Historische Wrestling Stories/Artikel

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Minneapolis Tribune
Minneapolis, Minnesota
30 September 1934

Sports fans of Minneapolis, especially wreslting enthuslasts, perhaps never heard of a wresling promoter named Al Haft of Columbus, yet he is one of the most successful in the bussiness.
Haft cannot compete for important matches with such noted promoters as Jack Curley of New York, Paul Bowser of Boston, Tom Packs of St. Louis, Lou Daro of Los Angeles, Al Schuler of San Francisco and Tony Stecher of Minneapolis, but he has amassed a comfortable fortune by staging matches in all of the largest cities of Ohio, especially in Columbus, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Dayton, Toledo, Akron and Lima where his shows draw well.
Columbus sports writers tell me Haft is worth around $250,000 and owns one of the finest homes in this city.

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Victoria (BC) Times
Victoria, British Columbia
24 November 1966

Mighty Chief Thunderbird Dies; Gained Fame as Wrestling King

Chief Thunderbird, one of the most famous of British Columbia's native sons, is dead.
Jean Baptiste Paul, who gained world-wide fame as Chief Thunderbird, died Wednesday in St. Joseph's Hospital. He was 71.

Hereditary chief of the Tsartlip Indians at Brentwood, "The Chief" gained his greatest fame as a professional wrestler but was outstanding in several sports.

Right up until he was hospitalized two weeks ago, Chief Thunderbird was a familiar figure as various district sporting events, particularly soccer and football.

Just as he stood out in the wrestling ring, "Bapti Paul" was easily recognized as a sports fan because of his booming, gravel voice. A staunch supporter of Island teams, he was quick to berate referees for anything he considered a poor call. His booming tirades were laced with a wit that entertained everybody.

A proud individual, The Chief was always proudest of the fame that he brought to his native B.C. while wrestling in all corners of the world.

Chief Thunderbird, grandson of noted chief Ben Paul, gained world-wide fame early. Attending the Tacoma Indian School in Washington, he won letters in eight sports — an amazing feat that was described in the Strange as it Seems feature.

He also put together a string of 20 boxing victories — nine by knockouts — in his youth, and rang up 30 consecutive wrestling victories after his pro debut in Seattle.
Even at school, The Chief was so adept at wrestling that he had no difficulty in beating his instructors.

He is survived by his wife, Julia; three sons — Harvey Andrew (Jack), Roy and Carl; three daughters — Mrs. Gordon (Juanita) Underwood, Mrs. Maurice (Jeanette) Barrett and Mrs. John (Freda) Cooper; a brother, Paul; his sister, Mrs. Elsie Roney, and 29 grandchildren.
Prayers will be offered in Sands' "Memorial Chapel of Chimes" Friday at 8 p.m. Mass will be held in Our Lady of the Assumption Church, West Saanich Road, Saturday at 10 a.m.

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St. Joseph News-Press
St. Joseph, Missouri
9 May 2007

Former wrestler, sheriff dies at 83

The imposing figure took pride in being a tough guy.

Sonny Myers, a burly local wrestler and former Buchanan County sheriff, died Monday at age 83. Mr. Myers led a diversified life as a carnival brawler, title wrestler, traveling amusement show owner, car dealer, and Wal-Mart greeter.

The lifelong St. Joseph resident started on the killing floor of Swift's packinghouse. One day in 1943, St. Joseph wrestling promoter Gust Karras approached the 6 foot, 2 inch strapping man at the YMCA and proposed a wrestling career. Throughout the next 40 years he became known for moves like the headlock, drop-kick, and his trademark clincher move - the sleeper hold.

"Everybody wanted to see him put the sleeper hold on guys," former News-Press sports editor Bill Scott said. "He came up behind and grabbed 'em. I don't know if he actually put them to sleep, but the crowd thought so."

Mr. Myers became tag-team heros with wrestler Larry Hamilton on Friday and Saturday nights.

Any kid growing up in St. Joseph in the 1950s and 1960s remembers Mr. Myers as a childhood hero, said Pat Conway. The 59-year-old's favorite memory was Mr. Myers matched against the bleached blond bad guy "Rip Hawk."

"He'd get on his knees and cry, and the crowd would be screaming, but the good guy (Mr. Myers) would not hit him," Mr. Conway said.

Wrestler Harley Race climbed through the ropes of the squared circle and grappled with Mr. Myers more than a few times.

"Sonny was probably the best of the best when it came to the clean side of wrestling," Mr. Race said.

Bob Slater, News-Press managing editor at the time, remembers the two-term Buchanan County sheriff's unforgettable handshake and imposing presence. During his two terms in the 1970s, Mr. Myers followed his own rules, which sometimes landed him in hot water with politicians, he said.

One Saturday night, he busted into long-tolerated illegal cockfighting in southern Buchanan County and arrested 35 people.

