WrestleMania XV, March 1999. A night famously billed as “The Ragin` Climax,” where storylines culminated and legends were forged in the spectacular, albeit choreographed, world of professional wrestling. Yet, amidst the predetermined drama, one particular segment stood out for its stark, unscripted reality. It was a moment when the theatrical squared circle briefly transformed into a brutal, genuine boxing ring, pitting a confident WWF wrestler against a formidable force from the world of legitimate combat sports. The outcome? A mere 35 seconds that etched itself into the annals of both disciplines.
The Unlikely Genesis: From “Brawl For All” to Boxing Ring
The stage for this extraordinary clash was inadvertently set by the WWF`s own controversial venture: the “Brawl For All” tournament. Conceived in the summer of 1998, this tournament was an attempt to showcase which professional wrestler was genuinely the “toughest” in a series of shootfighting-rules contests – real strikes, real takedowns, and very real consequences. It was a peculiar experiment, often messy and sometimes dangerous, that largely backfired on its creators.
One man, however, thrived within its chaotic structure: Bart Gunn, a tag-team specialist known more for his wrestling prowess than his pugilistic skills. Gunn defied expectations, securing victories over more favored opponents, including a shocking knockout of the formidable “Dr. Death” Steve Williams. His success, while impressive, ironically complicated future storylines, earning him the ire of WWF management who, it was rumored, felt they had lost control of their own narrative. Gunn`s reward for navigating this gauntlet? A main event match at WrestleMania. But this wouldn`t be a wrestling match. This would be a real boxing match against a man whose reputation for delivering genuine knockouts preceded him.
Enter the “King of the Four-Rounders”: Butterbean
Eric Esch, better known to the world as “Butterbean,” was far from an unknown quantity. At 5 feet 11 inches and over 300 pounds, he was a genuine boxing commodity with a record of 41-1-1 and 32 knockouts. He had already carved out a niche as the “King of the Four-Rounders” on Top Rank events, a heavyweight brawler whose sole intention was to end fights quickly and emphatically. Butterbean had even made a prior, scripted appearance in the WWF in 1997, winning a disqualification match against Marc Mero. That was an act; this, however, was not.
When the call came for him to return to the WWF for a legitimate fight against the “Brawl For All” winner, Butterbean`s perspective was refreshingly candid: “They said `it’s time to bring Butterbean in to show him; if he’s really a tough guy, we’ll find out`. Maybe it was because they knew I’d teach him a lesson.” Such confidence wasn`t arrogance; it was the quiet assurance of a professional who understood the fundamental difference between simulated combat and the unforgiving reality of a sanctioned boxing match.
The Mismatch in Preparation: Five Weeks vs. A Career
The disparity in preparation for this contest was staggering. Bart Gunn, a career professional wrestler, was sent to a boxing gym for a mere five weeks to learn a completely new discipline. As Gunn himself later reflected, “Wrong move. Now, everything I’ve done for 20-25 years that worked for me is wrong. So, I go into this fight as a green fighter, my first fight, with five weeks of training.” It`s a testament to the optimistic, if perhaps naive, belief that a dedicated athlete can simply transition disciplines at an elite level with minimal preparation. The subtle irony here is palpable: a tournament designed to crown the “toughest” wrestler ultimately led to an engagement where the rules of engagement were entirely foreign to its victor.
Butterbean, by contrast, had no such learning curve. He was accustomed to the brightest lights, the roar of massive crowds, and the brutal honesty of throwing real punches under immense pressure. His training, as he put it, was simple: “go out there and get it done.” There was no need for fundamental boxing lessons; he already possessed the fundamental power and instinct.
The 35-Second Reality Check
On March 28, 1999, at the First Union Center in Philadelphia, 20,000 live fans and nearly a million pay-per-view viewers watched history unfold. The atmosphere was electric, but the tension was underpinned by the knowledge that this was not entertainment as usual. With legendary boxer Vinny Pazienza as the referee, the bell rang, signaling the start of a contest that would be over before many had settled into their seats.
Gunn, despite his newfound boxing tutelage, was outmatched from the opening bell. Butterbean, with his characteristic relentless pressure, wasted no time. Two colossal right hands sent Gunn crashing to the canvas. Though he bravely rose at the count of eight, signaling his desire to continue, the fight was already effectively over. Just seconds later, another devastating right hand landed, sending Gunn sprawling backward, his head hitting the ropes on the way down. The knockout was brutal, instantaneous, and unequivocally decisive. It all took just 35 seconds.
It was a stark, almost poetic, conclusion to the “Brawl For All” narrative – a legitimate knockout delivered by a legitimate boxer, underscoring the profound chasm between athletic performance and raw, unforgiving combat.
Beyond the Ropes: Divergent Paths and Enduring Legacies
The ramifications of that 35-second encounter were immediate and long-lasting. For Bart Gunn, the knockout effectively ended his stay in the WWF. While he continued to wrestle elsewhere and even ventured into mixed martial arts years later, his prominent main event run within the WWF was irrevocably cut short. It was a harsh lesson in the unforgiving nature of stepping outside one`s established domain.
For Butterbean, the match was merely another stepping stone in a unique and diverse career. While there was talk of him potentially staying with the WWF, the financial incentives of his ongoing boxing career were simply too substantial to ignore. He went on to have an incredibly active 1999, boxing 13 times with a record of 12-0-1, including headlining a pay-per-view event against former Mike Tyson opponent Peter McNeeley. His career spanned boxing, MMA, and even notable cinematic appearances, most memorably flattening Johnny Knoxville in Jackass: The Movie with legitimate punches.
Perhaps the most intriguing part of Butterbean`s journey came years later. After retiring, he battled significant weight issues, reaching over 500 lbs. His redemption, oddly enough, came full circle back to the world of wrestling, specifically through the DDP Yoga system developed by former wrestler Diamond Dallas Page. This unexpected twist allowed him to reclaim his health, shedding substantial weight and regaining his vitality.
A Modern Callout: The Enduring Spirit of a Fighter
Today, at 58 years old and significantly healthier at 285 lbs, Eric “Butterbean” Esch finds himself feeling good enough to contemplate an improbable comeback. His target? None other than YouTube sensation turned boxer, Jake Paul. It`s a fascinating full-circle moment, echoing his own clash with a celebrity combatant years ago. “He wanted to run his mouth about me, talk bad about me, so why can’t he back it up?” Butterbean states, the fighter`s spirit undimmed.
He wouldn`t mind a shot at Mike Tyson either, though he acknowledges the slim odds. Regardless of whether these dream matches materialize, Butterbean`s story, particularly his 35-second demolition of Bart Gunn, serves as a poignant reminder. It`s a testament to the profound difference between performing strength and possessing it, between choreographed spectacle and the raw, unforgiving reality of a punch. It`s a legacy of a man who embraced his true calling and, in doing so, offered a stark, visceral lesson that transcended the world of sports entertainment.
The night Butterbean faced Bart Gunn wasn`t just a fight; it was a cultural collision, a brief but brutal exposé of where entertainment ends and legitimate combat begins. A moment frozen in time, forever reminding us of the unforgiving truth delivered in just 35 seconds.
Felix Harwood