Death of the Territories

by Tim Hornbaker

  Slaughter was hugely popular — big business for the WWF — and his jump to the AWA was remarkable during a time of war. It only made sense for the AWA to use Slaughter as their top attraction going into northeastern cities, not only for solo shows, but for Pro Wrestling USA programs as well. On February 24, 1985, he single-handedly won a tag team battle royal at the Meadowlands in New Jersey, and four months later, Slaughter captured the Americas championship, a patriotic honor created with him in mind from Larry Zbyszko.238 The AWA booked a weeklong tour of New Jersey and New York in March 1985, and Pro Wrestling USA ran the Meadowlands five more times that year. But even shows featuring Slaughter, the NWA and AWA world champions, the Road Warriors, the Koloffs, Jerry Lawler, and other superstars didn’t guarantee sellouts.

  Mid-South’s Bill Watts agreed in principle with the union behind Pro Wrestling USA, but it was an unruly mess behind the scenes, and he kept his distance.239 He was doing pretty well for himself as it was, and his promotion enjoyed a brief two-month run on WTBS between March and May 1985, achieving the highest ratings for any wrestling show on the station. Watts also discussed a partnership with Ted Turner, to take over the WWF’s timeslots and create an even larger national footprint. However, Vince McMahon’s deal with JCP negated that plan. Watts held no ill will, though, and touted NWA wrestling during his last episode on May 26. From April to November, Watts worked with the NWA and AWA, bringing world champion Ric Flair to his territory a dozen times, in addition to Sgt. Slaughter and Road Warriors.

  Mid-South still had a competitive lineup. Ted DiBiase, Jim Duggan, and Jake Roberts were at the top of their game, and Watts produced many hot angles for his two syndicated programs, Mid-South Wrestling and Power Pro Wrestling. DiBiase, a second-generation grappler, matched well against Duggan, and the two locked up all over the region in early 1985. Mid-South’s top singles title, the North American belt, passed from Brad Armstrong to DiBiase and then to Terry Taylor in March. In the tag team ranks, DiBiase formed a memorable partnership with a three-year veteran of the pro mat, “Dr. Death” Steve Williams. A protégé of Watts, Williams was a dual-sport athlete from the University of Oklahoma, with All-American status in wrestling and football. On May 3, 1985, DiBiase and Williams dethroned speedsters Robert Gibson and Ricky Morton, better known as the Rock and Roll Express.

  Before long, the Express and Taylor departed Mid-South for Crockett. Already having lost Junkyard Dog to the WWF, Watts was well acquainted with the movement of grapplers during a period of heavy competition. “The WWF is trying to steal my talent,” he told the Shreveport Times in 1985, “and I’m trying to steal talent out of Atlanta or somewhere else. In other words, if a guy’s a good wrestler, we all want him. We’re competing with the others for the services of the top talent.”240 Watts was a realist and wasn’t shy to borrow tactics that he saw working elsewhere. The WWF had popular music in its telecasts, and a music video created in Memphis had done a lot to prop up the Fabulous Ones. Mid-South followed suit, and in 1984–85, Watts broadcast videos using well-known songs for Magnum T.A., the Rock and Roll Express, and the Fantastics.

  Jim Duggan, a favorite in Wattsland, got in on the action as well, doing a country music gig with singer John Anderson at a venue in Tulsa in February 1985. “The profile of the wrestling public and the country music public is very similar,” explained Jim Ross, the director of marketing for Mid-South, to the Tulsa World. “If you asked someone five or 10 years ago to give you a description of a person who liked country music, they probably would have said a male, 25 to 54 years old, a blue-collar worker in a middle to low income group. Those demographics were exactly the same for wrestling fans then. Now, the profile of the country music fan has changed. The audience got a little younger, thanks to people like Alabama, Exile, and Hank Williams Jr., whose main audiences are from 18 to 34. Now, we’re looking at the very same growth in wrestling.”241 The country music and wrestling pairing was seen in several major promotions the following year.

