Ask nearly anyone to describe Mr. T. and you’ve got the same description: the mohawk, the gold jewelry, the tank top, the muscles…It’s so distinct that it must be planned. And it is. But we bet you couldn’t tell us the significance of any of it: what the mohawk and chains symbolize, what the “T” really means deep down. And we bet you couldn’t tell us Mr. T.’s real name if your mama’s life depended on it. Is it for Tender? Or Tough? Maybe a little of both, depending on if he’s spitting motivational phrases or ready to whoop some butt at the club. But rest assured, every move of Mr. T.’s – ever since being discovered by Sylvester Stallone – has been calculated, whose presence and aura – despite being tied to one specific moment in time – remains unforgettable. And yet, we know so little about the man. Let’s find out: What Happened to MR. T?
But to truly understand what happened to Mr. T, we go back to the beginning. He was born on May 21st, 1952 in Chicago, Illinois, the youngest of a dozen in the projects. And no, his real name isn’t Mr. T: it’s Laurence Tureaud. The Mr. T. moniker was done to demand respect as a Black man in America. With that, you had no choice but to respect him.
A nature athlete, Mr. T – that’s right, he earned our respect already! – took to wrestling and football early on, even later trying out (unsuccessfully) for the NFL. With that a bust, he enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1975, proving to be a top trainee in the USAMPA. In an almost mythical, Paul Bunyan-esque story – only not so because Mr. T confirmed it – the recruit found himself in trouble and so, as punishment, was forced to cut down trees…and he did, chopping down 70 in just over three hours. B.A. indeed!
Mr. T. used his background to land a job as a club bouncer, first donning his trademark gold chains, almost daring people to try to snag them. He likened them to shackles worn by his slave ancestors. Similarly, his Mandinka-inspired mohawk was inspired by the tribe of the same name. And while we always associate the gold with the man, you might not have noticed that he dropped them in the wake of Hurricane Katrina as a sign of respect. Even still, in 2010, he did partake in a company that specialized in buying gold. Look, the dude hawked everything from car wax to title loans, socks, candy, credit cards, and laundry detergent – the gold gig was no surprise.
To explain just how big and bad Mr. T. was, check out his client list: Michael Jackson, Diana Ross and Steve McQueen. Not tough enough for you? He was also the dude in charge of protecting Joe Frazier and Muhammad Ali (from whom he snagged many of his mannerisms and poetic speech patterns)! No wonder he was named “World’s Toughest Bouncer”…And that’s what got him recognized by Sylvester Stallone, who was at work on what would become Rocky III…
By 1982, Mr. T. already had a small selection of credits, as in his unnamed part in The Blues Brothers (1980) and 1982’s Penitentiary II, playing himself, something he would do in countless shows: Games People Play (1981), Twilight Theater (1982), Silver Spoons (1982), Diff’rent Strokes (1983), Alvin and the Chipmunks (1983), Out of This World (1991), Blossom (1994), House of Mouse (2003), Johnny Bravo (2004), The Simpsons (2004), 1999’s Inspector Gadget, and on and on and on.
But 1982 was his true coming out party. As Clubber Lang – Balboa’s main opponent, standing in for Apollo Creed – Mr. T. brought a level of charisma, attitude and power that had so rarely been seen in such form. It says something that heavyweight champ Joe Frazier – a former client of Mr. T. – was considered for the part. But Sly saw something in Mr. T. that helped propel him into the stratosphere of the ‘80s mainstream, using his mannerisms, quirks and mic skills to flesh out Clubber Lang and make him one of the defining characters of the Rocky series. This, too, was the origin of the “I pity the fool!” quote, the line most associated with him that became one of the most recognizable catchphrases in pop culture. And here you thought it came from The A-Team…
Mr. T.’s momentum kept building, being cast as mercenary B.A. (Bad Attitude) Baracus in NBC action series The A-Team, joining the cast and immediately becoming the standout character when it debuted in 1983. (Of note, born-again Christian Mr. T. turned down a cameo in the 2010 movie adaptation of The A-Team, citing the script’s violence and sex.) Sure, maybe you had a Hannibal figure but Baracus was the one to get. And if you had a B.A. Baracus action figure, that probably wasn’t the only collectible you had, as nobody had just one Mr. T. piece in the ‘80s: lunch boxes, toy guns, cake toppers, playing cards, Halloween costumes, View-Masters, Chia Pets – you name it, the dude had his face on it. And who can forget the cereal, the favorite breakfast of one Pee-Wee Herman?
