CAC Benevolent Fund

Saturday Night Slam

May 12, 1972

This week, we lost another of the great German wrestlers, named Kurt Von Brauner. Jim Brawner was a super tag team member that was managed by Gentleman Saul Weingroff. My heart is filled with deep sympathy for his family. Rest In Peace ... Percival

Often, I will get out of a sealed box some of the programs from great matches I was involved in during my career. Recently, I came across this one from St. Joe, Missouri.

Angus and I had been in the Midwest only about a year and had captured about every title there was except for the NWA title currently being held by Dory Funk, Jr. Fans had jammed the city auditorium to capacity. They were ready to see a championship belt change hands that night.

The Ringsider, written weekly by Matt Starr, told a great story about Omar and his bid for the title belt. They claimed that he had visions beyond the Central States Championship Belt. That he had his eye on Dory Funk Jr. as a prime candidate to wrestle him at a later date. Matt wrote that he would have to get past "WILDHAIR", referring to Black Angus, to get that chance.

I knew that Omar had a training regimen of not less than three hours a day where he would work out with weights and do natural exercises to keep his powerful 225-pound frame in tip top shape. Often, my spies would tell me, that they had seen him doing push-ups while standing on his head against the wall. If you think this is easy, try it sometime. I guarantee that you won't do over one. I was told that Omar would do as many as 25 of these in one set of his training.

He would also use his towel for some exercises with the other guys pulling on it. Then, sometimes, he would use a couple of pieces of surgical tubing wrapped around building posts or his own body to stretch himself almost to where he would have physical damage to himself.

Then, he would get into his car and drive sometimes as much as 300 miles to his match that evening. Fans had no idea what we put ourselves through before getting to the arenas in the evening to do combat. This night, Omar and Angus only had a short distance to travel, and they were both at their peak for this match.

Just to show you how humongous the card was for the Friday evening, the opening match had Ronnie Etchison, the old pro from St. Joe, meeting the very unpopular Benny Ramirez, formerly "The Mummy". The match went close to the 15-minute time limit before Etchison caught Benny in a reverse crossface chicken wing to get the submission.

Terry Martin faced Fearless Frankie Diamond, who was taught by Sputnik Monroe. Terry used the speed that he possessed to outwrestle and counter every hold that Diamond grabbed on him. He won the match with a series of dropkicks and a body press.

Bob Orton Sr. came to the ring next to face Texas Bob Geigel. This match turned out to be nearly the most devastation that the night had seen between opponents. They fought very hard against each other, and the match spilled out into the ringside area into the seats that had held fans and into the dressing room area before it was called a no contest. Hardly the words for the battle, as these were two of the most vicious wrestlers in the area at that time.

The semifinal had Danny Littlebear and the Stomper facing the Japanese team of Chati Yokouchi and Yasu Fuji in a Texas Tag Team Death Match. The only way that a team could win was to render their foe unable to answer a 10-count. Stomper, with his size 15 boots, and Littlebear, with those tremendous Tomahawk Chops, fought a great battle. They were caught in between the martial arts and pure wrestling moves of Yasu Fuji, the youngest of the team, and he took Littlebear to the mat and seemingly squeezed the breath out of him with a nerve hold taught to him by the late Rikidozan.

Fans were just about climbing into the ring and had to be held off by local and state police. Littlebear had that charisma about him that he could control a crowd and cause riots by just waving his hands. That is one of the things that I had to watch out for every time Angus met him in the ring.

The bell rang for the main event, a two out of three fall match with a 60-minute time limit. As Champion, we were given the honor to be escorted to the ring last, and I took every moment I could to psyche Angus up to the point where he would have even turned on me. I did that for a reason so that the one sided referee who was in this event, OLD RABBIT EARS ... Dick Moody … wouldn't have the chance to influence Angus in the least. Angus would keep his eyes on me when he could and not listen to the referee unless I wanted him to.

Omar Atlas entered the ring wearing a bright red jacket with yellow letters on the back so that he could figure out whose coat it was in the dressing room. It was a jacket made for him by a fan that he treasured very much.

Angus and I came in from the opposite side of the building, out of our private dressing room. I was dressed in some of my finest that had me in blue, red and white Dingo boots that I had hand made. Double knit paisley slacks that had a rainbow of colors in them so that I could exchange them with a lot of different jackets. I had a pink silk shirt on, also hand made, and a bright royal blue jacket with an orange tie to compliment the outfit. I was topped off with a Campbell Clan tam that was black and green in color. I carried my briefcase with all my important documents in it also.

We were accompanied by 12 of St. Joe's finest in blue to the ring as fans tried their best to put their hands on me. I was not their favorite person, and I really didn't care. I looked over, and there sat the one-legged promoter, Gust Karras, with a half smile on his face as he thought that he had brought the best there was to the ring to unseat us. He and I had a few words, and I was within reach of his metal cane when he lashed out at me. Fortunately, I was in such great shape that I was able to lunge backward and get out of the way in time. I ran into a policeman that was guarding my back, and he took a swing at me when I moved away from him.

It seemed like nobody was on my side that night. Following the instructions by Moody, the bell rang for the first fall. Omar charged at Black Angus and grabbed a waistlock on him and then tried to take him down with an amateur move. It didn't work, because I had taught Angus the counter move to stay on his feet. After nearly 30 minutes of action, Omar took to the air and dropkicked Angus nine times before throwing him on his shoulders and doing an airplane spin before dropping him to the mat for a three count.

I grabbed Angus by the arm and sat him down in the corner of the ring and threw water on him from a cup I had in the corner. I gave him some words of encouragement and a few thoughtful notes I had made during the first fall, and then the bell rang. I tried to hold off Moody and Atlas from coming to our corner, as it would give Angus the extra time he would need to regroup himself.

Angus had gotten to his feet and charged the unsuspecting Atlas and grabbed him around the waist and began to give him side suplex after side suplex. Finally, he dropped him to a heap on the mat and covered him for the three count. There were only eight minutes left in the time limit for the match.

The final bell rang, and I pulled Angus out of the ring and began to badger him about being out of shape and that he was letting an overgrown midget beat the stuffings out of him. Finally, after slapping him in the face, he took my advice and jumped back into the ring.

They fought and they grabbed onto each other. They made an honest effort to hold onto submission holds as their sweaty bodies made difficult means to do any harm. Finally, as the timekeeper called one minute of time, I looked at the timekeeper and watched as Omar grabbed a full nelson on the powerful Angus. Any normal man would have given up, but I would not let Angus do that. I ran to the timekeeper's table and grabbed the hammer that rings the bell and made it sound off like the bells at Notre Dame. The referee declared the match a draw. It was then that the timekeeper called it to the referee's attention that he had not rang the bell. I caught old Rabbit Ears in a decision that he had to keep. The bout was declared a draw, and we went home with equal amounts of the money for the night.

Omar complained to the referee and also to Gust Karras that he had Angus beat and that he was ready to give up. There was nothing he could do except to get in line for a title shot again in the future.

Percival A. Friend, Retired
The Epitome of Wrestling Managers
2004 CAC Honoree