Boxing In Topeka

Topeka, Kansas ... the Auditorium had been moderately jammed with excited fans. They had come to see Danny Littlebear, the former Central States and Tag Team Champion, try to upset the reign of wins over Black Angus Campbell, with his vociferous manager, Percival A. Friend.

The silly-hatted Friend had done some embarrassing things to Danny the past few weeks, like sneaking out to ringside and causing him to lose some important matches with guys like The Viking, Big “O” Bob Orton Sr. and Harley Race. Danny was fighting mad and had gone to Promoter Gust Karras and demanded that something be done to curb my actions.

In a fit of rage, Danny said, “I sure wish I could put the gloves on again, Mr. Karras … I used to be a Golden Gloves Champion; I would sure show that loudmouthed manager what I could do.” Gust just kind of looked at him and said, "Eh ... Eh ... Danny, just wait a few days and I will … Eh ... Eh ... get the problem resolved.” A couple of days later at my hotel room, a call came from Gust Karras' regional office in St. Joseph, Missouri, demanding that I come there at once. Of course, I was reluctant to go, but Angus came over, and we talked a few moments, and he said maybe it's that Dory Funk Jr. has come out from behind Karras' apron and wants the thrashing he deserves and then you could be the NWA World Champ. I got into my car with Angus and drove to St. Joseph.

Seated in his huge leather chair, Promoter Gust Karras looked across and said, “Eh ... Eh ... You, sir, have been doing … Eh ... Eh ... some bad things at Topeka to Danny Littlebear and … Eh ... Eh ... aren't you ashamed of yourself.”

I said, “Awwww, is little Danny complaining again ... just like him ... Big CRYBABY. DON'T YOU HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO THEN BOTHER ME ... Is that all you called me about, to listen to that? ... I haven't done anything, and you, sir, are wasting my time ... I, Sir, am a Gentleman and would not stoop so low as to be like Danny Yellowbear (the new name I had for Littlebear). If it's a match he wants, just give me the contract, and I will sign it NOW.”

Karras never uttered a word. He quietly shoved a stack of papers my way with a gleam in his eyes and said, “Eh ... Eh … just sign the top line, and Angus … Eh ... Eh ... you sign right below him.” I didn't even look at the contract, and neither did Angus. I was so intensely angered at Danny Yellowbear for being such a CRYBABY.

When the signing was over ... Karras said, “Thank you. You have just … Eh ... Eh ... signed for a Boxing match in the main event at Topeka in a week and a half from today … And, the extra stipulation is that, if Danny wins the match ... Eh ... Eh ... He gets five minutes of wrestling in the ring with you ... Alone ... That will be all for today, sir ... Eh ... Eh ... You may leave.”

I sat in a stupor, trying to figure in my own mind, how that one-legged promoter had somehow gotten to me again. Angus and I left the office quietly. In the parking lot, in front of the office, Angus hauled off and punched me in the arm and said, “Look what you've gotten us into now ... I've never been much of a BOXER ... What will I do if Littlebear gets his big hands on you … what will I do … where will I go?” I said, “Don't worry, I'll think of something.”

I went on the Ron Doole program on KTSB in Topeka, Kansas the day of the card. I called out for support for Danny Yellowbear, as he was going to need all the help he could get. I stated that the only thing that he probably ever boxed was APPLES and BLANKETS outside the reservation on the curbside trying to get enough to get himself a new bottle.

Following the interview, the phone switchboard was completely lit up. The ratings for the Ron Doole show was at an all-time high, and people were mad that the station would let somebody like me on an afternoon program. I left and went and had a great meal.

As we entered the building for the matches, unusual as it was, we had to have the riot squads to get us in. The building was packed to the rafters, and you could cut the excitement with a knife. As we entered the ring for the main event, Angus just looked at me and glared at the red boxing gloves that were tied on his hands and said once again, “Are you sure that you know what your getting us into?” I assured him that everything would be okay.

The first three three-minute rounds were spent with Yellowbear just knocking the Bewailers out of Angus and nearly ending the career of my meal ticket. In the break between the round, I reached into my pocket and placed a roll of quarters in Angus' left hand and said, “Just tap him with these, and everything will be alright.”

Angus came out of the corner, and Yellowbear started in just punching the heck out of him again, and, right out of the blue, Angus threw a haymaker and hit Danny with his left hand, lifting him right out of his moccasins and laying him flat on his face. The ref counted 6-7-8-9-10 and awarded the match to Angus.

Fans were streaming toward the ring, and it was all the police could do to keep them back. I jumped into the ring for safety and grabbed Angus' hand and drove it into the air in a triumphant gesture. The roll of quarters fell out and burst on the mat. The ref, Richard Moody, reversed his decision and awarded the bout to Danny Littlebear, who was prone on the mat and didn't have a clue as to what was going on.

Moody looked at me and had the ring announcer make the message that I was to be in the ring with Danny Littlebear for five minutes wrestling. The fans went crazy ... they were going see me get the snot beat out of me once and for all.

Seeing the opportunity, I yelled, “Ring the bell,” and proceeded to kick a mud hole in Yellowbear. I turned away from him and started to pose to the fans, showing them what a great man I was, and that I could beat Ole Yellowbear any time I wanted. I turned back to Danny, who had flopped onto his back, and drove a few more boots into his chest and then turned my back away from his carcass and started gloating again … a cheer came out of the crowd, and I assumed that it was for me ... NOT ... I turned to give Yellowbear some more of what he had coming to him … There he was, looking me straight in the eyes and he had WHIP YOUR BUTT written all over his face. I tried to reason with him and stuck my hand out to shake his hand and started backtracking around the ring. This brought the crowd into a frenzy, and, suddenly, he got his hands on me and was just getting ready to beat the pulp out of me. Angus charged into the ring and hit him from behind. We proceeded to kick the heck out of him again. Poor Yellowbear … did he ACTUALLY think he would get the best of me?

Gust Karras sent a team of guys to the ring that were allies and friends of Yellowbear, and we got out of there in a hurry. The Battle was over, but the war went on and on.

Percival A. Friend, Retired
The Epitome of Wrestling Managers
2004 CAC Honoree