The son of the legendary Cowboy Bill Watts, everything Erik had he owed to dear old dad. Whatever promotion the Cowboy was booking, Erik would mysteriously rise to the top of. It was almost as if the action was scripted that way. That would have been grating enough for his fellow wrestlers if Watts had had a modicum of talent: hed had deserved his spot, at least, even if hed been leapfrogged over the heads of his rivals. But Erik was no good, no good at all and had even less charisma than he did wrestling ability. It was Dusty Rhodes all over again, pushing his son to the main event over more deserving performers. During a tag team match as part of the Battlebowl tournament at WCWs biggest pay-per-view of the year, Starrcade in 1992, Erik Watts was wrestling Dr. Death Steve Williams, a man who had all the credibility that he lacked, as a performer, as a worker and as one of the boys. Watts had whipped his opponent towards the ropes then, perhaps to try to live up to his position on the card, he tried to hit a dropkick as Williams came back off toward him again. The sad thing is that, later on in the match, Watts hit the dropkick correctly. It still wasnt a thing of beauty, but it wasnt botched but it was too late for him. All anyone would remember was the fudged kick, a move that would live on in clips and GIFs well over two decades later.
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.
