Mil Mascaras and Johnny Valentine also battled that summer, while Valentine was involved in battles for the Brass Knucks trophy against Wild Bull Curry and Killer Kowalski. Wahoo was summarily defeating various members of the Funk family. Terry was first in town. After Wahoo beat him, Terry’s dad, Dory Funk Sr., had to revenge the loss. Wahoo whipped the patriarch, and was crowned the “King of Wrestling” by Houston fans. If Dory Funk Jr. wanted Wahoo knocked off his throne, he would have to do it personally.
The Houston Wrestling summer season caught the attention of the NWA, which declared Houston, “The Wrestling City of the Seventies,” at their annual convention. Boesch was presented with the award on television by a special Houston Wrestling fan, Congressman George H.W. Bush. Bush stayed the whole evening so he could watch his former Little League baseball player, Wahoo McDaniel, beat Terry Funk in the main event.
The fall season kicked off with the long-expected return match between World Champion Dory Funk Jr. and unofficial “King of Wrestling” Wahoo McDaniel. The World Title showdown ended without a clear winner, so the NWA became involved and ordered a final showdown between Funk Jr. and Wahoo McDaniel. This would be a Texas Death Match with a special referee, Wild Bull Curry.
Dory Funk Jr. remained the champion by taking advantage of the Texas Death Match rules, which meant no disqualifications. The champion pulled every trick in the book, while Wahoo refused to use excuses. Houston Wrestling fans respected his honor. As far as they were concerned, he was still their “King of Wrestling.”
Toru Tanaka, the toughest Japanese star since Duke Keomuka invaded the Houston Wrestling scene, entering the Bayou City in a storm of controversy. He demolished all comers. Fans demanded that Boesch find someone to stop him. Boesch chose Johnny Valentine, who fans agreed was tough, though they did not like the arrogant blonde from Seattle. Yet there are times when a wrestling promoter must match two bad guys, though he would rather have a good-versus-evil showdown. But, occasionally, things work out differently then any promoter, wrestler, or fan can predict. That is exactly what happened that night.
Tanaka was to face Valentine, but Valentine was flying in from the west coast and called to inform Boesch that his flight had been canceled and he would have to take a later one. Nothing hurts a wrestling town more than a substitution, especially one in the main event. Valentine also did not want his reputation tarnished if he didn't show, so Boesch frantically went to work. The intermissions were stretched to give Valentine more time, and Boesch sent one of Houston’s finest in his patrol car to pick up Valentine from the airport. The fans were getting restless, while Boesch stayed in radio contact with his officer friend. The plane had landed and Valentine was in the back of the patrol car, putting on his wrestling tights. He needed more time.
Boesch entered the ring with Toru Tanaka and took the ringside microphone so that he could inform the crowd that Johnny Valentine was on his way. Tanaka grabbed the mike and insisted on being declared the winner because Valentine had run out on his contract. He accused Valentine of being like other American wrestlers, chicken and afraid to wrestle him. As Tanaka continued his verbal assault, the garage door at the north end of the Sam Houston Coliseum opened up and the Houston Police patrol car with blinking lights and siren wailing rushed in. The car came to a screeching halt and the back door flew open. Out stepped Johnny Valentine, in his traditional black robe.
The Houston crowd erupted. It was bedlam. As Valentine made his way to the wrestling ring, he worked the crowd like only he could work it. The fans were in a complete frenzy, and just like that Johnny Valentine went from “bad” guy to one of Houston Wrestling’s most beloved stars. He won the match and the hearts of his new fans that night.
Boesch often used a six hundred pound wrestling bear by the name of Not-So-Gentle Ben to keep fans entertained. Not-So-Gentle Ben’s events sold a lot of tickets, especially if promoted properly. Many times, Boesch set the match up by tricking a “bad guy” or his manager into signing a blank contract, then, much to the delight of fans, he informed the wrestler that he had signed a contract to wrestle the bear. The bad guy jumped up and down screaming, while fans cheered and the cash register chimed.
