As I pulled into the parking lot in the rear of the Civic Center in downtown Saginaw, Michigan, I looked over to the area where we parked, and there was a Jade Green Eldorado Cadillac Convertible parked near the light that gave the area some security. I glanced at the plate, and it was from New Jersey and had just the letters BR on it. I was always intrigued by personalized tags for cars. I had AJF 1 on my Lincoln Continental that I had bought a few months ago while in New Mexico.

I wondered who that car could belong to. As I gathered my wrestling gear from the trunk, I slipped my green and white mask on and headed towards the front entrance of the building. I was met by a few diehard fans who knew and respected what was on the marquee...Wrestling!!!

I stopped to sign autographs and to pose for a few pictures. One of the kids asked how I was going to do tonight against Dandy Dan Miller. I assured him that I would do my best and try and beat him with my favorite maneuver, the Cobra Twist. I had met Danny a few times in my early career, and he was one tough cookie. I had always asked myself, how would you like to be the youngest and smallest Miller Brother? That had to have been a challenge in itself.

Big Ed and Big Bill Miller had a reputation of being the top tag team in the Midwest. They had caused more riots than the Gallagher Brothers (Doc and Mike), been in more fights outside the ring then The Tolos Brothers (Chris and John), and certainly won more titles then The Shire Brothers (Ray and Roy).

As I left the crowd that had formed while I was talking and taking pictures, I thought to myself, had Danny Miller gotten any tougher since I battled him before? Did I train enough for this battle? Did I sign an open contract to fight and let the promoter throw me to the wolves? All these questions came into my mind as I entered the dressing room.

Pushing the door aside, I looked over in the corner, and there was a man nearly naked except for a pair of white sweat socks on his feet, quietly playing solitaire on top of his suitcase. I took another glance and hollered, "HI YA DUTCH!" The huge, blond-haired man looked over my way and said "Hell fire, kid, nobody's called me that in years. Who are ya?" (Buddy wrestled under the name Dutch Rhodes when he first started in the business)

I extended my hand and said to him, "I know, and I haven't seen you in years. How are ya, Buddy?" He stood up and kept looking at me and said, "Do I know you, kid?" "Yes," I said, "You should, you helped to train me in Columbus, Ohio a lotta years ago." I pulled up the front of the mask so he could see my face and he hollered, "It's you!! The kid from Flint! How have you been getting along? How is your grandmother? Have the promoters been treating you ok? Are you making any money?"

We chatted for what seemed like a half-hour, talking about everything we could think of. Buddy treated me like a member of his family. He always was a stickler for details and remembered names like looking into a big book. My train of thought was broken by the ring second, who came into the room and informed me that I was on in about five minutes. Where had the time gone? I hurriedly got dressed, and just in time too. I didn't have time to do any warmups. I had hoped that it wouldn't affect my performance in the ring.

Entering the arena, I was greeted by a lot of fans cheering and giving me all the support I could ever want. I climbed thru the ropes and looked across the ring at Danny Miller. He was a lot bigger then I had remembered from before. He had put on about 20 extra pounds and was really bulking up. After the instructions, the bell rang, and I got the wrestling lesson of my life. Danny Miller HAD really been training hard, and I could tell by the way he was tying me up. I looked down, and both my elbows were bleeding, and I had an abrasion on my shoulder blade from getting taught a lesson about wrestling. Hold after counter hold, he kept driving me into the mat. Was he trying to teach me a lesson? You bet he was!

I was never so happy to hear a bell ring as I was that night. We had gone the entire 30 minutes to a draw. I extended my hand to Danny in the ring and he took mine in his and congratulated me and raised my hand along with his in the air. The fans were very happy with the match and so was the promoter. I knew that I had been in a battle, but the war wasn't over.

As I looked back towards the stage area, I saw Buddy Rogers looking out at the ring. I sure hope I didn't let him down tonight. He seemed to have a huge smile on his face as I approached. He turned away and moved towards the dressing room.

I was a pile of sweat as I sat on the bench in the room surrounded by my fellow athletes and trying to catch my breath. I was halfway expecting to get a good ribbing for not beating Danny Miller, but then, not a lot of us in that room could make that statement. He was one tough cookie.

I looked over and noticed that Buddy was just about ready to go out and meet Bobo Brazil in the main event. Buddy had gotten a beautiful green sequined floor length cape out of its velvet bag and put it on. Tying the velvet cord around his neck and straightening the sides of the cape, he looked over at me and smiled. He grabbed a big green comb from his bag, straightened his hair so that every strand was in place, spit out his cigar, turned and threw the comb against the wall, and said, "Good luck, kid---I gotta go and pay a bill."

That was one of the few times that I worked on a card with Buddy and will always cherish the memories he left with me.

Rest in Peace..... CHAMP.

Percival A. Friend, Retired
The Epitome of Wrestling Managers