Imagine for a second that you are at the absolute
pinnacle of your career. You've worked for years.
You've sacrificed literally everything to get
to the top of your field. And you are finally
recognized as the undisputed champion of your
department. You have the title. You have the
gold. The dream scenario. Exactly. And then out
of nowhere, management calls a mandatory meeting
and announces that your entire department is
just eliminated. Gone. Wow. Just wiped out. wiped
off the organizational chart entirely. What do
you do? I mean, do you pack up your desk, accept
defeat, and quit? Or do you invent a completely
new job for yourself right there on the spot
and force them to keep paying you? It's the ultimate
professional nightmare. Most people faced with
that kind of sudden structural collapse would
simply walk away and, I don't know, try to find
a different industry altogether. that the person
we are looking at today didn't walk away. Today,
our mission on this deep dive is to explore the
ultimate story of adaptability, reinvention,
and survival in the incredibly chaotic, hyper
-masculine world of 1980s and 90s professional
wrestling. It's quite the story. It really is.
We are pulling from a stack of sources centered
mostly around the official Wikipedia archives
to trace the unbelievable career of Sheri Martel.
Millions of fans, of course, know her as sensational
Sherry. And we're going to look at exactly why
her ability to constantly pivot didn't just save
her career, but it actually fundamentally changed
the mechanics of how the wrestling industry operated.
Yeah. We'll break down how she trained, the psychological
tactics she used to manipulate crowds, and how
she became one of the most vital, really irreplaceable
figures in the history of the business. It is
a wild ride. But before we can even begin to
understand and how she survived the wrestling
industry when things got tough, we have to look
at the sheer, almost alarming level of determination
it took for her to break into it in the first
place. Right, because for Sheri, this was never
just a casual hobby. Not at all. Her introduction
to the business happened when she was just a
child growing up in Mississippi. Her mother gave
her and her sister a choice for their weekend
entertainment. They could either go ice skating,
or they could go see a local professional wrestling
show. And obviously, They chose wrestling. They
chose wrestling. And that single choice essentially
rewired her brain. Like, imagine you're a teenager
in the 1970s. By the time she was 16 years old
in 1974, she was already tracking down a massive,
intimidating wrestling promoter named Grizzly
Smith. Just walking right up to him. Right. Asking
him for advice on how to become a professional
wrestler. And he basically looked at this high
schooler. question if she really had the stomach
for such a brutal nomadic business, and told
her to come back when she was an adult. Which
she took as a directive rather than a rejection.
Yeah, exactly. But the paths she took to eventually
return to the ring required an immense personal
toll. Over the next few years, she worked as
an exotic dancer just to make ends meet. Just
grinding it out. Right. In 1976, she married
a man named Leroy Gonzalez, and they had a son
together. But the marriage ultimately ended in
divorce. And Sherry made the incredibly heavy,
complicated decision to leave her young family
behind to finally pursue her dream of becoming
a professional wrestler. OK, let's unpack this,
because that is a massive, life -altering sacrifice.
It really is. Leaving your child behind to chase
a career is a profoundly heavy thing to process.
And she wasn't leaving to take a safe, predictable
corporate job with a 401k. I look at this and
it's like she was running away to join the circus
if the circus actively tried to beat you up every
single night. And offered zero health insurance.
Right. It's wild. It was a circus with no safety
net controlled by territorial warlords. The physical
and emotional barrier to entry in the wrestling
business back then was astronomically high, especially
for women. So how did she actually get her foot
in the door? Well, she enrolled in a wrestling
school in Memphis run by a trainer named Mr.
Personality Butch Moore. She started working
under the name Sherry Martin, but more quickly
realized she had a raw intensity that needed
more advanced polish. She needed the big leagues.
Exactly. So he pointed her toward the absolute
epicenter of women's wrestling at the time, which
was the fabulous Mula. Right. And from looking
at our sources, Mula wasn't just a coach in a
gym somewhere. She was the longtime women's wrestling
champion and essentially the mob boss who booked
almost all the female wrestlers across the entire
country. What's fascinating here is the absolute
stranglehold Mula. had on the industry during
what we call the territory days. Can you explain
that a bit for the listeners? Sure. For you listening,
the territory days were an era before wrestling
was dominated by one or two global TV brands.
The country was carved up into regional fiefdoms.
One promoter controlled Texas. Another controlled
the Northeast. Another the South. Like organized
crime territories. Yeah, very much like that.
