Tag: Frank Bonnema

The Dog Collar | From the Crow’s Nest

The Dog Collar | From the Crow’s Nest

The only thing worse than an obnoxious braggart is an obnoxious braggart who can back up their words. Buddy Rose tapped into this in the Portland territory, to great success.

Rose doesn’t look like an athlete — so much so that commentator Frank Bonnema regularly calls him the Pillsbury Doughboy of the territory. And yet Rose possessed a nimble quickness and athleticism that belie his frame. Time and time again, Rose finds himself in a seemingly impossible match, and time and time again, Rose escapes with the victory. He loses falls. He bleeds, sometimes in buckets. But he prevails. And it’s that unsinkable quality that simultaneously makes him so reviled by Portland fans of the era and, in hindsight, so valuable to watch, learn from, and enjoy.

Here’s the readily available footage we’re watching in this installment. If you want to make sure you don’t miss anything, I once again encourage subscribing to this Patreon.

5/26/79

For years now, Rose and Ed Wiskowski have been the top villainous duo in Portland. Here, they’re the self-proclaimed world tag champions, holding belts I don’t recognize in a reign I find no record of. This type of thing was common in this era, and something I could see Rose pulling if his career had extended into the Internet age. Show me an online poll where Rose would be one of the chances and I’ll show you the Vegas Playboy trying to gimmick the results for his own aggrandizement. Wiskowski is the highlight here, proclaiming himself a direct descendant of Polish royalty and insists fans in the Pacific Northwest “bow down to the prince.” Rose also brags about winning $600 at the horse track that day, which is a nice real-life detail. He’s easier to hate because of his success.

The centerpiece of this week’s footage is the match between Rose and Johnny Eagles. which, like most main events in Portland, is two out of three falls. There’s minimal footage out there of Eagles, an English wrestler dubbed here as “the Houdini of the mat” and his ability to escape holds is the focal point of this match. Eagles catches Rose unawares to win the first fall in seconds, to the delight of the mainstays in the Portland Sports Arena crowd.

The second fall showcases Eagles’ counters to holds and, if you’ve watched CHIKARA or World of Sport, most of what you see is going to be familiar. Rose plays a willing and at times hapless foil to Eagles, who remains a step ahead of the Vegas Playboy. At one point, Frank Bonnema proclaims Eagles has “more moves than a pound of Exlax.” This is meant to be a positive. Eagles has the slick counters but, here in Portland, Rose is the established ace, even though Roddy Piper still holds the heavyweight championship. It takes rule breaking and brawling, but Rose ties the match at a fall apiece, then makes quick work of Eagles in the third fall to secure the victory. Rose gives up the technical edge, but once again, the braggart backs up his words and scores a win.

And that’s when things get really interesting. Killer Tim Brooks, who’s still seeking revenge from what Rose and Wiskowski did to him back in April and made his big return last week, storms the ring with a dog collar and chain in hand and takes it right to Rose. A couple of punches with the chain wrapped around his fist draw blood from Rose, and we’re just getting started. Brooks wraps the chain around Rose’s neck and drags him from the ring all the way up to the crow’s nest, where he proceeds hammering down blows until Brooks gets what he wants — a “Dog Fight” match on next week’s show. Brooks leaves, and Rose is still selling the chain with some spectacular gags, retches, and heaves.

This brings us directly to…

6/2/79

In the span of a couple months in 1979, Portland has thrown some more match variety at fans in its television than major televised promotions do today. Consider this. In April, we saw a four-on-four elimination tag that is likely the earliest match of its type with surviving footage. Last week, we got Rose and Roddy Piper in a lumberjack match. And now, a dog collar match, a gimmick that Piper made famous a few years later with his amazing and brutal showdown with Greg Valentine at the original Starrcade.

There’s not enough substance here to call this a good match, but a bloody spectacle that is well worth watching. It starts with Rose, who’s determined to stall, run, and do whatever he can to avoid getting that collar around his neck. He threatens to leave the territory forever if this match airs on TV. Then, he tries to bail out only to have Piper block his retreat to the dressing room. Frank Bonnema, meanwhile, adds to the presentation, describing 32 sharpened spikes on both collars. Is this combined? Per collar? Either way it sounds intimidating, as would any quantity of “sharpened spikes.”

