80s Joshi on Wednesday: Tarantula! Mimi! Matsumoto! Yu! Chigusa! Lioness!

Volume 5     

11. Mimi Hagiwara vs. Tarantula (Double Retirement Match) 4/1/84 

K: Farewell to Mimi Hagiwara and Tarantula. Both of them were already getting phased out towards the end of 1983 for inevitable reasons; Tarantula had a recurring knee injury, and Mimi was 28. Tarantula had a memorable 18 month run in 1982 - mid 1983 teaming with Devil Masami, but Devil kept improving over time and Tarantula didn't, and before long she felt like the least interesting wrestler in the stable she was supposed to be the #2 in. 

Mimi is the bigger loss as it would have been great to see how she'd fit into new era that was emerging; she was a much more of a big sympathy selling babyface than anyone else on the roster. The closest wrestler to her was probably Noriyo Tateno, but she Noriyo was an every girl type whereas Mimi was a glamorous star, which brought a different dynamic to her matches. She had an elegant, aesthetically pleasing moveset which gelled well with her it girl presentation. After retiring she went on to marry Yoshitaka Matsunaga, the son of 60s Joshi wrestler Yuriko Amami and nephew of the AJW Matsunaga brothers (they had another brother who didn't work in wrestling). Tragically for her, she later discovered that she was unable to have children, possibly caused by injuries suffered from wrestler.

There's not much to say about the match itself. It was a 5 minute exhibition where they did all their signature moves one last time without there being much psychology to it, and of course it went to a time limit draw. It was cool to see Tarantula hit the double forward roll dropkick, but Mimi leapfrogged the 2nd one, but Tarantula countered that into a rollup. They both seemed happy enough in the retirement ceremony, didn't say much worth noting really. I did enjoy Devil very aggressively saying goodbye to Mimi on her way out though, half-expected her to give her one last caning. 

MD: What to say here? I think my single favorite wrestler in the footage so far is Mimi. Maybe she’s not as good as Jaguar or Devil, but I think it’s closer than rep would have it. In some ways, it’s a cheat. She was years older even if she wasn’t necessarily years more experienced. She had the acting background which she leveraged hard even in her early days in the ring, just one of the great sellers of, well, pro wrestling in general. Incredible expressiveness either while taking a beating or promising revenge on the floor. By 81-82 she really seemed to put the pieces together and she’s got a lot of “stuff,” tons of moves. 

I have less to say about Tarantula. She sort of falls off the scene (presumably due to knee injuries as they were building) and Yamazaki took her role with Devil in 83. But it was a good act, the two of them together. I half wonder why they couldn’t have cycled her in as the masked manager for Dump and co (well I think it’s Rossy, right, so I guess that’s why). She was credible and her rolls were better than most rolls in wrestling.

There’s an air of defiance here to start. Mimi had announced her retirement after a very cool Jaguar/Mimi vs Crush Gals match a couple of months before, but here she comes out wild, hitting the Mimi Special electric chair suplex twice and then a dive right to start. When they get back into the ring, Tarantula hits her rolling dropkick and a pretty clumsy roll into a sunset flip before things settle down. I sort of wanted one last flurry out of Mimi before the end but she’s mostly surviving Tarantula as the bell rings at the five or six minute mark to end the exhibition.

Post-match, Tarantula unmasks and they both speak to the crowd before walking through the other wrestlers. It’s sad but not quite as sad as some of the others we’ve seen so far. Mimi was older and Tarantula seemed happy to have her mask off and to show her face and at least they didn’t make them sing.

12. Chigusa Nagayo & Lioness Asuka vs. Dump Matsumoto & Masked Yu (WWWA Tag Team Titles #1 Contendership) 4/1/84

K: Firstly sorry for the appalling video quality. The story of this bit of footage is an anonymous account just uploaded it in this quality to DailyMotion one day, someone ripped it before the account disappeared, and no other copy of it has ever surfaced afaik. So if you're reading this and have a better quality version at home, GET IN CONTACT.

This is the first real Crush Gals vs. Dump & Minion match. Boy oh boy, the levels of heat here are unbelievable compared to the last time these same wrestlers had a tag match almost exactly a year prior. Dump & Masked Yu come out again with the Masked Manager and feel like the most hated heels ever. The Masked Manager starts acting all badass trying to threaten fans and the announce crew, but something about him is a bit off. His demeanour just isn't very intimidating and Dump is far more effective at this same stuff. I don't think he's a good addition to her act. The Crush Gals have their arms around each other playing best friends, looking like they're bracing themselves to go on a terrifying rollercoaster or something. If the intention here is more to portray a brutal mugging and assault than a wrestling match then, well you have to say they succeeded. There's no gradual buildup to tempers flaring until we reach the 'go to the outside and get thrown into chairs' segment, that just happens right at the start and it's a big brawl from then on with weapons being used. Dump has what looks like a metal pipe (I'm watching about 5 pixels of it so hard to tell) and tries the hide the object game in front of a referee who doesn't seem to be looking very hard.

The crowd is hot and constantly has this sound of outrage and anger in them, like they can't believe what they're seeing. We get some big A-SU-KA chants (she feels more over than Chigusa tonight)) when she puts up some fight against the onslaught, but it's all too much and after a couple of big Dump lariats and a questionable 3 count, she drops the first fall. After this Chigusa gets on the mic and does a big mid-match angry promo (one of her specialities), quality is too poor decipher what she's saying or what's being said by officials, but it results in the referee being replaced.

I think what makes these Dump matches work is how structurally subversive they are compared to the rest of the company, even the usual babyface vs. heel matches. You never know when an escalation is going to come, Dump can pull out anything at any moment and it doesn't need to be proportionate or specifically in retaliation for anything. She's just nuts. Her offense feels like extended cut-offs after cut-offs. If a lesser wrestler attempted to wrestler like this (not much need for an 'if' there, Dump inspired countless copycats) it wouldn't work at all, the matches would just feel like a mess. So why does it work with her? I think firstly, you can't understate how massively charismatic Dump is. Similar to how The Rock could pull off the goofiest lines just because it's him, Dump is so totally believable as an evil-incarnate maniac that her working such a chaotic style is just her fitting the part. I also think there is a little bit of unconventional structure in there, she has a up-down-up-down rhythm to her demonic behaviour, and times it well so that just as you start to think you've seen the worst of it, she pulls out some new unhinged shenanigans. 

