I’m going to share a thought with you right now that I haven’t in some twenty years. It’s a thought that will probably get me laughed at or possibly out of the Internet Wrestling Community altogether, but since I consider myself more of a fan than any kind of expert, I’m willing to take that risk.
I miss Outback Jack.
Yeah, I said it. I miss Outback Jack. For those of you who are too young to remember, the World Wrestling Federation once had a guy from Australia named Outback Jack. I’m guessing his character had something to do with the whole Crocodile Dundee thing and Paul Hogan’s popularity in the States at the time. Whatever the inspiration, his character was a bit different from the rest of the emerging circus that was the WWF. Most of the other characters at the time were over the top or borderline insane, like Hulk Hogan or Randy Savage. They had muscles on top of muscles, like Paul Orndorff or Hercules Hernandez. And there were those who had country accents and extreme personalities to boot, like Hillbilly Jim or Honky Tonk Man. Most everyone yelled.
Not Outback Jack. He was different. He didn’t have the superstar look or the voice. He had missing teeth, pasty skin and wasn’t exactly photogenic. He didn’t really yell, always making it clear that being in the States, everything would be alright, win or lose. Outback Jack wanted his share of the American Dream ideal and was happy with simply being part of the experience, no matter if he won or lost. It’s possible that I’m in Halcyon Mode while reflecting, but I remember finding Jack to be pretty endearing. Not to mention, he had a pretty sweet finisher that I’d love to see return.
It was called the Boomerang. Bill Goldberg had the Spear And Jackhammer finishing combination. Outback Jack had his Boomerang. It started off with hitting a dazed opponent with a clothesline off the ropes. And as the the weakened wrestler (already worn down from an offensive barrage beforehand) is able to pick himself up again, the Boomerang Clothesline itself, as Jack bounces off the ropes and drills a devastating clothesline from behind, immediately impacting the back of the opponent’s neck and practically shutting the body down as the brain overloads from the nerves rushing to it. From there, the three count and a thousand or so cheering fans in the audience.
The problem is that in terms of workrate, Outback Jack wasn’t exactly the best of the bunch. He wound up not lasting too long, which is a shame, jobbing out mostly in tag team matches (including a six-man where he teamed up with Brady Boone and a young Steve Blackman…yes, the same one from the 1990s in a loss to the Islanders and some other guy who didn’t last long named Afi) From there, Outback Jack became the stuff of legend in terms of the, “Where Are They Now?” kind. I’m pretty sure Jack’s been dismissed largely as a joke in the years since, especially given all the vignettes he had heralding his arrival. If nothing else, it can now be known that he had at least one fan that wound up with internet access.
I’ll end this with a hypothetical situation and question. It’s a triple threat match, one fall to the finish. Outback Jack Vs. Cactus Jack Vs. New Jack. Who wins?
