By Coach B

I do as little research as possible before watching these episodes I review. It is a point of pride, actually.

If I ever pick a dud of an episode, we are in this shit together. I share your disappointment and frustration in my inability to find something better.

1975 IWA Episode #9

Argentina Apollo & Luis Martinez vs. Frenchy Martin & Joe Turco

The episode kicks off with Jack Reynolds and Big Tex McKenzie, and the energy is awkward from the jump.

Tex absolutely looms over Jack. He gets about four inches from his face, grabs the back of his neck with a big grin, and announces:

“You curly haired devil, you!”

It is important to note that Jack does not have curly hair.

Wavy as a SOB?

Sure.

I try my best to keep things positive, but Big Tex requires some patience.

He does not so much co-host a television program as stand near the camera and radiate the energy of a 300 pound, elderly golden retriever.

He is either operating on a permanent three second delay, or he is simply thrilled to be indoors.

Whatever the explanation, he does not understand the personal space rule.

Tex continues to tower over him, close enough that if any large man stood that near you, your natural response would be, “Back the fuck up.”

If you were taller than that man.

If you are 5’9” like me, you mind your business and let the giant be creepy.

At one point, Tex announces his favorite wrestler and names both Argentina Apollo and Luis Martinez.

So, two favorite wrestlers.

Fine. It's early.

Apollo and Martinez are facing two jobbers. Joe Turco is wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask. The other is Frenchy Martin, who would later become a manager in the WWF of my childhood for Dino Bravo.

Tex has already entered the category of person where I am terrified of what he is going to say next.

He starts talking about Frenchy Martin’s tights and says they look like they came out of...

Then he pauses.

And I have to tell you, man, during that split second, I honestly thought we were about to discover some unfortunate mid 70s phrasing that had somehow slipped through the YouTube algorithm.

He went with “science fiction movie.”

Then he laughed a real laugh, like he had been carrying that one around all week.

Argentina Apollo puts what Tex calls a “hold” on Frenchy Martin.

If by “hold” you mean “completely shit whipped him directly onto his melon.”

In real time, it almost looks like a high school wrestling move. Then they show the replay, because apparently even in 1975 somebody in production understood they had just witnessed a potential homicide.

Frenchy does not get his arms down in time. Apollo kind of hip tosses him straight onto his head.

Unless I am the dumbest mark alive, that was a terrific way to break a man’s neck.

Tex is not lying there.

They later do about three crisscross spots, where one man runs one way while the other runs in the opposite direction.

Even by pro wrestling standards, this is utterly stupid.

Joe Turco is the faceless asswipe underneath the Phantom of the Opera mask.

Frenchy Martin, meanwhile, is also a wrestler.

A lot of wrestling announcers will focus on strength, agility, or physique.

Jack Reynolds is not there for that shit.

Luis Martinez, who I can confidently say is built like a butt plug, apparently has too many holds for Jack to mention.

Jack cannot name one.

He does note that Luis Martinez has especially strong finger holds.

Finger holds.

The referee is future NWA great Tommy Young, who is only 28 years old here. I felt guilty after looking that up, so I also checked on Jack Reynolds.

He was a Cleveland television personality.

That seemed to be the entire story.

Except I also accidentally learned that Cleveland area native Joseph Rizzo used the name Jack Reynolds on television because he thought Rizzo sounded “too ethnic.”

Fine times.

You know what?

I am calling him Jack Rizzo now.

If I keep calling him Jack Reynolds, I am part of the problem.

Got your back, Rizzo.

The finish is an airplane spin and backbreaker happening simultaneously. Luis Martinez spins one jobber while Argentina Apollo bends the other across his knee.

It looked pretty cool.

Frenchy spends the end of the match staggering around in a daze.

Either he is a tremendous actor or his C4 vertebra is now dust.

The match was fine for the time. Frenchy avoiding paralysis and Tex reacting like he was seeing wrestling and television for the first time justify the hefty score.

Match Score: 3.7

Promo: George “Crybaby” Cannon & Eric the Red

Rizzo is interviewing the world’s greatest wrestling manager, George “Crybaby” Cannon, with Eric the Red standing behind him.

I have not even started this segment yet. I just need to get this out before it leaves me.

George Cannon is wearing a blue softball batting helmet.

You might be thinking, certainly that cannot be right.

It is.

Then Cannon starts talking about Eric using his bone.

And keeps saying “bone” far more often than any reasonable person should.

Eric the Red is standing behind him, stroking his bone.

That sounds dirtier than it is, except that is indeed what he is doing.

Cannon signs off with the bold declaration that they are no longer accepting ordinary victories by pinfall or submission.

Only opponents stretchered out will count for Eric the Red from now on.

More entertaining than it had any right to be.