  Juggling the turnover of talent was sometimes exhausting, but Watts kept his momentum. He replaced his losses and pushed the right guys at the right time. Butch Reed, Dutch Mantell, Hercules Hernandez, and the Guerreros were Mid-South regulars, and Bill Dundee’s booking kept things fresh. One of the literally hottest angles had Duggan in front of a fireball thrown by manager Skandor Akbar, putting the hero out of commission for weeks. The tensions increased after an inconclusive bout between Duggan and Kamala at the Superdome on June 1 and dominated the summer. Outgunned by Akbar’s minions, Duggan received the support of Watts himself, who came out of retirement to even the odds. The Nightmare, a 6-foot-4, 275-pound masked man (known outside of the ring as Randy Colley) wore the North American belt between the reigns of Taylor and Dick Murdoch, and was managed first by Eddie Gilbert and then by Oliver Humperdink. Previously, Colley had used the gimmick “Moondog Rex” in Memphis and the WWF.

  Dipping into the celebrity well, Watts imported the famed Muhammad Ali, coming off his appearance at WrestleMania, for the June 1, 1985, Superdome extravaganza. Ali acted as a second for the Snowman in his match against Jake Roberts, and delivered a timely punch that cost Jake the bout. In the war against the WWF, Mid-South was facing an invasion in Oklahoma City and Houston, but was far out ahead, drawing 7,000-plus compared to the WWF’s 1,500. In some cases, McMahon was luring less than 1,000 people and, when possible, Watts ran head to head to further diminish turnout for his opponents. Watts called 1985 a “difficult year” in an article with the Shreveport Times, and cited McMahon’s attempts to “monopolize wrestling.” “[McMahon was] helping to add saturation to television,” Watts explained. “The people in Shreveport can now watch probably 12 hours a week. It’s just like football. It’s getting to be much harder to entice them with a live gate.”242 Despite losing WTBS, and failing to land a valuable cable spot on ESPN, Mid-South was in a “constant growth pattern,” and TV ratings were outstanding. There was a huge opportunity to follow the WWF and World Class further into syndication, and seriously consider expansion.

  Ron Fuller, head of the Southeast territory, was exploring the same thing. With a loyal bunch of wrestlers, an entertaining TV product, and the backing of fans in Alabama and Florida, Fuller was in a good spot, at least for the time being. Through the first half of 1985, he outdrew the WWF in Birmingham, but Fuller understood the changing landscape and wanted to protect his business at all costs. That meant upgrading his local television presentation, and he pulled his regular tapings from the WTVY-4 studios and moved them to the much larger Boutwell Auditorium in Birmingham. Gordon Solie served as host. In June 1985, Fuller changed his promotion’s name from the regional Southeastern Championship Wrestling to the broader Continental Championship Wrestling. The move gave him better positioning if and when he was ready to expand outside his regular circuit. His promotion already had a “Continental” heavyweight championship, and over a three-month period between June and September 1985, the belt switched eight times. Jody Hamilton, under the guise of the Flame, became a four-time titleholder during that stretch, and won the belt from Bob Armstrong, Lord Humongous, and Tommy Rich. Other regional stars were Austin Idol, the Nightmares (Ken Wayne and Danny Davis), Porkchop Cash, Bill Ash, Steve Armstrong, and Johnny Rich. Notably, this promotion had a good working relationship with All-South Wrestling of Georgia, a fairly new indie run by Ann Gunkel and booked by Jody Hamilton.243

  Gunkel wasn’t the only promoter attempting a comeback. Up in Michigan, Edward Farhat, a.k.a. the Sheik, was resuming operations nearly four years after his Big Time Wrestling group had fizzled out. He made an appearance at Detroit’s Leland Hotel and beat Fred Curry before 400 fans in mid-1985 and got some favorable print in the Detroit Free Press. His wife, Joyce Fleser Farhat, was quoted in the story (though not acknowledged as his wife), saying the 43-year-old was returning to the mat because “a lot of people [were] trying to claim his title,” referencing his long-running reign as United States champion.244 The Sh
eik was really 59, and his interest in reviving Detroit under the NWA banner proved impossible because of Vince McMahon’s stranglehold. It was no secret that the Detroit–Toronto area was the WWF’s strongest-drawing region outside the Northeast and southern California.

  The WWF packed Detroit’s Cobo Hall from pillar to post on January 12, 1985, selling the joint out for the first time since the Sheik’s heyday, and without Hulk Hogan. In fact, the WWF withheld Hogan from Detroit for eight months that year and built incredible anticipation for his eventual arrival. Over the course of five days in August, the promotion drew more than 50,000 fans for two shows in the Detroit area, with Hogan at the top of the bill for each. The first, on August 23 at Joe Louis Arena, drew nearly 21,000, and Hogan teamed with Ricky Steamboat to beat Don Muraco and Mr. Fuji. That number was topped on August 28, when 30,000 people at the Michigan State Fairgrounds saw Hogan beat Greg Valentine in defense of his WWF championship. The numbers were astonishing, and while a 1985 show headlined by the Sheik was good for nostalgia, the WWF was the only real game in town.