The only way they could have made the heel team look more terrifying here would be to have them take 2 straight falls, but I guess they wanted to protect the Crush Gals a bit. So we get a DQ for the 2nd fall when the Masked Manager storms the ring and holds the babyfaces in place so his team can hit them with top rope moves (Dump hits a big top rope splash!), but since they made a big deal of changing the referees you can't really expect him to not DQ them for that. I think the Masked Manager gets ejected for this (though he comes back later), masked wrestlers have been very busy today, as right after the 3rd fall starts Asuka pulls out the scissors Dump used previously to cut Chigusa's hair (I believe that's the first time Dump used scissors) and cuts up Masked Yu's masked! And that's the end of her masked wrestler career. What a crazy scene. Asuka's fightback is for naught though, as she very unfortunately injures her own leg doing a giant swing (maybe UnMasked Yu was just too big for her), her and Chigusa get beat up badly some more (Chigusa is bleeding) and the referee just calls the match for the heels before even more chaos breaks out with the seconds getting involved. There are huge Devil chants (the fans pronounce it like 'DE-BI-RU") when she starts swinging. Dump actually backs down a bit when Devil gets in and they had an interesting staredown, Devil is not afraid of her, she just looks at her with disdain and Dump seems to defiantly look her in the eye and stare back but doesn't fight or anything. They have a unique bond going on. 

Heat, chaos, violence, injustice, camaraderie in face of it all. Great spectacle and match, you can tell at this point I think that the boom times are coming.

****1/4

MD: It’s funny. In watching the last few matches, I thought to myself that the conventional wisdom was off and surely the Devil/Dump angle was what set things on fire, because it was so hot and Devil turning was so impactful. There was so much meat on that bone. But this felt like them moving pieces three steps forward and it was the daring to hotshot so much that really put things over the top. So much happens here.

For one, the match starts with Asuka having her arm around Chigusa. I’m not saying they’re cowering but it didn’t look like she was holding Chigusa back either. It made them more relatable to the fans, somehow. It added a sense of dread. And then when things started, they didn’t let up. 

Dump and Yu steamrolled them. This introduced the scissors as a weapon. They won the first fall handedly. Then in the second, after Asuka tried to fight back, the Crush Gals got swept under again and the scissors started to be used to actually cut a slightly bloody Chigusa’s hair. It felt like a major escalation when things were still percolating with Devil. The manager came in to help hold the Crush Gals for these vertical splashes off the top from Yu and Dump and the DQ that followed felt like a mercy since Chigusa and Lioness were beaten. They’d get their revenge in the third fall though with Lioness hitting the giant swing and then using the scissors to unmask Yu (again, massive escalation; they just gave it away!). Everything devolved into absolute chaos with Dump and Yu having clear advantage, even as Devil finally came out (in her own color, blue, not the red of the babyfaces or the black of the heels). I think it ended up being thrown to Dump and Yu but it was hard to tell. I can tell you that at one point midway through trash was getting thrown in which we’ve never seen chronologically, not even in the era of the heel ref and the US invasion.

Again, they moved the ball three steps down the field here. The fear. The scissors. The haircut. The mask going off. Devil getting involved. The heels winning. Blood. It was a lot all at once but it clearly worked for them. One last note. The VQ was quite rough on this one, but by mid way through, given the violence and chaos and comeback, I had gotten acclimated and completely forgotten about it.

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Kingston vs. Tankman

Last Resort: A Tribute To Mark Wolf 11/1/26 (Catch it on IWTV)

Eddie Kingston vs. Calvin Tankman

MD: I could write a real nice review of this one. I could. Would be easy. Would basically write itself like so many Eddie Kingston matches do.

I should. This was the main event of the tribute show to Mark Wolf, a show celebrating IWA-Mid South. IWA Mid-South. Big and earnest and messy and over the top, giving you too much and not enough, and more than you could ever want and more than you could ever handle and rough around the edges with the spirit of Indie Wrestling.

I think maybe that this review might be a little rough around the edges too.

It's 2026. Eddie Kingston is 44 years old. Do you know what happens when you turn 40? Most people reading this won't. Even if you're in decent shape, everything becomes a little harder. You kick one foot over the other when getting out of bed. You jam your foot under the opened car door to help propel you out. Little tricks, little things. They help you move with the same speed and force that you used to. Some of it is just muscle memory, learning the best, most efficient way to do things.

Eddie had a horrific injury. A career ender maybe. And he came back from it. He's not the Eddie Kingston of 2010 or 2016 or 2021. He's not the Continental Crown winner. He's not. What? Am I going to lie about that? Yeah, we'll get that to lying bit in a minute. It's important.

But he's still Eddie Kingston.

There are so many different stories that we, as human beings, can explore in our art. Pro wrestling can tell so many stories. We've optimized a star rating system around the idea of "workrate." If you look back at the critical thought of the last 40 years, it's workrate that drives the discussion. 

How much motion? How much action? How many moves? How hot was the finishing stretch? How much did they pop the crowd? It clearly drives the Observer star ratings and it even anchored the DVDVR week to week reviews. They were Workrate reviews, in name if not in principle.  That was the counterculture to the counterculture and it was there too. 

No wonder we've landed where we have. 

And where we've landed is a world where there's no room for 2026 Eddie Kingston. Not in conventional wrestling criticism. 

"Fat, slow, out of shape, over the hill, broken down, unbelievable, Japanese cosplaying, impossible to work with, stubborn Eddie Kingston. He lacks "polish." Doesn't pass the airport test. No one wants to see a bum off the street."

That's what they see. That's what they claim. And if you were to go on about what makes Eddie great, to go on about what makes his matches special, and I am about to do that right now... they won't attack you on the points.

They will attack you on your intention. On how genuine you are. Best case? They'll say you're lying to yourself. Worst case? They'll say you're lying to everyone else.

And why is that? You ask me, and if you're reading this, then you're asking me. No one's making you. If you ask me, it's because they lack something. It's not a difference of opinion. It's an affliction. It's how they were conditioned. How they were raised as pro wrestling fans. How they exist in a society. What their incentives are. Their own insecurities. Those poor bastards.

So they think I'm a liar acting in bad faith and I think they're stunted and broken and lacking, and as such, they imagine anyone with an opinion they can't understand not as a starting point to grow and something new and wonderful to discover, but as a bad faith challenge to dogma and norms and the status quo, a status quo they find preferable and safe and secure.

Thankfully, however, even though I am swiping at them, I am not actually talking to them. 

I am talking to you, a reader (on paragraph 17 or what not) with curiosity still in your heart. I am going to paint a picture here, what I saw in watching this match, what I felt. 

Did I meet it halfway? No, I didn't have to. Did I meet it a quarter of the way? Good question. Maybe. Maybe I did. Did I do that out of bad faith? Did I do it to get clout? Did I do it for all the wrong reasons? I really don't think so. I think I did it because what I saw was worth taking a leap on, because I wanted to embrace it, and because to me, at this stage of my life, it was so damn easy to embrace. 

So.

Eddie Kingston. With at least some of the flaws and faults listed above, sure. 

Calvin Tankman. 

So many stories we can tell. Some of them are about decline. Some of them are about aging. Some of them are about being lost in the wilderness of middle age, of trying to figure out what it's all worth, of why you still do it. There's value in that. 

What happens when you spent your whole life loving wrestling, when it saved you, gave you everything, but also took so much away? What happens when you can no longer be the agitator pushing up against those who came before you but are now the one being pushed up against? What happens when everything which was so easy before is now a struggle?

That's interesting! That's compelling! You see so much of that in so many other forms of literature. In movies and plays and novels. It's human as hell. 