Once the promoter signed the match, he had to let everybody know that the wrestling bear would be at the Sam Houston Coliseum. He used the television show, arena wrestling program, and personal appearances to publicize the event. In 1970, bear trainer and professional wrestler Nick Adams had booked the bear on the day before the Friday night wrestling matches. The bear was performing at the annual boat show held at the Astrohall. My uncle never passed up an opportunity to sell more wrestling tickets, so he grabbed my father and I after we had closed the ticket office, and the three of us rode to the Astrohall to take advantage of the publicity opportunity.
All went smoothly until Adams suggested to my uncle that maybe I should wrestle the bear before he made his pitch to the nearly eight hundred people in attendance. Boesch thought it was a great idea, and so did my father. Personally, I thought the idea sucked, but nobody asked me. Adams suggested I take my shirt off so it would not get ripped apart by the bear. I was not exactly a happy Assistant to the Promoter at that particular moment, concerned that more than my shirt would be ripped.
While frantically trying to devise a really good excuse to leave, I looked up and saw the bear regarding me as if I were his evening snack. Keep in mind that I was seventeen, stood only five feet eight inches tall, and weighed a whopping 132 pounds (my weight class when I was wrestling my senior year in high school). Although I was a competent amateur wrestler, I really did not like my chances against the bear. I looked to my uncle and my father. Both of them often gave me a stare that I would like to say spoke a thousand words. At that particular moment, however, their stare suggested I should get my butt up there. I again looked at the bear, back to the stern stares of my uncle and my father, and decided that I had a better chance of survival against the bear.
As I reluctantly started up the steps of the wrestling platform where the bear was waiting, Nick Adams grabbed my arm and whispered in my ear that there was a very important secret to wrestling the bear. He asked if I wanted to know the secret. I answered with a panicked, “Hell yes.” I usually do not like to cuss, however at the time the situation warranted a little more than a polite, “Why yes, that would be very nice.”
He whispered, “Pete, the wrestling bear is trained so that if you push him lightly, he will push you back lightly. However, if you shove him hard, he will knock you on your ass.” It was a very good detail to know.
When Adams blew the whistle, Not-So-Gentle Ben and I hooked up in the upright referee’s position. I decided to test “the secret of wrestling the wrestling bear,” and lightly pushed against No-So-Gentle-Ben. Much to my delight and relief, the wrestling bear went backward as if I was strong enough to shove him. Then the bear pushed lightly against me. Being the good sport that I am, I wisely took a few backward steps.
I thought Hey, this is a really cool. Not-So-Gentle Ben and I maneuvered back and forth, mixing in some wrestling moves much to the delight of the people watching the exhibition. After about five minutes of “wrestling,” Nick Adams blew the whistle and Not-So-Gentle Ben swept my legs out from under me with his powerful right paw. I landed on my back and Not-So-Gentle Ben pounced on top of me. The match was over.
My uncle was happy, since he could give his sales pitch to the audience, and convince them to buy tickets and see the wrestling bear in action at the Sam Houston Coliseum on Friday night. Nick Adams was happy because the bear and I put on a good show. Not-So-Gentle Ben was happy because he was sitting on a chair drinking his victory beverage, a family-size bottle of Coca-Cola, as the fans cheered. I was ecstatic because I was still alive, thanks to Nick Adams’s “secret.”
Adams took the microphone from Boesch and, after asking the fans to give me a hand for a well-fought battle, he challenged anybody in the crowd to wrestle his bear. If they lasted more than ten minutes, he would
give them a thousand dollars. Quite a few big men from the crowd headed for the platform, taking off their shirts as the crowd cheered them on. They must have thought that if a runt like me could almost beat the bear, they had a great chance of winning a cool grand. Unfortunately for them, Nick Adams did not explain the “secret.” Boy were they surprised when they shoved the bear with all their might and Not-So-Gentle Ben knocked them on their asses! Nobody collected the prize! I guess wrestling a wrestling bear is like life itself--if you know the “secret,” it is so much easier.
Boesch was a firm believer in giving back to the community, much like the first Houston Wrestling promoter, Morris Sigel. One of the most popular ways Boesch did that was through a campaign he started with a world-renowned heart specialist, Houston’s own Dr. Denton Cooley. Anybody who gave a pint of blood to the blood center received two free Houston Wrestling tickets from Boesch. The Houston Wrestling program of Friday, January 16, 1970 featured pictures of Dr. Cooley and Boesch giving blood. Through the years, thousands of fans must have given blood because of that incentive.
