Tag Teams Part Two

When I last left you, I had been hoodwinked, tricked and deceived by Promoter Gust Karras. He had the uncanny ability to make people do things that they did not want to.

Now, I was faced with the match of my life ... a 4 & 1/2-man tag team. I had to get into the gym and get ready. I had to get down on the mat and get ready. I had to get my thinking cap on and outwit that old one-legged promoter. I couldn't let him make a mockery of me; after all, I am the Epitome of wrestling managers; I have to live up to my name.

Waterloo, Iowa was a wrestling town. They loved their "heroes." They wanted to see justice prevail on every wrestling card and leave with a smile on their face. I was going to change that in less than two weeks.

When I got back to the limo and told Angus and Kirby what had happened, they wanted to go back and tear that office apart. Angus said, "Karras has no right to treat you like a second class citizen; after all, sir, you are a gentleman."

Kirby said, "Don't worry, Mr. Friend (he always had respect for me), we will make sure that Omar Atlas and Rufus R. Jones never put their hands on you."

We continued on to Milwaukee that night. I sat in the back of the limo and tried to set the image in my mind; what were the weaknesses of Rufus and Omar? I would start out in the morning when we get back to Kansas City.

The next morning, I sat in the gym, watching some of the guys press weights, others doing calisthenics, and some just helping others out. I tried to concentrate, but I was not into it. Angus motioned for me to go over to the ring that was set up. We got in and started to warm up, and Angus started to bear down on me and was, in fact, trying to get my spirits up. "Don't let that Karras keep you down. Me and Kirby will win the match for you," Angus said. I finally got into the spirit of the battle and started showing Angus why I was the master and he was the student.

Waterloo was packed to the rafters, the largest audience ever for ANY event in the fairground's coliseum. We had trouble getting the limo into our parking area. People just didn't want to move. I had to call the police on the car phone and get an escort into the building.

I watched Harley Race and Danny Littlebear go at it in the semi-main event and wondered how in the world anyone could top that. Race was disqualified for using a Heart Punch, which at the time was outlawed in Iowa. He and Littlebear were both covered with blood.

The bell rang for the Main Event. Angus, Kirby and I started out towards the ring. In front of us about 100 feet away were Omar and Rufus, gloating to the crowd and basking in the applause and accolades. It was a typical reaction for them to react to fans and not to their surroundings.

Suddenly, I broke into a run and charged Omar's back with a chair in my hand. I struck him in the back and leveled him. Rufus turned to see what the trouble was, but he was too late. Angus and Kirby were doing a number on him. They brought out a stretcher and carried Omar back to the dressing room. Now, the odds were in my favor. The battle proceeded to the ring where the officials could calm it down.

Vengeance is mine, sayeth Percival A. Friend. I was in the ring, confident that I had done away with little Omar. As the ring announcer gave the intros, a cheer came up from the back by the dressing room. The ringside doctor, who had followed the stretcher and was headed to the ring with his eyes focused on me, had revived Omar. What was I going to do now?

The people were demanding that Omar and I start the match, but Kirby had other ideas. He was a consummate athlete, a graduate of Notre Dame, and a perfect pal to me. He wouldn't let me in the ring. He started, and after about 25 minutes of tugging and tearing on each other, Kirby had Omar down on the mat and near passing out. I screamed out, "Knock him out Roggggg!" Kinda like the late Jerry Clower. Roger tagged me in, and the crowd went nuts. I proceeded to kick the daylights out of Omar and pose to the crowd. I had the best physical body in the ring (?) and was showing it off.

As I turned to give him some more, Omar was up, and he grabbed me and threw me onto his shoulders and started his famous Airplane Spin. Around and around we went, and suddenly, as quickly as it started, Omar tags in Big Rufus and dumps me on the mat in a pile. The top of the building almost came off when Rufus got into the ring. He picks me up off the mat and shoves his big index finger into my chest again and says, "Now I got you right where I want you, you little WEASEL!"

It was then that Big Angus couldn't stand any more of people beating on his mentor.

He entered the ring, pushed Rufus away from me and literally threw me over into our corner. I tagged Roger in, and he and Angus beat the heck out of Rufus. I was sure that he was totally out of it, and I wanted to put the coup de gras on Rufus. I wanted to be the one to pin him. "Angus!" I hollered, "Angus, let me in!" He came to me and tagged me in, and I covered Rufus. A hush went out over the entire building as the ref counted one ... two ... and Rufus kicked out, nearly throwing me 10 feet in the air. He tagged in Omar, who grabbed me in that Airplane Spin again. I felt the mat slam against my back and never heard the ref counting one ... two ... three on my shoulders.

As I lay in the middle of the ring, fans were jumping up and down in joy; they were at the point of riot, they were so happy. I burst their bubble, though. Harley Race, who had been in the match before us, charged the ring, still covered in his and Danny Littlebear's blood, and the three of them (Angus, Kirby and Harley) went ballistic on Omar and Rufus and left them badly broken up in the middle of the ring. What a smile I had on my face when Angus carried me back to our dressing room on his shoulders.

Omar and Rufus may have won the battle, but I won the war...

Percival A. Friend, Retired
The Epitome of Wrestling Managers