One of the things I miss most about the old World Wrestling Federation, particularly during the late 1980s and early to mid 1990s, is something that didn’t involve wrestling matches at all. I’m talking about the various superstar-hosted talk shows that were regular features of WWF programming, where wrestlers would invite other wrestlers onto their own little sets to discuss whatever was going on in the company, usually with the possibility that somebody was going to get attacked, humiliated, or have something destroyed before the segment was over.
We had Piper’s Pit, The Barber Shop, The Funeral Parlor, The King’s Court, The Heartbreak Hotel, The Snake Pit, and several others over the years. Each had its own personality, its own set, and its own host, and while some were certainly more memorable than others, they all contributed something that I think is sorely missing from modern wrestling.
They helped make the WWF feel like its own little world, almost like a comic book where every character had a place they belonged outside of the ring. You didn’t just have wrestlers showing up to wrestle matches and cut promos. You had Brutus Beefcake running a barber shop, Paul Bearer operating a funeral parlor, and Roddy Piper hosting what might have been the most dangerous interview program in television history.
And sometimes, the things that happened on those sets were more memorable than anything that happened inside the ring.
Welcome to Piper’s Pit
You can’t really discuss WWF talk shows without starting with Piper’s Pit, hosted by “Rowdy” Roddy Piper, who was pretty much the perfect person to give a microphone and tell to go interview somebody.
Piper was loud, obnoxious, confrontational, and had an incredible ability to make you want to see somebody punch him in the mouth. His set wasn’t particularly elaborate compared to some of the ones that came later, but it didn’t need to be, because the entire attraction was watching Piper antagonize whoever was unfortunate enough to be his guest that week.
One of the most infamous examples came in 1984 when Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka appeared on the show, only for Piper to mock him, shove a banana in his face, and eventually smash a coconut over his head. It was an outrageous segment that helped establish Piper as one of the most hated villains in the company, while also demonstrating just how effective these interviews could be at creating a rivalry without either wrestler having to compete in a match.
And the segment didn’t just exist so Piper could be a blowhard or hit somebody over the head with a coconut. It was also a platform for building other people’s storylines, and perhaps the greatest example of just how effective these shows could be was the buildup to WrestleMania III.
It was on an episode of Piper’s Pit that Piper brought Hulk Hogan onto the show, only for Jesse Ventura to introduce Andre the Giant, who walked onto the set accompanied by Bobby Heenan, of all people. What followed was a heated confrontation that ended with Andre ripping Hogan’s shirt and crucifix off, leaving the Hulkster’s chest bleeding and setting the stage for one of the biggest main events in WrestleMania history. And just like that, a talk show segment had helped turn the friendship between two of wrestling’s biggest stars into the biggest attraction in the business.
That was the beauty of Piper’s Pit. You never knew exactly what was going to happen, but you knew there was a pretty good chance somebody was leaving angry.
The Barber Shop and The Funeral Parlor
Two of my personal favorites came along in the early 1990s, and they couldn’t have been more different from one another.
The Barber Shop, hosted by Brutus “The Barber” Beefcake, was exactly what the name suggested, a little barber shop complete with a barber’s chair, barber pole, mirrors, and a big glass window. It was colorful, ridiculous, and perfectly suited to Beefcake’s character, but it also became the setting for one of the most famous betrayals in wrestling history.
In January 1992, Shawn Michaels and Marty Jannetty appeared on The Barber Shop to discuss the problems that had been developing between them. For a moment, it appeared that The Rockers had settled their differences, only for Michaels to superkick Jannetty and throw him through the glass window, effectively ending one of the WWF’s most popular tag teams and launching Shawn’s singles career.
And where did all of that happen? Not in a wrestling match, not during some generic backstage interview, but in Brutus Beefcake’s barber shop. The set itself became part of the moment, and that shattered window is probably the first thing most wrestling fans remember whenever somebody mentions The Barber Shop.
Then you had The Funeral Parlor, hosted by Paul Bearer, which was about as far removed from Beefcake’s colorful little establishment as you could possibly get.
