Raven's Flock: Visit's Philadelphia, PA
April 1998
Welcome to the seedy side of downtown Philadelphia, the intersection of 21st and South Streets, where drug dealers are ever-present, scantily-clad harlots stroll each corner and liquor establishments make a killing. The suit-and-tie certainly doesn't fit in here. Even a collared shirt is unusual. Typical gang clothing and select
sportswear are the norm. It's crime-infested and poverty-stricken. This is a keep-your-eyes-open-at-all-times area. It was shortly after 1 a.m., and the
action was non-stop. Wall Street has nothing on this area now. We met Raven at a pub. That's all we can tell you. (EDITOR'S NOTE: Raven insisted we not
mention the name). It was dark, dirty, grungy. The place had black walls for the most part, neon lights and, where there was room on the walls, graffiti
galore. Two 300-plus pound gorilla-like bouncers met us at the door, which eerily creaked open as we entered. "Raven?" we said, with fear and trepidation.
What happened next was straight from a movie. The bar went silent, the bouncers moved to the side and, like Moses eons ago, the patrons parted way,
leading us directly to The Flock, seated at, near, or on a 12-foot wooden table filled with empty beer bottles and shot glasses.
Raven, naturally, sat front and center, sitting backwards on a wooden chair. To his right: Saturn. To his left: Hammer. Also close-by: Kidman, Sick Boy, Riggs, Lodi. These troops ruled the roost that night --and, we're quite sure, all the time. Raven, over the next 50 minutes, answered a fair
percentage of our questions; however, there was so much more we wanted to get from him, so much more we would have loved to learn, but discretion was the
better part of valor on some questions. Especially when head-slaps from Kidman were common after any "feeble-minded" question, as they called
them.
"Who am I? What motivates me? What makes me tick? Haven't you listened to the words I've spoken on
television? Have you garnered no information from that?" Raven said. "When you listen to a Nirvana song, do you completely understand what Kurt Cobain
is/was talking about? No, not always. But you get the generalgist. Same goes for me. I think, even the stupidest imbecile in the audience can get a
general grasp about what I speak on, the points I'm making. I may use terms that are far above the lexicon of your basic individual, but, nevertheless,
the point is understood by one and all."
You've got to disregard the ragged attire and shaggy hair when talking or listening to Raven. This man is an intellectual. He is deep. His words have
meaning, deep meaning. His schooling is unknown, and he won't talk about it, but, it's safe to say he mastered the English language. Some speculate
whether Raven has a masters degree, or even a Ph.D., in literature.
Raven is the Moe Berg of his time, of his sport -- an intellect hidden by his silence.
"I led an extremely rough life. I had an abusive childhood, abusive parents, and was unpopular, unliked and unwanted in school. I never got any attention and had no friends, no emotional contact, no emotional bond with any other human being," Raven said. "I was left to fend for myself, often for weeks at a time, and at a very early age, far too early to be able to cope with the surroundings. Many things beyond that are far too personal to reveal in a publication such as yours. Or, quite possibly, to any publication, or even to any individual. Ever.
"Some say I'm bizarre; some say I'm a genius. Why the contrast? A man can't be a loner and comlnletely intelligent? I have an IQ of 143, which puts me in one-half of one-percent of the entire world's population. I'm brighter than the vast majority of the entire world's population. Still, I choose to be alone, because I've been alone my whole life and have found solace in myself. I don't need others for attention, affection, or to give me validation."
Raven continued, "So many people say I'm bizarre. But don't you think you're a rather bizarre individual? You go around, you interview people. You
don't participate in the mainstream of life; you just record the activities of it. Some people are the news; some people record the news; some people watch the news. I think the people who aren't the news are on a much lower level; I don't think they have the where-with-all or the intestinal fortitude to participate in life to its fullest extent."
During the interview, Raven & Co., downed drink after drink. Exactly what they were drinking, we have no clue. Often, in fact, one Flock member would
say a color, such as red, and each member would promptly be given a shot-glass (which they immediately downed) with some liquid that was, naturally, colored the color they said minutes earlier. We were first given luke-warm water with an olive, then Raven glanced at the waitresses out of the corner of his eye and - VOILA - we had Carte Blanche to the bar.
(EDITOR'S NOTE: the day after this interview, we returned to the Philadelphia section where we met Raven and, incredibly, it seemed like the man of mystery had been cloned: There were Raven-like people everywhere.)