Pro wrestling is a narrative medium where two people push against one another using violence and technique, all held together by training and heart and sheer will. It's a game of human chess, and sometimes it can be more interesting when the chess pieces are dingy and chipped than if everything is sleek and perfect and shiny. 

If you look at Eddie Kingston's defining feuds of this decade, they were with peers, yes, but more than that, they were with people who were a few steps before him: Punk, Danielson, and to a degree, Claudio. They were about those people not seeing something in him, about those people leaving when he and everyone around them maybe needed them most. He had to find his own way through the darkness without them. They left him nothing but their own biased and harsh judgments. 

With Tankman, the roles were reversed. He was the one left behind. Eddie was the one questioning him, doubting him.

That's compelling as hell. 

The match starts with Eddie dancing around, cocky, playful, refusing to take this serious, or at least seeming as such. They lock up. They break clean. Eddie teases a cheapshot; no, he thinks about it. That's interesting. What's going on there? Is he holding back out of hidden regard for Tankman? Is he actually worried despite the bluster? Does he think he needs it? Has he grown past it? What's going on in his head? 

Also compelling as hell.

They break clean in the corner. Tankman claims to the world "No one's afraid of you Eddie."

Interesting claim, isn't it? Why that? Why then? There's dissonance at play. Tankman towers over Eddie. He's younger, faster, stronger, AND bigger. He has more to prove. He has more places to go. Eddie should be afraid of him.

But Tankman establishes as the starting point that people are supposed to be afraid of Eddie, that Eddie is considered someone to be afraid of, that Tankman, who towers over Eddie, should be afraid. That maybe he once was. (That maybe despite what he just said, maybe he should still be).

In framing it that way, in ceding that ground to Eddie, he gave him power, even as he claimed otherwise. 

And that is compelling as hell too. 

So, they haven't even done anything yet. They've just locked up. Eddie teased a punch. Tankman made a claim. And there's just so much to dig into here. We're as far away from conventional workrate as possible. 

We're also very far away from Sports Entertainment. This isn't some sort of navel-gazing self-referential bullshit. No one's pointing at a sign. No one's talking about entertaining people and putting smiles on faces or the WWE Universe. This is personal. Hurt feelings. Hard roads. The ghosts of the past and the realities of the present.

Early on, they trade shots, they eat shots. Tankman has more behind his but Eddie keeps coming. He tries for an exploder off the ropes. It's not a good idea, especially not this early. But he's not yet fighting against Tankman. He's fighting his own limitations. He'd told him it'd be an easy night.

Unsurprisingly, Tankman takes over. Wrestling isn’t math but sometimes it is. Size, youth, strength, more to prove to the world. Tankman revels in it, leaning on Eddie, trash talking him, shutting him up and loving every moment of it. 

And what we get is a sort of conventional structure. We have what looks to be a babyface working from underneath against a larger heel, with fiery hope spots and massive cutoffs.

But Tankman isn’t a conventional heel. He has a point. Maybe on paper, he’s the one that we should be rooting for. Maybe Eddie is that much of a monster, that much of a threat, that much of a boogeyman? Maybe Tankman’s enjoying this a little too much, reveling in it a little too much, but who could blame him? Still, those cutoffs? They’re huge. They’re babyface cutoffs really, a larger than life cross body block, a wild dive into the chairs (leaving Eddie next to a couple of Styrofoam concession containers, which is a weirdly perfect image post-dive). 

And Eddie, even though he has the crowd behind him, because it’s hard not for him to have the crowd behind him, isn’t a conventional babyface here. You’re rooting for him, sure, but maybe not rooting for him to beat Tankman. You’re rooting for him to get his shit together. You’re rooting for him to stop taking Tankman lightly. You’re rooting for him to clean up his act, to find some way to get past all this, to lean on other people, to listen when you chant his name, to accept that he’s not alone in this world and that it matters. And step one of that is to get back on his feet and fire back against Tankman. 

You can see all of this play out on Tankman’s face, see it play out on Eddie’s.

What critical language do we even have to discuss this? “Eddie worked well from underneath. He sold the leg well. Tankman kept things moving. His power moves looked impactful.” None of that cuts it. None of it.

What happened is that Eddie endured. He didn’t quit. For one more night, driven by pride, reminded by those chants, maybe even inspired by the fight Tankman brought to him, he kept getting up, kept kicking out, kept loving wrestling and let wrestling love him. 

He finally got Tankman over. It wasn’t an exploder, more like a waterwheel drop, but it was impressive as hell. He threw the Kobashi chops. He dropped the strap and went for the Urakens. Tankman didn’t make it easy. Nothing seemed easy. Everything looked like a struggle. At one point towards the end, they were trudging through mud and time seemed to stop between blows. 

And yeah, maybe, just maybe, that’s the moment where I leaned in a bit myself, just that 25% where I had to meet them, because given the story, given the truth that they were portraying, the very human truth, I found it worth it. Maybe I did it without thinking. Maybe I just felt. Maybe I felt something worth feeling. Maybe I took a breath and let go and stopped worrying about things like “execution” and left my own decades of having “workrate” ingrained in my head fall to the wayside like I have gotten so good at doing these last few years. 

They were working hard. Clearly. They were rolling boulders up mountains and there was pathos and drama to every push. What good is a word if it can’t encapsulate its own literal meaning? 

Pro wrestling is about minimizing the gap between seeing and feeling. And yeah, sometimes that means everything happening is crisp and clear and as fast as possible, to make it all look easy for the wrestlers, like they are gods and not men. But sometimes, it means making things feel as hard as they actually are, even harder. And there is room for both in pro wrestling. And there are stories that can be told with both. 

Tankman had more to prove, but Eddie? Eddie literally can’t stop. He’s a shark. He’s an older shark, a beat up shark, even a depressed shark maybe, a sad shark, but he’s still a shark, and if he stops, that’s it. If he stops, he doesn’t start again, so he can’t stop. 

He can’t stop and he kept swinging and he hit the DDT and won, and he gave Tankman his respect and he talked about Mark Wolf and IWA and all the people he lost and he told us all to hug the people we love and I don’t want to write this paragraph anymore, so I’m going to stop it and bring this thing to a close.

There are people who are going to read this review and point and laugh. Ivory towers (trust me, a pro wrestling discord is not an ivory anything, nor is it a tower). And they can. That’s the prerogative. Me? I’m going to pity those people. That’s mine.

I don’t want you, reading this, to do either, not to laugh or to pity. I want you to be past all that. We do it so you don't have to. You can do something better. You can be something better. I want you to go and watch this match, and at least try to feel some of the things I felt here, to let yourself go and give in and watch their faces and feel the weight of life and human emotion that they are dragging behind them, to be impressed that they somehow made it to the end despite all that. 

No, look, I don’t even want you to feel the same things I was feeling, but to figure out how it makes you feel instead. If we agree, great. If not, that’s great too. But I want you to open yourself up to that, and celebrate the possibilities of pro wrestling. Don’t let yourself put everything in one tiny box or another. Celebrate that this match happened. Explore the possibilities of the person, and people, and company that it was remembering, the entire messy, ugly, insane tradition of indie wrestling, raw and human, and ridiculous and deranged and beautiful. 

