Midcard Faces is an ongoing series where I’ll be checking in with some fond memories of those wrestlers who got over, but never got to the top. It’s a mini-celebration of some favorite midcard babyfaces that we loved but didn’t love in the main event. We continue this series with the original Birdman, Koko B. Ware.

How They Got Their Start You can already hear the music, can’t you? That staccato snare drum roll that sounds somehow like a cross between a marching band, gospel and boogie woogie piano music all at once? Yeah. If you want to take a moment and do The Bird, that’s cool. Take your time. I’ll wait for Morris Day. Koko got his start in Jerry Jarrett’s territory around 1978 and had some fun feuds with Jimmy Valiant and the incredibly underrated Bobby Eaton. The Eaton feud led to a particularly fun “Loser Leaves Town Match” that introduced the world to the masked Stagger Lee upon Koko’s inevitable return for vengeance. Since “Stagger Lee” (or sometimes “Stacker Lee”) is an old folk tale about a guy who is synonymous with murder, I’d say Koko was more of a straight-up assassin than Frankie The Macaw would have let on. Feel free to watch “Stagger Lee” chew up and spit out Pre-Million Dollar Man Ted DiBiase in 30 seconds. Speaking of masked men and murder, Koko was as strong as an ox and it’s the guys in the goofier gimmicks later in their careers who you just know are the toughest S.O.B.s because they can handle themselves if anyone slips up and tries to get too cute. Like, apparently, The Masked Patriot. I said, GOT DAMN! It’s a good thing my man was wearing a mask, because I would never be able to show my face in the state of Tennessee again if that were me being taken to the woodshed like that.

Four seconds after the bell rang, Koko decided he had already had enough of this dude’s bullshit. Five seconds after that, this dude is out cold from a clothesline so vicious Sam Houston would have sold it like he was ascending to Heaven to sit at the Right Hand of God. The Masked Patriot is just a 208-pound sack of twice baked potatoes at this point, and Koko hoists him up in the air and drops him on his neck like it was nothing. Koko is listed at 222 pounds here. February 22nd is my least favorite date on the calendar of all time, as it is the ex-fiancee and I’s anniversary, but I’d rather spend Christmas with her family than get Koko’s sandwich order wrong. The little baby stomps to the back and the slap to the face during the count is just mean. Koko is so pissed off the ref has to literally chase him to the curtain to raise his hand, and Koko couldn’t be more disinterested in the television program he forgot he was currently on. Yeesh. This is a squash match where the jobber literally left as a squash. Seriously, I bet they planted him behind the building and every summer young masked lovers carve their initials into his singlet. How I First Became Aware Of Him WrestleMania III is the first time I ever saw Koko B. Ware, but it would be against the spirit of these articles if we didn’t point out that our feathery friend was actually in the very first Raw match. Ever. You are a Super Midcard Legend if Big Daddy Vince is going to hand you the keys to the new car and say, “Go out there and get this show started.” That is called being a professional wrestler. I’d kill for something like that on my CV.