But I still do things my way." Substitute “wrestling” for “music” and that statement sounds like something Bill Watts would say.  My condolences to his wife, Jessi Colter, and the rest of his family. Thanks for the music and the memories, Waylon. Rest in peace.

In other sad news, Jeff Raitz died of a heart attack this past Saturday. He was 39. Jeff didn’t go to the pay window too often in the UWF, but I really enjoyed watching him. He had a tremendous amount of ability and it showed, regardless of the match’s outcome. Jeff also worked in the World Class, Global, and Wild West promotions. He used the nickname “Rattlesnake” and also created the memorable persona of Rattler McNasty. Jeff is survived by his wife and two children. Rest in peace, Jeff. 

I am Charles Laffere, and welcome to the latest UWF edition here at Kayfabe Memories. Last time we met, we were seated in the mezzanine at the Sam Houston Coliseum as the intermission approached. Instead of heading for the concession stand to grab some cashews and a Pearl beer, the confounded Kayfabe Memories Wayback Machine malfunctioned and propelled us back to the future. After taking some time off to find someone to repair it—Dr. Emmett Brown has apparently retired and Mr. Peabody has an unlisted number—we are ready to time travel once again. So let’s see if this will work…. 

“Well, hey there, baby, do you want to make the scene?
I said a-hey there, baby, do you want to make the scene?
Awww, well, come on over, baby, step into my time machine.” 

“Time Machine” by Grand Funk.

Strange whirring sounds, noxious emissions, @%#$^&*(??!,  machine catapults to I-10 and heads east. It’s working, yes!! Uh, where’s the dramamine,uh, what the…”Glory of Love,” “Stuck With You,” “How Will I Know,” can’t we change the damn station?!?, arrrrrghhh….I-45 straight ahead, are we there yet, are we there yet???…

What’s the dial say? January 23, 1987? Wow, it worked. I grab the cashews and the beer from the concessionaires and await the next match. It looks to be a good one, as Chavo Guerrero is facing Buddy Roberts. “Weighing 225 pounds and hailing from Fountain Valley, California, Chavo, Guerrero!” Chavo gets a big pop from the Coliseum crowd and for good reason—he’s one of the best workers the UWF’s got. Chavo’s father was the Mexican legend Gory Guerrero. His brothers Hector, Mando and Eddie have enjoyed successful careers, and his son Chavo Jr. is a very talented yet totally underutilized member of the current WWF roster. On separate occasions he teamed with his father and his brother Hector to hold the NWA’s Americas Tag Team belts. By 1987 Chavo had been a pro for 15 year and held numerous titles in the NWA and in the Southwest Championship and Texas All-Star promotions. He also enjoyed considerable success in New Japan. After Texas All-Star folded, Chavo joined the UWF and fit in perfectly. Much like Terry Taylor and Chris Adams, Chavo could wrestle anywhere on the card from the opener to the main event and have a very good match. Alright, Chavo!!!

“Weighing 230 pounds and hailing from Badstreet, USA, Buddy Roberts!” Buddy enters to the melliflous sounds of “Badstreet, U.S.A.” and gets booed by the Coliseum faithful. Once inside the ring, Roberts leans over the ropes and gives the abuse right back. Boo, Buddy!!! The match starts when Roberts jumps Guerrero as Chavo is taking off his ring jacket. It is a back-and-forth contest as Guerrero, who was a terrific mat wrestler, tries to fend off Roberts’ brawling strategy. As it progresses, Guerrero nails Roberts with a drop kick. Roberts responds by shaking off the cobwebs, staggering around the ring, and displaying some of those classic goofy Buddy Jack facial expressions. When Roberts’ cheating ways seemed to have gained him an advantage, Guerrero makes a comeback. After a series of moves which leaves Roberts reeling,  Guerrero hits the Moonsault Bodyblock--voted the "Best Maneuver" in the Wrestling Observer the previous month—and takes the victory. On the way back to the dressing room, Chavo slaps hands with the fans while Buddy stumbles through the jeers.