Because it’s all right there on the mat or at the VFW hall or Rec Center or Flea Market or just on your screen. When it’s worth it, when it’s really worth it, you just have to let go and meet it where it is.

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Tuesdays with Daddy: Week 10: vs. Giant Haystacks

Week 10

Big Daddy vs. Giant Haystacks 6/18/81

MD: Here’s a big one. We’re in Wembley Arena for the Final Showdown Match. I like how Daddy has these “Knockdown” matches which are ten count KOs. They’re sort of his signature gimmick. I had to laugh out loud to start because after Haystacks comes out, they cut all the way to the back and Big Daddy’s dressing room, and he comes out like Goldberg! I know I made the comparison weeks ago, and here he’s got the whole entrance, except for instead of pyro and sparks, they have a little girl mascot, the Rev. Michael Brooks (a Methodist preacher who was a pro wrestler and was his second here), and a majorette spinning her baton.

The music plays, and I’ve not really talked about it as of yet. It’s We Shall not be Moved and doesn’t that sum him up so well? It’s all part of the act and it all came together. There were fans with little banners saying it. Everyone was singing it, and guess what? Daddy was singing it too. I honestly think that’s so important. He has fans slapping him on the back as he comes down or putting their arms around him in solidarity, and he’s singing right along with them. He’s letting them know it’s ok to let go and sing along. He’s doing it. They can do it too. They don’t have to be self-conscious. They don’t have to hold back. They can sing. They can cheer. They can feel secure and enjoy themselves.

They can chant. He sings and he’s the one, almost always, that starts the reassuring, triumphant, safe chants of “Easy! Easy!” He does it right in Haystacks’ face as they start, pointing his finger at him and looking to the crowd to do it. There’s nothing to worry about. Big Daddy’s there to fight the good fight. He’s there to win for them and for England, maybe during years where they don’t feel like they have much to celebrate. He’s there to give them something. This matters. He’s working the crowd, but he’s also there for them in all the ways that matter. He’s giving them something real in exchange for their time, their money, their belief, their adulation. Wrestling is all so often the art of making something out of nothing, but the something he’s making is so valuable, and so much of it, as I’ve noted before, is because he lets himself be just a little vulnerable but never too vulnerable. But he lets himself be emotionally vulnerable too. He’s wearing the silly hat, bedazzled, a big larger than life blowhard in some ways. He’s putting it all out there and that encourages the fans to do the same. It matters. Wrestlers today could learn so much from really watching him and how he carries himself and how he relates to the fans and what he gives them. So much. I have in just these ten matches. 

This was a clash of the titans, the clash to end all clashes. Daddy moved with his usual energy, raring to go, driving right in. They locked up to no effect. Haystacks tried a head vice but Daddy walked him to the corner. The first body check was inconclusive. Then, without warning, Daddy burst across the ring with a great looking running shot to the top of Haystacks head that sent him reeling into the ropes. On the subsequent check, disaster struck. Daddy crashed Haystacks into the corner but the referee was an unfortunate casualty of the impact. 

Daddy landed a few more shots, but, because of who he was and what he represented, he disengaged to check on the ref. That let Haystacks start in on him, and now there was a real, if momentary, sense of danger. Remember, the crowd is used to these matches ending very quickly. It wouldn’t take much. If Haystacks hit a splash that would be it, and he was stomping away at Daddy. A second ref came in and delayed him momentarily, so when he did go for that splash, Daddy was able to move. 

You could almost hear the sigh of relief come over the crowd. It was almost (almost) impressive how quickly Daddy got up. He was basically hulking up, the first time I’ve seen him do so, but instead of pointing at Haystacks, he raised his hands up, exasperated at the villain’s pluck and temerity. How dare he take such liberties? The fans were ready for what was to come. Daddy charged right in. I will say this. Maybe it’s an optical illusion but these Wembley Arena matches look to have a slightly bigger ring than usual and that takes away from the big boom whips and Daddy being able to cross the ring as quickly. 

Here, that didn’t matter much though, because now Daddy was moving Haystacks with the body checks, and he made one last mighty charge while Haystacks was in the ropes, and he bumped into a pile of bouquets outside the ring. The count came quickly and he was unable to beat it, though he was quick to complain that the mat was slippery, perhaps foreshadowing that the Final Showdown was not that final after all. 

And Daddy? He grabbed the mic and shouted “We Will Not Be Moved” before welcoming the fans, his family, his friends, his brethren, his countrymen, into his world once more to be equal and valued citizens, by starting the “Easy! Easy!” chant. And of course, all of Wembley Arena, truly his people, chanted right along.

ER: This is hands down one of the greatest under 3 minute matches in wrestling history, and I think the fact that it's a culturally important match puts it in the conversation for Greatest 3 minute match. I love the  concept of a gigantic - literal and figurative - main event as a molten hot burn out, instead of our mythic warriors getting tempted into the lengthy Epic that many associate with a big drawing main event. There's always a temptation to go long, so the match rises to the occasion. An actual dream match - the literal biggest match and not just two workers who have never fought before - needs to feel like the culmination of something. Maybe the thinking is that people will feel ripped off without getting More from a legendary showdown. There were fears about the same thing in boxing and MMA, the idea that people would be upset if Tyson murdered someone one combo into a PPV main event. 

Matt rightly compares Big Daddy to Goldberg, but of course Goldberg wisely used short dynamic violent squashes to build his character, never as his main event style. It wouldn't have flown. People expect more. Thinking back on the night my buddy James and I watched Goldberg beat Hogan, his mom's phone ringing off the hook as our friend Mike excitedly called asking us if we were watching, I remember it as sudden, conclusive. It felt like Goldberg came in, hit the Spear, Georgia Dome losing their heads as Goldberg stuck out his tongue for the cameras. But that match was 3x as long as the most legendary singles match in British wrestling history, not the Ultimate Warrior/Honky Tonk Man foregone conclusive blink it felt like.  

That's why this match stands alone in so many ways. This was the match everyone in Britain wanted to see, the match millions watched on a Saturday afternoon at their nans or aunties'. This was Godzilla vs. Rodan, a battle of the two biggest icons. This is Hogan vs. Andre at The Main Event, for a different people, We Shall Overcome, Daddy inventing The Goldberg Entrance 17 years early. There is no better impacts in any Daddy match. Every collision with Haystacks means something, every one feels bigger and escalating, and we finally get an actual feeling of Daddy being in danger. Daddy typically takes as long to knock any man over as many tries as it takes an owl to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop. Nobody has stayed standing after three collisions, no man has the size and presence of Haystacks. Daddy's belly isn't the weapon here that it is in literally every other match. It gives us a flesh rubbing, belly to belly grinding lock up, both gripping the other at the sides like they're working with invisible mawashi. 

