Professional wrestling’s enduring grip on pop culture might baffle me, but I always enjoy reading smart stories about the people behind the spandex — and Jay Deitcher’s profile of Horowitz, a Jewish everyman who became a Jewish quasi-star, qualifies beautifully. Someone’s gotta lose in the ring; why not be the person who elevates it to a fine art?
If you watched pro wrestling during the late ’80s and ’90s, you knew Horowitz as the enhancement talent who loved patting himself on the back. He was clotheslined. He was body-slammed. He was pile-driven through the mat, often getting pinned in less than three minutes and making his opponents look like Greek gods. He also was professional wrestling’s most outwardly Jewish performer, never afraid to hide his heritage, parading to the ring to “Hava Nagilah” and rocking a Star of David on his trunks.
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