Your History is Incomplete without Terry Funk

For some, a run with the WWF is all you need, and he did that too.

WWE

The May 4, 1998 bout between Terry Funk and Mick Foley is barely about either man going in. As with most things in late 90s WWF, this segment is a lot more about Stone Cold Steve Austin. The WWF Champion at the time is the first person to make his entrance for the main event segment. He positions himself at the announce table and his voice accompanies the rest of the match, even against the best efforts of audio sabotage from who we can only assume is Mr. McMahon backstage.

That’s really the main story here. Austin’s out here to scope out one of his potential challengers in Foley. Meanwhile, Foley’s trying to prove a point that he’s worthy of a title shot by taking out someone who personally means a lot to him.

Not the most thrilling material in the world, and clearly in service more to Austin’s title reign than anything else. Beyond that, this also falls prey to the maximalist booking ideas of the Attitude Era. There’s a million different things going on here between Austin’s audio issues on commentary and Pat Patterson being the referee, it all reeks of Vince Russo’s incessant need to stimulate the senses and keep the viewers on the hook.

As for the match itself, it’s facing a bit of an uphill struggle. There’s all the issues I already discussed, but the main factor here is that Funk isn’t a massive figure to the 90s WWF audience. Those famously heated crowds don’t give the Funker much of a reaction here and the opening moments of the match struggle because of it.

But at the end of the day, it’s still Terry Funk and Mick Foley. That’s just an abundance of talent that can’t quite be contained, especially in this particular setting. What we’re given is a falls count anywhere match where Foley and the Funker drag an uninterested crowd into caring through sheer force of ambition and chaos. For this match, they’re drawing on their history of gimmick matches, a sanded down version of the things they did in the ECW Arena and Japan, but still enough to pack a punch.

A few things stand out early for the viewer, even if they don’t quite click with the crowd. In 2023, for example, those early chair shots to the head feel more impactful than they might have to a crowd in the 90s that had generally become desensitized to such a spot. It’s not quite clear on the broadcast but it’s possible that one of these chair shots also busts open Foley on the top of his head, which gives us a delightfully gruesome shot of his hair caked in blood. It’s only unfortunate that this color can’t run down his face and probably can’t register for the crowd in attendance.

The match really picks up when the action spills out into the crowd. There’s a section clearly prepared for action up in the stands where Funk and Foley get to brawl alongside some fun gimmickry like a hotdog stand, trash cans, and a table. Best part of it might be a pair of planted hotdog stand workers who take a thrashing from Foley, eliciting a great JR call of “The hotdog guy just got it!”

The peak of the match rightfully belongs to Terry Funk though. In the middle of that big brawl in the crowd, he climbs up onto an elevated section and dives off with a big moonsault onto Foley and some other warm bodies. Crooked Moonsault Funk is always an endearing sight, and it’s followed by a great sell from the Funker himself. Despite hitting the offensive maneuver, Funk puts over his advanced age compared to the competition with some pained howling about how the dive fucked up his neck.

It’s a great match by the end of it, a pretty indicative match of what the WWF’s brand of hardcore wrestling combined with Attitude Era booking looks like. As far as how it slots into Funk’s career goes, this match shows how dedicated Funk remained to elevating the next generations of workers that came after him. We already discussed that at length from the I Quit match with Flair, but against Mick Foley, Funk’s taking a decided backseat role that’s meant to do Foley all the favors. That’s all well and good, and it’s a nice little helping hand to get Foley to the pinnacle of the WWF in the years to come after this match.

But the real value of this match to me only comes from zooming out a bit further.

The victors get to write history, and as of 2023 in professional wrestling, the victors can be rightfully viewed as the WWE. For decades and decades now, the most accessible and disseminated narratives about what pro wrestling is, and who in its history matters, comes from the perspective of the WWE and their own history.

It may not seem like much, but Terry Funk playing a bit role in the chaotic tapestry of the Attitude Era secures his spot in the WWE’s history books. I know, it’s a place he should have rightfully earned at this point already, but here in the main event of Raw against one of the WWE’s most beloved stars, Terry Funk ensures that even the most uninterested and casual fan of the 90s will remember him, some way, somehow. There’s a certain type of fan that believes that only a run with the WWE can legitimize one’s career. That’s a braindead kind of argument, of course, but Terry Funk’s impervious to even that.

Funk’s greatness is idiot proof.

As with most good things, there were attempts to spoil this greatness for everyone. The WWF never really had the faith in Terry Funk as a star at any point in his career, certainly not in 1998 when his knees are shot and he’s post-ECW renaissance. But through sheer force of talent and through the relationships he made along the way, Terry Funk earns a seat at the table. Even the most sanitized version of pro wrestling history is incomplete without Terry Funk because he did everything.

It’s a term that gets thrown around constantly online these days, but in terms of legacy, few wrestlers were as truly undeniable as Terry Funk.

Rating: ****

WWE