Liberal, Kansas Part Two

Traveling to Liberal on that Tuesday night was an easy job for me. Angus kept me very busy answering questions about the Old West. It is a subject that I was well versed on at the time. I always pride myself on being able to learn at least five new things every day.

I began my day in Liberal at the local library and speaking to any of the old timers that hadn't seen me on television. I must have spent at least three hours reading book after book on Kansas history.

One old timer that I spoke with didn't realize who I was until Angus came in the door looking for me. I had left a message at the front desk letting them know where I would be for the morning.

This man I had been speaking with finally put two and two together and came out with five and figured out that I was the most hated manager in the wrestling business. He began to berate me with an onslaught of words only used by drill sergeants in a basic training facility.

We ended our chat by me reaching out my hand in friendship to this old timer and him spitting in my palm. He then told me that he would be at ringside tonight and give me more of what I had coming. He then told me that he had 25 friends coming that would help him out.

I spent the rest of the day relaxing at the pool, getting ready for the evening and the drive to Great Bend, Kansas for the next evening. At 6:30, we left the hotel and went to the high school where the evening’s matches would be held.

The opening match had Ronnie Etchison facing Benji Rameriz from Mexico City. That match went the entire 20 minutes and ended in a draw. Terry Martin faced Juan Sebastian in the second match, and Terry was given a huge big swing and a body press by Juan, who won the match.

As I was standing near the stage curtain, I was bumped into, unannounced, by Bob Geigel. He had one of those scowls on his face that told you that he was unhappy with the loss he had the night before at the hands of Yasu Fuji. I had spoken to Fuji for nearly 10 minutes prior to the match and pointed out a multitude of flaws in the armor of Bob Geigel.

I even gave him a few signals from the stage area of the Century II Auditorium. Geigel tried then to get a hold of me, but I am much too quick for an old freight train like him.

Geigel reached out for me but was pushed off by Bob Orton, who came out of the curtained area near where I was standing. Geigel changed his mind when he saw that he was outnumbered and went to the ring to do his battling there.

I shook Bob Orton's hand and then accompanied him to the ring, much to the dislike of many fans. I told Orton just to listen to the few things I had to say about Geigel's armor plating and the cracks within it. Orton was not born yesterday and said that I was welcome in his corner anytime I wanted to be there.

The bell rang, and it was like Pearl Harbor exploding with the velocity of Geigel venting his anger at me on Orton. I grabbed his foot as he came by my side of the ring and kind of half tripped him and caused him to break his focus on the match. That is when Orton took over and began a 10-minute beating that would have sent the ordinary man to the hospital.

Orton finally ended the match with a piledriver and a body press. I was kind of glad to see the match end, but I knew the war wouldn't be over between these two warriors.

Following a short intermission, Danny Littlebear and the Stomper went to the ring to face Yasu Fuji and Chati Yokouchi in a Texas Tornado tag match. It was 20 minutes of the most hard fought match that I had ever witnessed. All four men were bleeding from scars being opened on their foreheads. The match finally had to be ended by the dressing rooms being emptied out to separate the teams and get them back to their dressing rooms.

I was resplendent in a beautiful pink jacket with royal blue slacks a yellow shirt and a bright green silk tie, topped off with my red, white and blue Dingo boots with the steel toes in them. The fans were not happy to see me again and began throwing pop cups and popcorn boxes, some full, at me. I am glad that they had the floor covered with a huge tarp, as it would have been pretty messy.

Angus followed closely behind me, wearing the gold Central States Heavyweight belt around his ample waist. We were to face Omar Atlas, who had won a tournament two nights earlier In Topeka. I told the matchmaker and Gust Karras that he couldn't have been the one to win, as there were no other midgets in the tournament.

The three-fall championship match began by Omar dropkicking Angus over the top rope onto the gym floor. As I looked around to see where the security was, I suddenly realized that Barney Fife was in charge, and he was on coffee break with the other guy.

As Angus rose to his feet, he felt the arm of a fan grabbing his arm. He turned and reversed the hold and had the guy screaming out in pain from the arm nearly being broken. As I ran towards the area, I had to fend off another fan that tried to put his foot out to trip me.

He was not a happy camper when I kicked him in the shins and nearly broke skin. He grabbed at his leg and hobbled away. By then, order was restored, and I heard Barney Fife call for some backup to help him out.

Omar had jumped out and chased me back to the dressing rooms and went back to the ring, where he was met by a very angry Angus, who took him in several one handed suplexes and then side salto moved him into a pitting spot after 15 minutes into the match.

Omar was almost not able to answer the bell and wanted more time to regain his composure. Angus had other ideas and began to body slam him. On the fifth slam, Omar grabbed him into a small package and pinned him 1-2-3.

I returned to the ring with two lawmen watching my back and comforted Angus, who was mad about the schoolboy move that caused him to lose the fall. As I turned to someone screaming at me, I was face to face with the old timer and his crew of at least 25 friends that had come to the matches to give me a hard way to go.

The bell rang, and Omar charged out of his corner and grabbed Angus and rolled him into another small package near where I was. I took my trusty briefcase with all the important documents in it and hit him right between the running lights. The referee, Frank Diamond, had no other alternative than to disqualify Angus for my actions. I jumped into the ring, and we began to kick the starch out of the man from Venezuela.

As we left the ring , fans were throwing anything that wasn't bolted to the floor at us. I was happy to leave Liberal, where the people were not so "LIBERAL" to us.

Percival A. Friend, Retired
The Epitome of Wrestling Managers

2003 BWC Hall of Fame Inductee
2004 CAC Hall of Fame Inductee
2006 LWA Hall of Fame Inductee