When Piper cuts off the exit, Rose backpedals right into the grasp of Brooks, who hooks the collar around him. Rose has some fantastic facial expressions — whether Brooks chokes him with the chain or whips him with it. Anything goes here, including an exchange of low blows. Brooks wraps the chain around his fist and clocks Rose, who comes up gushing blood. Brooks runs the chain around the head wound on Rose, pictured at the top of this piece, and then bites on him. Blood spreads to Rose’s stomach, his legs, and the canvas. There’s a great moment where Brooks decks Rose, and the ensuing torque on the chain tweaks Brooks’ neck injury from a couple months back.

Things break down fully (if they weren’t chaotic enough) when Wiskowski jumps into the ring with a chair. Piper comes to even the odds. Ensuing interviews in the crow’s nest set up a tag team cage match for the following Tuesday in Portland. Add it to the lengthening list of seemingly great matches in this territory that took place on the non-televised Tuesday shows.

Results show that these two teams split cage matches in the ensuing week: that Tuesday in Portland and the next night in Seattle. This is the last time Wiskowski appears in Portland for the near future, leaving Rose in search of a new running buddy… who we’ll meet in the next installment.

Check out our full index of content on Portland Wrestling.

Roddy Piper and his Beloved Brooksie | From the Crow’s Nest

Roddy Piper and his Beloved Brooksie | From the Crow’s Nest

We’re waist deep into 1979 in our journey through the footage of Portland Wrestling, and the feud between Roddy Piper and Buddy Rose has been simmering quite nicely, a delight for the senses. We’ve got a stew goin’ baby!

We’ve seen interviews, both compelling and unhinged. Blood has been shed, via one wrestler squeezing the other’s head like a piece of fruit. And the Portland Sports Arena regulars have welcomed the Hot Rod into their hearts and minds less than a month after he got rough with a woman in the Crow’s Nest.

Welcome to the sublime chaos of Portland.

This week, we look at footage from the May 19, 1979, episode of Portland TV. The star attraction? Piper defending the Pacific Northwest Heavyweight Title against Rose in a Lumberjack Match.

Here’s the video:

We open with Rose and his partner in malfeasance, Ed Wiskowski, speaking to resident commentator Frank Bonnema in the Crow’s Nest. There’s the usual array of boasts and taunting, with Wiskowski weaving a metaphor around Piper being separated from his “mother”, Killer Tim Brooks, for more than a month thanks to this dirty deed by Wiskowski and Rose back in April:

That is what sparked the entire feud between Rose and Piper, and has brought us to this match. Wiskowski refers to Brooks as “mother” and “her”, which, in the context of 2026, certainly is a choice. One can only imagine the havoc that Wiskowski would have wreaked in this era of social media if he maintained just the slighest amount of kayfabe in those mediums.

With that, it’s time for the match itself and Dutch Savage is the ring announcer for some reason. “Guards” surround the ring and stand ready if one of the combatants tries to leave the ring, to throw them back into the squared circle. Bonnema correctly calls this a Lumberjack Match, which seems appropriate thematically for a promotion in the Pacific Northwest. It’s also worth nothing, Portland has now produced a four on four elimination tag in a harbinger to the Survivor Series gimmick that arrives eight years later, and a lumberjack match, all in a span of about six weeks. This is trend setting stuff.

The match itself is… pretty good? It’s definitely not bad, or skippable. It just doesn’t match the quality and intensity of the battle between these same two on the previous episode. Wild cheers for Piper during the intros, and after being taken aback by the crowd response last week, he just seems abundantly pleased this time. Worth noting that, unlike the typical Portland TV main event, this is one fall to a finish and not best two out of three. Piper zeroes in upon the left arm of Rose, which is a common theme in many of Rose’s singles matches, whether he has the upper hand or not. A trip from the outside by Wiskowski allows Rose to take control, during which he fires Piper into the corner on an Irish whip that Roddy takes with full commitment. Frank Bonnema calls this with the appropriate amount of sizzle.