But Mula controlled the women. If a promoter
anywhere in the country wanted to feature a women's
match, they had to pay Mula, and Mula would send
her girls. If you wanted to make a living as
a female wrestler, you had to play by her rules.
Period. Period. Yeah. So Mula brought Sherri
in, changed her name to Sherri Martel, and even
sent her to wrestle in Japan in 1981. But the
relationship fractures. It does. Mula claims
that Sherry frequented night clubs and partied
too much, which resulted in Mula kicking her
out of the training camp entirely. Which is huge.
Right. Based on how much power Mula had over
the territories, that should have been an absolute
career death sentence. You get kicked out by
the gatekeeper of the entire women's division,
your career is supposed to be over. Done. Finished.
But Sherry just refuses to quit. She travels
back to Tennessee, throws herself into the gritty
Memphis circuit, and links up with a young manager
named Jim Cornette. She was willing to do whatever
it took to stay in the orbit of the ring. Yeah.
I mean, she even entered a mixed battle royal.
Wait, what is that? In wrestling, a battle royal
is a chaotic match where dozens of competitors
are in the ring at the same time, trying to throw
each other over the top rope. A mixed battle
royal meant she was in there taking hits from
massive male wrestlers. Oh my god. Yeah, she
actually suffered a severe injury in that match
that took her out of action temporarily. But
the moment her bones healed, she was right back
working as both a wrestler and a manager. That
fierce independence, that absolute refusal to
accept a closed door didn't just get her into
the business. It became the exact trait that
saved her when the business eventually tried
to phase her out entirely. Which brings us to
her major breakthrough. Yes. With the help of
a wrestler named Larry Zbysko, she gets into
the American Wrestling Association, the AWA,
in the mid -1980s. She completely dominates,
eventually winning the AWA World Women's Championship
three times. Her work in the AWA was impossible
to ignore. Because of her phenomenal in -ring
psychology, former wrestler Jessie Ventura refers
her directly to the World Wrestling Federation,
the WWF. Which was rapidly becoming the biggest
global juggernaut in the industry at that point.
Exactly. She makes her grand debut in July 1987,
and in her very first match, she defeats her
old trainer and gatekeeper, the Fabulous Mula.
Poetic justice. It really is. She wins the WWF
Women's Championship, renames herself Sensational
Sherry, and holds that title for 15 straight
months. She has reached the mountaintop. She
is the champion of the biggest wrestling promotion
in the world. She has conquered the industry.
She really has. But then we hit the crisis point
we talked about at the beginning of the deep
dive. In 1990, the WWF decides to completely
phase out its women's division. The championship
is deactivated. Her entire department is eliminated.
Right. She is a highly trained technical wrestler.
And suddenly she's told her skills simply aren't
needed because she's a woman. But wait, so when
they killed the women's division, she didn't
view that as a demotion at all, did she? It seems
like she essentially used it as an addition for
the men's main event. If we connect this to the
bigger picture, it is the most brilliant pivot
of her career. Yeah. The WWF women's division
at that time was largely marginalized, often
given only a few minutes of television time.
When the division closed, Sheri didn't pack her
bags and go home. She transitioned full -time
into managing top male stars. Like an entirely
new career path. Exactly. She started making
appearances in costume as Peggy Sue, the eccentric
girlfriend of the Intercontinental Champion,
the Honky Tonk Man. Her entire job was to irritate
his opponents and interfere in his matches. So
she just forced her way onto the screen. By moving
to the men's division, she actually secured significantly
more television time and inserted herself directly
into the main event storylines. Here's where
it gets really interesting, because we need to
define what she was actually doing at ringside.
In this era, a lot of women accompanying male
wrestlers were termed valets. Right. A valet
was often just a model hired to look pretty,
hold the wrestler's jacket and smile for the
cameras. Shuri was not a valet. Because she was
a fully trained championship level wrestler,
she brought something to the role of a manicure
that almost no one else had. She could take physical
bumps. She weaponized her own body to elevate
the story. For you listening, taking a bump is
the industry term for falling onto the mat. And
that mat is not soft. Not at all. It is essentially
tightly pulled canvas over wooden planks and
steel beams with only a thin layer of padding.
It hurts. Yeah. It requires precise physics and
timing to not break your neck. Most traditional
managers stood safely on the floor and shouted.
Sherri would physically insert herself into the
violence. She would get hit, thrown, and dropped,
turning standard wrestling matches into unforgettable,
chaotic spectacles. Let's look at her time managing
Randy Macho Man Savage. Savage was the archetype
of the intense, manic, explosive wrestling star.