Raven is an eccentric, a prodigy, clearly an unwanted. At the same time, his words flow as if Shakespeare were re-born. He is an expressive individual on certain subjects. Namely, pain. He thrives on what others fear. Where you and I would wait for a train to pass, Raven might sprint across the tracks. If the train hit him, he'd enjoy the
pain (EDITOR'S NOTE: Throughout the interview, Raven smiled only once: when we mentioned Chris Benoit's
torturous Crippler Crossface, which Raven succumbed to at Snickers Souled Out.) Raven doesn't fear pain. He
feasts on pain Pain, it seems, makes him stronger.
For example, the minor pain of tattoos and/or body-piercing. Raven seems smitten with that form of misery.
"Why do I pierce myself? Why do I tattoo myself? It's an expression. Tatooing and piercing are an expression of one's own individuality. Each
tattoo I have has a distinctive meaning to me," Raven said. "For instance, the tribal-shaped barbed wire on my left forearm symbolizes a match I was in
where the ring ropes were taken down and replaced with barbed wire. I commemorated that match with this tattoo. The tattoos on my left shoulder and
right forearm are pieces of art that I have drawn. Others have personal meaning that I don't wish to discuss at this time. The piercings ... I just
enjoy the pain of the piercing."
In total, Raven has nine tats, most of which are further-developed from their original form.
"I speak in a certain vernacular, in my own particular idiom, because that is the way I choose to. I don't intentionally speak down, or condescend
to the lesser intelligent, I just speak in a manner in which I am quite accustomed to, and if someone can't follow that, then maybe they should pick up a dictionary or read a book," said Raven, who reads four to seven books and five magazines - cover to cover, he stressed - each and every week. His faves: Edgar Allen Poe, literature, gothic, horror, history, suspense, mystery and just about every other known genre. "Wasted thought, wasted words. Why spend 20 minutes getting to a point when five well-spoken words
will say the same thing?
"A lot of people say Poe is my idol. But I wouldn't. I'm not sure I have any idols. I'm not sure I cared enough for anyone that much. The idol most
people have as a child is, their father or their mother. And I have neither, and neither was to me. I think that truly prevented me from having an idol.
I've had mentors; I've had tutors; I've had professors; I've had psychologists. Idol is a strong term, and I wouldn't call Poe an idol. Poe is
someone I can identify with, although Poe died at a rather early age of alcoholism, so how bright could he have been?"
Raven, though, clearly is the idol of his Flock. Lodi would walk on burning coals to please Raven. Kidman would shave his head if Raven said so.
Riggs would eat glass if Raven said so. Hammer would wear a dress if Raven said so.
The Flock is a dedicated minion, serving Raven whenever, wherever, however. To the end. Through fire and rain.
"They all have come to me. Some I've forced, some I've shown the light," Raven said. "I'm a natural loner, but surrounded by people at the same
time."
RIGGS
Scotty Riggs was a tag team wrestler when he broke into WCW, yet didn't like one thing about the situation, from his partner (Marcus Alexander Bagwell) to the goody two-shoes ways of The American Males. The Males came from "Corporate WCW," certainly not Riggs. And probably not even Bagwell. Still, the two co-existed, annoyed to no end that they even had to wrestle in the same building, let alone the same matches - AS PARTNERS. The locker-room tension between Rigss and Bagwell was as prevalent as Spike Lee's love for the New York Knicks. Despite claiming the World Tag Team Championship belts,
Riggs and Bagwell couldn't - or maybe wouldn't - survive Bagwell went north, Riggs went south.
Both are now as happy as frat boys meeting The Nitro Girls.
"The American Males were a farce," Riggs said. "They were a product thrown together by looks unly - not by desire, not by want. It was ego and an
opportunity, one guy's so destroyed the opportunity that we had.
"This is the real Riggs, the person who plenty of people have turned their back on. A lot of people have not accepted me throughout my career, throughout my life. But Raven has. He's always welcomed me with open arms, no matter the circumstances or the situations. The only thing Raven cares about is, that The Flock remains a unit. The Flock isn't just making its mark on wrestling, but on individuals who p*$$ off The Flock. Everyone in The Flock is tired of being treated poorly by society. Yeah, we are the guys no one wants to hang out with, but that's why we get along so well, why we always hang out together."
