About Me

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Since 2005, and over 800 entries, the orginal purpose of this BLOG has never changed. I consider it to be a personal letter from me to my extended family of fans, supporters, and friends. I ALWAYS encourage your emails, comments, suggestions, and questions. Be Blessed! ~Percy

Monday, March 17, 2008

"So Percival... Matthew says you don't like being painted yellow."

Myself, "Killer" Tim Brooks, and Gary Hart in the dressing room somewhere in Texas around 1986 or 1987.
Sir Oliver Humperdink, yours truly, and "Uncle" Gary Hart at the Cauliflower Alley Club Reunion in Las Vegas in 2005.

Sharing a private moment with my friend Gary in Las Vegas. Another chapter has closed on old school professional wrestling.

ahhhhhhh...... Gary Hart. There's so many thoughts, so many memories, and an aching heart knowing that our brotherhood has lost yet another cornerstone. Far too many stones have fallen, the building is crumbling right before our very eyes.

I could tell stories all evening about Gary Hart, whom I've been privileged to call "Uncle Gary" for so many years. I first met Gary in World Class during the mid-1980's. Booker Ken Mantell had brought myself and Rick Rude in from Florida. If you've seen the WWE WCCW dvd, you know that Gary didn't care too much for Ken. So... me being "Ken's boy," made me an enemy to Gary. We were both heel managers, the formula is simple. Oil and water. Be that as it may, Gary and myself were really fine with each other, but we never were "buddy - buddy."

In time, Ken Mantell left and down the road Gary took over the book. I was still a heel manager and I had an office in the Sportatorium handling all the souvenir merchandising. About that time, I started getting painted yellow, booked in mud matches, just having a grand old time. One of my stable of wrestlers was Matt Borne, and Matt and Gary were pretty tight. However, Matt was never known to be too tight lipped. He told Gary how much I hated getting painted yellow every night.

One quiet afternoon in the Sportatorium, I was in my upstairs office and Gary was in the booker's office downstairs. I heard footsteps and the next thing I heard was, "So Percival... Matthew says you don't like being painted yellow."

We looked at each other, and all of a sudden something changed. We spent the afternoon laughing. From that day on, practically every afternoon Gary would come up to my office and we would share.... hmmmm.... you know..... things folks shared at the world famous Sportatorium. LOL

I learned a lot from Gary. Not just managing. I learned how to be biggest asshole in the universe if I wanted to be. How to give you a big hug, and put a knife in your back at the same time, while smiling from ear to ear.

Gary always carried a razor blade in his cigarette pack, and I watched him carve up my friend The Missing Link one night in the dressing room in Plano, Texas.

Just like myself, if Gary was your friend, you had the best friend in the world. If he was your enemy, you had better watch your ass 24/7, one day you will be had.

I will always treasure my time with Gary. Just like me, he loved his sons more than life itself; and just like me, he was so proud when his son became a wrestler.

Go rest high on that mountain Uncle Gary, your work on earth is done.

Be Blessed.