1-2-3 Kid: Dream Dared/Dream Realized
Recollections from a Pro Wrestling Reporter's Notebook, Part III

In the early ‘90s, in the days before internet, email and texting, I was in regular contact by phone with assorted pro wrestling promoters across the United States that ran what were then referred to as local wrestling promotions.
I would call these promoters to talk about what happened on their latest shows. They would also update me on any new talent that they had been working with that I should consider writing about in one of the pro wrestling magazines I worked for. The conversations would also often veer into our thoughts on the latest happenings on WWF and WCW TV, the two major promotions of the day.
By the early ‘90s, though, the territory system of promotions had largely gone away, and the term independent wrestling would not be used much until later in the decade. The state of how the pro wrestling business operated was in flux. These local promotions, most without a TV show on a local channel, ran shows in very specific areas in one state, usually the same few towns and venues a month and opposed to a seven day a week schedule of the territory promotions from a few years prior.
The newsstand pro wrestling magazine editors I wrote for gave me great leeway in what I choose to write about and for the most part let me come up with my own stories versus assigning me topics to write about. A few said that they didn’t even follow wrestling that closely anymore. One of them was busy publishing football, baseball, and boxing magazines and depended on me to keep him updated on the current wrestling scene’s top names and major feuds via monthly calls. It was during these calls that we planned the content of each magazine issue, and he often shared stories from being around pro wrestling in the ‘60s and ‘70s and interacting with Vince McMahon, Sr. and other prominent promoters of that era.
I enjoyed interviewing wrestlers, and my promoter friends would often give me the phone numbers of former WWF and WCW stars and also local talent with promise, so I could do interviews and write stories about them. I always made a point to weave into anything I wrote something publicizing the person’s promotion who had helped put me in touch with the featured wrestler.
It was during one of my weekly conversations with a promoter in Minnesota named Eddie Sharkey that I first heard about an 18-year-old wrestler named Sean Waltman who was wrestling under the name The Lightening Kid.
Sharkey, a retired wrestler, ran a promotion called Pro Wrestling America and was also a renowned trainer. He was well known at the time for training many of the day’s top stars including The Road Warriors and Rick Rude. He had a keen eye for wrestling talent, and his promotion was a sought-after place to be to get potentially noticed by either WWF or WCW.
Waltman was a recent arrival from Florida to Minneapolis. Sharkey went into great detail on the phone to me recounting the new wrestler’s matches and the innovative nature of his aerial style, and he recommended I interview him and write an article about The Lightening Kid.
I did just that, and it was the very first feature length article on The Lightening Kid published in a U.S. pro wrestling magazine. I used to send the wrestlers, and any promoters who I mentioned their promotion, copies of the magazine after an article was published about them, and I remember how delighted The Lightening Kid was about the piece, telling me gave his copy to his grandfather.
Good things were to come for The Lightening Kid in the world of pro wrestling over the next few years after we first spoke
Fast Forward to 1995.
Sean Waltman was now in WWF.
Rebranded as the 1-2-3 Kid, he was one of the prominent stars there and, although not fully realized at the time, paving the way for a major change in pro wrestling.
The popularity of his high-flying wrestling style on pro wrestling’s largest platform three decades ago helped changed the perception of what a professional wrestler was supposed to look like size wise. This shift allowed smaller sized wrestlers a chance to thrive in the years to come after Waltman’s WWF debut, and still to this day.
Many pro wrestling stars since the beginning of the 21st century can credit 1-2-3 Kid’s groundbreaking success in the ‘90s for allowing them a chance to show what they could do and find success of their own in the ring with major promotions in the United States.
One of the final articles I wrote for a newsstand pro wrestling magazine was on 1-2-3 Kid. This was in 1995, when there were very few other wrestling magazines around by that point besides WWF’s in-house magazine and the Pro Wrestling Illustrated family of publications.
This was stark change from just a few years earlier when there had been dozens of active pro wrestling magazines. However, print journalism, magazines specifically, even back in the early ‘90s was showing the first signs of fading away as it would largely when the digital media medium took over in the United States in the years that followed.
Similar to Part I of Recollections of Pro Wrestling Reporter, The Rasta Voodoo Mon Story, I am including here for Part III the original manuscript for the article I wrote about the featured wrestler and with updated commentary to add some perspective all these years later.
