KERSTEN: KC WRESTLING LEGEND
(Newspaper article from 8/5/79) courtesy Manof1000holds

By Alan Hoskins

To wrestling fans throughout the midwest, there are no words more familiar than "Hel-lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o wrestling fans." Today, they no longer welcome viewers to the weekly All-Star Wrestling telecasts but the opening and Bill Kersten remain synonymous-just like "Holy Cow" and Harry Caray and "Dy-no-mite" and Jimmy Walker.

"Shortly after I took over as ring announcer they (wrestling officials) said they wanted something different, something catchy to start the show," Kersten recalls. And so the lengthy welcome was born. "I stopped about two or three years ago because they wanted to try something different," said Kersten. But nothing has matched the success of the drawn out "Hel-lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o wrestling fans."

Now as big a personality as some of the wrestlers that tangle each Thursday at Memorial Hall, there's seldom a day when Kersten is not greeted by the familiar refrain. "I guess I'm recognized practically every day, in shopping centers, movies, and so on," says Kersten. "I guess that's a sign of success. We've been on TV for 15 years every week, the longest running local TV show in Kansas City history." The weekly show is now televised into 17 states and will soon go on to San Francisco cable.

Born and raised in Kansas City, Kansas, his mother (Sarah) still lives on N. 28th and a daughter (Lori) will be a junior at Washington High School. Introduced to pro wrestling as a youngster by his father, Kersten went to work as an usher at Memorial Hall while a freshman at Bishop Ward. That was in 1947. Except for a couple of years in the service, he's worked wrestling continously ever since. He took over as ring announcer in 1956, following in the footsteps of Bill Grigsby, who left to broadcast games for the Kansas City A's, and Owen Bush, who left to join Desilu.

Never a wrestler in high school, Kersten did enter the ring twice - to battle the manager at Memorial Hall in what Kersten remembers was a real grudge match."There was definitely friction," said Kersten. "The referee in the match didn't see something so he asked me, since I was also the timekeeper. I told him what happened and the manager got upset with me. So we wrestled. I won one and lost one and they were sold out."

In thirty two years, Kersten has seen it all. Not only has he worked 51 matches a year at Memorial Hall, he's done the weekly telecast for the last fifteen years and for many years, traveled three or four times a week to surrounding cities-all in addition to a fulltime job with Kansas City Power and Light for 28 years. "I remember one night a fan in the fifth or sixth row was holding a small baby in his arms," said Kersten. "He got so excited that he threw the baby up in the air and it fell to the floor. It only suffered a bump or two."

He also vividly recalls the "battle royale" in which three matmen were picking on 7-5, 485-pound Andre The Giant. "They got out of the ropes and so did Andre to chase them," said Kersten. "About then, two other guys threw Mike George out of the ring. Andre saw him coming, caught him and threw him back over the top rope in one motion. And Mike weighed 250 pounds. He said he felt like he was a yo-yo." "Another time, Tarzan Kowalski, who was 6-9 and 280, was body slammed in the center ring. His opponent got on for the pin and Tarzan got his hands under him and threw him over the top rope into the second row."

As timekeeper, Kersten sometimes takes a little heat from fans when at the end of a match and a pin occur almost simulataneously. But he can't say enough about the fans. "They're the greatest sports fans in the world," he says. "I'd say there's about 1,000 regulars who turn out every week. It's kind of a wrestling family. And they go out of their way to help in charity cases. About $9,000 was donated to the leukemia fund. Wrestlers went into the audience for donations and sold kisses to raise funds."

While Kersten's work on the screen is most visible, it's his work behind the scenes that has the most impact. Because of his familiarity on TV, Kersten is in demand to talk to school classes and assemblies. It's there that the soft spoken Kersten hits hardest.

"I don't talk about wrestling per se," he says. "I hit on a lot of the hard things in life-drugs and things like that. I try to relate to the kids what I've personally seen. When I was a Jaycee, we had a pilot project where we'd ride in a police car all night. The drug situation is just as predominant now or more so than 10 years ago but it doesn't alarm people so much. But I've seen kids stoned out or screaming in pain and wanting to be put out but it couldn't be done. I've seen them with their eyes as big as golf balls." "I've been to prisons and I can relate to what's done in prison. Adopting a pattern in life ia also so important. In my day you could sift and drift. But now you almost have to know what you want to do by high school."

Kersten is also a frequent hospital visitor where he visits youngsters and passes out photos. "Everyone should visit a cancer ward," he says. "You learn about life and lack of life. And when someone goes, it's always a loss, even though you really didn't know them."

Kersten's work doesn't stop at the schools. He's also a volunteer American Heart instructor and he and his wife, Joanne, are both instructors in cardiopulmonary resuscitation. "When you have a vehicle, like wrestling, it enhances your opportunity to reach people," says Kersten. "I always remember an old saying when I was a Jaycee: Your duty to your community can not stop at your doorstop." "All I have to spend is time. And if I save just one kid from getting into trouble or ruined by drugs, it will have been worth every minute."