This week's column is dedicated to the memory of Fred Blassman. He was a friend to many in our business and a father figure to a lot of the people from my era (63-76).

Many great stories have been written about the "Hollywood Fashion Plate" during his great lifetime. He exemplified the word "FAMOUS" with every breath his body took in and expelled. His actions in the ring will never be duplicated by anybody else.

I first met Freddie in Los Angeles in 1963 during the first bicycle of the United States that Buddy Rogers sent me on. I started in Detroit and went to Indianapolis, then to Kansas City and Amarillo. I then wrestled in Phoenix and Tucson before going to Los Angeles and doing television tapings there at KTLA.

I had the opportunity to wrestle against Fred a couple of times on the program that was doing four hours of tapings. The first time was as the Green Hornet and the second was as B.Q. Rowan. I lost both matches with the master and was proud that I was in the ring with him.

Fred was the kind of guy that when you went into the ring with him, he actually tried you out. He would see if you had an amateur background or if you were just a piece of meat that he could chomp down on to further enhance his reputation.

I was fortunate to be a pretty decent amateur in my earlier years and gave him a good battle. Fred showed everybody, including me, why he was the better man. He grabbed me in a swinging neckbreaker, which loosened up every vertebra in my back and left me partially frozen in time while the referee counted to three. He would then pick me up off the mat and raise my hand to the fans and then begin to kick the stuffing out of me and try and gnaw through the mask I was wearing trying to draw blood.

Later in my career when I began to be associated with Big Time Wrestling in Detroit, Fred would make trips to the beautiful air-conditioned Cobo Arena in Detroit. He always asked matchmaker Jack Cain to have me pick him up at the airport because he liked me and liked the style I had in and out of the ring.

Fred was the kind of guy that could read you like a book. He had been in the business for almost 30 years when I first met him. He was not the kind of guy to stay in the ring any longer than he had to, and that is why he could read opponents so well.

The night before he was to leave for New York, he flew into Detroit to wrestle Mil Mascaras. This would have been a main event at the Olympia in Los Angeles, but it was an opening event at the Cobo. He wanted it that way so he could grab a flight at 10 p.m. back to Los Angeles and begin the 3000 mile drive to New York the next day.

Fred became one of the most hated yet well loved men in the WWWF and the WWF and the WWE. He told it like it was and commanded every moment that he was in front of the fans and the camera. Fred loved the business, and it loved him back every day. He had the respect of every superstar that came through the dressing rooms and into a ring. He also did a lot of work with the Salvation Army and also worked with Special Olympics in the New England area.

Ronnie Etchison related one funny story to me a long time ago. It was in the late 50's, and they were wrestling in Calgary for Stu Hart. They had left Calgary and were on their way to Regina, Saskatchewan. It was snowing pretty hard, but Ronnie kept driving about 70 miles per hour in his late model Packard. They had a long drive ahead of them, and Fred was sitting in the back seat of the car cleaning a shotgun he carried with him back then.

Fred accidentally pressed the trigger, and both barrels went off, blowing a huge hole in the roof of Ronnie's car. They stopped to survey the damage and stuffed a blanket in the hole until they could get to Regina, about 200 miles away. They had a patch welded on the roof and went on to Saskatoon the next day. None of the four guys in the car could hear for about two weeks after.

Fred told Ronnie that he was very sorry for the damage but that it was not his fault. He claimed that there were NO shells in the chamber when he was cleaning it. He said the devil put them in there. They both laughed about it until Ronnie gave him the repair bill for the damaged roof.

Fred Blassie passed away on June 2, 2003 at age 85 and will be forever remembered as one of the best the business had to offer. He was an icon that will never be duplicated and will always be remembered for his smile and the phrase "You Pencil Necked Geeks".

To his wife and family, I send my sincerest of sympathies … Rest in Peace, Classy Freddie Blassie.

Percival A. Friend, Retired
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