The action here doesn’t hold up to last week but the crowd energy does. Rose maintains control, through an attempted sleeper hold on Piper, and the ensuing rally and reversal into a top wristlock. Finally Piper fights his way back, by, well, fighting. A wild roundhouse and what looks like a running forearm off the ropes evens the scales, if only briefly. Momentum starts to turn and Rose attempts to flee the ring multiple times, getting tossed back in on each occasion. Piper fights back with a flurry capped by a knee lift, which evokes one of those spectacular heedless banana-peel bumps from Rose that are just so enjoyable to watch. Piper later busts out an airplane spin, which Bonnema refers to as somewhat of a retro tactic, even though this match is happening in 1979!

Ultimately, this is Portland, and in Portland we have shenanigans, and so shenanigans eventually ensue. After both wrestlers go to the floor and Piper gets rolled in first, Wiskowski is in and jumps Piper. Bonnema screams about how the referee’s back is turned even though, at one point, referee Sandy Barr turns and clearly sees the assault only to turn back because we’re live, pal, and mistakes happen. The equation changes when Brooks comes storming into the ring from the crowd wielding the chain off a dog collar. Wiskowski gets flattened, and I’m shocked he doesn’t bleed. Brooks hits a jumping legdrop in full view of the official, drags Piper on top, and a quick three count follows to end the match. Brooks continues to clean house, chucking Wiskowski and Rose out of the ring, then kneels and hugs Piper to the unabashed delight of the Portland crowd.

Piper and Brooks head to the crow’s nest, and Piper’s joy at having his “Brooksie” back in the territory is infectious. Brooks takes a turn to talk, and he’s out for revenge. He notes he showed up in jeans and boots: “I haven’t been in these boots since I got home from Vietnam.” If you’re looking for immersion, if you’re wanting to believe, I don’t think there’s a better bar to clear than “I’m coming to fight you in the boots I wore to war.” I always found Brooks’ work in World Class about as compelling as watching as paint dry, but he’s pretty compelling here.

You know, if you’ll indulge me for a second, I leave you this week with the following.

We all try to carve out some slice of happiness in this wild and crazy world. My esteemed readers, I come to you today with the hope that you find the love that exists between Roddy Piper and Killer Tim Brooks in Portland Wrestling in 1979. The type of person that will show up in his boots from war, hug you in front of a capacity crowd, and make an entire wrestling production feel like, if only for a moment, it’s found its soul.

After all, don’t we all need a “Brooksie” in our lives when the going gets tough?

Check out all our content pertaining to the old Portland territory.

From the Crow’s Nest: Bass, Mayne Unite

From the Crow’s Nest: Bass, Mayne Unite

Welcome to the third installment of From the Crow’s Nest, a series of articles looking back at Pacific Northwest Wrestling and the history of wrestling in Portland, Oregon.

In this week’s installment, we cover available footage from November of 1977. Most of the footage comes from a pair of episodes, two weeks apart. You can find everything in this installment on YouTube and I’ve embedded a playlist at the bottom of this article.

November 5, 1977

We’re two weeks removed from the rather fantastic angle and turn involving Sam Oliver Bass (aka Ron Bass), Buddy Rose, and Ed Wiskowski. Bass and Rose faced each other on last week’s episode, which is not available, but we get this entertaining rematch., which also recycles the trope of Rose wrestling a match with a fan favorite positioned as the special referee, although Dutch Savage isn’t nearly as entertaining in that role as Jonathan Boyd was for Rose’s match with Jay Youngblood back in September.

Savage promptly kicks out Wiskowski from ringside, on the threat of disqualifying Rose if Ed doesn’t skedaddle. Bass focuses in on the left arm of Rose, who submits to what Frank Bonnema calls an arm scissors. Rose gets minimal offense in this fall, it’s minimal. He spends much of the fall begging off and running away, which only serves to make Bass come off that much stronger.

After the usual mix of live-to-tape and pre-recorded commercials for sponsors (Tom Peterson has 20 Monte Carlos on the lot for $5,400 each!), Bonnema interviews Wiskowski, who has a match on the upcoming loop against Savage for the heavyweight singles title. What ensues is a very good example of how to do a promo as a confident and arrogant heel wrestler without making your foe look weak.

