If you are an American man of my age there is a decent chance the above image evokes a batch of memories for you.
This guy was a talented performer, who made a small child believe a slightly portly baldie was a demented strongman better suited for a mental hospital than an athletic contest.
He ate turnbuckles, as he'd become distracted during his WWWF matches, sort of like how Trump gets distracted.
He also cheated, quite craftily being that it was implied his IQ was sub moron level. He'd hide a “foreign object,” it usually looked like a wooden spoon from a Hoodsy Cup, in his trunks, pull it out and jab it into foes' wind pipe.
Masterful entertainer was George “The Animal” Steele.
I appreciate his talent and thank him for the fond memories. My hairy back is today an homage to the man.