Back in the ‘90s, when writing for pro wrestling magazines, it was covered in a narrative tone as if what was occurring in the ring was reality.
There was no discussion in print of how “storylines” were executed, analyzing the logic and execution, or any other kind of behind-the-scenes information about the mechanics of the match. Suspension of belief was the approach always to the narrative tone. The “curtain”, proverbially speaking, was kept shut for the readers/fans.
For this article about the 1-2-3 Kid, I used quotes from various interview/conversations I had with Waltman, as well as Eddie Sharkey, to tell the 1-2-3 Kid’s story from early beginnings to his then present association with WWF.
This is one of my favorite articles that I ever wrote for a wrestling magazine, even if it is a bit cliché heavy for modern reading.
- Russell Franklin

1-2-3 Kid: Dream Dared, Dream Realized
In 1988, when a 15-year-old Florida youth told the people around him he was going to become a professional wrestler, they just shook their heads. One look at the youngster told the apparent story.
He was just over six feet tall with a longer slender build. Maybe he could be a basketball player or a baseball player, but a professional wrestler? Never. After all, professional wrestlers were those hulking larger-than-life, muscle monsters who were televised into millions of homes each week.
Every person who told the youngster his dream couldn’t be achieved only fueled his ambition. Every discouraging comment from those who insisted they meant well further motivated the teen to follow his dream of becoming one of the top attractions in the world of professional wrestling. Six years since the beginning of his odyssey in Florida, this young man traveled many long and hard paths, and, true to his dream, he never gave up.
Each night finds him in the ring at a World Wrestling Federation card, ready for any challenge thrown at him, no matter how much of an underdog he looks like on paper. And you know what? This Kid is doing quite well for himself. Wrestling fans worldwide know him as 1-2-3 Kid, and with each passing week he further establishes himself in the major leagues of professional wrestling, winning more and more respect from his peers and fans for his tenacity, heart and skill he displays in the squared circle.
1-2-3 Kid readily admits to becoming obsessed with wrestling after watching his first match.
“All it took was seeing one match and I was hooked,” revealed The Kid when he was 19 and just becoming a star in the GWF. “After that first match, I knew it was my destiny to become a professional wrestler.”
Russell’s 2025 commentary: Global Wrestling Federation cannot be understated in its role as a significant promotion at the time for a wrestler to be in who was aspiring to be signed by WWF or WCW. At its peak, GWF aired five days a week on ESPN and besides Waltman, would also serve as the platform for the national debut of future WCW stars Booker T and Stevie Ray (as The Ebony Experience in GWF) and Buff Bagwell (as The Handsome Stranger in GWF). The run for GWF as a promotion was relatively short compared to other national promotions and only lasted from 1991 to 1994. In many ways its legacy is the careers it launched.
The Kid was intrigued by pro wrestling and anxious to get involved. He didn’t want to wait until his 20s to get started. He wanted to start his pro wrestling career while still in high school.
“I started hanging around the matches when I was seven,” recalled The Kid. “I was there every week without fail. It got to be so they got familiar seeing my face. When I got a little older, the promoters let me set up the rings. After being that close to the action, there was definitely no holding me back.”
In early 1988, 1-2-3 Kid approached the late Boris Malenko for help getting started as a pro wrestler. Malenko was one of the veterans of the Florida wrestling scene and had seen a lot of wrestlers come and go. He must have recognized something special in The Kid, something that separated him from others who just said they wanted to become professional wrestlers. Later that same year after undergoing a rigorous training program in Malenko’s wrestling school, The Kid made his debut against one of Boris’ son, Dean, at a Suncoast Wrestling Federation show.
Russell’s 2025 commentary: Dean Malenko was relatively unknown at the time when Waltman told me about his debut match, and I was only vaguely aware of who he was from seeing his name a few times in wrestling newsletter match results from shows in Florida. Malenko would go on to become a top name in pro wrestling in the immediate years that followed, appearing in ECW, then WCW and finally WWE. After his retirement as a wrestler, he worked behind the scenes for the WWE as a producer, someone who works with the wrestlers to help them put together the flow of their matches, and currently does this for AEW.
At age 18, the 1-2-3 Kid made a decision that would mark the first major turning point of his career. The Kid packed his bags and left the warm, sunny Florida climate for the cold days and nights of Minneapolis, Minnesota. The Kid had a reason for his geographical relocation. It was a shrewd maneuver that would bring him national attention before he was out of his teens.
