May 25, 1972

While it might not be the best Thursday night in wrestling history in Kansas City, it will be remembered as one that put Black Angus on the lips of many fans.

We had been the subject of many conversations by fans as to who was going to meet Dory Funk Jr. while he was in the territory for a week. Some fans thought that Danny Littlebear would be the best suited for him. Others thought The Stomper would be the best. Some even said that little Omar Atlas, the overgrown midget, would give the champ his best bout.

Heart of America Sports gave Dory Funk to Rufus R. Jones for that's night's Main Event. I was beside myself when Bill Kersten announced on the previous card that Rufus was the one selected. I argued with Kersten in the ring shortly after the announcement was made that Rufus was as likely as an opponent as Mertie and Gertie would be. Fans didn't care for my one sided comments concerning the ability of Black Angus and that he should be the one doing the honors. After all, we had beaten Rufus on more than one night.

At any rate, the one-legged promoter, Gust Karras, would not budge on his decision, and I ended up leaving the ring without a smile on my face.

The night began by having Benny Rameriz facing Omar Atlas in the opener. Neither man gained a fall in the 20-minute match that left fans standing in the aisles shaking their fists for more out of these men from South America. Benny was the former masked man known as "The Mummy." He terrorized fans and opponents with the bizarre effects he used while under the hood so much that many people suffered near heart attacks when he walked the walk to the ring to do battle.

Just how great was this night’s card ... the next match on it was a Ladies Title match between Betty Niccoli, the champ, and Jean Antone, the 127-pounder from Louisiana. The match has a 30-minute time limit on it, but Jean ended up getting counted out of the ring when she missed a flying tackle that would have put any NFL linebacker on his backside. Betty barely squeaked out of the match with her belt and made a hasty retreat back to the dressing room.

Roger "Nature Boy" Kirby, the former World's Junior Heavyweight Champ, was next on the card and handed Billy Howard a fast defeat in just a little over five minutes. Billy had just come in from Milwaukee and had impressed fans with his fast paced style.

Referee Frankie Diamond stuck his head into my dressing room door and said that we are next, and the bell has already rang. I informed him that the world revolves at my pace and that I didn't need some kid from Florida trying to tell me what to do. I was dressed in my finest with a bright canary yellow jacket with a green silk shirt and red slacks with a multicolored tie. I had topped off the ensemble with a green and black Campbell plaid tam.

As the doors opened to the arena, I stepped into a chorus of boos and catcalls, and even a few of the more deft ones took swings at me while I made my way to ringside. Of course, the regular front row people would try and get me excited beyond my own controls. Mertie and Gertie would try and hit me with umbrellas and purses that always seemed to have heavy weights in them. Others would try and imitate me by wearing horn rimmed glasses and ugly imitations of Scottish Tams on their heads.

I took my seat next to ringside with my back to the fans. They were within reach of me, but few dared to try it with the personal policeman I had guarding me. He wore a size 66 coat and rode a three wheeled Harley Davidson all year long on the Kansas City, Kansas force. I set my case down and took my glasses off and proceeded to give Terry Martin what for from my chair.

Terry tried to ignore me and keep his eyes on the much larger Black Angus, who was nearly 60 pounds heavier that day at the weigh-in. The bell rang, and Terry came right out of his corner and drop kicked Angus over the top rope. I sprang to my feet and rushed to Angus to console him and give him the courage to put that move to bed with a counter that I should have given him in the pre-bout warm-ups we went thru in our dressing room.

Climbing back in the ring at the 17-count, Angus made it a task for Terry to do any more high flying aerial attacks on him. He grabbed body parts and proceeded to wear this youngster from Minot, North Dakota down with powerful moves. As the 10-minute mark was called by the timekeeper and announcer Bill Kersten, I asked Angus to come outside and confer with me for a minute. It was then that Terry tried to get cute with us and grabbed a handful of Angus's hair and a handful of mine and slammed our heads together, much to the delight of the fans behind us.

Angus recovered better than me and went back into the ring with blood in his eyes. He grabbed Terry in a series of suplexes and then, in a final effort, threw the helpless Martin out over the top rope near me. Fearing I would be hit, I jumped up and went around him. Angus, in the meantime had turned the referee, Frank Diamond, so his back was to me. Terry Martin had made it to the ring apron when I jumped in behind him and slammed his head into the corner post. He fell to the arena floor and lay there in a rumpled mess. He was busted open from eyebrow to eyebrow and covered in blood. I was set down again and felt hands being pulled away from my shoulders when the referee turned and began to count Terry out. In 20 seconds, I rose from my chair and joined the victor Angus in the ring to celebrate.

Our celebration was not long lived as the dressing room emptied out and all the good guys that were watching the match hit the ring to get rid of us. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out when you have guys the size of Rufus, Stomper, Yellowbear, Geigel and O'Connor hitting the ring ... It's time to leave. We fought our way back to the dressing room and locked the doors behind us.

To be continued ....

Percival A. Friend, Retired
The Epitome of Wrestling Managers