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Forever Funk!

Posted: Aug 25th 2023 By: Mick Foley

It’s been a little over 24 hours since Terry Funk’s daughters shared with me the news that their legendary father had passed away. When his daughter Brandee’s caller ID came up on my phone, I had this immediate feeling that Terry had suffered a bad fall or something of that nature. Up until a few months ago, I don’t think I ever conceived the world without Terry Funk in it. He began his professional wrestling career in 1965, the same year that I was born– and he just seemed like someone who was always going to be here; someone who was somehow tougher than death itself. Even though I’d been fearing the worst for several weeks, the news still came as a shock. His daughters gave me permission to mention this terrible loss to the world, and I guess my post became the way that many of you found out about Terry‘s passing.

In the last couple hours, I kept coming back to a great George Jones song – 1985’s “Who’s Gonna Fill Their Shoes”, lamenting the loss (either past or future) of some of country music’s most iconic stars. Over and over I heard it in my head. Why, I wondered, was I stuck on a song from almost 40 years ago, one I have heard only a few times in the past handful of years. Then it hit me: I was thinking about Terry Funk. So when it comes to Terry, I will paraphrase George’s song just a tiny bit, and ask the question, Lord I wonder, who’s gonna fill his shoes?

Little did I know that the very first time I watched a Terry Funk match - back in 1986 on a VHS tape against Bruiser Brody in Tokyo - that this wild man with the best wrestling punch ever, would go on to play such a large role in my life. In time, he would become my idol, my mentor, and one of the very best friends I’ve ever known. My friend Brian Hildebrand (later known in Smoky Mountain and WCW as Marc Curtis) gave me the tape in the hope that it might improve my punches in the ring. But it did more than that for me. Far more. That Funk/Brody match was the epitome of the brawling style I enjoyed the most, and though I knew I could never have the presence of a Funk or a Brody, in time, through inspiration, borrowing and outright thievery, I became a pretty darned good Terry Funk rip-off. Jake Roberts once told me that “a wise man knows where to steal his material”. For wrestlers, old or new, you can do a whole lot worse than borrowing a thing or two from Terry Funk.

He was the greatest wrestler I have ever seen - and I’ve seen a lot of them. He is the foundation for my Mt Rushmore of wrestling. It wasn’t just the quality of his matches that earns him this accolade, but also his ability to reinvent himself as the years went by, to change styles, have good matches with just about anybody in any style, and to raise the profiles of those he shared the ring with. There were times he was in so much pain before matches that he could barely move, but he would find a way to steal shows through sheer force of will. In a business with its fair share of takers, Terry Funk was a giver, setting an example of unselfishness and professionalism for everyone who crossed his path. It was an example I tried my best to pay forward.

My wife was almost too upset to talk when I gave her the news yesterday. Later, in the day, she sent me a video, tears running down her cheeks, telling me how sorry she was, because she knew how much Terry meant to me. A few hours ago, she sent me a text message, reminiscing about the many hours I spent each day in our first apartment in 1990, with my eyes glued on our 13 inch TV screen, taking in those old Funk and Brody matches from Japan, in addition to just about every classic All Japan match (and a fair amount of New-Japan) of that era.

I met Terry in November, 1989, just a few weeks after his “I Quit” match with Ric Flair - still my favorite match of all-time. I had been completely enamored of Terry’s heel run in WCW in 1989, and to this day, I have never seen an individual just take over a TV show and seemingly make it his own, in such a short time. I was amazed to see the psychological transformation he underwent from his All-Japan days, where he was a blood and guts brawling babyface, winning over a stoic culture like that of 1980’s Japan by wearing his heart on his sleeve. Ignoring all the societal conventions of the day (both in Japan and in pro-wrestling) by weeping openly, by digging deeper into his own well of emotions than any wrestler I’d ever seen. Thousands of fans quote one of his most iconic All-Japan promos - a promo that consisted of one single word, repeated several times, each time with increasing intensity. Barry Blaustein, who became close with Terry during the filming of 1999’s “Beyond the May” told me Eddie Murphy, one of the biggest stars in the world, would walk around movie sets, just randomly quoting the promo, yelling that one word, “FOREVER” over and over.

But the Terry Funk I saw take over WCW in 1989 was not the Terry Funk from All-Japan from just a few years earlier. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve in WCW; he was heartless, remorseless, so believable in his onscreen hatred for Ric Flair, that I, along with many of his colleagues, wondered what was and wasn’t real. My deep dives into his Memphis feud with Jerry Lawler and his Florida feuds with Dusty Rhodes only deepened my belief that he was both the best babyface and best heel I’d ever seen. To see him throwing those big left hands at Lawler, squealing out the word “pig” with every punch he threw, then turning wild-eyed toward the Memphis crowd, set a bar for heel work so high that I’ve never seen anyone quite reach it. I tried and failed many times, even with my Funk inspired, borrowed and outright stolen bag of tricks.

I encourage all of you to delve into the Funk oeuvre over the next few weeks. It’s much easier now than it was in 1990, when I would wait weeks to receive a fifth generation VHS tape, and hope to catch as much action as I could amidst the squiggling, waving lines. Just go on YouTube, type in “Terry Funk” and prepare yourself to go down a magical rabbit hole. Watch the matches, experience the feuds, listen to the promos. It’s an experience you will recall for quite a while…maybe forever.

I wish I’d done a better job keeping in touch with Terry these past couple years. I visited any time my travels took me within a few hundred miles of Amarillo, and later Phoenix. He called me last summer when I was in my final hour at the C2E2 convention in Chicago, just a few hours before my flight to Australia. Terry, I’ll call you back as soon as I get to the airport”, I said. An hour later, I walked through airport security and realized I’d left my phone behind in the car-service. When I finally got my phone back a month later, Terry’s speech pattern was noticeably slower, more forgetful. My calls became fewer and farther between. I realized that in looking at Terry, I was quite possibly looking at my future self. The last time I saw him, in January 2023, he was no longer using a walker, but was instead confined to a wheelchair. His daughter Stacy told me he had good days and bad days. I’m so glad I caught him on a good day, when smiles and laughs were plentiful, and he was surrounded by family and a few close friends. The photo posted here is from that day…the final photo we’d ever take together. At the end of June, I saw photos from Terry’s birthday party. I pulled over and wept in my car. The toughest man I’d ever met was now so frail and weak.

About that time, Terry lost the ability to use his phone. So I told his daughter Stacy to start checking the mail, because I was going to write her dad a letter. A few days later, I sat by a river with my writing tablet and thanked Terry for everything he’d done for me, how profound his impact on my life had been. I told him that I loved him. Yesterday, when Terry’s daughter Brandee broke the news of his passing, she told me her dad had received my letter and that it made him cry. I’ll be eternally grateful for that time I spend by the river, writing that letter, knowing that I brought this amazing man some joy in his final days.
So, who’s gonna fill his shoes? My guess is that no one ever will. Terry Funk was one of a kind.

#RIPTerryFunk