Debrah Miceli - The Woman Who Would Be King: The MADUSA Story

Debrah Miceli and Greg Oliver

Foreword by Paul Heyman

Dedicated to my mom who absolutely hates the thought of this book.

To my father, a man that never knew I existed.

To the family and friends that stuck around, not wanting a thing.

To careers that nearly killed me emotionally, financially, and spiritually.

To my fans, past, present, and future, you truly are my energy to continue.

To all those that are lost, may they be found and heard.

Most of all, to love, patience, and spiritual healing for helping me always find a way.

Paul Heyman hugs Debrah Miceli at the 2015 WWE Hall of Fame ceremony.

Photo courtesy WWE

The first time I ever met Madusa was in July 1987. We had both just been hired by Verne Gagnes Minneapolis, Minnesotabased American Wrestling Association (AWA), which at the time aired nationally on ESPN. While the promotion had already enjoyed its glory days, it was still one of the Big 3 promotions in the United States, and its championship was recognized around the world. Getting picked up by the AWA meant you were now working for a big-league promotion.

I was 21 years old and was making both friends and enemies at a record pace. One of the people I knew from my days as a teenaged photographer was Curt Hennig, then the AWAs World Heavyweight champion and a sensational performer who would find greater fame just a few years later as Mr. Perfect with World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE). Curt was a second-generation professional wrestler, and his father, Larry The Axe Hennig, had a love/hate relationship with the Gagnes for years.

As soon as I got to the AWA, Curt and I started to conspire on how we could get Verne to allow us to work together. The newly minted villainous heavyweight champion and the loudmouth manager from New York seemed like (all puns intended) a perfect combination. On the days we would tape interviews (promos) in Minneapolis, Curt and I could always be found huddled in a corner, watching everyone else do their shtick, taking notes, and figuring out how to top every single one of them.

At the time, the top female performer in the AWA was their womens champion and sometimes-ringside-manager Sherri Martel, and it was no secret Sherri needed new people to work with. Verne finally hired a Minneapolis-based talent named Madusa Miceli. This was quite the controversial decision, since Madusa was trained by Eddie Sharkey, a long-time rival of the Gagnes, but whose training camp had already produced The Road Warriors, the last big box office attractions the Gagne promotion got to enjoy.

Madusa was different from the get-go. She had the blonde hair and the great looks, but from the moment she walked into the room, you knew this was not some powder puff who learned how to take bumps. This was a fighter. A legit athlete. A badass. Someone to be reckoned with. And someone whose ideas about women in the business were not limited to either special attraction womens match or valet. Madusa walked in determined to be an equal talent to anyone, male or female, and she wanted to compete with them for the top spot even if it meant competing with me for the top manager spot or competing with Curt Hennig for the position of being the number one wrestler in the promotion.

Now, 35-plus years later, the reader of this foreword will most likely say, Sounds right to me! But in 1987, the concept of a female competing with men for the top spot, and a manager let alone wrestler in this business, was not even part of the conversation in the professional wrestling / sports entertainment industry. Madusa was not only beyond ambitious, but also she was indescribably ahead of her time.

Madusa arrived already at odds with Sherri Martel, who did not like the forward-thinking vision Madusa had no desire to hide. And Martel had zero desire to partake in a storyline in which Madusa would wind up the AWA Womens champion. Sherri, super popular with everyone in the locker room, was headed for WWE. And Madusa, the new girl on the block trained by local tough guy Eddie Sharkey, with the reputation of working local Midwest indies for five dollars a night just to get the experience necessary to break into the big leagues, was facing a situation where the rest of the talent in the locker room wasnt going to be welcoming.

In case youre wondering, Madusa couldnt have cared less.

She walked into the Gagnes office/production facility in Minneapolis with her chin up and her chest out. Square-shouldered and fists clenched, a smile on her face that let you know this was not only a strikingly good-looking woman, but also a confident one. Curt decided to have some fun and introduce himself to her and see what all the fuss was about. As he went to talk with her, I was summoned to do an interview promoting our next event in Las Vegas, Nevada; or Green Bay, Wisconsin; or Denver, Colorado; or wherever else the AWA was running an event featuring the talent I was managing at the time. As soon as my interview was over, I darted over to Curt and couldnt wait for the scouting report. So, how was your first encounter? Is she cool? Is she nice? Does she know anything about the business? Tell me!

Curt, ever the practical joker (ribber) said, You gotta meet her! Shes great!

So, I straightened my tie, popped a breath mint into my mouth, and walked over to her, with my hand extended for our initial handshake greeting. Hi, I squeaked. My name is Paul Heyman. People call me Paul E. Dangerously. Its a pleasure to meet you!

Madusa shook my hand, harder than most men ever had up until that point in my life, looked me straight in the eye, and said, Im Debrah. People call me Madusa. Dont fuck with me!

She didnt let go of my hand. She made sure that eye contact lasted long enough for me to know just how deadly serious she was. Then she broke into a slight grin as if to say, I think you got the message, right? let my hand go, and walked away.

I left the AWA at the end of 1987, and Madusa was out the door not too long after I was. I bounced around a little bit until landing at the Ted Turnerowned World Championship Wrestling promotion, while Madusa went out to Asia and not only honed her craft, but also developed a reputation as one of the single toughest females in or out of the pro wrestling business.

So, it was a no-brainer in 1991 when Dusty Rhodes, Jim Ross (J.R.), Jim Crockett (Crockett), and I were putting together a new Horsemen-like faction called the Dangerous Alliance. I wanted someone in the group who would play a role that had never been attempted before. We needed a James Bond villain, and that heel would be known as the Director of Covert Operations. There was only one person for the job.

Madusa.

Dusty knew she could be a revolutionary, indeed an evolutionary talent. J.R. loved the idea before I even finished pitching it. Crockett, who wasnt all that familiar with her work, asked, Whats she like?

Shes too talented for her own good, I told Crockett, at one time the number two promoter in the United States behind Vince McMahon and the owner of the promotion Ted Turner bought and rechristened World Championship Wrestling. Shes got great camera presence, a boatload of charisma, can help us fight our way back to the locker room in case of a riot, can credibly wrestle anyone, male or female, if we want her to, and can take much better bumps and beatings than I can!