Daddy has to use every weapon at his disposal, throwing arms and smashing Haystacks. A clubbing elbow sends Haystacks flying full weight into the ropes like Andre, crazy lean, full trust. Haystacks employing a big man visual like that would have made him a legendary monster in any territory. Giant Baba knocking him into the ropes like that with a boot, an Inoki enziguiri sending him leaning, it would have been shown on career highlight reels for decades. When Daddy got knocked into the ropes, I let out an involuntary whoaaOOOAAAAA like I was watching a car start to slide down a cliff. They use this spectacular moment to set up another, training us to expect the same the next time Haystacks is knocked into the ropes, none of us expecting his arm to swing out and catch the referee. When Daddy is down checking on the ref - something he does on instinct, forgetting the match to help his fellow man - Haystacks rains a club down onto Daddy's shoulders that actually sends Britain's hero sprawling. They expertly created a situation where Daddy was vulnerable but not due to personal weakness; he was vulnerable because his attention had been taken up by helping the downtrodden. It's the first time we've seen Daddy on the mat because someone sent him there, only possible because he cared. 

The finish couldn't be better. Haystacks keeps getting slammed into until he flies over the ropes to the floor faster than you've ever seen someone his size (of which there are not many) hit a floor. It has to be seen to be believed. It looks amazing. It looks impossible. It looks like something that would believably keep a man down for a (fast) 10 count. It feels like triumph. A monster truly needs to be toppled, and this was the literal only time a match gave us reason to doubt Daddy would topple this Biggest Monster. Nobody had any questions after, it was all orange squash and chippy supper. Easy. Easy. 

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AEW Five Fingers of Death (and Friends) 11/2 - 11/8

AEW Collision 11/7/26

Death Riders (Jon Moxley/Gabe Kidd/Daniel Garcia) vs Shane Taylor Promotions (Shane Taylor/Carlie Bravo/Shawn Dean)

MD: Just a couple of things I want to cover with this one.

First, let's talk about the STP vs Death Riders deal. I know some people are frustrated that STP never get anything over on them. They might get in a back stage beatdown or a post-match one. They might make some big challenges. During the matches themselves, they'll control over the break, but they never actually get a win in this 'feud.' They never move up the hierarchy.

I sort of see it like this. STP is the baseline that the Death Riders find themselves up against on a Saturday night. They're the people who, when the story starts, the Death Riders are fighting. The Death Riders are Spider-Man and they're the Shocker that he's webbing up when something bigger unveil around them. They're the bullies that are causing the protagonist trouble at the start of the story. By the end of the story, the protagonist is going to save the world from a magical apocalyptic threat. They're the established team that the ragtag group of kids have to come together to beat in a baseball/hockey game. The thing is, that's just the first move, and in the second movie the kids, banded together, are now fighting bigger teams for the championships. They're the season 1 villains in a shonen anime. It's just that we're on to season six now. Maybe they're the strongest earth has to offer but we've had five seasons of invaders from space. The thing is, in season seven, you'll get that one episode where they have to pull it together and hold down the fort as heroes against bigger threats. 

They're big fish in a small pond and small fish in a big pond. Having them around creates a sense of normalcy so you can get something like Mercedes and the Cut beating down the Death Riders post-match. If TV was just going to play out week in and week out in the fabricated fictional sports-driven world of AEW, the Death Riders would be spending their Saturdays fighting STP. That's just how it'd work out. Each week STP would come up with a new scheme or plan or plot or strategy to get the Death Riders and it'd just barely fail each time. It'd play in syndication. 

This time around? An ambush right at the start. It didn't work. Gabe Kidd, who as a babyface is dangerously close to George the Animal Steele (but then George the Animal Steele was over! Sometimes people forget that; the Vault just released a five minute match from Houston where he faces Tiger Chung Lee; it's five minutes, go back and watch it.) fired back almost immediately with headbutts in the corner. 

Then Danny Garcia started throwing belly-to-back suplexes.

This is the other thing I want to talk about.

Meaning in pro wrestling is primarily artificial. This is its inherent advantage over real spots and real life. It's up to the company, the wrestlers, and the commentary to decide what to highlight, what to accentuated, what to downplay, what to stress. Any move can be the most or least important thing in the world dependent upon it framed. 

Granted, some things are easier or harder to make matter. Blood is powerful because we all relate to blood. Titles are easy props because we understand trophies and winning. Just winning and losing should be easier to make matter than, let's say, the heart punch or the cobra. Some of these things might have been easier before MMA came around and some things (Rear Naked Chokes for one) might be easier after, but all it takes it consistent reinforcement and total commitment from wrestlers and anything can be made to matter.

Here's something that used to matter a lot more: belly-to-back suplexes. It's the biggest transition move there is in 1980s New Japan. Saito and Choshu would turn matches around over and over again with the Saito suplex. All it took was one headlock hefted up and the whole world would turn around. Likewise when the more dangerous variation started to be used at the turn of the 90s. 

Now? More a dime a dozen. 

But if a wrestler portrays himself as caring about something and if becomes something worth achieving, then it, like anything else in wrestling, can be made to matter.

Garcia got swept under because after hitting belly-to-back suplexes on Bravo and Dean, he tried to throw the far more massive Shane Taylor the same way. Taylor shut him down and STP took over on him. 

And suddenly, Garcia established that there was a mountain worth moving, an obstacle worth overcoming. Through the effort and the failure, suplexing Taylor was granted narrative worth. The protagonist tried and failed. Now, not only did he have to fight back from the enemy corner, but he had to make it back to his feet to try again. Hitting a belly-to-back suplex is not inherently compelling to an audience, but by making it a mountain to climb (and move) and by tying it to Garcia's fall and subsequent rise, it became compelling.

Garcia fought his way back and yes, to the shock and delight of everyone watching, he hit the suplex, earning his salvation, redeeming himself, overcoming, making his own comeback and claiming the tag as his own. 

The Death Riders followed it up with their endless clotheslines in the corner on Taylor. This led directly into the finish as Taylor, having regained control, went away from STP's usual clubbering tactics and demanded that they do their own clotheslines in turn. That let Mox slip and catch Taylor with a cutter, the beginning of the end. While it wasn't as potent or powerful as the belly-to-back, it was another example of established meaning, this time leading Taylor to make a fatal mistake. 

Another Saturday night for the Death Riders and STP. Another battle between lopsided forces where meaning can be found nonetheless. Maybe it's not as satisfying as it could be. Maybe it doesn't have the forward momentum and elevation one might want. But we need baselines. We need established norms. And within those norms, some very good pro wrestling can still happen.

And you know what? I do believe that some day we will get to season seven, and on that day, it's going to be STP's time to hold the fort and save the world. Until then, they'll be there week in and week out to fight the good fight like only they can.

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Found Footage Friday: ANDRE IN GERMANY~! OTTO~! GLAMOUR BOY~! TAKA~! ESSA~!