"The magistrate court was overflowing Monday morning," Mr. Slater said. "Sonny was not one of the good ole boys."

He would later train young wrestlers, including World Wrestling legend Hulk Hogan, wife Elaine Myers said. He died Monday following a two-month illness - an old man unbeaten by life, she says.

"He didn't realize his own strength, even to the end," Mrs. Myers said. "He died a gentle giant."

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The Daily Northwestern
Oshkosh, Wisconsin
2 Februar 1905

Cleveland, O., Feb. 2. – Tom Jenkins has made up his mind that wrestling does not pay. "I am thinking of retiring," he said. "The fact that the public has been, swindled so often by fixed wrestling bouts that where formerly there were dollars in the game there are only pennies now. A wrestler has to work hard all the time, much harder than pugilists, and his compensation is much smaller. I am convinced that this is unfair, and I am going to quit the game.”


Info: Tom Jenkins hat 3 Tage vor seinem Match gegen Frank Gotch 1905 an einen Ruecktritt gedacht?!?! Jenkins trat erst 1908 zurueck, und auch wenn Jenkins damals (1905) wahrscheinlich garnicht an einen Ruecktritt dachte, so ist es schon sehr interessant das drei Tage vor dem Match mit Gotch ein Artikel herausgebracht wurde, indem ueber ein Retirement von Tom Jenkins gesprochen wird, und das auch noch in Zusammenhang mit “Fixed“ aka worked Wrestling Matches.

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Los Angeles Times
Los Angeles, California
24 June 1974

Haystacks is no needle; he'd better keep a pitchfork handy

Haystacks Calhoun, a 6-4 Wrestler who weighs 600 pounds and wears a size 12 eeeee shoes, recently got a letter from his first wife, who divorced him and remarried.

"she wrote me saying her husband's a hell's angel and in the pen for armed robbery," said haystacks, "and that she was gonna get me --soon's he's outta jail."

is he afraid?

"wa-a-l," he said. "let me put it this way. ah'm too big to hide. 'n too fat to run. so 'ah only one chance. to satnd and fight."

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Los Angeles Times
Los Angeles, California
16 December 1934

Stooge' Charges Londos Failed to Pay His Salary

Until certain details are settled out of court it will be unnecessary for Jim Londos, champion wrestler, to come to court and defend himself against a charge he hired Pete Ladjimi, another wrestler, to "build him up for the championship".
All according to the record in superior court where an indefinite continuance in the trial has been granted

Ladjimi is suing for $30,800 claiming Londos hired him at $600 a week to wrestle prospective Londos opponents to see if they "had anything on the ball" so Londos would select as opponents only those he felt certain he could beat, this "building him up for the championship".
Londos has denied this.

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Toronto Globe & Mail
Toronto, Ontario
28 Maerz 1974

funeral services will beheld at the ingram funeral home, 2114 queen st e, tomorrow (friday, march 30th) at 2 p.m. for mrs evelyn watson, wife of professional wrestler pat flanagan. mrs. watson died in toronto east general hospital wednesday night following a three year fight with cancer.

her husband wrestled professionally in mant parts of the world including england, australia, the united states, and canada. he is now a referee on the ontario circuit.
the watsons lived in balmy beach.

in addition to her husband, mrs. watson leaves two sons, warren and dennis.

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Atlanta Constitution & Journal
Atlanta, Georgia
11 July 1976

Will Calhoun's toe injury knock him out for good?

guilford, conn (ap) -- broken ribs, a busted nose, injured knees and ankles. haystack calhoun says he has known the pain of them all in 20 years of professional wrestling.

the amiable giant accepts the injuries as part of the nightly pounding of large body against large body.

and he says he's ready for the consequences of his latest setback, an infected toe that could sideline him for two weeks, if he's lucky, or end his career, if he's not.

"why worry," he asks. "if it's going to be it's going to be. worry wouln't change anything."

calhoun says the injury was a fluke, "one of those goofy things that happen."

he says he was 'rassling' in atlanta in an 18 man, every-man-for-himself "battle royal." as usual, he was barefoot.

the match ended only after 17 men were tossed over the top rope and out of the ring. calhoun, whose strategy is "to hide in the middle of the ring," was left inside.

but as he was leaving the roing, he cut the underside of the fourth toe on his right foot and it became infected, he says. the infection spread to the bone and a doctor at yale-new haven hospital told him he might have to lose the toe, he adds. calhoun says the doctor also told him he might lose the leg if the toe went untreated. a hospital spokesman confirmed calhoun was treated for a toe infection.

the bearded wrestler whoe advertised 601 pounds made his master of the ominous-sounding and deadly-looking "big splash", had been bouned out of action by a few ounces of damaged meat and bone.

this week he left his base of operations at a guilford motel for his mother's home in tucumcari, n. mex., where his family doctor will treat him, says his mother, mittie white.

