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More than 2,000 people ringed the building owned by the Los Angeles Athletic Club seeking admittance to the Olympic last Friday. They never made it because the standing room capacity of 12,000 was above the plimsol two hours before caged fury was to erupt.

The attraction was the long-awaited rematch between Freddie Blassie and The Sheik. It took all of two weeks to get them together after The Sheik scored an unpopular victory on the first Friday of the month.

They had been matched in a cage said to be 15 feet high and constructed by Blassie, the ingenious student body president-elect of four Los Angeles area high schools.

Striving for a new dimension in the grand old sport of wrestling which has a B.C. backlog, Blassie proposed that he be locked in the cage with the Arab villain. After all, the California State Athletic Commission no longer allows grudge matches in a ring full of anchovies. There were too many complaints from the anchovies.

Under the Blassie Rules of Orderk, which differ from those of Roberts, the victor would be the man who left the other for dead and climbed from the cage to the ring floor.

In the first match, Freddie beat the bejabbers out of The Sheik. However, as he climbed from the cage, The Weasel, who has the same first name as The Sheik, dashed a potion said to be iodine into Blassie’s eyes. It must have been iodine. There was a skull and bones on the bottle.

"I can’t see," screamed the platinum Blassie as The Sheik finally was revived and climbed out of the cage. Blassie was administered to by the ring physician, Dr. Bernhart Schwartz, a miracle worker. Several minutes elapsed. Then Dr. Schwartz announced:

"Freddie Blassie will see again."

The news was greeted with the enthusiasm shown after a transplant by Dr. Christian Barnard. Bernhart deserved to be applauded for his honesty if nothing else. There never was much doubt in his mind that Freddie could see okay.

Sam Muchnick, who is to the National Wrestling Alliance what Pete Rozelle is to the NFL, ordered a rematch with The Sheik to give up a draft choice to be named later.

Promoter Mike LeBell proposed the Olympic as the site. He usually does. For it is in this building that LeBell, eldest son of Aileen Eaton, reigns as the Prince of Hokum.

It’s possible that LeBell is the nation’s most successful promoter of this strange sport that evokes laughter, rage, or tears, depending on one’s lack of or possession of senility.

The showmanship is priced at $5 and $3.50 for adults, with the second ticket available for one extra buck. The gate last Friday was in excess of $20,000, according to LeBell.

Mike and Freedie agreed that something had to be done to neutralize The Weasel, Sheik’s manager. So Freddie built another cage. It would be extended 50 feet above the ring.

The Weasel, who will go along with almost anything, balked at the suspension. "I am nauseated by height," he said, presumably a trauma experienced at the Golan Heights or Boyle Heights. He agreed to go 20 feet, while keeping a watchful eye for Israeli planes.

The crowd at the rematch was raucous but the folks didn’t get into any fights among themselves, a common hazard on Olympic boxing nights.

"The cage is 10 feet high, not 15," I told LeBell. "Yes," he said, "but’s another five feet from the mat to the auditorium floor."

The noise of bodies landing on the mat was awesome. A thin canvas covered the tin floor. Wrestlers don’t need as much padding to break the fall as boxers. These guys know how to fall. They do it six nights a week from L.A. to Pismo Beach.

Blassie, once the dreaded villain, was accorded cheers louder than those ever heard in the Olympic over the years for anyone from Mando Ramos to Henry Armstrong.

A cheer was struck up. "Bite ‘Em Blassie, Bite ‘Em" they exhorted. An incisor to the forehead is Freddie’s best hold.

Following five agonizing near escapes by The Sheik, Blassie threw pepper in his eyes, followed with bites and knee combinations to the groin and neck. All in good clean fun of course.

Blassie climbed from the cage and panted in a front row seat until attacked by John Tolos. The Sheik somehow made it out of the cage and left immediately for Toronto.

On the way out, the sight of all those happy people gave off a warm feeling until one terrifying thought.

Most of them vote.

Provided by J Michael Kenyon through WRESTLING AS WE LIKED IT.