In the town of Edina, Minnesota, a suburb of the Twin Cities, one promotion existed that closely resembled the regional promotions of old. It was owned and operated by Eddie Sharkey and doing thriving business. With no television and little advertising, the reputation of Pro Wrestling America grew by word of mouth. Relying on “hard works and presenting a little something for everybody,” the PWA actually was outdrawing the AWA in the late ‘80s.
Sharkey, a well-known lightweight wrestler during the ‘60s, is widely considered the greatest active wrestling trainer. Although his wrestling school was officially founded in 1984, Sharkey was training wrestlers several years before that on an informal basis. The list of wrestlers he trained is impressive: The Legion of Doom, Rick Rude, Rick Steiner, Bob Backlund, Jesse Ventura, and The Warlord, to name a few. It was not uncommon for a talent scout from the big leagues, as well as Japan, to come to his shows. Scouts respected Sharkey’s opinion and knew he had an uncanny ability for picking out future greats.
Russell’s 2025 commentary: In the early 90s pro wrestling schools were not so common like they are today. To get started in pro wrestling at that time, be it as a wrestler, manager or even referee, it was largely about having a connection with someone in the business who would train you themselves if willing and capable or endorse and connect you with an ex or current wrestler to train you.
By the mid to late ‘90s, part of the time I was refereeing, things had changed significantly. Pro wrestling schools, of varying quality, were common, easy to locate, eager to have trainees, and most from my observation accepted anyone who paid the tuition regardless of if they appeared to have any initial potential or not, whether it be based on look or athletic ability. Most wrestling schools did not hold try-outs to decide who would be allowed to enroll.
During this time period, I was helping out a wrestling school by refereeing training matches a few nights a week, and one evening as I chatted with the owner, I observed a steady string of unfamiliar 20 something men coming into his office, handing him a check and leaving. I finally asked him who all those guys were. He smiled and said they were trainees from the school. They all had signed contracts to make payment every month but rarely showed up for a class because they found the classes too physically demanding, he told me
Because of his success in getting his wrestlers into the big leagues, Sharkey is constantly besieged by requests from dozens of aspiring wrestlers wanting to work for him. 1-2-3 Kid was one of the lucky ones. Sharkey was able to find a place for the 18-year-old in his league. After seeing The Kid wrestle his first match in the PWA, Sharkey never regretted his decision.
When the 1-2-3 Kid emerged from the dressing room for his first match in Minnesota, the fans were a little surprised. After all, with his youthful looks and thin build this guy couldn’t possibly be a wrestler. As he walked to the ring that night most of the fans in the audience were laughing and taunting him. They were amused at the mere sight of him. Sharkey recalls that the laughing stopped about two minutes into the match. It never started up again in a PWA ring.
“The fans were really giving him a hard time,” recalled Sharkey. “They were treating him like a complete joke. But he gets in there and does one move and the crowd gets real hushed and silent. Then he starts doing more moves and at this point you can see a subtle change in the crowd’s attitude. They didn’t see him as a skinny 18-year-old anymore. They just saw a good wrestler.”
Sharkey also remembers that as The Kid left the ring that night many of the people who had been booing and taunting him were now standing and cheering him.
Russell’s 2025 commentary: I was not at this actual match or ever saw it on videotape. The entire story was recounted to me by Sharkey in great detail during one of our weekly conversations in response to my question if there were any wrestlers that had debuted at the last Pro Wrestling America show that he saw WWE or WCW potential in.
Wrestling magazines around the country began to hear reports about a high-flying 18-year-old working out of Minnesota. Reporters were anxious to witness him in action and see if he lived up to his hype.
Russell’s 2025 commentary: Well, this reporter was at least. I initially interviewed Waltman based on Sharkey’s recommendation without having seen him wrestle or even knowing what he looked like. A videotape of his matches and some promo photos arrived weeks later in the mail.
Most of the wrestling public finally got their chance in the summer of 1991 when Joe Pedicino launched the Global Wrestling Federation with a show broadcasted five times a week on ESPN. Pedicino recruited several well-known names to launch his promotion, including Stan Hansen, Terry Gordy and Jim Cornette. One newcomer, however, who really impressed Pedicino was a 19-year-old working out of Minnesota then under the name The Lightning Kid.
