The Black Scorpion Saga

In the fall of 1990, I was twelve years old and as you already know by now, completely hooked on professional wrestling. WCW was my world. Sting was one of my favorites. He had the face paint, the bleach-blond flat top, and the kind of charisma that made you believe in good guys. He wasn’t just a wrestler, he was a superhero with a scorpion on his tights. And then, out of nowhere, came the Black Scorpion.

It started with these eerie, cryptic promos. A shadowy figure with a distorted voice, cloaked in mystery, claiming to know Sting’s past. “I know who you are, Sting,” he’d say, and I’d sit there in front of the TV, wide-eyed and leaning forward, trying to figure it out. Who was this guy? What did he know? Was it someone his early days in the UWF? Was it the Ultimate Warrior? Was it someone else from the WWF?

Every week, the Black Scorpion would appear in some bizarre segment…sometimes in a darkened arena, sometimes in pre-taped vignettes that looked like they were filmed in a haunted funhouse. He’d perform magic tricks, make people disappear, have people attack Sting, and speak in riddles. It was weird. It was cheesy. It was also completely mesmerizing.

I remember talking about it at school with my buddies. We all had theories. Some swore it was someone in WCW. Others were convinced it was a returning wrestler from the WWF. One kid even said it was Sting’s evil twin. We didn’t care how far-fetched it sounded. We just wanted to know who was under that mask.

As Starrcade ’90 approached in December, the anticipation reached a fever pitch. WCW had been teasing the unmasking for months, and now it was finally going to happen. The main event: Sting vs. The Black Scorpion, steel cage match, with Dick the Bruiser as the special referee. Sting’s world title vs. the mask of The Black Scorpion. It felt like the Super Bowl, the World Series, the circus, and the carnival were all rolling into town at the same just a week before Christmas.

I remember watching that night, with the glow of the screen lighting up our living room. The cage lowered, the lights dimmed, and the Black Scorpion made his entrance…complete with smoke, lasers, and a spaceship-looking pod. It was so over-the-top, so ridiculous, and yet I couldn’t look away. This was it. The moment we’d all been waiting for.

The match itself was chaotic. Sting fought like a man possessed, and the Scorpion, who had been portrayed by different wrestlers in the lead-up, was finally revealed to be Ric Flair. Ric Flair! The Nature Boy himself, hiding behind the mask the whole time. Part of me was shocked, part of me wasn’t. Flair was always lurking, and always scheming. But still, the reveal hit like a thunderclap.

Looking back, the whole storyline was a mess. The promos were strange, the identity of the Scorpion kept changing, and the payoff was a little underwhelming. But at twelve years old, none of that mattered. What mattered was the build-up, the mystery, the feeling that something huge was about to happen. Starrcade ’90 was the culmination of months of speculation, and for me, it was unforgettable.

The Black Scorpion may not go down in history as one of wrestling’s greatest storylines, but for those of us who lived through it, who waited week after week for the next clue, who argued with friends at lunch about who it could be, it was awesome. The kind of awesomeness that only wrestling, in all its wild, unpredictable glory, can deliver.