Why I missed out on 'Mania (April 15, 2021)
On My Mind This Week
I’ve decided not to watch any of Wrestlemania this year. It’s not a particularly meaningful stand to make, but it’s my decision anyway.
When I was the editor of Fighting Spirit Magazine, I was obligated to watch Wrestlemania (and some parts of it twice) so that we could discuss it in detail in that issue and, because of its overall importance, really throughout the rest of the year. In 2020, the first year in 10 that I didn’t have to watch for professional reasons, I chose to take in only four matches - Becky Lynch vs. Shayna Baszler; Braun Strowman vs. Bill Goldberg; Charlotte Flair vs. Rhea Ripley; and Drew McIntyre’s double against Brock Lesnar and The Big Show - as well as the Boneyard Match, which I felt like I should watch just so that I could enjoy the subsequent discourse.
Since last year, WWE has pushed me even further from its product, with characters that are about as believable as a politician’s record of expenses. I have followed through on that increased disassociation by making time for only one wrestling news-driven podcast, the Voices of Wrestling Flagship, on a weekly basis. (I continue to listen to other related discussions, some of which are linked in the podcast section below.) Furthermore, I do not have a paid subscription to any of the major wrestling news sites, and while I do have a WWE Network subscription, it’s to watch pre-2001 wrestling (again, see the On My Screen… section).
The point is, I could have watched this year’s Wrestlemania - if I had wanted to. When I woke up on Sunday morning, one of the first things I did was check on how the show had fared given the storm forecast for Florida. Like last year, I was planning to watch a few matches, picking and choosing across both nights, but as I brewed some coffee, I came across the following tweet:
As anyone who follows my Twitter account (@hardcopyDOTie) will know, the camera switches are the bane of my WWE viewing existence, since they mean that you see so little of the contact in a show that, for me, is all about the contact. How am I supposed to feel sympathy for a babyface when I don’t see how hard he’s been struck? How can I get into his comeback if I can’t tell how much revenge he’s getting on the heel? How can there be any semblance of competition?
Can you imagine if the director switched angles both when Cristiano Ronaldo struck the ball, and when it hit the back of the net? Or if the same applied to Wayne Gretzky in the NHL? The idea of this is so ridiculous that it actually threatens to ruin the argument, but it’s something that, through sheer persistence, WWE has made almost invisible to its fans. It’s now so engrained that even All Elite Wrestling, which could massively benefit from correcting this flaw as part of its own programming, simply prefers to do it less egregiously.
Away from the cameras, I have no doubt that the matches on April 10-11 were examples of some of the best of the modern product, and I would’ve particularly liked to have seen Bianca Belair step up to Sasha Banks’ level in the main event of night one. Not even a peak Steve Austin could’ve made this horrid production worth watching, though, so I simply decided to take the smallest of stands and saved myself the bother this year.
As WWE viewing figures continue to plummet, I know I was not the only one.
Do not expect my decision, nor WWE’s dogma, to have changed come April 2022.
On My Screen This Week
You’ve likely noted that I’ve been watching a lot of Sean Waltman matches recently, particularly as The 1-2-3 Kid. Once again that’s because my son has been helping me pick out matches to review, and he’s quite taken with the gimmick, probably because the Kid is such a great underdog.
I actually had no recollection of this babyface match between he and Marty Jannetty from Raw in October 1993, which I found through a search on the ever-helpful Cagematch site. Likely on his fourth or fifth WWF firing by this stage, Jannetty was still in fine form in the ring, as was evidenced by his May 1993 classic with Shawn Michaels over the Intercontinental title.
There’s a really nice touch at the start of this bout, where Jannetty subtly complains about the amount of baby oil the Kid has on his person, making it difficult for Jannetty to get a grip on him. It doesn’t lead to anything, and it’s not a device to set either man up as a heel, but is simply a detail to add to their story, as some fine scientific wrestling quickly leads to bigger moves, such as ‘ranas and powerbombs, and even a missed cannonball splash from the top rope by the Kid.
After an astonishing piece of commentary in which Bobby Heenan wonders aloud about Bastion Booger being the father of Julia Roberts’ baby, Johnny Polo arrives, signalling that this isn’t just going to be an exciting wrestling showcase. Indeed, Polo soon trips the Kid and, after Jannetty accuses him of interference, the former Rocker gets a little more aggressive in the ring when the Kid tries to take advantage with a roll-up. Jannetty’s basic but effective psychology shines here.
