Exactly. He goes back to Japan, resumes his dominance
over there. But the American Siren song keeps
calling him back. He tries WCW again in 1991.
And this brings us to one of the most interesting
political moments in his entire career. The Tom
Zenk incident. Yes. So picture this scenario.
It's June of 1991. Spivey is back in WCW for
a brief run. He had challenged Lex Luger for
the U .S. title at Russell War 91 and lost, but
he's there. But at the exact same time, he is
actively holding the All Japan World Tag Team
Championship with Stan Hansen. Okay. And that
belt is incredibly prestigious. In Japan, carrying
that belt means you are literally the best in
the world. Right. So he shows it to a WCW television
taping on June 22nd, and the booker looks at
the sheet and says, okay, Dan, tonight we want
you to lose a match to Tom Zang. Tom Zang. Now,
no disrespect to the Z -Man, but... He's a solid
worker, good looking guy. Uh -huh. But he was
in mid -carder. He was nowhere near the level
of world champion. So Spivey sees this request
on the booking sheet. And he refuses. Flatter
refuses. He says, I am a world champion in Japan.
If I lose to a mid -level guy here on American
TV, it makes my title in Japan look like complete
garbage. It insults me, and it insults All Japan
Pro Wrestling. He was protecting the brand, both
his own and the Japanese companies. He was. And
when WCW management refused to change the finish
of the match, Spivey quit. Again, he literally
walked out the door and get this Stan Hansen
who wasn't even at the building that night Heard
about what happened and he quit WCW the very
next day in total solidarity Wow, that is loyalty.
That is the Brotherhood of the Road right there
Yeah, they both knew their true value was in
Japan not dealing with the politics in Atlanta
He does try one more WCW comeback in 1992 when
Bill Watts takes over the company. He goes on
an undefeated streak in the summer, teams with
Van Hammer in the Lethal Lottery at Starcade
92, gets eliminated by the Great Muta, actually.
But the spark is clearly fading. He's getting
older. The injuries are really mounting up. By
January 1993, after a loss to Dustin Rhodes,
he's out of WCW for good. Now, in most wrestling
biographies, this is the end of the line. The
guy is 41 years old. He's six foot seven. His
knees are completely shot. He's been raking baseball
fields, fighting road warriors and getting kicked
in the head in Tokyo for over a decade. It's
time to retire and open a car dealership. But
Dan Spivey had one more idea left in the tank.
And honestly, looking at the sources, this is
the part of the story that blows my mind the
most. He takes two full years off to heal, and
in June 1995, he calls the WWF. But he doesn't
want to be Golden Boy Dan Spivey anymore. He
wants to be Waylon Mercy. Where in the world
did this character come from? It came directly
from the movies, specifically the 1991 Martin
Scorsese remake of Cape Fear. Robert De Niro's
portrayal of Max Cady. Yes. If you've seen that
movie, you know exactly the character. Max Cady
is this highly intelligent, deeply disturbing
southern ex -con. He wears loud Hawaiian shirts.
He has strange tattoos. He quotes the Bible constantly.
But the absolute scariest thing about him isn't
that he yells or screams, is that he is so intensely
calm. He smiles at you while he intricately threatens
to ruin your entire life. Exactly. Spivey saw
that De Niro performance and realized, I can
do that. I can bring that to wrestling. He saw
a massive gap in the WWF market. Think about
1995 WWF. The villains were literally cartoons.
We had evil dentists, we had wrestling plumbers,
we had guys dressed as minotaurs. It was loud,
it was goofy, and it was squarely aimed at children.
And right in the middle of that circus, here
comes this massive guy in a white tank top and
a Hawaiian shirt. He dyed his blonde hair jet
black, he put temporary tattoos all over his
arms and chest, and he even drew a dagger tattoo
right in the middle of his forehead. Let's talk
about the promotional vignette leading up to
his debut, because they were totally different
from anything else on television at the time.
They were shot almost like an indie thriller.