Oh, absolutely. After WrestleMania V, where Savage
lost his world title, Sherry confronted his former
manager, the beloved Miss Elizabeth. This led
to a massive storyline where Sherry aligned with
Savage, rebranding herself as Queen Sherry. And
they just terrorized the heroes of the WWF for
the rest of 1989. It was incredible. And it was
deeply intense. At SummerSlam, Savage and his
partner lose a tag team match to Hulk Hogan.
After the match, Miss Elizabeth actually knocked
Sherry out with a loaded purse. Oh. And then
Hogan physically cuts Sherry's hair off in the
middle of the ring. That's crazy. Later, at WrestleMania
7th, Savage loses a dramatic retirement match.
And I rate Sherri attack Savage in the ring for
losing, kicking, and scratching him, which prompts
Miss Elizabeth to run out of the crowd, grab
Sherri by the hair, and physically throw her
out of the ring so Elizabeth and Savage can have
a tearful reunion. Okay, wait. I need to push
back on this a little bit. Sure. So her reward
for being an amazing manager, for helping Randy
Savage look like an absolute megastar, is getting
her hair cut off on national television, being
beaten up, and being literally thrown out of
rings. How is suffering that kind of public humiliation
a win for her career? It sounds completely counterintuitive
outside the context of the business. It really
does. But within the psychology of professional
wrestling, generating heat, which is a visceral,
genuine, angry reaction from the audience, is
the ultimate currency. By being willing to take
these humiliating or physically painful bumps,
she was essentially writing a blank check for
her clients. The audience wanted to see the villain
get their comeuppance. Because she was so annoyed.
Because Sheri was so exceptional good at being
detestable and so willing to be physically punished
for her bad behavior, the heroes looked infinitely
better when they finally got their hands on her.
Right. She was a heat magnet, which made her
incredibly valuable to the promoters booking
the shows. You can clearly see that value when
you look at her next major pairing. After Savage,
she briefly manages Ted Divius, and then she
aligns with the newly solo Shawn Michaels. A
totally different dynamic. Completely different.
Michaels wasn't a manic brawler. He was playing
the role of an arrogant, incredibly vain, pretty
boy. And she leans completely into this new brand.
She's so dedicated to his presentation that she
actually goes into a recording studio and sings
the lead vocals on his iconic theme song, Sexy
Boy. She was completely embedded in his character
psychology. Michaels had a routine where he would
carry a full length mirror to the ring to admire
himself before his matches. And this set up a
legendary storytelling moment in 1992. Michaels'
former tag team partner grabbed the mirror and
swung it to smash it over Michaels' head. Oh
man. But at the last second, Michaels grabbed
Sherry and pulled her directly in front of him.
She took the hit. The mirror shattered right
over her head. Which takes her off television
to sell the injury until the Royal Rumble in
1993 where she officially turns on Michael. To
be pay off. Yeah. This is what the industry calls
a face turn. The exact moment a despised villain
becomes a beloved hero or a baby face. The fans
absolutely erupted for her because she had finally
had enough of being used as a human shield. That
transition from a hated scheming villain to a
sympathetic betrayed hero proves her incredible
range as an actor. But her time in the WWF was
coming to an end. She was released in the summer
of 1993. The sources note two rumored reasons
for her departure. One was a personal decision
to step away and enroll in cosmetology school.
And the other was failed drug tests. which hinted
at the toll the industry was taking behind the
scenes. But her value in the industry was so
undeniable at that point that she couldn't stay
away. She essentially became a highly sought
after mercenary. That's a great way to put it.
Think back to that analogy we used earlier. She's
like a high level corporate consultant as a struggling
company brings her in. She changes her job title
to fit their specific corporate culture. She
fixes their narrative problems, elevates their
talent, and then moves on. A consultant who routinely
takes steel chairs to the back. Huh. Exactly.
When she hit the open market, she went to Eastern
Championship Wrestling ECW to manage a star named
Shane Douglas. Then, in 1994, she signs with
World Championship Wrestling, WCW, which was
the WWF's biggest rival. Right. Because the WWF
legally trademarked the name Sensational Sherry,
she simply pivots again. She reinvents herself
as sensuous Sherry. She sets her sights on the
WCW World Heavyweight Championship, bringing
her to Ric Flair. Flair was the archetype of
the wealthy, flamboyant cheating champion. She
mirrored that perfectly. So she adapts again.