Rounding out the list of newcomers to Houston Wrestling in 1970 were Ken Lusk, Ripper Secuna, Tony Pug, Emil Dupree from France, Spain’s Juan Sebastian, The Big “O” Bob Orton Sr., Ronnie Etchison, Don Drummer, Jack Sanders, Jim Pesek, Jimmy Valiant, and the well-respected George Scott.
Houston Wrestling began 1971 with its own version of the Super Bowl, as Dory Funk Jr. once again defended his World Heavyweight Championship belt against Wahoo McDaniel. It was another Texas Death Match, and in those bouts there has to be an absolute winner. This time there were also two National Wrestling Alliance judges at ringside to settle any disputes or controversies. Fans packed the Sam Houston Coliseum to capacity.
The overall consensus by NWA wrestling promoters and fans across the nation was that Dory Jr. made a great World Champion. Their previous doubts had been erased! He produced action inside the ring, and whatever charisma he may have lacked outside it was made up for by his boisterous brother, Terry, and his father, Dory Funk Sr. Fans loved to hate the Funks singly or together.
Dory Funk Jr. and Wahoo McDaniel had another tremendous battle. Fans claimed it was one of greatest matches they had ever seen! Dory Jr. held onto the belt and Wahoo went back to taking on all challengers.
Texas Heavyweight Champion Johnny Valentine was also going strong, and even forced the masked star Mr. Wrestling to unmask in the ring and reveal his true identity--Tim Woods--before being allowed to fight for the Texas title. Other interesting events that year included the debut of George “The Blimp” Harris as manager of the international tag team of Hungarian Bronko Lubich and Russian Chris Markoff. Fans watched the debut of Gorgeous George II with a critical eye. He wanted to restore the color and excitement of the original Gorgeous George. As hard as he tried, fans were not convinced.
One of the most entertaining moments of 1971 was when Boris Malenko, still barred from Houston Wrestling because of his “loser leave town” match against Wahoo McDaniel, sent a television interview featuring a challenge from a masked “Mr. Houston” to Wahoo McDaniel. The interview was a classic, and it is a shame that all copies have been lost. It started with Malenko being interviewed by Lord Montague. Malenko vowed revenge against Wahoo McDaniel. In his rich British accent, Montague suggested that Malenko get “Mr. Houston.” Soon there was a masked man wearing the same street clothes as Malenko, talking to Montague with a similar rugged voice. “Mr. Houston” demanded a chance to defeat Wahoo in Houston so justice could be done and his friend Malenko could return to the Bayou City. If there was any doubt that “Mr. Houston” was really Malenko, it was eliminated as he shrugged his shoulders, rolled his eyes, looked right into the television camera, and referred to Paul Boesch as “Mr. TV Announcer.” Malenko had done the same for years on Houston television. To cap it all off, “Mr. Houston” walked away, and Malenko reappeared with his hair messed up as if he'd quickly taken off a wrestling mask. It was one of the most entertaining interviews to ever air on the Houston Wrestling television show.
Fans raved about it, demanding that Boesch bring “Mr. Houston” to Houston Wrestling to take on Wahoo McDaniel. Everybody knew it was Malenko, since he and Boesch made every effort to assure that none of the fans would feel they were being mislead. Boesch gave fans what they wanted, and brought “Mr. Houston” back in a Russian chain match with the stipulation that if Wahoo lost, Malenko could return. Fans happily packed the Sam Houston Coliseum one more time, while Malenko, Wahoo, and Boesch happily made big money. There is no limit to what a great imagination could produce in the wild and wacky world of Professional Wrestling!
Wahoo McDaniel and Johnny Valentine also fought as a tag team that year, battling Houston Wrestling bad guys. Boesch returned to the ring to take on Manager George “The Blimp” Harris in a special event that occurred for two important reasons. First, it caught the imagination of Houston Wrestling fans who wanted to see Paul Boesch in the ring again. Second, Boesch was not ready to “bronze” his wrestling boots just yet.
