Last week wasn’t a fun one for any Terry Funk fan, but it was moving. I think that we all understand how important and influential Funk has been, but it’s still something to see such reminders. Wrestling’s best from yesterday, today and tomorrow sharing stories, sending support, showing love. Eddie Kingston even represented Funk on Dynamite, wearing his iconic shirt for the episode’s main event. That image in itself was a moment to consider but in the grand scheme of things, it was just another tribute on the list.
I think it was striking to see such a response for a range of reasons. Firstly, it’s true, all of it’s true, of course. There’s the WWE element of this too, or lack thereof I suppose. Now hold on, this isn’t a WWF = bad take, I promise. Instead, it’s just the reality of Funk’s career, far too epic to ever settle long in that particular system. Funk had his moments in WWE, no doubt but it was never truly home and as a result, Terry can only so climb high on the promotion’s internal list of titans.
That’s fine, no complaints here but even still, we all know how much the industry leader controls the narrative. Considering that, it was powerful to see Funk’s legacy still standing so strong. I think that’s a credit to his range of work in truth, which is perhaps Funk’s greatest case for GOAT status. Terry Funk was once the perfect pro wrestler, a textbook NWA Champion, even if a little wilder than most. That reign lasted 14 months but Funk was only just getting started, colouring increasingly outside of the industry’s lines, including an iconic feud with Jerry Lawler.
Funk was King in Japan, connecting to a degree that’s almost unparalleled. He earned a place in that audience’s hearts, one of All Japan Pro Wrestling’s most significant figures for over a decade. Funk first retired in 1983 and yet 24 years later, he was still doing the dance. It was a step or six slower of course and far less frequent but that was never disguised, instead just the never-ending story’s core ingredient. Funk evolved, finding a new career as an innovator of hardcore, the “middle-aged and crazy” wild man.
Along the way, Funk saw and un-saw many a farewell bout but to me at least, his constant comebacks never felt anything other than fitting. I didn’t find it sad to see a man much older than middle-aged getting back in there one more time, it always felt different with Funk. Through good health and bad, industry highs and lows, Terry Funk wrestles, it’s really that simple. In his first book, Mick Foley references Funk’s most unique, striking trait, one that in Mick’s mind, he only shares with Ric Flair.
As you’d expect, it’s their raw, natural passion or more specifically, the way that both would exude a true love for the wrestling industry. That quote re-emerged last week and it really is something, as anyone that’s watched Funk, young or old, can imagine exactly the image that Foley is describing. For me, it’s Funk putting the dukes up, throwing a (legitimately) stiff jab before with glee, staggering his way through the ropes to the floor, then swinging at a fan perhaps.
I’ll go one step further, I see Flair blistering Funk with chops to the chest, ‘The Funker’ soaking things up with sheer disdain on his face. For you, it may be FOREVER, possibly something a decade prior or after, maybe it’s even Chainsaw Charlie. The point is that whatever incarnation is the first to your mind, they all share that passion, they all share that love. It’s what makes his most insane in-ring antics bizarrely lovable, especially in hindsight. There’s a charm to Funk, a knowing respect for his unmatched resume and reputation.
Now, that’s easy in hindsight of course but best you can, embrace those moments in which one way or another, Funk is truly at the peak of his powers. Try to erase the rest, remove your respect and simply live in those singles settings. If you do, you’ll find Funk’s most staggering skill: his believability. This has been explained by men and women far more qualified than I but seriously, try your best to feel those thrills. There’s a commitment to Funk, regardless of disposition.
As the gritty hero, Funk made people believe and as the dangerous, almost frightening lunatic, Funk certainly made people believe. Anywhere between those extremes and it goes without saying, Funk forced folks to forget the truth of what they were watching. He was different, he was real, even when doing the most outlandish, outrageous things. That’s the beauty of Terry Funk, that’s the special sauce that cements his work as timeless. Every generation, another dipshit like me will fall in love with one piece of the puzzle, it’s just inevitable.
Wrestling With Takes 