The Lightning Kid was considered to be a bit small, but had the skills to match any of Japan’s highflyers. Pedicino decided that The Lightning Kid would be perfect for the GWF light heavyweight division.
“The GWF was a great place to work,” commented The Kid shortly after his last match there. “I got more exposure and recognition than ever before, and it did wonders for making me a more familiar name to the wrestling public at large and for other promoters around the world to see my talent firsthand.”
During his tenure in GWF the 1-2-3 Kid’s attitude was quite different than what he currently displays in the rings of the WWF. He was still a highflyer and a fierce and determined competitor, but he was considered a member of the rule breaking fraternity. On making his transition to the national TV circuit, the 1-2-3 Kid felt he needed a boost to get started on the right track. At the time, he felt combining rule breaking tactics with his scientific skills was the quickest route to success and recognition. As a rulebreaker The Kid proved more than effective. In fact, he ruled the GWF light-heavyweight division with an iron fist.
Russell’s 2025 commentary: A light heavyweight division was considered innovative at the time when GWF launched it. The NWA had a junior heavyweight champion for several years in the mid 80s, Nelson Royal, but it was hardly ever acknowledged on TV, and I never recall the title being defended on any of their many television shows. It was as if they forgot they had a junior heavyweight champion.
In December 1991, the 1-2-3 Kid made his last appearance in the GWF. After his GWF stint The Kid returned to Minneapolis as a national wrestling star. His abilities had impressed a lot of people, but the general consensus was, despite his skill, he was just too small to make it in the big leagues.
While he still had a lot of skeptics in the United States, the foreign element in the wrestling business was more than appreciative of his work. He found regular work in Japan with the UWF and in Mexico with EMLL. The future however of the 1-2-3 Kid on the American circuit remained a major question mark.
By early 1992, the 1-2-3 Kid had one goal in wrestling.
“I want to be sitting pretty with a big fat contract in a few years,” he laughed.
Russell’s 2025 commentary: Wrestling quotes in pro wrestling magazines in general were often made up to fit in with the wrestler’s character. When I did this, I always asked permission, and the rising stars were always fine with this because the idea of the article on them was to promote them. I remember with Waltman the quotes attributed to him were actual quotes.
Then a bizarre event took place in professional wrestling. A steroid scandal rocked the wrestling world. Suddenly, the heavily muscled bodybuilder-like physiques that had become commonplace and were thought to be a necessary ingredient to make it in the wrestling business instead became a liability. Promoters began to realize they could no longer emphasize huge musclemen without the risking the public scrutiny resulting in steroid witch hunts.
A gradual change occurred. An emphasis began to be placed on skill and technical ability for the first time. In the WWF, men like Bret Hart, Curt Hennig and other grapplers with more normal-sized builds and superior mat skills were being given more of the spotlight. But the question still remained for the 1-2-3 Kid, at barely 20 years old and just 6 feet 1 inch, 215 lbs.: Was his superior and exciting style enough for the new opportunities becoming available in the WWF?
“What makes me different than the next wrestler is that I try that much harder in the ring and always try to search for something extra,” said The Kid during his independent stints of late 1992. “I know I have less physical size than the average wrestler, so I compensate that by doing more high risk moves and trying to incorporate forgotten holds into the mat game. I’m not scared of facing anybody or trying any move.”
The 1-2-3 Kid certainly wasn’t afraid of trying any move one night during a match in Massachusetts when he climbed to the top turnbuckle and leaped outside the ring toward an opponent. At the last instant The Kid’s opponent moved and threw his timing off. The Kid missed his foe and landed hard on the concrete floor, headfirst.
“His head literally bounced off the floor,” said Eddie Sharkey. “It was one of those scary moments you hate to see in the sport.”
Many people thought The Kid’s career might very well be over as the ring attendants rushed to ringside to peel his unconscious body off the floor and rush him to the hospital. The Kid was fortunate not to have suffered any serious injury and recovered quickly. In the weeks following his return to wrestling he gave no inkling to having ever suffered a near career-ending injury. It was the same old Kid, leaping off the top rope and doing karate kicks.
In the late spring of 1993, The Kid finally made his debut in the WWF, but with no fanfare or attention. He was matched against Razor Ramon at a television taping. It seemed like déjà vu for his long-time fans as The Kid walked out to the ring and attendees who were not familiar with him laughed, and commentators poked fun at his youthful appearance. What followed will probably go down as one of the greatest upsets in the history of television wrestling. The Kid took a terrible beating from Ramon throughout the early part of the match, but he refused to quit and kept fighting against his veteran opponent with everything he had. Then it happened. It was one of those moments a wrestling fan never forgets.