There are no egos within The Flock. The Self-Admiration Society is non-existent within Raven's team. No one ever tries to one-up another member; Raven makes sure of that. The Flock just wants to have fun, register an impact and, probably first, create the most pain."
Riggs endured weeks of pain, and even suffered a serious eye injury at the hands of Raven, during his Flock initiation. Even with a patched-eye, Riggs can see he's exactly where he wants to be.
"With both eyes wide open, he couldn't see the light. With one eye closed, he could," Raven said. "I've known Riggs for many years, and I've know for years that he's a talented individual. I saw something in Riggs that I had to bring out, a dark side, a painful side. I saw a man with two sides: good and bad. His childhood led him to believe that good should step forth, that that's the way to go. But I set him free. I brought him to the dark side, to his dark side."
Said Riggs, "No matter what pain we've had, Raven accepts us because he knows what we're going through. There is unconditional acceptance within The Flock. Raven never pre-judges us, and never holds a grudge. For me personally, Raven basically beat sense into me because he knew what I was going through. He did, and still does -and that's okay with me."
Raven's ways are like the older brother beating up his kid brother: He hates to do it, and it often hurts him more than the one actually getting beaten up. Riggs is convinced Raven "never meant" to injury him so severely. What about animosity toward Raven? "Never," Riggs said, "because he's given me a
format to get back at others who have hurt me."
SATURN
Saturn, to date, has been the most successful Flock member, and also the most crippling. Oops, wrong term. (EDITOR'S NOTE: When we innocently asked Saturn about his "crippling" ways, every Flock member went stone silent and stared at us as if we had just questioned Raven's manlihood.) His "Rings Of Saturn" have led to championship gold, the only title holder within The Flock.
"I find Saturn to be the most talented grappling/high-flying/hybrid-fighting expert on the planet. He can wrestle any style, against any foe -- and still out-shine them," Raven said. "When Saturn
decides to retire from wrestling, he will go down as one of the most successful wrestlers of all-time. He's got such a wide array of skills, such
determination."
Saturn certainly is a wrestling innovator. Take, for instance, a simple backslide. Saturn often, when applying the move, drops to his rear-end for more leverage. Plus he constantly invents new suplexes and other debilitating holds, ones that are much more damaging than the normal wrestler. Case in point, Saturn thrives on throwing an opponent onto his neck instead of their back during a suplex. Why? It can
cause permanent damage.
Saturn also comes from a very abusive childhood, not to mention a previous promotion where Raven also wrestled.
"Raven and I have similar styles, similar childhoods. He understands how I feel. I understand how he feels," said Saturn, who, from ages 13-to-17 was in detention home after detention home along the East Coast. He joined the Army at 17, only because it got him out of the home a year early. Saturn constantly had problems with classmates and authority. He just never played well with others.
As for Saturn's statistics, he has 12 tattoos, including his name on his shoulder blades. Plus, his tongue, eyelid and ears are pierced.
KIDMAN
Unquestionably, the most drastically-changed wrestler in recent memory is Billy Kidman, the cute-as-button youngster from Pennsylvania who now, at best, is a zombie, brainwashed to no end. Kidman is a belligerent smart-@#$ who mocks others iust for fun. Talk about the teenager rebilling against his parents. Kidman is rebelling against the world.
(EDITOR'S NOTE: If Kidman grabbed our tape recorder once and sarcastically said, "Hey look, I'm talking right into your recorder," he must have done it 1,000 times. Annoying would be the nice term.)
"Kidman is a punk. If anyone were to see Billy Kidman outside of the arena, you would see him exactly as you see him now. Kidman was playing a part; he was a puppet on a string, dancing to the tune of corporate society. He wanted money; he wanted respect. But got none of either," Raven said.
Kidman echoed his master, Raven: "I was just a puppet for some corporate play-thing. They wanted me to
dress-up and be Mr. All-American, but this is who I am. They wanted me to wear spandex. Spandex! Who the
hell wears spandex? Spandex is for losers. This is what I wear at home. WCW never gave me enough TV time,
nor signed me to killer matches, even though [it] knew full well that I could kick (Rey) Mysterio and (Dean)
Malenko's @#$.
"I never even got a shot to shine in WCW. But Raven is gonna make me a huge, worldwide star."