Segment Score: 7.0

U.S. Champion Bulldog Bob Brower vs. Joe Richards

I do love this era, where your body type be damned, you could just be a professional wrestler.

Joe Richards looks like a perfectly acceptable jobber. Across from him is U.S. Champion Bob “The Bulldog” Brower, who looks less like a champion and more like someone who has been asked to leave three different VFW halls.

Brower’s championship belt appears to be a red velvet cummerbund with no actual championship attached.

I checked again.

There is metal on it.

The picture just looks like shit.

Brower walks around with a big dumb look on his face while beating Richards about the head. Nobody in the crowd seems particularly moved by any of this.

Then Rizzo puts Tex on the spot.

• Joe Richards is from Texas.

• Tex is named Tex.

• Tex is also from, checks notes, Texas.

Surely Tex can tell us something about this young man from Amarillo...

Tex says he has seen him a few times and believes Richards has some “Indian... Indian blood.”

That was his fact.

Indian blood.

He said it twice.

Tex is legally drunk or stone sober. No gray area here.

Also, there may not be any rules.

Tommy starts just standing there as Bulldog Brower throws Richards outside the ring.

Brower grabs a wooden chair and hits Joe’s poor ass over the head with it.

Tommy’s ass just keeps counting.

Brower rolls him back into the ring, and the match continues per usual.

The strange thing is, despite Bulldog Brower looking goofy as shit, the beating itself looks completely believable.

Near the end, they get a close up of Joe Richards and Tex mentions that his nose may be broken.

Looking at him, his nose may genuinely be broken.

Good eye, Tex.

Brower eventually wins with what they call the Cobra hold in 3:59.

I do like that they announce the specific hold used to win.

That should come back.

Post match, Rizzo announces that “Tommy Young has asked the champion for help reviving Joe Richards.”

The same Joe Richards whose nose he just broke?

Indeed.

Brower goes back over and drops a knee on his head outside the ring.

That was his contribution to the medical effort.

Tommy Young: innovator.

Did not see it coming from you, Tommy.

Match Score: 4.4

Mil Máscaras vs. Bobby Garcia

If you are not following along, picture a mid 1970s man weighing around 250 pounds named Bobby Garcia.

Got that image locked in?

THAT is exactly what he looks like.

You will not be disappointed.

Actually, take that back.

You will be sufficiently disappointed.

The appropriate amount.

Mil enters wearing a mask, which he removes to reveal another mask underneath.

Maybe it is deep symbolism about the masks we all wear every day.

Or maybe Mil was the champion, had another mask he liked, and figured why the hell not.

Yeah.

That is the option I would pick too.

He is also introduced as the “Man of 1,000 Masks.”

The IRS is absolutely asking why one man writes off 1,000 masks as “depreciable business assets.”

Then Tex gleefully offers the following information:

“Girls, Mil is single and drives a Mercedes Benz.”

Tex is the best.

I know this promotion will be short lived and there probably is not much commentary like this left, but I am now fully committed to finding every available second of Tex McKenzie behind a microphone.

He is out here soliciting ass on behalf of Mil Máscaras.

I would not even call him a wingman.

He is an appointment setter.

Mil is the closer.

Tex manages the top of the funnel.

I do not know how the commission structure works with regard to women who hate their dads, but hopefully Tex gets the spillage.

Mil wins with two pretty cool flying forearms, followed by an excellent backward dive off the top rope.

I am sure these maneuvers have official names.

I am just going by what the ring announcer, Rick Martin, called them.

He is wearing a tuxedo, which makes his authority legally binding.

The finish looked great.

The rest of the match consisted of what one of my former coaches used to call two monkeys humping a football.

Therefore, three out of ten monkeys humping a football feels mathematically fair.

Match Score: 3.0

Kurt Von Hess w/ Al Costello vs. Marshall Lewis

They do not even bother to show Marshall Lewis’s face.

Poor bastard must be that ugly.

Kurt Von Hess is throwing what looks like real ass punches.

I think wrestlers in the 1970s only knew how to lightly assault one another.

Then Rizzo points out that Tommy Young is admonishing Von Hess for grabbing the tights, and I call shenanigans.

We just watched Bulldog Brower use a chair outside the ring while Tommy’s ass just stood there looking perplexed.

So is that the rule?

Anything outside the ring is legal?

That would be a pretty unique feature.

Just kidding.

That is just modern wrestling.

Never mind.

Kurt Von Hess wins with the body press.

I am just going to say it.

He raises his hand with his fingers straight out enough times that, yeah, he is German and they are doing a thing.

It is the 1970s.

Tex has spent most of the episode reminding us.

Kurt is here to help.

It was not good, and the finger thing made me uncomfortable.