Spivey would sit on a park bench or just stand
on a porch, speaking in this incredibly soft,
syrupy Southern drawl. He'd say these cryptic
things like, lives are gonna be in Wayland Mercy's
hands. It was genuinely creepy. It wasn't your
standard wrestling promo of, I'm gonna beat you
up for the belt. It was this weird, I'm gonna
save you vibe, but the way he delivered it made
your skin crawl. And the ring entrance, I watched
the footage of this and it's fascinating. He
would walk down the aisle to the ring and he
would purposefully shake everyone's hand. The
fans in the front row, the referee, the ring
announcer. He even shook hands with the opponent.
He'd offer a polite handshake to the guy he was
just about to fight. It was so disarming. He
acted like this peaceful, misunderstood Southern
gentleman. But the exact moment... The bell rang,
snap. The violence was just sudden and explosive.
He was vicious. He brought all that stiff Japanese
style right back with him. He would chop guys,
throw them around violently, but then for his
finisher, he'd put him in a sleeper, hold a choke,
and his facial expression would completely change.
His eyes would bug out. He had this wide -eyed,
completely insane stare. And the gaslighting
during the match? That's the craziest part. Oh,
this was the best part of the whole psychology.
He'd be actively choking a guy unconscious. And
he'd lean down and whisper loudly enough for
the cameras to pick it up. I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to hurt you. You made me do this. Then he'd
release the hold, try to gently help the guy
stand up, only to violently knock him back down
again. It was pure psychological warfare. It
was so complex. Honestly, it was arguably too
complex for the 1995 audience. The kids in the
crowd didn't know whether to boo him or cheer
him. They were just, they were deeply unsettled
by him, which is exactly what he wanted to achieve.
He ran through some notable names during this
run right. He beat a really young Jeff Hardy.
He fought established guys like Bob Holly, the
123 kid, Doink the Clown. He even faced the top
stars of the company. He wrestled Bret Hart.
He wrestled Razor Ramon, who, if you remember,
is his old tag team partner, Scott Hall. That
is wild. Can you imagine that locker room reunion?
Ten years after they were raking the minor league
infield in silver pants, now Hall is the bad
guy, and Spivey is this... terrifying cult leader
character. He even got a count out victory over
the WWF champion, Diesel, on television. They
were clearly pushing him. He had his only pay
-per -view appearance against Savio Vega at In
Your House 3. He was heading straight for the
main event scene. But the clock just ran out
on him. The injuries caught up. The body always
keeps the score. He debuted the Waylon Mercy
character on television in June 1995. By October
1995, He was completely forced to retire. Four
months. That's it. That's it. That is the entire
television lifespan of the Whaler Mercy character.
His back finally just gave out completely. all
the years of college football, the hard impacts
and the stiff wrestling in Japan caught up to
him all at once. He literally couldn't feel his
legs on some days. He had no choice but to stop.
That feels like such a massive tragedy to spend
20 years searching to finally find the perfect,
most nuanced character, the absolute masterpiece
of your career and then have your physical body
fail you just as you're starting to paint it.
It is a tragedy on a personal level. Yeah. But
it's not the end of the legacy. And this is the
twist in the research that I really love the
most. Right, let's fast forward about 15 years.
Dan Spivey is long retired. He's down visiting
the WWE Performance Center in Florida, where
they train the new wrestlers. And he meets a
young kid down there named Wyndham Rotunda. Who
just happens to be the son of Mike Rotunda. His
old tag team partner from the US Express The
Second. It is all incredibly connected. It really
is a small world. Spivey sees this kid, Wyndham.
He sees he has natural charisma, he has the size,
he has the pedigree, and Spivey decides to give
him a gift. He sits Wyndham down and completely
explains the psychology of the Wayland Mercy
character. He explains the loud shirts, the soft
southern drawl, the peaceful facade hiding the
extreme violence. And then Wyndham Rotunda takes
that seed. And he waters it. He evolves it for
a modern audience. He takes those exact concepts
and he turns it into Bray Wyatt. When Bray Wyatt
debuted on the main roster, anyone who was watching
in 1995 immediately said, that's Waylon Mercy.