Andre the Giant vs. Otto Wanz Austria 7/5/86

PS: Just big budget main event professional wrestling, Wanz is the rotund folk hero taking on a menacing monstrous ogre. This really doesn't have some of the comedy and pratfalling you normally see from heel Andre, especially late period heel Andre like this, there is some real darkness here, menacing the ref, grinding at Wanz tearing at his limbs. Otto is on the back foot for most of this match, this is a round system match and he often feels saved by the bell, but times his big clubbing comebacks well and when both guys are firing shots at each other it feels like a heavyweight boxing match. Otto gets the big body slam at the end, but we don't get the expected catharsis, which I imagined is saved for their rematch the next year. A true Clash of the Titans, and an absolute gem.

MD: We had a rough VQ version of about 3/5th of this. Now we have the full thing, plus a documentary/news bit beforehand. It is a hell of a thing. It's a 35-40 minute match with round breaks with 1986 Andre. That makes it one of the longest Andre matches we have on tape from any year. Those round breaks weren't super restful either as they kept at it during some of them and they weren't particularly long (though they were quite musical as always).

Andre came to the ring looking absolutely miserable. And why? Because the crowd loved Otto Wanz more than life itself and wanted to let him know it. Andre just wanted to be loved. He wanted to be respected. He didn't want to be seen as a monster. But the crowd loved Otto over him and during the anthems and after, he was a surly presence. You could see the pathos and misery on his face. 

This was a minimalist dream, but it was also as over the top and larger than life as possible. Andre, mobile or not, was a giant He did not have to be mobile to create emotion and action. Otto was huge, perhaps more agile, incredibly strong, but how could he do anything against Andre? He was fighting a mountain and he, himself, was only a grand hill.

The first few rounds were just Andre going from one hold to the next. Against a man like Wanz, he could do a cobra clutch and it would feel like one, not just like some sort of distorted bearhug of a head. He did a double wristlock which had some heft and technique to it because Otto was someone he couldn't fully envelop. Eventually, at a round break, Otto might get on a front facelock but then the horn would blow and the fans would have to continue to wait.

Andre might have striked first with massive blows, but that was just to build to the moment where Otto finally rears back and hammers him and the crowd explodes. It took three or four rounds but that just built the tension and pressure. Andre got himself caught in the ropes and Otto finally unloaded to absolutely elation from the audience. 

It's perfect pro wrestling, pro wrestling that works exactly as it's supposed to with figures that couldn't exist anywhere else knowing exactly how much to give to create the greatest sort of emotive chemistry that could possibly exist in front of a live audience. It's beautiful stuff. 

Otto did his damage, and in a normal match maybe things would head towards a finish but here it just opened it up. Andre was too big. He was a lumbering menace. He was too strong. He could just fall on Otto and get a hold just like that. A smaller opponent might have been able to scurry away or avoid the falling tree, but Otto's own size, usually his greatest strength, worked against him here.

They'd get back up, would throw more blows, would move through rounds. If standing equal, Andre could throw a headbutt or lock holds on him, but Otto was able to fire back, to beat him into the ropes, through them, against the turnbuckle. 

Finally, he knocked Andre off the ropes and somehow, miraculously, amazingly, slammed him and hit his flip senton. He went for a splash but Andre got his foot up and pinned him just like that. Watch this. Listen to the crowd. See how Andre and Otto build to the big moments and how they pay them off. Watch the wrestlers' faces. Imagine how such giant visages might reach the last row. We'll never see their likes again, but thankfully this footage reached us, even if it took decades to do so, and now we'll have it and the memory of it forever.

Taka Michinoku/Sho Funaki vs. Andy Anderson/Glamour Boy (Shane) WWF 7/31/01

MD: Two dark matches before a Smackdown. Look, I get this was the end of a relatively hot period, with the Invasion about to follow from the Austin turn and cool everything down (we can blame Hunter too; it's always fun to blame Hunter), but listen to that pop Kaientai gets for being the first names out. Shrieks. Screams. Stars. The dubbing EVIL bit was what it was (and we know what it was) but it was pretty over. They were clearly having a lot of fun with it, just from the way Funaki and TAKA were looking at each other. They even cut a little promo on Glamor Boy so that was a nice touch for a dark match.

I don't know if the buzz lasted into the match itself. The dynamics were weird though. TAKA had insulted the crowd, but in a "laugh with me" sort of way. Funaki clearly worked babyface with Anderson and Shane feeding for him and then working face-in-peril. TAKA worked heel, like he was a slightly more lithe Mr. Fuji, full of antics. Anderson and Shane had some nice double teams (a Rockerplex suplex/flying body press combo, a double Russian Leg Sweep). TAKA reverted back to his old self to take the hot tag and the stretch had just a little taste of Kaientai's combo stuff. Shane actually got a ton fo heat post-match (not that it did him much good). Good for him though. 

ER: It's pretty wild how long they let the Kaientai dubbing mic work go during a tryout match, I had no memory of it being as over as it actually was. I remember people buzzing when Funaki would start running his mouth before the Indeed! but didn't realize it was over enough to let them stretch out material during dark matches. 

But the big takeaway was how good Shane and Anderson look, two guys who were either signed but thrown into partner territory Puerto Rico, or just constantly on WWF's radar but never used. Andy Anderson was a talented WWF style worker with WWF size who they should have been more interested in using. Shane was one of our greatest bump and feed guys of the era, moving like he was from the territories when that kind of style was becoming less common, and all his basics looked good enough to pass mustard in the territories. He's a guy who knew how to set up cut off spots for team control, knew exactly how to feed when tides turned, knew how to get heat while being a complete unknown. All Shane and Anderson did all match was get heat. Look at how well Anderson and Taka milked their chop exchange spot, with Anderson finally landing a loud echoing thus that dropped Taka to his knees holding his chest. Shane weirdly got bigger reactions from just drawing simple heat than he did breaking out some truly impressive big sound offense. A big impact rydeen bomb for a nearfall was met with silence, but simple heel cut off spots always got a reaction, and his cutoffs were all so good. A sharp back elbow to take over, or a double clothesline with true ambidextrous power, just cutting through Kaientai like butter. 

The finish was real fun, with Anderson taking a big unnecessary backdrop bump to the floor to isolate Shane, smacking his palms on the apron loudly as he fell, getting a big reaction for his sleight of hand. We've all seen guys pretend to smash their face on the apron while just smacking their hands, but Anderson did it so clean that it clearly made people think he smashed face. Shane sells Funaki's facebuster bulldog as well as anyone I've seen, scuffling around the ring holds his mouth and nose, and I love that he stuck around after losing to the Michinoku Driver. Everyone else was long gone and Glamour Boy just hung around getting heat alone in the ring for way too long, and it worked! 

Essa Rios vs. Julio Dinero WWF 7/31/01

MD: Maybe it was just a game crowd because Dinero got heat too. Though people probably had a slightly better sense who he was. Maybe not since Rios got a pop. Fans were happy to be there. 

I don't remember Rios going face again after the Lita stuff but then him still being around in 2001 feels like a surprise in general. Apparently he's gone 4 matches later in August, so there you go.