Completely. She wore glamorous gowns, distracted
referees, and was even ringside handing flair
brass knuckles to cheat during major pay -per
-view events. She is just a master of chaos.
And then when that job is done, she rebrands
again. She drops sensuous Sherry and becomes
Sister Sherry. She takes on the management of
a tag team called Harlem Heat, Real Life Brothers,
Booker T, and Stevie Ray. And this is a completely
different vibe. Night and day, Harlem Heat were
a gritty street tough, hard -hitting team. Shuri
changes her posture, her wardrobe, her vocal
tone. She matches their intensity perfectly.
And under her guidance, they win the WCW World
Tag Team Championship seven different times.
Seven. It is exceedingly rare for a performer
to remain not just employed, but narratively
relevant across so many different eras and completely
different companies. Yeah, she never went stale.
She wasn't just recycling an old character. She
was custom fitting a persona to hide her clients
weaknesses and highlight their strengths. With
Shawn Michaels, she fed into his extreme vanity.
With Harlem Heat, she projected sheer intimidation.
She was whatever the storyline required her to
be without ever losing her core, unpredictable
intensity. But the constant reinvention, the
grueling travel schedules driving hundreds of
miles between towns every single night, the physical
toll of falling on those hard mats over and over,
it eventually leads to the stark reality of life
outside the spotlight. It does. After leaving
WCW, she makes a few independent appearances,
wins a couple more titles, and even wrestles
what would be her final match at an event called
Wrestle Reunion in 2005. She did receive her
flowers from the industry while she was still
with us, which is a comfort. Yeah, that's true.
In 2005, she returned to WWE television for a
brief cameo, where she actually sang Sexy Boy
with Kurt Angle. And in April 2006, she was rightfully
inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame. A huge honor.
Later that same year, she made her final television
appearance for TNA Wrestling, doing what she
did best, offering her managerial services to
a rising star, Bobby Roode. So what does this
all mean? By all accounts, in her final years,
she was trying to build a quiet life away from
the cameras and the noise. She was living in
Tennessee, renovating houses with her husband,
Robert Schroll. Just a normal life. Right. But
tragically, on June 15th, 2007, she died at her
mother's residence in McCalla, Alabama. She was
only 49 years old. That's incredibly young. It
is. The toxicology report later stated she died
of an accidental overdose with multiple drugs
in her system, including high amounts of oxycodone.
We look at this glittering Hall of Fame career,
the cheers of millions of people, and then contrast
it with such a quiet, sudden, tragic passing.
This raises an important question, and it points
to a much darker theme that runs through our
source material. If you look at the Wikipedia
page for Sherri Martel, under the See Also section,
there is a stark link to the list of premature
professional wrestling deaths. Her passing is
part of a broader devastating health crisis within
the wrestling industry during that era. These
performers endured extreme physical trauma with
no off season, leading many to self -medicate
just to make it to the next town. It's heartbreaking.
It is. But when we synthesize her legacy, we
have to look past just the tragedy. Sherri Martel
wasn't an accessory. She was a vital, irreplaceable
gear in the storytelling machine of three major
promotions. The AWA, the WWF, and WCW. She truly
was. It is just an incredible journey. From a
16 -year -old girl in Mississippi asking a giant
promoter for a shot, to surviving the literal
elimination of her entire department, to essentially
defining the art of the professional wrestling
manager for an entire generation. She wrote the
blueprint. She really did. And... You know, the
next time you face a massive roadblock in your
career, think of Sherry. When the path you're
on disappears, sometimes the only option is to
grab a microphone, cause a little chaos, and
build a completely new path yourself. Her survival
instincts were completely unmatched. But as we
look back at her career, considering her origins
as a highly skilled championship level athlete,
there is a lingering thought about the constraints
she was forced to work within. Yeah, and we want
to leave you, the listener, with this final provocative
thought to ponder. Right. Sherri Martel is rightfully
celebrated as a legend for successfully navigating
the hyper -masculine world of 80s and 90s wrestling
but elevating the era's biggest male stars. But
consider the physical bumps she took and the
psychology she mastered. The sheer talent she
had. Exactly. Did the industry's reliance on
her as a manager actually rob us of seeing what
she could have accomplished in the ring? If women's
wrestling had simply been given the respect and
television time it deserved back then, instead
of firing her department, what kind of legendary
matches could sensational Sheri have given us
as the main event star she truly was?