The Houston Wrestling promotion was having great success, and received recognition not only from the wrestling world, but from organizations throughout the area. The City of Houston issued a proclamation honoring Promoter Paul Boesch and the work he and the wrestling promotion had done for the Bayou City through the years. Boesch was selected as “Mr. Sportsman” by the interfaith charities, and was honored at a big banquet and at the halftime of a University of Houston football game at the Astrodome.
That year, Boesch was finally able to bring Mexican movie, television, and wrestling star El Santo to Houston. (El Santo was also Mil Mascaras’ idol). When El Santo came to Houston, he drew hardcore Mexican wrestling fans, and the promotion made sure there were plenty of bilingual ticket sellers. It was always fun to watch the arena erupt into chants of “Mexico! Mexico! Mexico!” as thousands of fans and generations of families waved Mexican flags and cheered their old country idols on to victory.
But there was also tragic news that year. Houston Wrestling favorite Al Torres, the youngest of the famous Torres brothers, was killed in a wrestling match in Sioux City, Iowa. His opponent came off the top rope and accidentally crushed his chest. Torres was taken to the hospital, where he died a few hours later. It was a sobering reminder of how hazardous the wrestling business could be. Wrestlers put themselves in danger every night, whether in the ring or due to extensive travel, especially by automobile. Their courage should always be recognized and appreciated.
Other wrestlers who saw action in the Houston Wrestling ring for the first time that year included Klondike Bill, Johnny Walker, Jack Bence, Eli Kashey, Gary Fulton, Bob Ramstead, Bobby Shane, Buddy Wolfe, Mexican star Ray Mendoza, Bob Burns, George Hultz, Luke Brown, and popular Dean Ho of Hawaii.
Houston Wrestling traditionally began the new year with a World Title match. 1972 was no exception. Ernie Ladd challenged Dory Funk Jr. for the World Heavyweight Championship. This tradition was honored because it was easier to book the World Champion from the National Wrestling Alliance during the first week of each year, and because Houston Wrestling shut down for the two weeks around Christmas. This period, when the business went dark, made it extremely important to have a blockbusting card signed and be selling tickets to the next big event. If wrestling fans got out of the Friday night habit, they might not come back. Regardless, it was always a great promotional strategy to start the new year with something special, and World Champion Dory Funk Jr. was somebody really special.
Mexican star Jose Lothario was rising to the top of Texas wrestling. He won both the Texas Heavyweight Championship belt and the Texas Brass Knucks Championship belt. These championships made him the number one contender for Dory Funk Jr.’s World Title. When Lothario got his shot at Dory Funk Jr., he won the match on a disqualification, so Funk Jr. retained the title. Lothario was enraged and stole Dory Funk Jr.’s cherished West Texas State University letter jacket, which Dory had proudly worn into the ring before the match.
Lothario would not give it back, which set up a personal feud between him and the Funk family.
The Funks abandoned their ongoing battle with Wahoo McDaniel to launch one with Lothario. Terry Funk tried to beat Lothario for the prized jacket and failed. This meant Dory Funk Jr. had to return to Houston and whip Lothario himself. Lothario's two championship belts and feud with the Funks elevated him to the top of the Texas mat wars, a position that he maintained throughout the seventies.
High-flying Red Bastien made a sensational debut to Houston Wrestling that year, and proved his national ranking to Boesch and the fans. Bastien found himself in the thick of the main event battles, and had two opportunities to take on Dory Funk Jr. for the World Title. Crusher Stan Staziak returned to Houston Wrestling and packed a powerful “heart punch.” He cracked the main event scene, causing havoc in the ring. El Gran Goliat, the national champion of Mexico, came to Houston to challenge other great Mexican stars like Jose Lothario and Mil Mascaras.
Ron Pritchard, who played linebacker for the Houston Oilers at that time, was a big hit in his Houston Wrestling debut. However, football season was starting, so Pritchard had to temporarily hang up his wrestling tights and put on the football pads. Another debut that year featured Tiger Conway Jr., a second generation wrestler and son of proud dad Tiger Conway Sr. Houston Wrestling fans fell in love with the handsome athlete just like they had grown to love his dad.
When Wrestling Was Rasslin' Page 12