This is not long but they fit a lot in without it seeming weightless. Rios has a nice handstand on the ropes to counter something early but he eats an anti-air dropkick. Dinero has a goofy but effective sort of cazadora into the bottom turnbuckle, a big spin kick, and a really nice knee drop onto a bent elbow. Rios comes back in a less than compelling way with a small package transition and gets the 450 (big pop) for the win. Fun few minutes. Didn't do Dinero much good either I guess.  

ER: I'd never thought much of Julio Sanchez as a worker. I used to complain all the time to friends that ECW was using guys like Chris Hamrick and Cham Pain as managers while I had to endure Julio Dinero matches. I've softened on him a bit since, after enjoying his earlier work in 1997 WCW. Before starting my book project I didn't know he worked around 10 matches on weekend WCW TV, predating when I first read about him in PWI. He was one of those guys PWI championed in those years, like Reckless Youth and Mike Quackenbush and uhhh Earl the Pearl. I think he was more a victim of high expectation and people expecting him to be more of a highflyer than he actually was. He's a hispanic coded wrestler who doesn't actually speak Spanish or work anything like a luchador, but he's good at being Julio Dinero. 

That didn't matter, as fans also reacted to him silently, the way fans traditionally reacted to Julio Sanchez. He and Rios could not buy a reaction and I don't know why. You could hear squeals of delight during Essa Rios's entrance, actual women excited that Essa Rios was on the card. As an avid 2001 WWF Metal viewer, I too was very familiar with and excited for 2001 Essa Rios matches, so I understand. Those reactions disappeared once they were actually wrestling, which I guess is in line with so many years of Only React to Entrance and Finish WWF fans. There was plenty they did that should have gotten a reaction. They did a funny long missed elbowdrop drop sequence, Essa got flipped to the apron and went as high as humanly possible while still landing safely on the apron, there was a cool Dinero rolling headscissors that sent Rios into the bottom buckle, all met with silence. No ooohs, no ahhhhs. They made noise for a missed Dinero moonsault and would have been in a coma had they not reacted to Essa's 450, but this deserved more love. The squeals for Rios returned as he walked back up the ramp. Maybe all his female fans were just sitting by the entrance. 

 

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80s Joshi on Wednesday: Masami! Yamazaki! Matsumoto! Yu!

Volume 5    

10. Devil Masami & Itsuki Yamazaki vs. Dump Matsumoto & Masked Yu 3/17/84

K:Last week we covered the implosion of Devil Legion so this is the follow up to the angle. I don't think we've seen a hotter AJW crowd since Jackie Sato retired. Dump Matsumoto & Crane Yu come out to Mami Kumano's old theme (not the only Mami Kumano hallmark to return tonight) and have with them a mysterious masked figure known only as "The Masked Manager", whose unexplained presence seems to alarm the commentary team. Perhaps a bigger conspiracy is afoot here than Devil Masami prepared for? Well, the superheels don't even get introduced as they just ambush Devil and Itsuki immediately. There's a poetic bookend where Dump Matsumoto chokes Devil from behind with a chain reminiscent of when she turned on her after the 2/28 match, and Itsuki can't intervene as the Masked Manager has pulled her out of the ring.

All feels like Devil has underestimated her former underlings. There's a lot of Black Pair style face-scrunching from Masked Yu, which Devil retaliates to by trying to pull off Yu's mask but gets jumped by Dump pretty soon afterwards. They just don't let Devil build any sort of momentum on offense, and Itsuki is never able to put up much of a fight even in a 1 vs 1 anyway. But the superheels don't really try to isolate her much, they're very keen to fight Devil. Their mission in this match is to knock their former leader off her perch, by any means necessary.

And outside of kayfabe, a mission of this match is to get Dump's lariat over. It's her main destructive weapon here, and when Devil gets hit by one, she sells her throat to make it feel extra dangerous.

As we come close to the finish of the 1st fall, the spirit of Mami Kumano returns when Dump pulls out a wrench to go to work on her former stablemates. It takes a cool sequence of team moves from Devil & Itsuki (including a dropkick off Devil's shoulders) for them to earn a very hard-fought 1-0 that felt like a great heated match just on its own. Going behind just seems to increase Dump's evil power though. I thought Itsuki did a brilliant sell of actual horror here, where she's trapped in the corner and Dump arrogantly struts over to go beat her up. It made Dump feel more like a slasher villain than just a heel wrestler. It's the first time I remember anyone treating Dump like that. Masked Yu takes a brilliant flying bump into the chairs from Devil btw just before, but the focus is on Itsuki here as Dump now has her in the chain, Devil runs over after taking out Yu to try save her but she's unable to, partly because the referee in "trying" to stop Dump using the chain kept getting in Devil's way... Itsuki then gets hit with a Dump lariat, and she's hurt so badly that the commissioner rules she cannot be allowed to continue and is dragged to the outside screaming in protest while the crowd is livid. 

So this match is part of the lineage of big dramatic tags that end in someone having to fight 1 vs. 2. 7/31/79, 1/4/82, 6/14/83 and now 3/17/84. The twist with this one though is the intervention of the Masked Manager threatens to make it a 1 vs. 3, but then the Crush Gals run in, and they get Dump, Yu and the Masked One in triple submissions for some big pops. This is really effective in how it presents the crowd with a seemingly hopeless situation, but quickly spins it into a big babyface hope moment and makes them believe for the big action that's the follow (the fall isn't long). Devil, not one to play by Queensberry Rules in a fight like this, has pulled out her bokken. Dump & Yu attack her with, I think, metal crates, and Devil swings her bokken at both of them like once in scenes that surely inspired the 1 vs. 2 lightsabre dual in Star Wars Episode 1. But after the crate attack fails, Dump is able to take down Devil by once again deploying the choke-with-a-chain-from-behind manoeuvre. Poignant. Devil is dragged to the outside, chained to the ringpost, and Team Dump get the cheap win by countout just before Devil's able to untie herself. Dirty.

True to her character, Devil doesn't take this loss well and starts whacking everyone around her on the head with a chair and in particular destroys the Masked Manager. I'm not a fan of the referee kinda no-selling Devil's chairshot (he gets up like 2 seconds later), but that's a minor complaint.

This was a brilliant brawl. If the 2/28 angle was effective in setting up Dump as a new villain even more evil than Devil Masami, this match has established her as a real threat to everyone. The upgrade in her aura just the last couple of months is staggering. She had some charisma already and her offense was good enough, but you never got much of a clue she had it in her to drive crowds crazy like she did almost throughout the entire match. I'm talking about her as she was the narrative focal point, but the other three also had great performances here and gave us at least 1 memorable moment. The promotion feels very shaken up and an exciting place to be.

****1/4


MD: Part of the joy of all of this for me is that I have no idea what’s coming. I have a general sense of certain things, but when it comes to when things happen and even what happens? Well, that’s why I’m actually putting in the legwork. 

From this one data point alone (contrasted with every data point I’ve seen before this, which is pretty close to all footage that we have of AJW up until now; even if we don’t cover everything, I try to catch as much as I can in the margins), this was a massive turning point. The Dump/Devil angle, combined with the shifting crowd demographics, which between January and March seems to have become a tidal shift, created a scenario where this is the loudest, most engaged crowd we’ve seen in years. 