"if the toe comes off, i''ll be back. if that's not it and it's the leg i figure i won't be around long anyway," says calhoun.

"i'd become an invalid with my size and one leg. and i'm not going to become an invalid and have somebody take care of me," he says. "rather than be an invalid i'd just rather go and check out."
if the doctor tells him the leg must be amputated, calhoun says he'll refuse. but he doesn't think that will happen.

the 40-year-old perennial good guy and favorite of the crowds says he already misses the matches he'll have to cancel in several cities.

"i may be from the old school, but i believe i have a certain obligation to the fans. they (promoters) advertised me in these towns already and people will come to see me. and i won't be there," he says.

calhoun, who says wrestling every night some weeks, talks confidently of his return and plans an active schedule. "i'll want to go every night as much as possible to get back in condition," he says.

it shouldn't be tough fro him to get matches.

"i could work eight nights a week if i anted," thanks to promoters who are pleased with his poularity with the fans," he says.

"in this business a person has to evaluate himself. the people have to either love you or hate you. you make up your own mind if you want ot be a dirty wrestler or a clean wrestler."

calhoun says wrestling has treated him well financially.

"there's no hospitaliztion or insurance plan for a 'rassler'. i have to pay for this operation out of my own pocket. i won't be a charity case," he says.

despite the constant travel and physical abuse of his profession, the man born in texas as william d. calhoun says he loves it.

"i've been an athlete most of my life even though i was big. after all these years of wrestling i can still say i enjoy it," he says.

"at first, it's a very rough life, a very hard life. but as you get used to it and you establish places you stay and you get back to those places, you have friends. that makes it enjoyable."

the guilford motel "is just where i keep my clothes," a quiet, convenient jumping-off point for matches in the northern and eastern parts of the country.

calhoun, twice divorced, has a 14-year-old daughter living with his mother. but wrestling amid the glare of arena lights and the frantic screams of fans is his life.

"i still have another 10 good years provided i can stay healthy. of course, the older you get the harder it is to get over injuries," he says.

his career has never been threatened by injuries and he is optimistic about his latest problem, he says.

"they might get me down, but they can't keep me down. you have to have a certain amount of ruggedness to get in this business."

but he says he won't wrestle barefoot again.

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Wall Street Journal
New York City, New York
28 May 1971

The Rasslers

classy freddie blassie, a villian turned hero, bites, growls, prospers

he, others insist the 'sport' is real, but many say no; either way, it's popular

kiss for the fan from the soul man

by hal lancaster, staff reporter for the wall street journal

los angeles -- the mob has been building outside for more than an hour, and when the creaking double doors open the building seems to explode. nearly 10,000 faithful sprint for their seats, engulfing rickety old olympic auditorium for a night of professional wrestling. it is a spectacle part carny, part acrobatics, part abnormal psychology.

on a given night, aficionados may see a match held in a cage (to foil escape by a terrifed villian), a 22 man, survival-of-the-fittest battle royal, or midgets and women grapplers. they are certain to see pulled punches, feigned falls, and masked heavies. and they are certain to cheer their lungs out at the appearance of 240 pound classy freddie blassie. he is at least 43, he is thickening around his glossy bronzed middle, those silky strands of blond hair are bleached, and the voice is ground glass. but he is the hero.

it is this way every friday night here, and on other nights at other arenas around the country where the freddie balssies turn on the faithful. they come in swarms. professional wrestling, long since excommunicated from the realm of popular sport and ignored by the press, survives and flourishes desoite this lack of recognition.

from villian to hero

it grosses at least $25 million at the gate for more than 400 promoters nationwide, and the take is growing yearly, according to sam muchnick, president of the national wrestling alliance. it generates an unknown but sizable amount of tv revenue from weekly telecasts that clog the airwaves in most major cities. it's a safe bet that few southampton swells are tuned in, and no one has ever spotted a rockefeller crowding ringside, but in the nether realm of sport that is wrestling, the freddie balssies don't need the four hundred.

mr. blassie, who has been wrestling for a living for at least 25 years, has the skill and the moves of long practice. slamming iinto the ring post, tumbling out of the ring, whirling savagely to hurl his man into the ropes, he makes the fans believe it's all real even when they know it's not.

until recently, he played the villian with convincing malice. no trick was too dirty -- biting, eye gouging, all the traditional nasties. (his specialty has long been forehead gnawing; with white teeth supposedly filed razor sharp, he grasps his fear-stricken foe in a headlock and gorily chews his way across the victim's hairline.) the fans hooted and hissed when he derided his opponent -- "pencil neck geek! ya got a neck like a stack of dimes!" -- and cheered when he took his lumps.

but in the past year he has become a darling of the crowd. he was even named 'los angeles wrestler of the year'. "it all started when i jumped in and helped out a couple of latin wrestlers who were getting beat pretty bad in a tag team match," recalls mr. blassie. there is no surer road to favor in los angeles. mexican-american wrestlers are idolized by the largely latin crowd at the olympic, and villians constantly malign them in order to hype emotion -- and the gate. "i'm tired of the chili-pickers coming up here all the time and taking opur money back to mexico to buy more chili and tacos!" stormed the evil bull ramos (the apache renegade) on ocal tv one night.

bad investment

villian or hero, it's all right with mr. blassie either way. he still takes a six-figure annual salary home to his modern five-bedroom beach house in santa monica, where he lives with his third wife, miyako, whom he met and married while on tour in japan. sound investments in stocks and real estate have left him well off.

