As we end January and eye the start of February, it seems fitting we take a moment to celebrate the life of Sputnik Monroe: a man who helped break the color barrier in Memphis during the Civil Rights movement by being the biggest asshole in town.
Glorious Asshole
Born Roscoe Monroe Merrick in 1928, the grappler trained under Jack Nazworthy and debuted in 1945. He changed his ring name to Rocky Monroe four years later, and quickly established himself as a “heel” by insisting announcers bill him “From Wichita, Kansas, weighing in at 235 pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal.”
It wouldn’t be until a 1957 incident in Alabama that Monroe figured out how he’d draw money: exploiting southern racial tensions.
Monroe was exhausted driving to a show, so he offered a black hitchhiker a ride to the forum as long as the man drove. The man gratefully obliged and drove Monroe straight to the curb. When the mostly white onlookers saw Monroe hug his driver in thanks, they grew hostile. Monroe then kissed the black man on the cheek.
Now the crowd was hot. One woman, overcome with rage, hurled the worst insult her brain could muster: “You goddamn Sputnik!”
That day would make Roscoe Monroe forever “Sputnik” Monroe, and provide the man the means by which he would make a boatload of money.
By the time Sputnik arrived in Memphis, he dressed in purple robes and leopard prints, flashed expensive jewelry and strutted Beale Street with a diamond tipped cane. He drank almost exclusively at black bars and clubs, where he’d hand out tickets to fans.
This drew the ire of promoter Roy Welch, who wasn’t a fan of letting anyone into a show for free. Sputnik reasoned with Welch that if two or three black fans got tickets to see him wrestle, others would come ready to pay. “Black folks’ money spends the same as white money,” he’d often remind Welch as Sputnik kept upping his antics.
Memphis police weren’t fond of Sputnik frequenting black bars, and would often arrest him on asinine offenses like “Mopery.” Every time, Sputnik made it a point to hire a black attorney to represent him in court. Almost every offense carried a fine, which Monroe promptly paid. He then sang his counsel’s praises in public and encouraged everyone use that lawyer if they ever got in trouble.
At the height of his infamy in Memphis, shows ran in the Ellis Auditorium. White fans were allowed floor seating. Blacks were relegated to the balcony, called the “Crow’s Nest,” with terrible views and limited seating. When Sputnik found out black fans lined up in droves to buy tickets for his matches but were regularly turned away, he took a bold risk.
Sputnik went to the press and declared he wouldn’t wrestle again in Memphis until his black fans could sit in the Ellis Auditorium with white fans.
Roy Welch and the Ellis Auditorium owners were furious, but they knew Sputnik had them over a barrel. Without Sputnik Monroe, black fans really didn’t care to show up and the white fans had no reason to pay since they wouldn’t see Monroe possibly get his ass kicked that night. At the end of the day the winning color for all was dollar green, and soon black fans sat with whites in record numbers.
The Ellis Auditorium was now selling out nightly. Roy Welch spoke fondly of his (and Monroe’s) ability to put “an ass in every available eighteen inches” the building contained.
The money was so attractive, other Southern sports venues eventually followed the Ellis Auditorium’s lead and started desegregating their seating arrangements.
At the height of his career, Sputnik Monroe worked a program with Billy Wicks in Memphis that drew so many fans it culminated in a match at Russwood Park in Memphis, where the two wrestled for a Cadillac in front of 18,000 fans.
Three years prior, Elvis Presley threw a concert at Russwood Park. He drew 14,000 people.
Sputnik and Billy Wicks were a bigger draw than the King in Memphis.
Sputnik wrestled his last match in 1998. He would eventually make Florida his home, where he passed in 2006, but frequently returned to Memphis. On those returns, some person of color would inevitably come to him and thank him for “helping us get into the building like everyone else.”
And it was on those occasions Sputnik Monroe, the biggest asshole Memphis ever saw, would actually shed a tear.
Happy Friday, everyone! If I could ask one small favor, it would mean a lot if you watched Derek DelGaudio’s “In & Of Itself” this weekend. It’s the best film I’ve seen in years. If you don’t have Hulu, sign up for the free week trial and watch it. Thanks for doing this for me if you are so inclined.
And maybe this scotch-o-clock, my mean-ass editor will toast Sputnik Monroe, a man who proved even assholes can accomplish good in this world.
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