Match Score: 2.0

Dale Starr & Big Jim Wilson vs. The Love Brothers w/ Al Costello

Next up, Reginald and Hartford Love, the Love Brothers, versus Dale Starr and Big Jim Wilson.

Big Jim Wilson played for the San Francisco 49ers, Atlanta Falcons, and Los Angeles Rams.

If you are wondering why you have never heard much about Big Jim Wilson’s wrestling career after this, there may be a reason.

He later tried to organize a wrestlers’ union.

Yeah.

They were gonna shut that shit down quick, fast, and in a hurry.

Dale Starr is new here.

So between the two of them, they have played for three NFL teams.

The Love Brothers introduce themselves as “the world’s most exciting tag team duo,” I presume as a joke.

If they lived next door, you would tell your kids they are not allowed to trick or treat there.

Does not matter how good the candy is.

Rizzo tells us they get letters from confused fans asking whether the Love Brothers are actually brothers.

Well, some upsetting news.

Rizzo is lying to us.

Their real names are Johnny Evans and Wes Hutchings. They figured the tie dye and love beads would keep anyone from asking too many questions.

It is the mid 1970s. Lots of drugs. Pretty lax open container laws.

Safe bet.

Rizzo keeps talking up the Love Brothers’ teamwork, and tonight he has developed an unfortunate habit of putting Tex on the spot.

The Love Brothers attempt what I assume is supposed to be a double team suplex.

They never really get to the suplex part.

They just drop the guy on the back of his damn head.

For the record, I have watched enough professional wrestling to know what a bump is supposed to look like.

These gentlemen are not doing that.

I am not calling this a slapdick operation.

I am just saying some of these dudes do not look especially trained.

Then Rizzo asks Tex what he would call the move.

Poor Tex flops around verbally for a few seconds before finally admitting:

“I don’t know what you call that move.”

Tex is really growing on me.

Simple man. Simple humor. Loves little spacemen. Holds a few other opinions we will describe as historically specific.

Quit pressing Tex for information, Rizzo.

Be cool.

The Love Brothers are clearly the featured team here. Starr and Wilson are the jobber fellas.

That does not stop one of the Loves from absolutely thumping poor big dumb what’s his face.

Then comes the finish, something they call the double hangman.

It is basically a double team overhead press where the Love Brothers lift this poor son of a bitch up and drop his throat directly across the top rope.

It looks gnarly.

That is becoming a trend this evening.

Some of this looks professionally dangerous.

It also looks like it hurts like hell.

Same with the pins.

The pins look non-consensual.

After the match, the Love Brothers keep beating the hell out of Starr.

Big Jim Wilson, former player for three NFL teams, responds by standing there and watching.

Big set of balls on Jim Wilson.

Big set.

Team player.

Sloppy, rough, and pretty unsafe.

Kind of loved it.

Half these guys wrestle like somebody showed them three moves in the parking lot and said, “You’ll figure out the rest.”

Match Score: 4.8

Promo: Cowboy Bob Ellis & Tex McKenzie

Next we get a promo from Cowboy Bob Ellis, with Tex McKenzie standing beside him and Rizzo conducting the interview.

Cowboy Bob is exactly what the name promises.

Old man.

Cowboy.

Ellis starts talking about how he and Tex have been discussing forming a tag team together.

For a second, this is kind of sweet.

Two senior citizens finding companionship through organized violence.

Isn’t that nice?

Then Tex interrupts.

“I gotta say something.”

By this point, those words should concern everybody.

• Ethnic remark? Happened.

• Spacemen? Happened.

• Genuinely confused and willing to admit it on television? Very much in play.

Except now Tex starts talking about Ernie Ladd turning against Cowboy Bob.

Wait.

What?

We have not seen that yet.

Apparently this promo is discussing the attack we are about to watch happen in the main event.

IWA has decided spoilers are just another rule Tommy Young does not enforce.

Whatever the explanation, Tex is genuinely upset.

That is the thing about Tex. He does not really get angry.

He becomes troubled.

Like Ernie Ladd has personally disappointed him.

Cowboy Bob then talks about the hatred and “maniac look” in Ladd’s eyes when he attacked him.

Again, none of this has happened on the episode yet.

Stay with me.

I am doing my best.

Eventually they move on to Tex and Bob talking about teaming together and all the places they have handled the Mongols.

Texas.

South Africa.

Australia.

Seemingly before the invention of light and sound.

My God, these guys look old.

Near the end, Rizzo starts making his earnest pitch for everyone to come see the IWA when it rolls into town.

Unfortunately, Tex still isn’t a believer in personal bubbles.

Rizzo says, “I’d be saying this even if these two men weren’t here right now...”

You mean these two giants towering over you?

One of whom has a loose understanding of boundaries?

The segment ends on an off center wide shot.