Ramon whipped The Kid into the corner and The Kid came out flying. He landed on top of Razor and, with three slaps of the referee’s hand, the upset of the year occurred and a star was born. One would be hard-pressed to recall any incident in WWF history where a wrestler entered a TV match billed as a preliminary grappler only to pin his star opponent.
Russell’s 2025 commentary: I think the unknown wrestler beats the star as a wrestling angle has been underused in the annals of modern pro wrestling, and that it has great potential when executed right to get an emotional reaction out of viewers.
The only example of this I can think of this from the 2000s is when Action Andretti, who I had been watching in the months prior in top tier independent promotion MCW, defeated Chris Jericho in an AEW match. I don’t think most of the AEW viewing audience had seen Andretti before to know he was an impressive talent on high profile independent shows. Therefore, the win had the same kind of surprise element as the 1-2-3 Kid’s upset nearly thirty years prior.
Razor was incensed at being beat by the youngster. Everywhere he went fans chanted “1-2-3” to mock him. The chant had a nice ring to it. Soon The Kid began being called the 1-2-3 Kid in honor of his victory. Ramon requested a rematch and offered $10,000 as an incentive for The Kid should he emerge unscathed.
The Kid accepted and got the last laugh. About mid-way through the match The Kid stumbled out of the ring acting dazed. But he knew full well what he was doing. He went over to the corner and grabbed the bag of prize money and began to walk away. When Razor realized The Kid was taking his dough, he went after him. But The Kid took off and ran clear out of the building to a car waiting for him with the engine running. The last images the fans saw were the car with the 1-2-3 Kid speeding away and Razor crying over his lost cash. The 1-2-3 Kid had succeeded in capturing the imagination of the WWF audience. He was there to stay.
Some observers claimed that the 1-2-3 Kid’s early victory over Ramon was a fluke. But he proved them wrong with an impressive string of wins, including one over Ted DiBiase before finally getting defeated by IRS at SummerSlam ’93. The 1-2-3 Kid has since emerged as one of the most exciting wrestlers to watch in the WWF. With his high flying fast paced style there is never a dull moment. A win over Jeff Jarrett at the King of the Ring tournament this past July and then a narrow loss to eventual winner Owen Hart further established him as a contender for a singles championship.
After six- and one-half years of hard work and a never-say-die attitude, the 1-2-3 Kid finally got his day in the sun when he was granted a World Heavyweight Championship match against Bret Hart on Monday Night RAW. If there ever was a doubt that The Kid belonged, he proved it in spades and silenced his critics once and for all with this match. The Kid not only matched Hart hold for hold, he came extremely close to beating the champ. The match was one of the most narrowly contested title matches of recent history. You could see the respect and admiration in Bret’s face when he shook The Kid’s hand after the match and held his arm in the air, so the audience could salute him. Nobody would ever underestimate the 1-2-3 Kid again.
Russell’s 2025: The Bret Hart match I think put Waltman over even more than the Ramon win. In the match with Hart, WWF presented the 1-2-3 Kid as equal to the champion and with the credibility that was the next level needed after a recent “fluke” win over a major star.
The 1-2-3 Kid is a shining example of the kind of athlete that people can admire. He set a goal as a youngster and went out to achieve it through hard work and determination. Only in his early ‘20s, The Kid has many more years ahead of him in the mat game to thrill fans from coast to coast. Because of his young age and more realistic-looking size and build, the average fan finds him easy to relate to. His easy-going attitude has proven to be one of the major factors of his popularity. The 1-2-3 Kid had proven that dreams can come true.
Russell’s 2025 commentary: In 1995, the 1-2-3 Kid’s character would be shifted as he was turned heel to join Ted DiBiase’s Million Dollar Corporation faction. Later in this same decade, Waltman was members of two of the prominent factions in pro wrestling: WCW’s nWo (as Syxx) and WWF’s D-Generation X (as X-Pac).
He was inducted in WWE Hall of Fame in 2019 as a member of D-Generation X and again in 2021 as a member of the nWo.
You can read the prior installment of the Recollections of a Pro Wrestling Reporter’s Notebook series here… The Louie Spicolli Story
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