A death match was next—the Angel of Death against Dr. Death, Steve Williams. The Angel was still in the Freebirds camp at this point and was accompanied to the ring by the recently vanquished Buddy Roberts. The referee disallows it, sending Roberts back to the dressing room. Dr. Death comes out accompanied by “Born in the U.S.A.” and the Coliseum erupts. The Angel jumps Doc right away and receives more punishment that he gives, sending Mr. Angel outside to regroup. The match continues with some brawling mixed with some of Williams’ devastating suplexes. Dr. Death gains a distinct advantage and finishes off Mr. Angel with a powerslam. After the pin, Terry Gordy emerges from the dressing room, rushes the ring, and issues a beat down on Williams. Michael Hayes and Buddy Roberts join in, and suddenly Dr. Death is in a very bad spot. Ted DiBiase joins the fray with a steel chair for an equalizer and chases off the Freebirds. A dazed Dr. Death is helped by DiBiase out of the ring and into the dressing room.

DiBiase stalks angrily back to the ring for his main event, glove-on-a-pole match with Michael “P.S.” Hayes.  The pole was quickly mounted in between the time DiBiase left the ring and when he returned. If I recall correctly, Hayes had stolen DiBiase’s glove during the preceding weeks, either in the Coliseum or on UWF television. In the ring, DiBiase stares down the entrance way with a furious gaze awaiting the Freebird leader. As “Badstreet, U.S.A.” once again blares from the P.A., Hayes makes his usual flamboyant entrance. DiBiase grabs the house mic and states that the “P.S.” initials stand for “Prissy Sissy.” Hayes then charges the ring and walks straight into a DiBiase tornado of offense. Hayes gets in some token blows, but it’s a pretty one-sided match in favor of DiBiase. Terry Gordy once again comes down to ringside but is clocked by a vengeful Dr. Death. DiBiase manages to get the glove off of the pole and pounds Michael Hayes into a bloody mess. The Angel and Buddy Roberts hit the ring, but Dr. Death and DiBiase make their exit before any further brawling is done. The Freebirds stand in the ring and shout at the fans while either Peter Birkholz or one of the Pritchard brothers make the ominous announcement that ANYONE caught throwing ANYTHING at the ring will be ejected AND arrested.

And that’s it. Steve Williams and Ted DiBiase cut a promo for the next card at the Houston Wrestling podium in the Coliseum lobby with Paul Boesch. Dr. Death stands and issues a challenge for a Texas death match to Terry Gordy while DiBiase requests a no-disqualification bout with UWF Heavyweight champion the One Man Gang. Once the good guys leave, the Freebirds are interviewed en masse. Boesch glowers with indignation as Gordy accepts Dr. Death’s challenge and Michael Hayes threatens violence on mayhem on the UWF in general.

A pretty good show, but I wouldn’t learn until years later why some of my favorite UWF stars were absent. The promotion was running a split crew that night, with one show in Houston and another in Jackson, MS. The Jackson main event featured Jim Duggan in his last UWF match, losing the final in a series of loser-leave-town bouts throughout the territory with the One Man Gang. In any event, a fine evening of wrasslin’ at the coliseum. Now, if I can just find the keys to the wayback machine… 

“It's got me up and down,
I been lost and found,
Down in a deep dark hole.
Looks like my luck has changed,
I been rearranged
And I'm coming out on a roll. 

Lookin' high and low, don't know where to go,
I got to double back, my friend.
The only way to find, what I left behind
I got to double back again, double back again.”

“Double Back” by ZZ Top.

Whew, I’m glad that worked. Thanks again for taking time to stop by. A special thanks to the reader who suggested Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Fortunate Son” as Joel Watts’ theme. Keep those requests coming, folks! It’s good to see that business has picked up quite a bit at the KM UWF Message Board. And, as usual,  please feel free to e-mail any comments to me at CL11@swt.edu. Until the next time… 

“I'll fly a starship across the Universe divine
And when I reach the other side
I'll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
Or I may simply be a single drop of rain
But I will remain
And I'll be back again, and again and again and again and again...” 

“Highwayman”

NEXT MONTH:

More adventures in the wayback machine or just a regular column?