Tag Teams!

Many GREAT Tag Teams have entered the squared circle in the past 75 years. Teams like Wilbur Snyder & Pepper Gomez ... The Crusher & Dick The Bruiser ... Jack & Jerry Brisco ... Pat O'Connor & Bob Geigel ... Terry & Dory Funk Jr. ... Rufus R. Jones & Omar Atlas ... Black Angus & Roger Kirby ... Bill & Danny Miller ... Dr. Jerry & Eddie Graham ... The Kangaroos ... The Stomper & Ben Justice ... The Hell's Angels ... The Killer Bees ... The Fabulous Rougeau Brothers ... Magnificent Maurice & Johnny Barend ... The Freebirds ... Ric Flair & Arn Anderson ... The Fargos ... and the list could go on and on.

Wild Red Berry, manager extraordinaire ... Captain Lou Albano ... Bobby Heenan … Jimmy Hart ... J.C. Dykes … Dr. Ken Ramey ... General Homer O'Dell … Percival A. Friend … and this list could go on and on … are synonymous with teams that have not only excelled beyond expectations but have their names branded for eternity in the Big Book of Championship Managers.

Black Angus & Roger Kirby had brought the North American Tag Team Championship Belts to a newer height in the Midwest wrestling arenas. We had beaten many formidable tag challengers. Among the teams that had come to Waterloo, Iowa and left their mark were The Big O (Bob Orton Sr.) & The Viking ... Danny Littlebear & Steve Bolus ... Pat O'Connor & Bob Geigel ... Terry Martin & Frankie Diamond ... Omar Atlas & "Big" Rufus R. Jones, just to name a few.

Of course, there were many that complained to Promoter Gust Karras about my constant interruptions at ringside and being the cause of their losing to my finely tuned wrestling machines. I had been called into the office of Mr. Karras at Des Moines and was quietly puffing on a huge cigar and minding my own business when the door suddenly flew open and out came Rufus and Omar. I could see that they were in no mood to even say hello or be polite. I darned near bit off the end of the cigar and suddenly FROZE. I extended my hand in a measure of good faith, being the gentleman that I am. Rufus stuck out his right index finger and poked it into my chest, saying, "You NO GOOD WEASEL ... We have you right where we want you now," and both suddenly left the room.

Gust Karras stood in the doorway and said, "Eh ... Eh ... Come in." As I entered his room, the carpet was so thick I nearly tripped. As I sat down on the huge leather couch with the gold initials NWA on its cushion, I felt very uneasy about my not having Angus or Kirby with me. They had gone on a shopping spree and were to pick me up later, as we were on our way to Milwaukee to defend our belts. Kirby and Angus had been the Tag Champions for about a year now and had made me a lot of money just in booking and management fees of 20%.

"Well, Mr. Karras, what can you do for me today?" I said; he replied, "Eh ... Eh … You have been interfering too much as of late and causing too many good teams in my area to lose. You have to give a title shot to … Eh ... Eh … Rufus and Omar in two weeks at Waterloo, or else!"

Trying to outguess Gust Karras was something I had been trying to do since arriving in the Midwest, to further guide careers. You never knew what he had up his sleeve. I knew what he had up his pant leg … a wooden add-on to his amputated lower leg. I said to Gust, "Or else WHAT?" "You will be asked … Eh … Eh … to give up your title belts!" I said, "Omar and Rufus, even though they were a good team, had not had any non-title victories over my boys and they needed to stay in the back of the line for a while longer. I guess they are some of your favorites, aren't they?" Karras nodded his head and said, "You would be rewarded with a big check for yourself for giving them a shot at the titles." Of course, GREED was my alter ego; I jumped to my feet.

In a way, I felt sorry for Rufus & Omar because we outclassed and outwrestled them, and we had the belts to prove it. "That's all there is to it ... just a shot?" I asked. "Just sign on the line," he said as he pushed a pad of about 25 sheets of typewritten contracts in front of me. I felt very much at ease now, since mine was a better team. How could we lose? How could we go wrong?

"Thank you, Mr. Friend, you will be happy to know that you just signed for a 4 & 1/2 man tag team match."

I said to him, "That 's a mean thing to do to Omar Atlas, the 5'7" OUTGROWN MIDGET, calling him a 1/2 man." Karras quietly put the papers in his safe and turned to me and said, "No Sir … You are the 1/2 man, and I can't wait till Rufus or Omar gets his hands on you."

The match was made, and the biggest crowd in the history of Waterloo, Iowa was yet to come … Would it be my demise … or had Karras made the wrong decision, to trick me into a match as a wrestler?

To Be Continued...

Percival A. Friend, Retired
The Epitome of Wrestling Managers