The legend of the “Father of Funk” Wade Schalles
By Mike Chapman
According to Webster’s New World Dictionary, funky means unconventional or offbeat. In the wrestling world, many would add the words “exciting” and “entertaining.” So, as we head into another mat season, it got me to thinking about wrestlers who have used a funky style to great effect through the years. Names like Randy Lewis, Ben Askren and, lastly, Jax Forrest spring to mind.
But first came Wade Schalles. As a sophomore at Clarion State, he exploded onto the national scene in 1972, winning both the Div. II and Div. I NCAA titles at 150 pounds. In the latter event, he pinned Michigan star Jarrett Hubbard in the finals and was voted the meet’s O.W., the first sophomore to be so honored in 30 years. He moved up to 158 pounds the next season and won his second pair of titles, pinning four of his five opponents in Div. I.
He missed his senior season when he was ruled ineligible because he had wrestled a few matches as a freshman (that rule was soon changed). But his fame continued to grow. His college record was 156-5-2 with 106 pins — the most pins in Div. I history. And he competed in all styles available everywhere, winning national titles in freestyle, Greco-Roman, sombo and judo.
In 1976, he went to the legendary Tbilisi Tournament in Russia and won the 163-pound title by pinning all six foes, including three world champions.
“I just hit them with my backyard junk,” Wade said many years later with a big grin. “They had never seen wrestling like mine before. I think it was a shock to their system.”
It was called “funky” by most mat people back then.
“Wayne’s style of wrestling and ability to pin brought excitement to our state (of Pennsylvania) and the entire sport,” said John Purnell, a longtime businessman and promoter of wrestling. “He was captivating to watch.”
Writer Norm Palovcsik agreed: “Wade developed a gutsy, unorthodox, no-one-can-coach style that was fun to watch. He was a showman and the mat was his stage.”
And then he added a crucial point: “He also had the greatest hips you’ll ever see. And he had an uncanny sense of awareness and balance.”
Jim Duschen has been deeply involved in the sport for over half a century, as an All-American at Iowa State during the Dan Gable era, a two-time Greco-Roman national champion and World team member, and as a hall of fame coach in Henderson, Nev. He has attended over 50 NCAA tournaments and has a very high regard for Schalles’ impact on the sport.
“He was ahead of his time with what he was doing,” said Duschen. “It’s amazing how much the sport has changed through the years, and I feel Wade was a big part of that. You see a lot more scrambling today, and he was great at that. I think he opened a lot of eyes to the potential of what you can call funk.”
Here is Wade’s opinion: “My style was mine, most likely a mistake or possibly intuition but I have to give some credit to Rick Sanders. He and I used to meet each summer at Russ Houk’s summer camp and play ‘can you top this?’ I would share things with him and Rick with me. Two free spirits enjoying time together. I showed him my spladle, and he executed it in the Olympics in ’72.
Wade felt that he was an outcast in the wrestling world for many years for his unconventional approach to the sport but believes he helped change the sport to a large degree.
This season, Jax Forrest of Oklahoma State won the 133-pound title and impressed everyone, including the former Clarion star.
“Jax is a clone of what I believe I wrestled like,” said Wade. “Same body type, tall and rangy. He wrestles with a hunger and a ‘bring-it-on’ personality who’s not happy unless his opponent is bridging.
“He is the one I enjoyed the most, followed closely by Mesenbrink, who has Ben Askren written all over him. These two are the best, in my opinion.”
Wade points out that there is a huge difference in the amount of experience many young wrestlers today bring to their game.
“When I wrestled, between my junior high and high school years, I had less than 50 matches and none of them more than 50 miles away from home. No World Championships to go to, only one national championship in Worland, Wyoming, in my senior year. That was the first year for that event which became today’s Fargo after it was in Iowa City for about a dozen years.
“My point is these young athletes today are not freshmen as the word once meant; they are just enjoying their first year of collegiate wrestling. These top-of-the-line achievers, like Jax, have two or more world championship experiences under their belts, five to 10 national championships competed in and most likely evenings in collegiate practice rooms before stepping into a collegiate singlet. The word freshman doesn’t mean what it used to — wet behind the ears and untested.”
Here is how Wade explains his philosophy:
“For decades, amateur wrestling in America followed an unspoken rule: there was only one right way to wrestle — single-leg … double-leg … stand up … tight waist. Maybe a leg ride — if the athlete was feeling adventurous.
“Creativity was not encouraged. Any wrestler who stepped outside the rigid system was told, plainly and often, ‘That’s not how you win.’ Innovation was treated as rebellion. Unorthodox movement was viewed as recklessness. And those who dared to be different were shunned, reshaped, or run out.”
Then along came Wade Schalles. And everything began to change. Two of the most recognizable in the new style were Randy Lewis, who came to Iowa from South Dakota, and Ben Askren, who grew up in Wisconsin and did his college wresting at Missouri. Both excited fans with their funk approach and go-for-broke mentality.
“Until the late 1960s, wrestling was a sport of obedience,” adds Wade. “Coaches taught what their coaches taught them. Generations repeated the same positions, the same finishes, and the same beliefs about what was “correct.” Success was measured by conformity as much as by victory.
But Schalles didn’t just question the system — he ignored it. Instead of forcing his body into pre-set techniques, he asked questions that seemed almost heretical at the time.
“What if the style should match the wrestler instead of the reverse? What if flexibility mattered? What if angles beat brute force?”
Wade reminds me of Muhammad Ali. During his fabulous boxing career, Ali was criticized for doing many things wrong, like keeping his hands low, using a new type of footwork and, most of all, creating the rope-a-dope strategy.
“What if athletes began attacking from places and angles once considered reckless. Counters appeared that had never been taught before.” That was Schalles talking but it could have been Ali many years ago.
After his competition days ended, Schalles stayed active in the sport, serving as head coach at Clemson University, officiating college meets around the country, employed as a top wrestling leader at the AAU, and in demand at clinics.
He and his wife Deb now live in Florida, and he just finished his sixth novel, all of which can be found on Amazon, where they have gotten great reviews.
When people talk about the openness of wrestling today and how much the fans enjoy it, Wade was the one who put the fun in funky. He didn’t invent motion, but he changed the thinking that once tried to imprison it.
In 1991, he was inducted into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame, and his plaque reads thusly: “One of the most exciting and spectacular athletes of his time, Wade Schalles would wrestle anyone, anytime, anywhere, at any weight from 150 to 180 pounds, with odds of two to one that he would win by a fall.
“Nor was he particular about the style. Schalles was a national champion, or an All-American, in folkstyle, freestyle and Greco-Roman, and in the allied disciplines of sombo and judo.
“He earned a place in the Guinness Book of World Records as wrestling’s all-time leader in victories with 821, and in falls with 530. Schalles also was renowned for defeating 36 national champions, pinning 17 of them, and defeating eight World titlists. Each total is considered a record,”
And he is also considered by many to be “the Father of Funk.”






