Wrestling came into my life some Saturday morning back in the early 1980s, just before the rise of Hulkamania. In those days, heroes and villains were diametrically opposed; there were no gray areas. You cheered for the wrestlers who stood for everything that was good and clean and honest; you booed anybody who broke the rules.
Tito always stood for what was right.
Reading this book, it seems pretty obvious why he never had a heel turn. He was just too nice of a guy. It would have been a real stretch to have him become a rulebreaker. I'm sure other true good guys in the profession have done it, but Tito just seemed to be too genuine.
The book is loaded with insider stories of life on the road, which, he proves, is basically what wrestlers in his era did: travel professionally. When it all boiled down, a wrestler's day consisted of about 15 minutes per day in the ring, the rest being spent on moving from town to town on an almost daily basis. He gives his perspective on well-known behind-the-scenes events, like the Raymond Rougeau-Dynamite Kid altercation, and reveals some stories only he so far has told. He talks of becoming a cartoon character, on Hulk Hogan's Rock 'n' Wrestling Saturday morning show, and in real life, switching his gimmick from "Tito Santana" to "The Matador."
I watched Tito's WWF career religiously for a few years, from the time I was 11 to about the time I was 15. I went to three or four WWF cards during those days at the Boston Garden, and lo and behold, one night I was witness to the undoing of a champion, when Randy "Macho Man" Savage pinned Tito for the Intercontinental title. The fans at the Garden went crazy, cheering the moment, though I was confused - Macho Man was a bad guy! To this day I believe it was the euphoria of seeing history in action. In the pre-internet days, to see a wrestling title change hands in person was a real rarity. Yet there it was, right before our eyes. I still left mad that one of my heroes had lost.
In life, Merced Solis, the man behind "Richard Blood," Tito Santana and The Matador, won. He rose from nothingness and became a superstar and an excellent family man. It's funny to think now, decades later, that this was a hero who truly was one. Despite the grittiness of the industry in which he toiled, the backstabbing and position grabbing, he held true to his morals (unless this book is a work!) and lived life the best way he knew how.
Thank you, Tito!