Rose comes out for the second hall and honors the wrestling gods by still selling the arm. He’s back to stalling and running away, before finally getting the upper hand in Bass after a spot you’ve seen thousands of times: the heel lures their foe into a chase around the ringside area, then cuts off his opponent when they go back into the ring. Rose targets the back of Bass and levels the match on his version of the backbreaker, which has been established in Portland as a strong finisher.

Between falls, Bonnema interviews the plucky babyface duo of Skip Young and Gino Hernandez. I found it interesting that, to me, Gino comes off like a long-lost member of the Von Erich family in what footage of him exists from Portland.

The third fall is brief and high energy, like many of these best of three falls main events tend to be as the show is usually running short on time by this point. Bass kicks out of another backbreaker by Rose and makes his comeback, capped by a punch with some extra mustard that Rose sells with his trademark slipped-on-a-banana-peel bump. While Savage scolds Bass for the punches, Rose comes up bleeding. The match ends shortly thereafter, with Wiskowski coming out to attack Savage and add some heat to their upcoming title match.

This is all pretty good, but we’ve already seen much better so far in this project.

After the match, Savage heads to the crow’s nest and tells Bonnema he’s putting Rose in a cage match against Bass the coming Tuesday. He cites “Don Owen’s power of attorney.” Bonnema’s subsequent verbal gymnastics to justify a wrestler having the authority to book this match come off pretty funny, which is likely not the intended effect. Rose’s reaction is pretty great — full of bloodstained outrage as Wiskowski proclaims, “he is a human being!” The promo work by the heels is good enough to make me wish that footage of the cage match existed.

November 19, 1977

The video quality of this episode is pretty poor, so be prepared.

It’s been a busy two weeks in Portland. Wiskowski has dethroned Savage as the heavyweight champ. Bass and Anson remain the tag champs, but in footage from this episode that apparently has been lost to the sands of time, Anson suffers an injury that’s going to put him on the shelf. This plot point anchors what footage survived from this week.

The main event is a rematch of last month’s great bout between Rose and Mayne. This is still good but doesn’t come close to the energy and crowd heat of the October match. After Mayne wins a pretty straightforward first fall with his flying knee drop, which does not evoke vomit this time — Rose just sells like he’s dead — Bonnema reviews the upcoming seven-day (!) loop.

Next we hear from Bass about the tag title situation. He’s down a partner now and championship matches have been booked on the upcoming loop. Bass’ straightforward, relatable delivery works here.

This is an outlier main event for Portland, as it ends in two straight falls. There’s some noteworthy improvisation that takes place around an equipment malfunction, when Mayne fires Rose across the ring and the impact breaks the top rope. Each wrestler attempts to use the dislodged turnbuckle against the other. Rose wins the fall with his back breaker but stays on the attack, to the point Sandy Barr disqualifies Rose and reverses the decision. Bass comes to make the save for Mayne, so you can probably guess where things are leading.

There’s still time in the episode so we get some filler content. First up an interview with Savage, who becomes more unlikable the more footage I watch of him. He engages in some very dry mockery of Anson for his injury, shits on the San Francisco territory, and then starts talking about his son’s high school football team.

These episodes fall into a certain predictable rhythm. As part of that rhythm, Bonnema has one or two plugs a week about how to get tickets. He seems borderline frustrated at having to explain time and time again, but I find it charming how the best way to get them is to go to the referee’s stand at the flea market.

Next, Gino Hernandez wrestles Skip Young in a standby match which, if you’ve watched old wrestling previously, usually means that the competitors go out there and durdle until the time limit expires. This match follows that pattern. Even Bonnema can’t disguise his boredom, referring to the usually vocal Portland Sports Arena crowd as “quiet but enjoying.” This is a snooze for sure, but at least the matchup is unique.