The set was filled with coffins, funeral decorations, and all sorts of creepy nonsense, with Bearer standing there in his black suit, clutching that urn and talking in his wonderfully ridiculous voice. It was the perfect environment for The Undertaker, and it gave the WWF an opportunity to expand the supernatural side of his character without constantly having him wrestle somebody.
One particularly memorable segment saw The Undertaker attack The Ultimate Warrior and lock him inside a casket, leaving WWF officials desperately trying to get the thing open. Again, it was the kind of angle that didn’t require a wrestling match to accomplish anything, and it gave fans another reason to tune in the following week.
The King’s Court and The Heartbreak Hotel
As the WWF moved further into the New Generation era, the talk shows continued, although the presentation began changing along with the roster.
Jerry “The King” Lawler hosted The King’s Court, complete with a throne and royal decorations, where he could sit around insulting his guests and generally being the obnoxious bastard that made him such a tremendous heel. Lawler was a natural in that role because he could generate heat simply by opening his mouth, and giving him a regular interview segment was another way to keep him involved in storylines without necessarily having him wrestle every week.
Shawn Michaels eventually had The Heartbreak Hotel, which featured a flashy, heart-shaped bed and the sort of decorations you’d expect from a guy who referred to himself as the Heartbreak Kid. It was gaudy, self-indulgent, and completely ridiculous, which made it a perfect extension of Shawn’s character at the time.
And that’s really what made these shows so much fun. The sets weren’t interchangeable, and you couldn’t simply swap the hosts around without changing the entire atmosphere. Each one reflected the personality of the wrestler running it, and the WWF used those personalities to create situations that wouldn’t have felt quite the same anywhere else.
A World Beyond the Wrestling Ring
I think this is something modern wrestling has largely forgotten, because there was a time when the WWF felt like an actual world populated by these larger-than-life characters who had lives and interests beyond simply wanting to win championships.
Obviously, nobody believed Brutus Beefcake was actually running a barber shop in the middle of an arena every weekend, but that wasn’t the point. It was part of the entertainment, and the WWF wasn’t afraid to embrace the ridiculousness of its own characters.
The talk shows also served a practical purpose. They gave wrestlers television time without having to book another match, allowed feuds to develop through conversations and confrontations, and created opportunities for major angles that fans would remember for years. You could introduce a new wrestler, turn somebody heel, build toward a pay-per-view, or simply let a charismatic performer entertain the audience for a few minutes.
And because the sets were different, the segments themselves felt different.
Today, we still have the occasional wrestling talk show, with Miz TV being the most obvious example, but I’m sorry, that doesn’t scratch the same itch for me. It’s usually just The Miz standing in the ring with a couple of chairs and some microphones, talking to somebody until the inevitable argument or brawl breaks out. There’s nothing particularly special about the environment, and most of the time it feels like another ordinary in-ring promo with a fancy name attached to it.
Where’s the imagination? Where’s the personality? Where’s the weird little corner of the wrestling universe that belongs to a particular character?
I know professional wrestling has changed considerably since the days of syndicated WWF programming, and I’m certainly not suggesting that every wrestler needs to be given a ridiculous occupation and a corresponding television set. God knows we had enough dentists, garbage men, and hog farmers running around during the New Generation era to last a lifetime.
But I do think something was lost when wrestling companies moved away from these elaborate, character-driven segments, because they gave the shows a variety that you don’t get when practically every interview takes place in the ring or in front of the same backstage backdrop.
Some of the greatest moments in WWF history happened on those little sets, and they weren’t memorable simply because somebody delivered a good promo. They were memorable because the setting, the characters, and the storyline all came together to create something that felt unique.
That’s what I miss about the old WWF. It wasn’t always great wrestling, and some of the gimmicks were downright stupid, but the company had an imagination that made even its most ridiculous ideas entertaining.
I miss the days when a wrestler could walk into a barber shop for an interview and end up flying through a window, or visit a funeral parlor and find himself locked inside a casket.
These days, somebody just gets invited onto Miz TV, and we’re supposed to pretend that’s the same thing. It isn’t, not even close.