"my worst investment," he declares, "was my second wife. i'd make $1,000, and she'd spend $2,000." but mr. blassie confesses he isn't a frugal man himself. "i used to buy two pink cadillacs every year," he says.

all in all, it has been a lot of neckbreakers (mr. blassie's favorite hold) since he made his wrestling debut before a hometown crowd in st. louis in 1943. he got 50 cents. like many young, impressionable athletes, he blew the whole wad (on bus fare) and promptly ran up heavy debts with the promoter ($5). "i had to wrestle 10 times for that guy to pay it back," he sighs.

now he wrestles 100 to 200 times a year all over the world, though the olympic is home. he often has wrestled every night of the week and several times a day. it isn't unusual for a wrestler here to perform on a televised show in los angeles, hop into a car with his hated opponent, and do it all over again the same day in san bernidino, 60 miles away.

an honest match

(it was on such a drive, one former wrestler confides, that he had his only legitimate match. he and his opponent, driving north from des moines, got into a squabble over who would emerge victorious in waterloo that night. the only to settle it, they decided, was to stop the car and go at each other for real right there in a farmer's field. they did, but it was indecisive, so they decided to wrestle for real that night in waterloo. but alas, says this ex-pro, the match was rained out so he never did fight an honest match in public.)

a typical two-week tour for mr. blassie would include, on consecutive nights, ventura, calif., baltimore, los angels, washington, atlanta, new york, a rest on sunday, then san jose, columbus, ga., honolulu, portland, ore., edminton, cincinnati, and toronto.

besides the rugged travel schedule that makes a normal family life impossible, the wrestlers compplain about injuries. they are mostly unintentional, but hwne a 250 pound monster lifts you over his head and hurls you to the mat, you are apt to get hurt at times.

mr. blassie's momentos, he says, include a dozen broken ribs, a fractured skull and brain concussion, two broken elbows, a broken wrist, several broken fingers, four fused thoracic vertebratae, and fading eye vision in one eye -- this last, he claims, due to iodine alledgedly thrown into his eye during a match by the weasel, manager of the hated sheik. (a similar trick recently forced mr. blassie into a hospital and cost him, so the stroy goes, the use of the eye.)

it is the injuries that wrestlers cite when closely questioned about the legitimacy of the sport. "i've broken nearly every bone in my body," wrestler-cum-actor mike mazurki maintains. "if that was all faked, i took a lot of punishment for nothing." mr. mazurki will admit some "exaggeration", but that's all. there is, in fact, a conspiracy of monsterous proportions to covince doubters of the essential honesty of the game. "i've been approached, but i just want to do my best and be the best," mr. blassie swears angelically.

it is a typical remark. promotoers swear they never put on a prearranged match. mevertheless, there are these mysterious meetings of the wrestlers before every olympic show. earl (mr. universe) maynard arrived late one evening and was told the meeting was in progress. he asked which meeting. the doorman glanced at the stranger hovering nearby and whispered, THE meeting."

fake, says official

the california state athletic commission is unimpressed by claims of legitimacy. the commission's los angels an, joey olmos, maintains that the matches are prearranged, and state rules governing wrestling refer to it as "an exhibition...in which the participating wrestlers are not required to use their best efforts in order to win and for which the winner may have been selected before the preformace commences."

newspapers are likewise unconvinced, generally limiting coverage to a listing of results, and that just to avoid thousands of phone calls from wrestling zealots. most newspapers don't even send a reporter to the matches, although the new york times sends a news clerk "in case of a riot."

the promoters couldn't care less. "newspapermen wear big halos, and wrstling's a perfect whipping boy," mr. muchnick snaps. the promoter's tears lead a path all the way to the bank. for instance, in st. louis, where the national wrestling alliance champ, dory funk jr., does most of his wrestling, mr. muchnick, the promoter, averages a $25,000 gross 16 times a year.

in nw york's madison square garden, where such as bulldog brower reign, promoter vince mc mahon often attracts 20,000 fans and pullsin an average gross of about $80,000 per monthly show. in detroit, home of the sheik, mighty igor, and the stomper, an average of 9,500 fans produce a gross of about $30,000 every other week. eddie graham, a wrestler-turned-promoter who now is reportedly a millionaire, draws 5,000 every time he opens the doors in florida, north or south carolina, puerto rico, and the bahamas, and occasionally he gets 15,000 inside florida's gator bowl in jacksonville.