You are not gonna find that promo in any standard wrestling class.

Do art teachers take kids on a field trip to the Sistine Chapel, point up and say, “See that? Your turn”?

Hell no.

I understand I gave this interview a 4.7.

Just know that history may judge me harshly for it.

Segment Score: 4.7

Cowboy Bob Ellis & Ernie Ladd vs. Bolo & Geeto, The Mongols w/ George “Crybaby” Cannon

Seems that promo from earlier actually was leading somewhere.

Or technically coming from somewhere we had not gotten to yet.

I do not want to accuse Tex of misspeaking. God knows that could never happen.

I also could have just not been paying attention.

Cowboy Bob Ellis is wearing cow print trunks, which feels very wrong.

His attempt to be snazzy is not going well.

One of the nice things about 1975 wrestling is that you did not really need a physique.

Everybody kind of had the same one.

Some were bigger. Some were wider. Some were longer.

But most of these guys look like if you stopped them on the street and asked what they did for a living, professional wrestler would not be your first guess.

• Blackjack dealer.

• Pawn shop dealer.

• Drug dealer.

You had options.

Which does explain why guys like Superstar Billy Graham, Jesse Ventura, and eventually Hulk Hogan looked like absolute aliens when they showed up.

The Mongols, though, are fully committed to the gimmick.

Haircuts.

Fu Manchus.

It is a spectacular look.

I’m in.

This match is better than most of what we have seen, which is relative when you are shopping in an aisle of unpolished turds.

The Mongols’ wrestling style appears to be mostly thumping the hell out of folks, which has become something of a theme.

The pin attempts are non-consensual.

Holds look like somebody is trying to get out of trouble versus patiently waiting for their turn.

Just to be safe, they would hurt each other to make it look good.

Cowboy Bob’s offense is brutally simple. He gets into this put your dukes up, 1930s boxing stance, leans forward, then starts throwing holds and bear hugs.

Yep.

One of the Mongols does have a legitimately cool little visual. During a wide shot, he climbs way up into the corner with one foot on the second rope and the other on top while the match is still going on.

No idea why.

Looks menacing as hell.

The wide shot also reminds you that these are enormous human beings.

Then Ernie Ladd gets in there.

Oh, right.

That is Ernie Ladd.

Six foot freaking nine.

The match is not exactly action packed, but for a man that size, Ladd moves remarkably well. Even the little stuff around the ring looks easy for him.

Also, Crybaby Cannon is very fat.

And I mean that in the most complimentary heel manager sense possible.

Not just big.

Round.

There is something uniquely uncomfortable about his dimensions.

The crowd is not constantly loud, and there is no steady roar underneath everything.

More of a hum.

A Mongol reaches to interfere and the 30 fans closest to the ring lose their minds, then the rest of the crowd catches up in a wave.

People reacted because it was still real to them, dammit.

Then the match starts building tension between Cowboy Bob and Ernie.

Which would be more suspenseful had the previous segment not already told us exactly where this is going.

Eventually, Ernie has had enough of Bob’s shit.

What shit?

I assume the cow trunks.

The Big Cat is a man of style. He cannot be seen with Udder Ellis.

Ernie attacks him from behind and this has gone catawampus.

Very unfortunate.

Ernie then knocks Tommy Young down.

Tommy had this coming.

After what he allowed tonight, eventually the universe was going to settle the account.

George Cannon’s softball helmet also gets involved, and at this point I assume that thing is loaded with lead or Twix.

Meanwhile, the Mongols are on the apron watching all of this unfold.

Think about how batshit things have gotten here.

These two gentlemen are being presented as the Mongols, as in Genghis Khan Mongols.

These were not known for conflict resolution.

• Raping.

• Pillaging.

• Conquering most of the known world.

And these two assessed the situation and decided to head back to the Howard Johnson early.

Then Ernie gets near Rick Martin.

Absolutely not.

He’s an angel.

You cannot push Rick Martin.

The man is wearing a beautiful velvet tuxedo and a gigantic bow tie.

Listen, he needs this.

It counts toward his court ordered community service requirement.

By the end, Rizzo is trying to explain what happened and appears genuinely confused.

Same, Riz.

They disqualify “Ernie Ladd and Cowboy Bob Ellis.”

That counting as a loss for Bob is tough.

Tex seems genuinely distraught.

Now, at least, I understand why.

Match Score: 6.3

I had a good time!

I know this promotion is short lived, but I am 100% watching the rest of these now.

If you want a ridiculous trip into 1975 wrestling where everyone looks vaguely employed, the rules are mere suggestions, and Tex McKenzie could say virtually anything at any moment, I do not know what else you need.

Overall Score: 6.8

Actual average is 4.49. If this is an issue, go stand by the copier.