  Indianapolis was another old-time territorial city up for grabs, and McMahon had turned the tables there too. The local promotion of Dick the Bruiser was a shell of its former existence and, though Dick the Bruiser was a folk hero in and around Indiana, young wrestling fans were looking for something different from the grappling their parents had watched in the 1960s and ’70s. Bruiser was a symbolic figure of the territories, and his matches in 1985 were a throwback to a bygone era. But when it came to supporting a wrestling promotion, fans in Indianapolis were excited to see the cast and characters of the WWF. On January 19, 1985, McMahon’s group debuted at the Expo Center to just under 7,000 spectators. Over at the Convention Center, that same night, Bruiser and his crew performed before fewer than 1,000. The following month, the WWF sold out their building, and the WWA sold about 250 tickets.

  Within a matter of months, Bruiser downgraded his regular venue in Indianapolis to a stage at the Vogue nightclub, beginning on May 16, 1985. Vogue owner John Ross told the Indianapolis Star, “Everybody’s talking about [wrestling], so we thought we’d give it a try.”245 But wrestling’s popularity didn’t trickle down to the WWA, and before the summer ended, Bruiser dropped his monthly programs in Indianapolis. He didn’t completely fold up his tent, however, and continued running spot shows in places like Kokomo and Springfield. On August 17, Bruiser headlined a free wrestling show at Trader Bud’s North Hills Chrysler-Plymouth in the Pittsburgh area, and the advertisement told fans to bring their “lawn chairs.” The run of the WWA, as it was known, was truly over.

  Joe Blanchard, head of the Southwest promotion in San Antonio, also neared the end of his run. The constant battle to obtain and keep star-quality wrestlers was one of his biggest problems, and crowds fluctuated throughout 1984 and ’85. But things were getting worse, and his decision to sell out was being made for him. “You’ve either got to be big or little,” he told the Los Angeles Times. “You can’t be in the middle. And we can’t compete with the big three who have that kind of money to provide first-class shows.” Blanchard encouraged his son Tully, now a star for Jim Crockett, to leave San Antonio and get rich elsewhere. “He should get syndicated and go the route,” Blanchard continued. “Big tours, big arenas, big promotions. He’s looking at a shot at making $1,000 a night. Why, I can’t afford to hire my own kid. Maybe if I could guarantee him $4,000 a week for three years.”246 In April 1985, he liquidated his interest in Southwest Championship Wrestling, selling to his former partner Fred Behrend.247 Now more of an independent group than an official territory, the San Antonio promotion experienced several name changes. It was first dubbed Lone Star Wrestling, then Texas All-Star Wrestling, and finally, USA All-Star Wrestling. Behrend managed to increase attendance with Chavo Guerrero, Nick Kiniski, Rick McCord, and a young Shawn Michaels, among others, and highlighted a hot feud between Bruiser Brody and Mark Lewin. The USA heavyweight crown, designated the primary singles championship, was held by Guerrero, Ted DiBiase, and Big Bubba in 1985. An understanding was reached with World Class that kept the promotions from running against each other, and put an end to the destructive war in San Antonio. That was good news for World Class boss Jack Adkisson, as he had bigger things on his mind.

  Syndication for the World Class TV show was going well, and the Continental Broadcasting Network, the promotion’s syndicator, had the show in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles — the top three markets in the U.S. At its height, the telecast was broadcast on two stations in Los Angeles (KCOP-13 and KDOC-56) and featured on the MSG cable network in New York. The in-ring work of Chris Adams, Gino Hernandez, and the Midnight Express were ratings grabbers, and interviews by Jim Cornette and Michael Hayes were must-see. At the second annual David Von Erich Memorial Parade of Champions on May 5, 1985, NWA champion Ric Flair and Kevin Von Erich battled to a double count-out, and Kerry Von Erich went over One Man Gang. Over 25,000 fans were in attendance, for a gate of $250,000, and this show, combined with weekly sellouts of the Sportatorium, proved that World Class was in perfect form.

