Alright, here's my Backlund story.
So growing up in the 90s as a wrestling fanatic, I remember fairly early when my fandom kicked into high gear getting a wrestling almanac that included a list of wrestlers and their birthdays. There was only one wrestler listed sharing my birthday, and that was Bob Backlund. Flipping through the pages to his bio, I saw that he was originally from Minnesota too, so he piqued my interest. Going to the video store that night I rented Survivor Series 1994 and got to see him in action for the first time, and he beat Bret Hart. I was sold.
This was 1996 and he started popping up on WWF television running for President. When my grade school had a mock-election, it just had options for Clinton and Dole. I wrote Backlund's name at the bottom, and when the tallies were made on the chalkboard, the votes were all for Clinton and Dole, except for one that just fell under "Other."
I got older, got into tape trading and really got to appreciate how amazing Backlund was in the 70s and 80s. Fast-forward to 2013 and I find out that Hall of Fame that my then-girlfriend surprised me with tickets to was going to feature the induction of Bob Backlund. I thought: wow, I was seeing one of my heroes Bob Backlund, who I felt a bond with because of our birthdays and home state, get to sell out Madison Square Garden one last time. Surely this would be the pinnacle of my Backlund fandom.
Then, last July happened.
It was a pretty exhausting May here in Minnesota. For those who don't know, I work in radio and the biggest hip-hop concert of the year here is the Soundset Festival on Memorial Day Weekend. This year it's become something of a hip-hop Wrestlemania with smaller indierap and underground hip-hop events happening all around the Twin Cities during the week leading up to it. I had a blast, but was so burned out from the preparations that I booked an impulse trip to New York that July.
This trip happened to coincide with the theatrical premiere of wrestling documentary 350 Days. I knew the producer Evan Ginzberg from him having me as a music guest on his locally-syndicated show, so when I reached out to him to say I would be in town, he invited me to the premiere. I get there, I meet Greg Valentine, Tito Santana, JJ Dillon, and many more legends who are in the house. Being Evan knew of my freestyling ability (that is, rapping off the top of my head - not freestyle wrestling) he asked me if I wanted to rap a bit as part of the pre-show. I told him I'd love to, but completely understand if things get down to the wire and you don't have time for it.
The theater opens up, and it's in the second biggest theater in Manhattan's AMC Union Square. Evan talks a bit beforehand, points out all the wrestling legends who are attending, then with five minutes to go before the start of the film he goes "Finally, we have a special treat tonight in from Minnesota. Rapper, writer and wrestling historian Chaz Kangas is here with a freestyle about the movie." I speedwalk down the steps, and Evan hands me the mic. I say the word "Hi" and am immediately met with a surly voice from the crowd unenthusiastically yell "just do it." I drop a very quick extemporaneous eight bars that I based off of everything in the poster and end it quick, to a shocked applause and I walk back up the stairs in the theater (Tito leaned into the aisle to say "Great job!" with his enthusiastic trademark 'arriba' arm gesture) and I get back to my seat. To my left is my buddy Rob. To my right is an empty seat next to, not the stairs, but the flat diagonal floor on the part of the platform outside the safety rail stopping anyone from walking on it.
Suddenly I notice a figure walking his way towards me *up that FLAT PART of the platform*.
It's Bob Backlund.
He steps over the safety rail and is now standing next to me, and so I stand up to shake his hand. The following words just kind of fell out of my mouth.
"Hi, I'm Bob Backlund."
"Great to meet you, I'm Chaz."
"They announced you as from Minnesota. I'm from Minnesota too!"
"Yeah, and we have the same birthday!"
Luckily, Mr. Backlund wasn't off-put by my sudden expression of knowledge. He proceeds to sit down next to Rob and I and begins telling us some tremendous stories. It's surreal, he's someone I looked up to for so long, who went out of his way on a night where he's reuniting with his contemporaries and celebrating a movie about his chosen craft, and he's spending it talking to *me*.
Mr. Backlund dropped so many gems. He already had walked to the theater from Penn Station - 34th street to 14th street: that's 20 New York blocks - and he was as impeccably dressed as you imagine. He shared stories about Bret, Vince, going to the White House the day after the 2016 election and getting a pretty massive security clearance solely off of showing the picture in his book of he and Trump being inducted in the same class of the WWE Hall of Fame (I can't do this story justice, you'll have to find Mr. Backlund to tell it) and was just so unbelievably kind to both of us.
The movie began, and I really enjoyed the film as it is. But here I was, having performed at a New York movie premiere watching footage of all these wrestling legends next to a hero of mine. Mr. Backlund was very respectful of the film, but during a moment where a certain very famous 80s wrestler mentions how much he regrets getting in the business and how everyone is miserable every day, Mr. Backlund leans in and whispers to me:
"I want you to know, this isn't my story. It may be theirs, but I had fun every single day of my career, every single day I stepped into the ring."
I whispered back "It showed."
He pauses, and says "Thank you for saying that."
After the movie, I thank him again and we part ways.
I'm beaming the whole night, and the next day I wake up and it hits me just how cool Bob Backlund was. He didn't have to acknowledge me in that theater at all. Instead, he walked up out of his way to compliment me and watched an entire movie with me. Just so above and beyond a positive fan interaction. I felt so lucky that as a kid I picked someone to be a fan of that wound up being that level of cool. The world is better off having Mr. Backlund in it.