We conclude with Mayne joining Bonnema in the crow’s nest, only for Bass to interrupt and ask the Moondog to be his partner. As simple as much of the storytelling in Portland can be, there’s no attempt to insult the audience’s intelligence. Bass openly acknowledges the past hostile history with Mayne, saying “I thought this day would never come.” Mayne dons Bass’ cowboy hat as the answer, and we’ve got a new tag team.

Up Next: We wrap up 1977 with a look at the available footage from December.

Miss Something?: Check out the full index of articles in the From the Crow’s Nest series.

From the Crow’s Nest: Bloody Brawls from Rose, Mayne, Bass

From the Crow’s Nest: Bloody Brawls from Rose, Mayne, Bass

Welcome to the second installment of From the Crow’s Nest, a series of articles looking back at Pacific Northwest Wrestling and the history of wrestling in Portland, Oregon.

In this week’s installment, we cover available footage from October of 1977. It’s a pretty good haul for this month, with at least some footage from three out of four episodes in the month from the Saturday night Portland TV show. Most of the footage is on YouTube and is embedded at the end of this article. The video quality on some of this is pretty poor, but the action holds up.

October 1, 1977

Gino Hernandez vs. John Anson

We pick up in the early stages of a match between Anson, who is one half of the tag champs with Sam Oliver Bass (you know him better as Outlaw Ron Bass), and a very young Gino. This is, to my knowledge, the earliest existing footage of Hernandez and seeing him as a plucky young babyface is quite the change of pace considering he’s best known from his years as an arrogant heel for various promotions in Texas.

Like the two out of three falls match between Buddy Rose and Jay Youngblood, a good bit of this match is based around the headlock — only there’s far less sizzle as this encounter lacks both the crowd engagement or the type of selling Rose does in the hold. I wouldn’t call this a good match, but it’s decent and gets significant time. It feels like desperation when Anson starts throwing headbutts, and at one point the two start trading fatigued punches from their knees. Gino comes close to scoring the win a few times, reminiscent of a modern-day New Japan match with a young lion going against a wrestler on the main roster. Hernandez and Anson go the distance, and in the aftermath, commentator Frank Bonnema waxes on how much wrestling in the territory has improved in the past decade.

2/3 Falls: Lonnie Mayne vs. Buddy Rose

This is, in my opinion, the first great match in this project. What makes it great? It encapsulates the entire style of the promotion, and, to a greater extent, wrestling in the 1970s. It’s gritty, brutal, and bloody. It also matches up the territory’s biggest fan favorite in Mayne against Rose, unquestionably the most hated man in Portland.

There’s a story here, and you don’t need to have a literature degree to understand it. Rose has kept hurting other wrestlers in the territory. Mayne, who was friends with many of those injured, wants revenge.

Mayne and Rose get right down to business, with Rose trying for a cheap shot while still wearing his entrance robe. Mayne cuts him off and Rose pays the price. Mere seconds later, Mayne launches off the top with a nasty-looking flying knee drop that catches Rose square in the stomach for the pin to end the first fall. Rose doubles over and vomits in the ring after the fact — which is either proof that knee was very snug or a supreme moment of selling by Rose to be able to vomit on cue. I don’t know which is true, and I actually enjoy the uncertainty.

The little touches elevate what happens between the ropes. In the introduction to this series, I wrote about the unique setting of the Portland Sports Arena, with many fans who come out every week for the TV shows. This creates a level of investment from the crowd that is hard to replicate and even harder to truly explain unless you see it for yourself. After the first fall, Mayne picks up some little girl on his way back to the locker room and no one bats an eye at it. Heading into the second fall, one of the several old ladies who sit in the front row starts chasing Rose around the ring with her cane. Then Mayne takes her cane and tries to use it on Rose. After Rose takes the second fall, bloodying Mayne in the process, fans flock to Mayne as he sits slumped in the corner waiting the third fall; encouraging pats on the back ensue and someone even offers Mayne their drink.

By now, blood (and vomit) have been spilled, creating a heat and hatred for the third fall that feels visceral. A mistake by Rose leads Mayne to attack his arm, looking to make good on last week’s vow to break the arm of the Playboy. Mayne is so relentless that he shoves and then punches referee Sandy Barr when he attempts to intercede, getting himself disqualified. The attack continues around the ringside area until Rose retreats to Bonnema’s crow’s nest broadcast position. I enjoyed this quite a bit, while the main purpose is to serve a street fight rematch between the two a few days later that, sadly, was not televised.