The exact cadence of the speech, the tropical
shirts, the terrifying mood swings mid -match,
it was essentially Waylon Mercy 2 .0. But Spivey
wasn't mad about it being repurposed. He was
incredibly proud. He viewed it as his own creation
living on and finally getting the main event
run it always deserved. They even made the connection
completely official in 2019 when Bray Wyatt started
doing those weird creepy firefly funhouse segments
on TV. He introduced a buzzard puppet named Mercy
the Buzzard and who provided the voice for that
puppet. Dangerous Dan Spivey himself. That is
just beautiful. It's the original master voicing
the literal homage to himself. It closes the
entire narrative loop so perfectly. It really
validates his entire career. Even if he never
won the WWF world title himself, he created the
foundational blueprint that directly influenced
the next generation of main eventers. Now, we
do have a touch on his actual life after wrestling,
because looking at the interviews, it wasn't
all just voice acting and victory laps for him.
No, it wasn't. Retirement is notoriously brutal
for professional athletes. The roar of the crowd
and the adrenaline shuts off. But the physical
pain remains every single day. Spivey struggled
heavily. In 2007, the public record shows he
was arrested for a DUI. He was dealing with severe
addiction issues, which likely stem from trying
to manage the chronic pain of his in -ring injuries.
But he managed to turn that completely around,
too. He did. He got completely sober in April
of 2009. And in typical Dan Spivey fashion, he
didn't just do it halfway or quietly. He founded
a company called Spivey's Sober Companions. He
became an addiction counselor. Yes. He actively
helps others navigate the dark waters of addiction.
He works with people in Florida and Connecticut.
He essentially took the darkest, most difficult
part of his post -wrestling life and turned it
into a dedicated service for others. The sources
also mention he worked for his family's construction
business, and this is my favorite detail. He
became an ambassador for the Breakfast Station
restaurant chain down in Florida. Which is just
a delightful visual. Imagine walking into a local
diner for your morning coffee and being greeted
by a six -foot -eight Waylon Mercy asking how
you want your eggs cooked today. He also finally
got his proper flowers from the wrestling industry
itself. He received the Frank Gotch Award in
2022 from the George Tregus -Luthez Pro Wrestling
Hall of Fame. That is a very prestigious, legitimate
award for contributions to the wrestling industry.
It was a formal recognition from his peers that
basically said, hey, we see you. We see the heavy
physical toll you took and we see the creative
work you put in. So as we wrap up this deep dive,
I want to pose a final provocative thought to
you and to the listener at home. We spent a lot
of time talking about how Waylon Mercy was just
completely ahead of his time. He was doing this
psychological, gritty, complex character in 1995,
smack in the middle of the cartoon era. Right.
He was totally out of place, but in a brilliant
way. Exactly. But just two years later, in 1997,
the famous attitude era begins. The era of Stone
Cold Steve Austin, mankind, the rock. An era
entirely defined by characters that were deep.
flawed, dark, violent, and highly gritty. I see
exactly where you're going with this. If Dan
Spivey's back holds up for just two more years,
if Waylon Mercy debuts in 1997 instead of 1995,
what happens to his legacy? He becomes an absolute
undeniable legend. I truly believe that. Imagine
the Waylon Mercy character feuding with Mick
Foley's mankind in a boiler room. Imagine him
cutting those quiet, chilling promos against
The Undertaker in 1998. He would have fit the
aesthetic of that era like an absolute glove.
I think he undoubtedly would have been a world
champion. He's got to be one of the greatest
what -ifs of wrestling history. It really is.
He had the absolute perfect character. He was
in the right place, but he was just 24 months
too early for the audience to fully embrace it.
But even without the shiny belt at the end, what
an incredible life and career arc. From the collapsing
WFL to raking baseball dirt to the massive Tokyo
Dome all the way to the Firefly Funhouse. Dangerous
Dan Spivey really did experience it all. He is
the ultimate connector, the man who stood just
an inch outside the main spotlight, but helped
make sure it shined infinitely brighter for everyone
else. Thanks for joining us on this deep dive.
It's been a truly wild ride through the history
of the Squared Circle. Keep digging into the
history, there's always more to find. We'll see
you next time.