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dantastic's review
5.0
Sabu: Scars, Silence, & Superglue is the biography of professional wrestler Sabu.
Even before I ever saw him wrestle on TV, I was a Sabu fan. The maniacal daredevil captured my imagination in articles in the Apter wrestling mags. Hell, one of my first wrestling shirts was a Sabu shirt that I eventually wore to death. Anyway, my wife bought this for me a while back and I wolfed it down in two evenings while waiting for my son to fall asleep.
It's cliche to say a wrestling book pulls no punches but Sabu lays it all out there from the very beginning, from getting shot in the face as a teenager while hanging with the wrong crowd, to wetting the bed until he was 13, to not getting laid until he was 20. After the shooting, Sabu starts training the old school way with his uncle, The Sheik!
Sabu talks about his uncle working him like a dog with manual labor to try to get him to quit before taking him on the road, a road that would take him to Japan, ECW, WCW, the WWE, TNA, and various points between. Sabu's tone is pretty humble but he also isn't afraid to call people out on shitty behavior, like Ric Flair, Jim Ross, and Test, to name a few. He also puts over the people who treated him good, like Bret Hart and Terry Funk.
Unlike a lot of wrestling books, this books has tons of great road stories in it, like getting pulled over in his Winnebago with a bunch of Japanese wrestlers on the way to a show or pissing off the yakuza in Japan. Sabu also goes into depth about the backstage stuff everywhere he worked and gut churning details about his various injuries. He's honest about mistakes he made and things he should have done differently. He also doesn't go out of the way to put himself over, even though he was one of the most influential wrestlers of the 1990s. People are still stealing his stuff today.
For my money, Sabu: Scars, Silence, & Superglue is the epitome of what a wrestling book should be. Five out of five scars.
Even before I ever saw him wrestle on TV, I was a Sabu fan. The maniacal daredevil captured my imagination in articles in the Apter wrestling mags. Hell, one of my first wrestling shirts was a Sabu shirt that I eventually wore to death. Anyway, my wife bought this for me a while back and I wolfed it down in two evenings while waiting for my son to fall asleep.
It's cliche to say a wrestling book pulls no punches but Sabu lays it all out there from the very beginning, from getting shot in the face as a teenager while hanging with the wrong crowd, to wetting the bed until he was 13, to not getting laid until he was 20. After the shooting, Sabu starts training the old school way with his uncle, The Sheik!
Sabu talks about his uncle working him like a dog with manual labor to try to get him to quit before taking him on the road, a road that would take him to Japan, ECW, WCW, the WWE, TNA, and various points between. Sabu's tone is pretty humble but he also isn't afraid to call people out on shitty behavior, like Ric Flair, Jim Ross, and Test, to name a few. He also puts over the people who treated him good, like Bret Hart and Terry Funk.
Unlike a lot of wrestling books, this books has tons of great road stories in it, like getting pulled over in his Winnebago with a bunch of Japanese wrestlers on the way to a show or pissing off the yakuza in Japan. Sabu also goes into depth about the backstage stuff everywhere he worked and gut churning details about his various injuries. He's honest about mistakes he made and things he should have done differently. He also doesn't go out of the way to put himself over, even though he was one of the most influential wrestlers of the 1990s. People are still stealing his stuff today.
For my money, Sabu: Scars, Silence, & Superglue is the epitome of what a wrestling book should be. Five out of five scars.
gsatori's review
4.0
We won't focus on the skill of craft of writing but instead the personality that comes through this memoir. Sabu, nephew to the Sheik, and a fellow Michigander, was and is a bad ass. This book has a ton of fun anecdotes and offers insight to a world of wrestling most don't see.
To Melissa Coates, R.I.P.
To Melissa Coates, R.I.P.
mscarle's review
3.0
Starts strong but then just, eh. Interesting stories but not one of the top-tier wrestler memoirs I've read.
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