October 8, 1977

Buddy Rose vs. Cocoa Samoa

This is a rematch from their TV bout back in August. Rose does his best Gorgeous George impression in the pre-match, meticulously folding his T-shirt as part of an extended stall. Cocoa ensnares Rose in a headlock and wrenches on it, like Youngblood did last month. Once again, the way Rose sells this is everything. When Cocoa takes down Rose, the Playboy tries to reverse into a pin with a handful of tights but the granny at ringside is on the case, hollering at the referee. Rose attacks the arm of yet another opponent and hooks what looks like a modified kimura to get the submission. Neat.

Mayne is set to wrestle Ed Wiskowski, Rose’s partner, in the main event but that match is absent from the surviving footage. What we do get is a 10-man battle royal for $1,000. Considering that promoter Don Owen tended to maintain a tight crew, this is probably the entire active roster in Portland at that time. The highly invested crowd makes this a fun watch and Gino Hernandez gets a chance to shine as one of the final wrestlers left standing — and takes a pretty spectacular plummet to the concrete floor on his elimination.

October 22, 1977

Dutch Savage, Lonnie Mayne & Skip Young vs. Buddy Rose, Ed Wiskowski & Sam Oliver Bass

Frank Bonnema sets the scene, mentioning some issues between Bass and Rose when they teamed together at a recent event. The theme of dissension is established and plays out in what looks more like a comedic farce on stage than a wrestling match at times. Rose and Wiskowski leave Bass hanging to start the match and, on two occasions in the first fall, Bass gets drilled by mistake by one of his partners. Later, when Savage is working over Bass’ left arm, Rose and Wiskowski deliberately pull back as Bass reaches for the tag. The crowd hoots, hollers, and applauds with delight at each of these moments, and Bass’ facial expressions and body language project his increasing sense of frustration and fury. Despite all the issues within their team, the rulebreakers score the first fall when Wiskowski catches Skip Young with his diving headbutt, a strongly established finishing move in the territory.

After the usual round of live-to-tape commercials between falls (buy a Pinto for $1,000!), we’re back and the dissension between Bass and Rose and Wiskowski continues. Another miscue — this time Rose accidentally dropkicking Bass — leaves him prey to get pinned by Skip and even the match at one fall apiece. The heel team falls apart, with Rose and Wiskowski assaulting Bass. What had, to that point, been played often for laughs turns deadly serious as Bass gets turned into a bloody mess.

Make that a very bloody mess.

It’s an effective beatdown, showing there’s no honor among thieves for the heels in Portland — or, at least, when it comes to Rose and Wiskowski. The break between falls really gives this attack time to breathe. Bonnema interviews Mayne, whose disgust at what happened to Bass adds extra zest to a delicious bit of business. I also greatly enjoyed the little touch by Rose before the third fall, smearing Bass’ blood into the mat with his boots. The third fall is reduced to a straight two on two tag, with Savage and Skip the opposition, and time expires fairly quickly in the fall. That’s all precursor to the post match, when Rose and Wiskowski go to the crow’s nest for an interview and a blood-soaked, bandaged Bass attacks! The crowd is molten hot for this as Bass slams Rose on the wooden commentary desk. Bass is out for blood and vengeance and demands a match with Rose on next week’s episode. The footage of that is unavailable, but it makes you want to tune in next week regardless, and isn’t that the point of any wrestling show — or TV show, period?

Somewhat lost in the shuffle of this blood-soaked tale of dissension: this is the debut in the Portland footage of Skip Young. When you think about wrestlers from prior decades who would have succeeded in the current era, Young definitely classifies. I could see him being a great fit for any modern promotion. He gets a few months to shine here: most notably, in the short second fall, when he busts out an impressive high leapfrog, then a sweet standing dropkick, and kips up ready to keep bringing the fight. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of Skip Young in this territory, but some enjoyable matches lie ahead nonetheless…

Check out the full list of From the Crow’s Nest entries.