Like so few of his contemporaries, Mr. T. landed his very own animated show, in 1983. Although it ran for just 30 episodes, it had its place in the living rooms of ‘80s kids. In it, he played a gym teacher who spent time-solving mysteries with students…Weird, sure, but it also worked in moral lessons for the kiddos at home. By now, Mr. T. was nothing short of a role model. In 1984, he released the album MR. T.’S COMMANDMENTS, which had songs with titles like “Don’t Talk to Strangers” and “No Dope No Drugs”. This hit a peak in 1984 with the video release of BE SOMEBODY (OR BE SOMEBODY’S FOOL), which featured lessons on good deeds and a song called “Treat Your Mother Right”, which Mr. T said was almost as good as “Amazing Grace.” Mr. T.’s other key small screen role was T. And T. (1988-1990), which ran for three seasons after The A-Team went off the air.
While starring vehicles like D.C. Cab (1983) and the TV movie The Toughest Man in the World may not have worked out as he wanted, and the made-for-TV special A Christmas Dream with Emmanuel Lewis aka Webster is a straight-up bizarre time capsule in the cringiest way, Mr. T. had conquered pop culture up to that point. There was only one place left for him: the squared circle.
At the inaugural WrestleMania in 1985, Mr. T. teamed up with Thunderlips himself, Hulk Hogan, to take on Roddy Piper and Paul Orndorff. With T. and Hogan coming out victorious in the main event – something that bothered the actual wrestlers, who didn’t think he earned the spot – WrestleMania was a hit, helping mark a start to the WWE’s (then-WWF’s) biggest annual event and the celeb ties that come with it. The next year, he had another match, besting Piper in a boxing match (hey, celebs tend to win but we totally bought this one anyway). Believe it or not, Mr. T. is often credited with popularizing pro wrestling for the mainstream, and as such, he would make sporadic appearances in the WWF/WWE and WCW, later being inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame.
D.C. CAB may have a bit of a cult following (hey, it’s actually kind of fun!) but nothing else he did after has. Indeed, the cult following is behind the man, not the product. 1987 saw him playing Jabberwock in the TV movie version of Alice Through the Looking Glass, while he got genuine laughs as the Bearded Lady in oddball cult comedy Freaked. This was just the first of a series of weird roles for him: a helicopter pilot in Spy Hard (1996), The Wise Janitor trope in Not Another Teen Movie (2001), etc. He would also make good use of his distinct vocals, lending his talents to TV’s EEK! The Cat (1994), Sabrina: The Animated Series (1999) and a cop in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs (2009). He, too, would get frequent in-person spots in of-the-era shows like Martin (1996), Suddenly Susan (1996-1997) and Malcolm & Eddie (1999), as well as landing a role in 2001’s apocalyptic Judgment. But as you can imagine, basically anything after the ‘80s was either a joke or a waste of his personality. Look, there’s a reason there was once a Facebook petition page called “1,000,000 Strong for Mr. T in The Expendables 4”.
Even though he has dropped the gold and rarely makes public appearances, Mr. T continues to have a following – despite being locked into one specific decade, a point in time impossible to capture again. This is a guy who made millions off of a distinct look and sound, piggybacking off of his signature catchphrase to host a reality series called I Pity The Fool (2006). He’s such a product of his time – yet instantly recognizable – that you’d think he’d be perfect for something like Dancing with the Stars! Oh, wait, he was, being eliminated third in season 24 after Chris Kattan and Charo.
In 1995, Mr. T was diagnosed with cancer – t-cell lymphoma, to be exact. But he wasn’t negative about it, instead quipping, “Can you imagine that? Cancer with my name on it – personalized cancer.” That’s a tough dude right there, not only continuing to beat survival rate odds but making himself – not the cancer – the thing to beat.