Welcome to From the Crow’s Nest! This will be an ongoing series of reviews looking at the history of wrestling in Portland, Oregon … specifically Pacific Northwest Wrestling.

The history of Portland Wrestling goes as far back as 1925 (we won’t go that far back), but it’s best known for the multiple decade run under Don Owen, whose father, Herb, founded the promotion.

The Portland territory was unique, in a few ways.

1. It was small. Owen usually kept an active roster of just 10 to 12 wrestlers, and worked a busy loop of shows in Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia in Canada. You’ll see this on some of the TV segments where they break down the upcoming calendar.
2. Because of the small roster, episodes of Portland’s TV program had a structure that was unique but also seems a perfect fit for a television show. The main event of most episodes was best two out of three falls. Between falls, wrestlers typically went back to the locker room, and during these brief intermissions, they would either hold interviews with wrestlers or cut to commercials with sponsors. It’s a hoot watching the latter, and seeing both the style of the time and some of the prices that seem insanely low, especially by 2025 standards.
3. Portland’s TV program was an institution in the region. Owen ran his TV every Saturday night out of the Portland Sports Arena — a renovated bowling alley that the promotion owned. Eddie Graham followed a similar tact in Florida, running his promotion out of a building he owned. The show aired live — and then, live to tape — on KPTV Channel 12 in Portland for decades, on nothing more than a handshake deal.
4. The crowds, at least on these initial episodes, were red hot. Owen offered “season passes” to the TV tapings, which, combined with the regular loop of towns, forced his wrestlers to shake up their routine and not work the same kind of match time after time. “The first several rows of ringside, you couldn’t buy a ticket, because they were all permanent reservations,” Dave Meltzer once said about Portland crowds to Slam Wrestling. “The first six rows had the same people sit in those chairs for 52 weeks a year for years on end. The only way to get a ringside ticket was if one of them died, you literally had to be in their will.”
5. The Portland product is, in some ways, a harbinger of what changed in wrestling in the 2000s. The promotion emphasized more smaller wrestlers and a fast-paced style. Owen also had a reputation for paying well, which left no shortage of individuals who wanted to make their way through the territory. Consequently, a who’s who of talent makes appearances in Portland over the years.

With that introduction out of the way, let’s dive right into the footage.

We pick up with what I believe is the oldest existing video from Portland’s TV show.

Lonnie Mayne vs. Jesse Ventura, 5/7/77

You may know the Moondogs more as the tag team that worked throughout different territories in the U.S., but Mayne was actually the original Moondog. He also would have a much larger legacy in wrestling if he hadn’t been lost too soon. He died in 1978 at the age of just 33 in a car accident en route to a booking in California. Mayne worked almost exclusively as a heel in the early 1970s, and challenged Pedro Morales for the WWWF Title at Madison Square Garden. By 1977, though, Mayne was a beloved fan favorite of the Portland Sports Arena crowd. There’s an excellent bio of Mayne at Pro Wrestling Stories if you’d like to know more about him.

In this match, a best-two-out-of-three fall affair as was the custom on Portland TV, Mayne wrestles Ventura, who was at this point a fixture in the territory before going on to bigger stages in the AWA and WWF. The surviving footage starts with the first fall in progress, then jumps ahead to the third fall, with no finish. Mayne had a reputation for being wild in and out of the ring; at one point, he heads to ringside and throws a drink in Ventura’s face. One punch later and Ventura goes sprawling to the floor.

Between the ropes, Mayne was rather fearless. In the third fall, he takes a variation of what I know best as the Harley Race bump to the floor: hooking his feet on the ropes then dropping down on his head. As if the beverage wasn’t enough, Jimmy Snuka — another wrestler who became a regular in Portland in the 1970s before moving to bigger stages — comes to ringside and tosses Mayne a cowbell to start laying waste to Ventura. Somehow, this isn’t a DQ.

This one falls in the Worth Watching category for me. There’s nothing earth-shattering here but the crowd is hot, the action is entertaining, and there’s some significant historic value here.

Cocoa Samoa vs. Buddy Rose , 8/13/77

This is the earliest footage in Portland of Buddy Rose. If there’s an all-time MVP of the territory, it’s probably him. I also think Rose is one of the most underrated wrestlers of all time and, if you follow me through this journey, don’t be surprised if you end up agreeing. Rose can chain wrestle, brawl, and fly. He takes these fantastic heedless-looking bumps, and gives enteraining interviews as a villain who is either talking trash or extremely aggrieved at some perceived injustice. Meanwhile, he has a willingness to bleed buckets that I found endearing. This match with Cocoa is just the tip of the iceberg on the footage of Rose, who personally is responsible for most of the surviving footage from Portland in this era, because he had a habit of recording episodes of Portland’s TV program so he could go back and review his matches.

The video quality is not the best and Portland commentator Frank Bonnema — whose broadcast position is referred to as The Crow’s Nest (get it?) — pooh-poohs what he perceives as a light crowd. Adding greatly to the atmosphere, there’s a granny in the front row who’s vigilant as Rose repeatedly pulls on Cocoa’s trunks while ensnared in a headlock. At one point in the match, Cocoa delivers his leaping headbutt and Rose takes what I consider his signature bump: an explosion of movement where he pushes off with his legs and sends himself flying back to the mat. The landing is more reminiscent of a cartoon character who slipped on a banana peel. It’s ridiculous taken as a snapshot, but it works because it’s so over the top. It’s a regular part of Rose’s matches and it often serves the purpose of making the opposing wrestler’s offense look devastating, which, really, is one of the major points of a wrestling match, isn’t it? Rose wins the match clean with a modified backbreaker that looks like something out of the Roderick Strong arsenal, but the decision gets overturned when he keeps attacking Cocoa, ultimately shoving referee Sandy Barr.

This is honestly Skippable, but if you’ve never seen Buddy Rose in action, it’s a fine introduction with a low investment of time.

Up Next: We continue the journey in 1977.