will the fans die off?

this boom is generally attributed to television and such performers as gorgeous george, the human orchid, who died in 1963 after a colorful career as wrestling's most famous dandy. it was in the 50s, during the reign of george and his fabulous platinum blond coiffure, that wrestling's television ratings zoomed as high as 40% of the viewing audience. they still rate high enough to please used car dealers everywhere, a prime sopurce of sponsorship.

the only dark cloud, according to olympic promoter mike labell, is the consistency of it all. even though mr. muchnick reports steadily increasing attendance throughout the country, mr lebell bemoans the samenes of the olympic's figures--$1.2 million gross and $400,000 to $700,000 net, year-in, year-out. "it means the same people are coming all the time," he explains , "and pretty soon, they're going to die out."

on a recent friday night, however, there are no signs of impending doom, and by the time mr. blassie appears, the near-capacity crowd (9,559 fans for a $31,085 gross) has bathed the arena in near hysteria. mr. blassie is adorned in baby blue, from his brief, spangled bolero jacket to his trunks to his kee pads to his shoes. around his waist is the america's belt, a championship, like most in the wrestling game, concocted by a promoter.

he glares and growls at his opponent, the massive massa saito, who is accompanied by his cusin, the villianous kenji shibuya. (mr. blassie had greeted both men warmly in the dressing room earlier.) the crowd responds with appropriate cheers and boos, and a few well-hurled objects. the ring announcer gently chides them, much as one would a kindergarten class. "that one person who is trowing things is going to ruin the fun for everyone, " he scolds.

i love it baby

the crowd responds again, hooting and waving. the fans are half the show. some, like alberta ledesma, come, cushion-in-hand, seeking relaxation in the midst of chaos. "i usulaly sleep through a couple matches," she says. most, however, like josephine tyler, are true believers. "i love it, baby," she chants. "sock it to 'em. it's all for real, and i holler till i get hoarse. the wrestlers all know me i won a $25 bet when rocky (soul man)johnson kissed me, right on this spot."

some, like stella aguilera, believe, but not totally. stella follows the wrestlers all over southern california. "i'll see a guy one night and he's bleeding like mad, and the enxt night, i won't see any scars," she says. others come because the olympic is a way of life. manny garcia is there five nights a week, for boxing, wrestling, and the roller derby. he knows he shouldn't believe, but once the action begins he is swept away and leaps to his feet, exhorting.

wrestlers are keenly aware of the fact that these crowds can turn ugly quickly. "these are different people, different people," says a police officer on duty, shaking his head. "jeez, they're emotional," wrestlers are likely to find anything from hatpins to butcher knives stuck in them by irate fans. mr blassie, who says he has been stabbed 10 times, recalls finding a knife in his calf during a match in one tank town. he calmly returned to the dressing room, found no doctor, pulled out the knife, poured iodine on the wound and left. "guys like to get rid of their pent-up emotions," he says, shrugging it off. "some guy who's 5'4" like to scream at the big guys,"

doctors disagree on whether this scene is healthy. pyschologist dr. edward j stainbrook, for one, thinks not. "doctors used to have the catharsis idea, that is, you'd watch this violence, and you would be washed out, satiated," he expalins.. "nowadays, it's generally believed that the more aggression you see, the more violent you are likely to be."

of these dangers, however, the crowd knows nothing. all they care about is that freddie blassie is in trouble, tripped by the devious kenji shibuya and pinned by the gleeful massa siato. this evens the match at one fall apiece. mr. blassie is on the brink of defeat for the umpteenth time.

but wait. he furiously musses his hair, a signal the fans all know: he is ready for the kill. they scream. he races into the ropes and springs off at the terrified mr. saito. they shriek. freddie knocks his foe to the floor and flops on him for the decisive pin. the fans are estatic. as mr. blassie leaved the ring in a triumphant, chest-swlled strut, he sneers and spits at mr. shibuya's feet. bedlam.

freddie showers quickly and and slips away from the mob of young kids who, he chuckles, used to stone him. that has all changed, but ironically, mr. blassie now chooses to shun crowds anyway. his wife, he says, wants him to quit entirely. "her fondest wish is to see me hang up my trunks," he notes. that seems unlikely, for the blond vampire obviously relishes his vocation.

the crowd, with some gentle prodding from the ushers and the realization that freddie is gone, now begins to disperse. and as the dank, dimly lit arena begins to empty, an usher snorts in disgust: "those people will believe anything."

