The first time I met Gagne was a meeting about potential public relations work for him and the AWA. Although the TV show for years referred to AWA headquarters in Amarillo, Texas, the operation was based in the old Dyckman Hotel downtown. The commissioner was supposed to be some character named Stanley Blackburn but the guy who sat on the AWA throne was Gagne.
At the Dyckman we discussed my assignment which was to write a wrestling story for consumer publication. I soon realized that writing about the pre-determined business of pro wrestling and stating the facts could produce conflict. I was fresh out of journalism school and committed to fact finding, accuracy, fairness and objectivity.
Gagne had a different mindset and let’s put it this way: he didn’t like my story as much as I did. Our meeting reached an apex when either something I wrote or said questioned the legitimacy of pro wrestling. At that moment Gagne removed some of his artificial teeth, sort of an Exhibit A to prove that wrestling was if not real, at least dangerous and worthy of adulation.
Over the years I would occasionally see Gagne, and neither he nor I ever brought up my brief association with the AWA. Gagne was consistently affable and fun to be around. Friends and fans did consider him a champion, the kid from Corcoran, Minnesota who became a wrestler and football player at the U, then built a pro wrestling career and business that lasted for about four decades.
Gagne and his crew made professional wrestling special entertainment. I didn’t dare miss it.