1974: Nepotism in Western States Sports

Written by Barbara Rocca
Part of Violent People’s FUNKIN’ FALL series: view the full index.

AMARILLO, TEXAS — 1974

I’ve been a good ol’ boy from Amarillo my whole life and Western States Sports is the territory I grew up with. IIt’s the promotion my daddy took me to as a boy, and one that has reached new heights under the management of the legendary Dory Funk. But all is not right in Texas, and it seems the worst is yet to come. I’ve withheld judgement long enough, but it seems my biggest fears are coming true: Terry Funk, Dory’s own son, is going to kill the wrestling business.

The nepotism has come home to roost. I fear Dory may be too emotionally invested in his youngest to be making sound decisions about the future of the territory. All seemed well at first with the debut of the elder Dory Jr. making waves across Texas. Junior is a helluva talent, having already proven himself at the highest level, but it seems the family talent ends there, leaving Dory Jr. to carry Terry through some serviceable (at best) tag team matches. Terry is definitely the underachiever of this wrestling royal family and it’s not particularly close. Terry is just there, being the worst amongst respected veterans, dragging the match down to his considerably lower level.

I understand wanting to get your son a job working with his old man, but maybe Terry would be better suited for refereeing, or ring announcing, or selling hotdogs outside the arena, as far away from the ring as can be.

He has none of the skill of his more famous family, relying mostly on brawling around the arena. This is where I start to get really worried. Terry does not have the classic wrestling skills: the arm drag, the figure four, the body slam, the vertical suplex, a body slam again followed by another vertical suplex. Real wrestling eludes him, with his matches resembling the notorious outlaw mudshows that would never get the nod of approval from the NWA. Much like the Crusher and the Bruiser, Terry’s wild style of wrestling is sure to earn the scorn of the perfectly legitimate state athletic commission. This is wrestling. People don’t want to watch people beat each other bloody, and they never will.

Terry’s never going to draw a dime, crawling through life off the reputation of his family name. There will be no world titles for Terry. He’s no Dory Jr., who has already proven himself worthy of the NWA World Heavyweight Championship. He’ll make money as a journeyman, bereft of big moments. He’ll never have the big feuds with the likes of Harley Race, Dick Murdoch, or Dusty Rhodes. He’s never going to be a serious contender for Jack Brisco’s NWA World Heavyweight Championship. Perhaps he can be a curtain jerker for the night Dory Jr faces Brisco with the gold on the line.

Until then, all I can do is hope and pray Dory’s kid sees his way out before he does any lasting damage to the reputation of the local territory I’ve been compulsively obsessed with for nearly my entire life. Maybe the NWA will need a job guy soon and we’ll finally be able to get Terry out of town before this whole promotion comes crashing down around him. I take no pleasure being a critic of the sport I love so dearly every week for the last five years, but I do it for the fans. After all, that’s who’s really in control of the future of wrestling: some guy with a newsletter.

Then. Now. Forever.

More FUNKIN’ FALL: See every year in the series