  The TV ratings in many cities were off the charts, so much so that in places like Boston, live shows were the logical next step. On June 1, 1985, Adkisson’s tribe worked Lynn, Massachusetts, 11 miles outside of Boston, and attracted 8,000 people in a huge success. From August 3 to August 7, 1985, World Class staged five programs in Tel Aviv, Israel, and on the final night, Kevin Von Erich beat Gino Hernandez for the inaugural Middle East championship. The tour was audacious for an American wrestling promoter, but Adkisson took the risk and cleaned up nicely at the gate.248 The matches in Israel were costly, though. A hard canvas at Tel Aviv Stadium put a beating on the troupe, and an injury to Mike Von Erich’s shoulder required surgery.

  Outside of the ring, Adkisson inked an important six-figure deal with Antonio Inoki to supply American talent to New Japan.249 This was the same agreement Inoki used to have with Vince McMahon, but for about half the price, at a reported $200,000.250 Additionally, World Class was in the running for an ESPN cable timeslot, which would only broaden the company’s exposure. The WWF was a complete nonentity in Dallas. As proof of that fact, three days before the Parade of Champions event at Texas Stadium on May 5, a WWF show held at the Convention Center drew a paltry 180 fans. It was embarrassing, but Adkisson’s office took the high road in the media when discussing the wrestling war. “Some of the promoters across the country are really pushing, but we’ve been trying to stay away from the ‘let’s get him’ attitude,” World Class booker Ken Mantell explained. “We say the man with the best product is going to survive.”251

  The WWF struggled in Jerry Jarrett’s territory as well, and Vince McMahon decided to stay away from Memphis completely in 1985. But he ran Louisville, Lexington, Nashville, and Chattanooga, and crowds ranged from 350 to 2,500. Jarrett maintained the highest local ratings for a wrestling TV program in the country and was near untouchable in head-to-head competition. The famous Jerry Lawler–Randy Savage feud reignited in early 1985, and lasted several months, culminating in a loser-leaves-town championship match on June 3, 1985. That night in Memphis, Lawler captured his 40th Southern title and sent Savage packing. But Savage already had a job lined up, and made his WWF debut two weeks later at a Poughkeepsie taping.252 The following month, his wife Elizabeth joined him as his valet-manager. Savage was a huge acquisition for McMahon, and there was no question he was going to make a big impact on the promotion.

  In the Pacific Northwest, Don Owen wasn’t as comfortable as Adkisson and Jarrett. He was stressed by the wrestling war, telling a reporter in May 1985, “In the last six months I’ve been suffering. I’m down as bad as I’ve been in 20 years.”253 But on May 21, 1985, he enjoyed a once-in-a-lifetime wrestling event at the Memorial Coliseum in Portland when more than 12,000 fans turned out to celebrate his family’s 60th anniversary in sports promotions. It didn’t hurt that Owen had booked a superstar lineup, including NWA world champion Ric Fl
air, AWA world champion Rick Martel, the Road Warriors, and Sgt. Slaughter. Roddy Piper, who was on break from his WWF schedule to be with his pregnant wife, also made an appearance in tribute to Owen.

  The heavily cheered Piper went over Buddy Rose in his bout, and it was noteworthy that Rose had also been a participant at WrestleMania under a hood as the Executioner. Flair wrestled Billy Jack Haynes to a 45-minute draw, and Martel beat Mike Miller. The gate was more than $100,000, and the 73-year-old Owen was ecstatic. “Frankly,” he told a reporter for the Associated Press, “I never thought it would be possible. We darn near got a full house.”254 Two days before the event, the Portland Oregonian ran a lengthy piece on the longtime promoter, and the journalist indicated that Owen was becoming “old, cranky, and senile” and “getting crustier by the minute.” But Owen was a “fighter” at heart, and would rather relent to bankruptcy than give in to a rival. “I’ve always been an independent sort of cuss,” Owen explained. “I don’t bother anyone. I’ve never tried to take over a town like ‘New York’ is doing. They’re trying to kill us off. Well, they’re going to have more trouble with me. I own my own building. It took me 14 years to pay for it, including 12 years without a vacation. I’m not going to back off from those . . .” The rest was left up to the reader’s imagination. Despite rumors that Owen was going to sell out soon, perhaps to Verne Gagne, he remained active and was a steadfast member of the NWA. “I have the respect of every wrestler who ever worked out here,” he said. “I’ve been honest with everyone. I’ve paid the highest percentage for the talent. I’ve treated everyone fair.”255 Owen was a top-shelf promoter, but his honesty wasn’t in question. It was all about patronage, and whether the fans of Portland were ready to jump on the WWF bandwagon remained to be seen. Only time would tell.