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Detroit News
Detroit, Michigan
3 June 1971

dick the bruiser coming back

dick the bruiser is perched menacingly on the top strand of the ring ropes, then crashes down across a helpless foe's adams apple with his knee. bruiser mauls his opponent, adding a few supplemental heel stomps after being declared the winner.

then the victorious strut out of the ring, down the aisle toward the dressing room, the bruiser bellowing epithets at a hostile crowd of enraged kids throwing paper cups and little old ladies poking with umbrellas.

well get ready, the bruiser is on his way back to detroit to wrestle again, as mean and tough as ever.

"yeah, i'm looking forward to detroit," the bruiser, nee rihard afflis, growled over the phone yesterday afternoon from his home in indianapolis, his guttural rasp still intact. "i'll be there in a couple months to sign some contracts with olympia stadium for this fall. i'm a main event all over the world, and i'm booked up unitl then."

the bruiser hasn't been seen in these parts since a match with detroit lion alex karras at olympia in april 1963. the reason he hasn't appeared is that the night before the bout a better fight broke out between bruiser and karras at the lindell ac, a downtown bar then called the lindell bar before it moved to its present location.

in the scuffle two detroit policemen andrew meholic and james carolan were injured. meholic broke his right wrist and carolan suffered a shcok to his nervous system.

they filed damage suits in federal court totalling a reported $70,000. the last settlement was made last saturday. since the bruiser would have his purses attached had he wrestled here, prior to the settlement, he continued to make his $200,000 yearly outside of detroit in such places as japan, england, denver, and indianapolis.

bruiser remembers the figth at the lindell well.

"thye (the police) tried to put manacles on me after the fight broke out," he recalled. "i was trying to get at karras, and some people were knocking on my head with pool cues. there were eight or nine police, i think.

"anyway, i finally settled both lawsuits, and i can come back."

little has changed for the bruiser since then, except he's eight years older at 30.

"i'm better now than i was," ne growled. "i weigh about 255." someone reported once that bruiser trained on a case of beer a day.

"i used to," bruiser snorted, then continued with a low, hearty laugh. "now i drink a bottle of rum a day. it makes your belly smaller, heh, heh."

bruiser, who played pro football for green bay, started wrestling in 1954 in san francisco, and since the start has been one of the top attractions in wrestling --always as the bad guy.

he doesn't deny for the moment that showmanship is the biggest part of his success. but he won't say it is all a fake, either.

"heel, if i just went out and grabbed one hold on a guy and pinned him in a minute, well, that wouldn't be much of a show," he says. "when it comes to the bruiser, i can tell you i haven't lost more than five matches in my life.

"all i can verify is what i've done in wrestling. sure, there's a lot of showmanship. if you can win and appeal to the crowd, you're going to make a lot of money.

"television is the backbone of wrestling."

bruiser has always gone where the money is, and he makes around $200,000 a year. when he used to wrestle at olympia before the lawsuits, he regularly packed the stadium. with at least a 10 percent guarantee of the net, it kept him in tailor-made suits and long cigars.

"i'm flying every day now," he said. " i wrestle thre or four times a week. i do my own bookings. hell, i'm a college graduate so i ought to be able to take care of my own money."

although the bruiser hasn't changed his style any, he says that the age of the anti-hero has made him popular and less hated than he used to be.

"this is the era where the bad guy is a hero," he chuckled. "everywhere i go, people love me. the tougher i am, the nicer they think i am. it doesn't make any differnce to me.

"i've never made anybody mad at me. i've always followed my own nose, and that's the way it worked out."

there are two inaccuracies in this story:

1- the brawl at the lindell took place four days (on tuesday) before his match with karras, not the night before.

2- the bruiser wrestled again for barnett and doyle on 5-18-63, losing to nwa champion lou thesz, on 6-29-63 teaming with lord athol layton to defeat fritz von erich and the masked terror (jay york), on 7-3-63 (at the flar rock speedway) defeated the sheik, on 7-20-63 in a draw against the masked terror and his manager, tony angelo, on 8-31 teaming with doug gilbert to defeat fritz von erich and the masked terror by disqualification, on 9-28-63 defeating lord athol layton when layton suffereded a hand injury and could not continue.

he then returned in 1965 with his wwa promotion. on 2-6-65 defeated pat o'connor, on 4-24-65 defeated yukon moose cholak, on 5-8-65 teamed with gene kinski in a loss to wilbur snyder and pat o'connor, on 5-22-65 teamed with angelo poffo to defeated wilbur snyder and pat o'connor

[Nefercheperur]

Detroit News
Detroit, Michigan
29 Maerz 1972

lucille dupree says she's detroit's champ

"i take my work very seriously!"

"when i go to work, i'm dressed up. i wear a top hat, tails, bow tie, and dickey over a white bathing suit."

so spke lucille dupree, lady wrestler from detroit, who believes she is the city's best.

"i figure if somebody beats me, they must have tricked me in some way."

the years of dislocated hips, water on the knee, broken arms, and an occasional smashed nose are over, she says.