Although it requires a referee bump to set it up, there then comes a very clever finish that elevates the Kid, Jannetty, and Polo a little higher than they had been. With Jannetty on the outside, the Kid bets it all on a cannonball dive over the top rope, only for Polo to push Jannetty into the ring post, causing the Kid to crash and burn on the blue ringside mat. This action causes a double count-out, but as an arrogant Polo is leaving the ringside area, Jannetty catches back up to him, and the babyfaces punish him in the ring before acknowledging the other’s ability in front of the crowd. (**3/4)
Kenta Kobashi & Kenta vs. Mitsuharu Misawa & Kotaro Suzuki (Pro Wrestling Noah; September 1, 2002)
The above video is the complete version of this Pro Wrestling Noah match, but I actually watched a clipped version from the Japanese TV broadcast. If you’re of a certain vintage, you’ll be used to that!
The mere pop for the Kobashi tag at the start of the match is why we recognise that stars are everything in wrestling. The anticipation for Kobashi to battle Misawa, even though they’ve faced one another scores of times in the past, is a thing of beauty, and the hesitance of both teams as they wait to see what the other has planned as a strategy is an underrated element of pro wrestling. Right away, Misawa’s skull-shaking elbows face Kobashi’s thunderous chops in a competition that grabs you simply because you can feel the contact.
At forty years old by this point, Misawa can still go, despite the years of punishment, striking Kobashi with a beautiful middle-rope topé. It’s Kobashi, however, who really gets sick with his offence, dumping Misawa on his shoulder and head with a sleeper suplex, a belly-to-back suplex, and a half-nelson suplex, all of which seem completely unnecessary in a contest that is designed to elevate the youngsters as the veterans’ protégés.
Indeed, it seems that those insane bumps are really just for pops, as Misawa is quickly back in the game, with surprisingly little selling, as he is again after he takes a massive superplex, again from Kobashi. To say it is overkill in the context of this match is to understate it enormously.
For their part, Kenta and Suzuki are easily in my top five favourite wrestlers of the 2000s, and when they get their moments against each other, they don’t waste them, significantly upping the speed of the bout without eschewing the hard hits. There’s a gorgeous, twisting second-rope Vader bomb from Suzuki here, and then a tremendous near-fall from a victory roll, before Kenta takes the pinfall with a high-angle German suplex.
Kenta and Suzuki would battle three weeks later on the Great Voyage card, while Misawa and Kobashi would hold off all the way to March 1, 2003, for a bout that was well worth the wait. This tag match was just a hint of what everyone had to offer. (***)
Genichiro Tenryu vs. KENTA (October 8, 2005)
Before you even click play on this match, you know what you’re going to get: the plucky youngster versus the remorseless veteran, in a bout alternating between the rapid and the deliberate. The only question remaining is whether this is a match to get the fresh-faced grappler to the next level, or to teach him another lesson first.
To be fair, the 24-year-old Kenta was already a big star in Pro Wrestling Noah by the time of this match. He’d already been a GHC junior-heavyweight Tag Team champion with Naomichi Marufuji (2003), the GHC junior-heavyweight champion (2005), and a Differ Cup winner (also with Marufuji in 2005). However, that doesn’t stop Tenryu going after him like he was a Sid Vicious squash match victim, bashing him with chairs and tables.
Kenta does get his shots in, with modern kicks and slaps that Tenryu couldn’t have been used to, but retaliation was never far away in the form of short, flick-of-the-wrist jabs that are brutal nonetheless. Kenta’s selling is tremendous for these, as he appears to be truly beaten up, and further vulnerable. Still, he manages flurries, such as with a nasty soccer kick and two stunning springboard dropkicks, before getting arguably his biggest moment, kicking out of a brianbuster for a superb near-fall. Still, a massive clothesline ended his evening after that.
Better things were yet to come for this generational talent, but he was ready for them in 2005, too. (***1/2)
WALTER vs. Tommaso Ciampa (WWE; April 7. 2021)
There were two Walter matches released on the world this week: this one, live at NXT Takeover: Stand & Deliver, and another from the NXT UK tapings, as he faced Rampage Brown. Knowing they were coming, I expected the latter to be the best of the pair, but it just so happened that I managed to get a chance to view this one first. I’ll review the Brown match in the next issue.
There were fine promos and a good story behind this grudge match, seen in an excellent hype video. (These pieces are often so good that I wonder why anyone bothers watching the TV shows in full.) Ciampa came to the ring with a fully shaved head, though he gave off a cool Necro Butcher vibe with his (lack of) hair growth in the promos.