HAMMER
At 6-foot-6, 275-pounds, Hammer is the most imposing Flock member - and, arguably, the most confused. Perhaps the pierced nipple pinched a brain-cell or two.
"Hammer has led a very troubled adulthood, with numerous addictions and substance-abuse problems. He has been in and out of rehab centers on numerous occasions, as have I," Raven said. "But Hammer realizes that he has found someone who won't judge him in a harsh light because of his additions, that I will judge him as a human being.... I enjoy Hammer because I enjoy Hammer's presence."
In turn, Hammer offers undying gratitude, loyalty to Raven.
"We're a bunch of second-, third-, maybe even fourth-chance people who have been screwed up many times, but, that doesn't necessarily mean we deserve to be where we're at right now. Raven recognizes our plight and brings us together. He sees a lot of himself in us," said Hammer, his glazed eyes appearing as though they could cut through steel. "All of us (in the Flock) have been here and there in the wrestling business - and in life in general - but never have had an opportune situation. Raven wants people around him
who have the same direction, the same philosophy, the same problems. Misery loves company.
"That's why I'm in The Flock."
Hammer (circa 1998) is the real deal, not some guitar-beating wildman. What you see is really what you get. Hammer is now simply a true imitation of himself, a by-product of a dysfunctional family.
"Some of us (in The Flock) were told by the (wrestling) business that we'd never succeed, maybe because of our size, our weight, or maybe our attitude. Look at us now. We're over," Hammer snapped. "We understand one another. We accept where one another is coming from and have empathy for each
other because we've been there. Raven and I are very similar. There's nothing that should keep you out
of this business, if you want in bad enough. Raven knows that - and he's letting all of us know that. You can have behavior problems, be a complete misfit, or iust have a bunch of screwed-up brain-cells ... but that shouldn't keep you out of wrestling. Raven
knows that, and has shown all of us the light."
Hammer was away from wrestling for 2 1/2 years before his return in late-1997.
So, Hammer, has Raven brain-washed you?
"Ask him," Hammer said.
SICK BOY
Sick Boy, according to Raven, was found three years ago, homeless and wandering the streets of Philadelphia. "I took him under my wing as a protégé because I saw a lot of me in him. I gave him shelter and something to belive in," Raven said.
Sick Boy would not answer any of our questions.
All we know is that he's 6-foot-2, about 250-pounds.
LODI
Lodi is, very simply, the Stevie Richards of 1998: A fruitcake who just wants to be part of the pack - and is willing to do anything, anywhere to be accepted. Hence, the signs, etc.
"If he wants to go out there and make a fool of himself in order to appease me, to get to my good graces, so be it. I'm not one to discourage anyone from showing their own individuality. I never would encourage conformity. If that's the way he wants to be, so be it, as long as he doesn't offend me,"
Raven said.
Added Riggs, "Lodi is the Eddie Haskell of our group. No one really likes him, but he hangs out with our group; he makes us laugh. We can beat him up when we want to - and he enjoys it. We tolerate him. He's there to promote us. He strokes whatever egos we do have. He knows, if he screws up, we're gonna beat him up."
The 5-foot-l0, 220-pound freak claims Raven loves him. This, though, we find hard to believe, especially because, during our meeting with The Flock, Raven must have punched Lodi 10 or 15 times, just because.
"Raven's the best; all the chicks flock to Raven. Man, I wish I could be like Raven. He's a rock star. More than that, he's a God. I've never seen anyone take more pain than Raven does, nor give it out. Raven's cool. He's my hero. Raven rules," the energetic Lodi said.
Does Raven hate you, Lodi?
"NO WAY! Not a chance. He hated that Stevie Richards. He loves me; I'm his boy. That's why he lets me hang out with him and The Flock. And, ya know, I get right in the front row for Nitro, Thunder and all the cool Pay-Per-Views."
As the interview ended, there were, fittingly, more questions than answers. We spent about an hour with The Flock and still feel miles apart from understanding this complex crew of outcasts. Is The Flock nothing more than a cult-like following? "I think people see in me something that they want to
be, something they wish they could be, something they wish they had the strength and the malice of forethought to accomplish, along with the deeds and
the ends with which they need to live their live in their own particular way," Raven said.
Does Raven like his disciples?
"I do not dislike them," he responded.
How fitting an answer.
Home