'i've been wrestling for 10 years and have it down to a science." there days there are only a fes sprains, bruises, and torn ligaments.

lucille comes from a french speaking community in rhode island, got her start in boston where she hoped to make the roller derby. "i got into wrestling by accident -- just helping somebody out in the arena where i used to skate."

"i trained for a couple of months, but i really leaned everything in the ring -- you might say from experience."

"it was a hard way to learn."

lucille was the new england women's champion for six years. two years ago a promoter lured her to detroit. she's often seen at cobo and on local television and sometimes travels to sports arenas around the country and in canada.

twice she wrestled in japan for four months, and hopes to go back.

"did you know that the japanese are a superior race? those japanese girls are fantastic when it comes to wrestling, there's no one in the world like them!"

lucille tries boxing once but "didn't like it too much." two years ago at coobo she fought mary jane mull.

"she was using her fists to beat me at wrestling. i got mad and grabbed the microphone and publicly challenged her to a boxing match.

"a week later we put the gloves on. i think i won, but the way we boxed it was hard to tell."

if lucille has one ambition, it's to beat the "fabulous moolah" who holds the women's world title in wrestling.

"i've had tag team matches with her, but i want a title bout. i think maybe i could take her."

moolah, lucille charges, has stayed on the top for 20 years bcause "she fights dirty. she knows all the little tricks -- just when to do something really nasty. every time i try to slip something like that in, the referee cathes me."

sneaking in the little nasties, lucille said, is grounds for a fine. too many fines brig a ring suspension.

"good wrestling is all strategy. you've got to out-think your opponent, think a couple of holds ahead. the key is cocentration. you've got to put the fans and the noise and the ballho out of your mind. and just keep concentrating.

like you've got to be scientific about it."

"i guess my best hold is the drop kick, although im good with the sleeper, jackknife, or reverse slam. i'm small and fast. that's what puts me over."

lucille stands 5 foot 2 inches tall and weighs 126 1/2 pounds with a shape that any woman could envy.

'i don't like that brawny look. you can get that from lifting weights, and i don't lift weights."

instead she goes through calisthenics and isometrics twice a day., three sets at a session, a routine that totals two to three hours of ecercise daily.

no white bread or potatoes. lots of liver, steaks, and fruits, plus liver pills and vitamin c.

wrestling pays well, lucille says, but its a arlife fo a woman, and because of the traveling, no good at all for a married woman.

still, she wishes the girls going itno the sport today would work harder at it. "they're too interested in meeting they guys or they want to get famous too quick."

"they don't take their work seriuosly."

[Nefercheperur]

Los Angeles Times
Los Angeles, California
13 May 1971

Injured Blassie told to retire by doctor

veteran wrestler freddie balssie suffered serious eye damage in his match with john tolos friday night at the olympic auditorium and will be out of action for several months according to dr. bernhart schwartz, state athletic commiiission physician.

"it is problematic how long he will be out," said dr. schwartz wednesday. "the injury takes several months to heal. i recommended that he retire, but i doubt that he will."

blassie, who was discharged from south hoover hospital wednesday, suffered the injury when styptic powder, described by dr. schwartz as "very irritating, causing corneal burn" was allegedly rubbed into his left eye.

[Nefercheperur]

Tampa Tribune
Tampa, Florida
14 Februar 1973

king dory, queen bonnie rule

king rex farrior jr. and queen wynnette howell were not the only royalty crowned in tampa lasted night.

concurrent, very nearly, with the coronation of ye mystic krewe of gasparilla at the curtis hixon hall, a mile west under somewhat different circumstances but before a far more enthusiastic assemblage of subjects, another king and queen were assuming thrones.

they were king dory of the house of funk and bonniw queen bonnie of the house of watson. their court was the mystic world of professional wrestling.

though king dory funk jr. and queen bonie watson came by their titles at fort hesterly armory somewhat differently than the new rulers of gasparilla, they too are supreme in their special domain and doubtless held in comparable adulation by their followers.

and it must be acknowledged that while king rex and queen wynnette ascended to their thrones amid satin and lace and the smell of perfume, king dory and queen bonnie fought their way to theirs in a world of sweat and grimace and threats of doom.

the hesterly coronoation ceremonies were preceded by two ealry jousts matching muscular cavaliers performing in preliminaries before the standing room only crowd. blue-trunked bob bruggers, a former miami dolphin football player, rather quickly disposed of black-trunked, goateed and tatooed phil robley who was no favorite with the crowd, they gesturing back at him when he'd leer at them after their boos. he even earned an isolated bird or two.

next in an interesting match-up, a curly-haired, handsome jewish wrestler in red trunks named mark lewin finally gave skin-headed geran hans schmidt the just-due the crwod thought he deserved. schmidt wore black pants with boots, and aggrogantly defied, to no avail of course, referee corsica gene's decision favoring lewin, often the victim of low germanic blos, corsica had indicated.