I was slightly concerned that this was simply going to be Ciampa slotted into the typical Walter match layout, especially when the Austrian missed a chop in the corner as the first action. It just about got away from that, though, with Walter chopping the announcer’s desk when Ciampa got out of the way, although Wade Barrett remarking on commentary that Walter may have suffered a “broken metacarpal” came across as trying to sound clever while actually serving only to make the injury sound less significant.
Shortly after an apron bump from which Ciampa recovered all too quickly, he was running the ropes two dozen times to deliver clotheslines, as Walter tried to find inventive ways to stay in the firing line. Such nonsense might’ve taken me out of the match permanently, as could a blown armbar spot, but some beautifully rough stomps from Ciampa, and variations on the Emerald Frosien, including one from the second rope, brought me back into it. Another thing to do so was the best use of the neck twist (Ciampa’s head between Walter’s ankles before the crank) that I can remember seeing, given the context of Ciampa’s infamous neck troubles.
The finish was somewhat novel, coming immediately after a Walter chop, which in turn was preceded by Ciampa quickly getting to his feet following a sleeper suplex. While the chop ultimately ended the contest, barely selling the suplex was an awkward, unnecessary manner in which to set it up.
Still, this is a Wrestlemania weekend match that I have no hesitation in recommending. (***3/4)
Alex Volkanowski: My COVID story
At this stage, no-one should need educating on how seriously COVID-19 can attack the body, and being an elite athlete is no guarantee of avoiding the worst of the symptoms. Here, UFC featherweight champion Alex Volkanovski details why his March 27 title defence had to be cancelled after his COVID-19 diagnosis. With footage from his hospital bed and his hotel isolation period, it’s a compelling and at times terrifying story, told in his own words.
On My Podcast App This Week
I’ve linked to a freebie from the Pro Wrestling Torch archive here, but the episode I actually listened to was sent to me from behind the paywall, and included the eternally optimistic Alan Counihan’s (@Alan4L) scathing remarks on New Japan Pro Wrestling’s current output. While it is distressing to see Gedo’s group in such a flux, this is a great explanation of how this has happened.
Rich Kraetsch and Joe Lanza offer an entertaining take on the end of the rather anticlimactic Wednesday Night War, the future of Andrade, and the mess that is New Japan’s recent IWGP World heavyweight title lineage, as catch listeners up with the latest goings-on in Ring of Honor, too. This is a great way to stay on top of the news without being a slave to it.
On My Reading List This Week
In what he described to me as a piece he would have submitted for an edition of Fighting Spirit Magazine, Will Cooling published a lengthy article on Will Ospreay this week, in light of Ospreay becoming the IWGP World heavyweight champion. It’s a thought-provoking missive, which means that it’s an important read in context, given that Ospreay tends to inspire immediate, emotional reactions, not all of which are fair.
While it is unlikely to change that mindset - and does not specifically seek to do so, anyway - by bringing various parts of the Ospreay story together, Cooling lays both information and opinion out in digestible fashion, with clear context.
A few years ago, Ospreay’s victory would’ve been quite the special moment for British wrestling. This is the story of why it has only inspired derision.
I don’t find as much time to read books as I’d like to, so quite often I’ll find myself reaching for an audiobook edition if one is available. It just so happens that I finished one this week: Tim Hornbaker’s Death Of The Territories: Expansion, Betrayal And The War That Changed Pro Wrestling Forever.
Most people reading this will know about the territory system of pro wrestling, and the fact that Vince McMahon’s national expansion eventually saw them all go out of business. This detailed listen spends time with the territories across North America, offering a little history behind them and a lot more of how they reacted to McMahon going national after he purchased the World Wrestling Federation from his father in 1982.
Backing up the basics is excellent newspaper research, which offers a real feeling of completeness to the story, as does the extensive discussion of how television was key to getting McMahon the dominance he wanted. As the book fascinatingly explains, however, it wasn’t only McMahon who had his eyes on that prize, nor was he the only one with arrogance to breach territory lines.
The narrator of the audiobook, Kyle Tait, does have a slightly annoying habit of curling out his words at the end of each sentence, adding drama to everything until his doing so becomes meaningless. Still, I found this a pleasing, substantial listen, and there is, of course, the choice of reading the book in paperback.
On My Twitter Feed This Week
A Little Bit Of Housekeeping
I’m really interested in your feedback to the first several issues of Riffing On Wrestling. Please comment here or reach out to me at brian(at)hardcopy(dot)ie.
I am available for further editing and occasional writing work. I have credits for various international newspapers, news agencies, and websites, and also a decade of magazine editor’s experience. You can inquire about these, and my rates, by emailing brian(at)hardcopy(dot)ie. I can also provide professional editing feedback, or offer advice or mentoring, by prior agreement and through the same email address.