now it was time for the selection of the quuen, to be decided in combat between the reigning monarch, bonnie queen bonnie watson, a poular ruler, and challenger kay noble, a spry contestant who wore a leopard-skin one piece bathing suit type and and who also quickly fell into disfavor the the crowd. she was in frequent shouting matches with ringsiders, including one off-duty cop.

there were moments when queen bonnie, a longtime tampa resident, seemed to be in terrible jeopardy of losing the florida women's wrestling title, particularly when kay had her by the throat, but showing regal cunning and resolution, the champ prevailed after flinging noble over the top ring-rope and onto the floor below where she landed in a most ignoble position -- on her keester.

the courtly chaplain held her robe

corsica gene gave the match and the crown (in wrestling, however, it is a belt) to quen bonnie and the courtly american legion chaplain at ringside returned kay noble her lounging robe he had held for her during the ceremony.

three more competitions of especial interest followed before the coronation's highpoint, one of them a surprise.

in the first, a young prince of the people, mike graham, son of eddie, after some anxious moments, handled unpopular chris markoff, the shouter of the evening. markoff would ohhhhhhhhhh, quite loudly, when graham would force it from him with a stragle-hold, arm-bend, or some other similar inducement and the crowd would immediately echo him. indeed, at times they ohhhhhhhh-ed along with markoff in disgust.

next southern champ buddy colt, regarded as an unsavory too, clung to his title by working over popular young oklahoman jerry brisco when the people thought the ref was inattentive. colt is a barrel-chested, acrobatic sort who also waers the black well. he has an absolutely menacing scowl, with accompanying bad-eye. his win was soundly jeered, a circumstance which, in truth, seemed to please the calloused colt.

george was a beaut

perhaps the disappoinment of the coronation night to the aptrons came when big bad john and tim woods, their favorites, fell victim to more trickery missed by referee stu schwatz, the people thought. perhaps their dismay was doubled because of the nature of the winning team which was composed of blond, mustched bobby shane, regarded by the mutitutes as an unsavory sort, and gorgeous george jr. george wore peroxide blond curls fresh from curlers and those in a hairnet, two blue ribbons (which the chaplain also kept during the contest) and lace on his red boots.

gorgeous was just that. the crowd made many reccommendations to him during the fight, particularly when he assumed as especialy dainty aire, non of which hw followed. it was perhaps the most unpopular decision of the night, and it set the secene properly for the combat to decide who'd be the world heavyweight wrestling champion, as well as winner of the premier event of the gasparilla wrestling spectacular -- in short, who'd be the king.

dory funk jr. entered as the champ-king, popular dark-haired part-cherokee jack brisco the challenger. funk is out of amarillo and has held the title for four years. he's a fine athlete, solid american, former west texas state football player and popular most places.

brisco was twice national wrestling champ when at oklahoma state, then turned to the pro circuit and had lived in tampa four years. brother jerry had wrestled before him tuesday night, and lost to heavy buddy colt.

clearly the crowd was for brisco, and for the first 15 minutes of clutching and body-slams, leg-twisting, arm-ulling and neck chopping, even a bit of undetected hair-pulling, brisco had the first fall and was on his way to a staggering upset. it had been this time four years ago, and here, that funk had won the world championship and first crowned king. it was tense, amd loud, and high drama to the subjects of that intriguing world.

but, after 8 minutes of the second go, funk seemed to regain strength from some hidden supply -- though in ruth he surely seemed barely to be hanging on at times -- and with a mighty thrust upwards of both feet hurled brisco (as the doomed kay noble had gone) over the top ring rope, northside. he plunged downward onto the concrete and lay still.

just before the time limit count of 20 from ref stu schwatrz, brsico managed to haul mimself partly back onto the mat where funk flung his 240 pounds onto him for a pin and the second fall.

only three minutes rest are allowed between falls.

jack's concerned brother rushed out of the wings and implored the ref to give his kin more time to revive, for he lay there quite still. young brisco even tried, it seemed, to drag the limp body of jack out of the ring to safety.

but before he could become his brother's keeper, funk, himself seemingly dazed by punishment of the falling here and there, was tearing at the lifeless brisco, the crowd meanwhile screaming in unison: "go jack go! go jack go!"

jack responded to to their call momentarily, but it was not to be. funk disposed of him for a second fall rather quickly and it was at that moment, about the time king rex was ascending to another throne of importance at curtis hixon, that referee schwatrz hoisted the weary arm of the winner heavenward.

the other coronation was now completed too.

king dory had joined his queen, bonnie, as rulers of their somewhat mystic kingdom, thier subjects departing every bit as gratified by the evening as the crowd at curtis hixon.

one fellow said he'd bet even more. but then he's never experienced the joys and delights of a gasparilla ball and coronation