Dump and Yu come out with a masked manager type figure with a white sportsjacket. Masami and Yamazaki are surprised to see her and she immediately gets involved, grabbing Yamazaki so they can double team Devil. Crowd is hot for this and hates it immediately. When Devil comes back, they love it just as much. First fall ends in chaos as Dump uses an object, Yamazaki accidentally hits a flying body press on Devil, and Dump accidentally hits Yu with the box. You got the sense that even with the weapons, if it was a fair fight, Devil and Yamazaki might be able to win it. Second fall introduced the chain more directly which let Dump and Yu take out Yamazaki. Fans were all over the ref here. 

It was wild stuff and Yamazaki had to get taken to the back. It looked like it was going to be two on one, or even three on one, and Devil went to fight with her sword. Then the Crush Gals came out to even the odds and the place went nuts (popped me too, I will admit, as I wasn’t expecting them) with Devil, Chigusa, and Lioness all locking in simultaneous submissions. Everything got way over the top and in the chaos, Devil got counted out and Dump stole a victory leading to even more chaos post-match. Talk about heating up a territory. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a switch flipped quite like this. I guess the comparison points would be Hogan in January 1984 and then again at Bash at the Beach. Like I said, I enjoyed 83 AJW a lot, but even in the big Devil vs Jaguar match or the Galactica apuestas match, the crowds weren’t like this. Not even close.

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Tuesdays with Daddy: Week 9: w/Sayama vs. Stuart/Vladimir

Week 9

Big Daddy/Sammy Lee (Sayama) vs. Mal Stuart/Grand Vladimir 1/24/81

MD: Time for a tag with Sayama, and against our old friend from the French and German footage, Grand Vladimir. Stuart had a bit of a Matt Lucas thing going on. This is an electric scene. Daddy, clad in gold, hat on head, comes out not just with Sammy dressed like Bruce Lee in the yellow tracksuit, but with the 21st Wolverhampton Boys Brigade Marching Band. The crowd was singing before he made it out. Once he does, he kisses old ladies with canes, shakes women’s hands, gives thumbs up to young men, hugs children, kisses a baby, the whole nine yards. It’s amazing. It’s surreal. He doesn’t have quite the same personal interaction with the fans a couple of years later, not like this, not from what I’ve seen, but here it’s very giving and very engaging. Everyone gets to feel like they’re part of this movement, like they’re seen, like they’re moving together in one direction. It has that small town Portland type feel to it but still seems larger than life. You have to imagine this was more what it was like when Andre came to Portland, but Daddy was one of their own; maybe instead like when Piper came back to Portland later on in the 80s after he became a national star. 

Daddy was more aggressive than usual to start. I’m blaming it on Vlad being billed as a Frenchman maybe. He’s very active. He’s moving around the ring, antsy, ready to lock up. When they break, he slaps his chest and comes right back in for more. He’s giving the crowd something to latch on to, something to believe in. He sticks his chest out to absorb Vlad’s blows and downs him with one of his own. This time, when he gets in a top wristlock, he slams him right down. There would be peril but it would be on Sammy later. This was pure shine.

And of course, Sammy gets to shine too. Kicks from angles you wouldn’t expect, both in general and to get out of holds like a full nelson. He turned a Stuart shin breaker into a sunset flip. And yes, he locked on the headlock and did the hyper-rotation into a toehold. Daddy’s reactions here are great. He knew what he had in this partner and he was happy to share the spotlight. He gawked along at first and then after Sayama rides Mal and after he returns a cheapshot with a series of karate strikes and his step off backflip in the corner, Daddy leads the crowd in a big clapping cheer for Sayama. All rise together.

After that came the danger. Stuart got a headlock and another cheapshot. He moved Sayama to the ropes so Vlad could get a piece. Daddy burst into the ring and complained. Again, I don’t see him doing that part of the act quite as much a few years later as he does here, earlier on, but it was incredibly effective. He cares, so the fans care, even if it means he might get a public warning. Here, he didn’t draw that, but he did draw a woman out of the crowd to rush up to ringside and complain too. That’s such a key to his act. He is engaged. He’s not coasting. There’s not workrate involved necessarily, but there is working, and he is working with every opportunity he gets.

Vlad came in and put on the cobra clutch. Not sure if it was an illegal hold or if Sammy went out and the ref wanted to end the fall, but Vlad refused to let go. Regardless, he got a second public warning and Daddy came charging in again. Vlad ended up arguing with the ref which let Sayama crawl to the tag. Vlad turned around to eat a slam and a splash to end the fall. Second fall had Daddy run across the ring with an awesome punch on Vlad (it looked great truly), and then toss Stuart groin first to the turnbuckle. Sammy came in with dropkicks and a tilt a whirl and Daddy was quick to rush to congratulate him and raise his hand while people around ringside slapped the mat.

Pretty effective stuff overall, with Daddy a bit more driven and angry from the get go here. Then he didn't just sit back and let Sayama shine but he really leaned into putting Sayama over in his own way. He’s been engaged in all of the footage I’ve seen so far, but the 79-82 stuff maybe has him just a bit more engaged in how he interacts with the fans and bursts into the ring and it does help things, though the fans do seem hot for him all the way to the end.

ER: So this is far and away the best Big Daddy match we've written about. It's the most complete match, and it has the most Normal Match ebb and flow, as in it feels like an actual tag match and not entirely a Big Daddy match. I don't intend to say that the best Big Daddy match is also the match least like a Big Daddy match, even thought that's not untrue. It has the most variety of Daddy spots and an actual build in Big Daddy's aggression and attack. The fans actually seemed honest to god worried about Le Grand Vladimir. A woman attacks Vlad in this match, which is the kind of fan aggression we have never seen before at a Big Daddy event. The whole thing is a scene, the kind of match that would have been on the DVDVR 80s England set if we had done one of those (did we do one of those in the years I've foolishly spent away from message boards?) and finished in the bottom 25%, but everyone would have been really excited that a Daddy match made the set. I always got excited for the guys who only showed up in one or two matches on an 80s set. The Memphis set was better for having a couple Nightmare Freddy matches on it, even though I'm sure there was a Dream Machine match that could have finished last instead. People would love seeing Bog Daddy teaming with a wrestling Hall of Famer who he couldn't have physically less in common with. 

This is simple, well crafted, crowd pleasing wrestling. People hated Vladimir, a wrestler I don't think I'd even heard about until we started writing about German wrestling from my birth year. They hated Vlad so much that this might be the mythical concern for Daddy's losing that Matt has been seeking. Daddy is still never in trouble, but the match appears to be in trouble enough for Daddy to come in and start throwing elbows. Sayama shows up in a fed where all the wrestlers move differently than any other wrestling in the world, and delights the crowd on sight by moving differently than any other wrestler anywhere in the world. Vladimir actually chokes Sayama OUT and walks away from his body cold. It led to an incredible camera moment, as we're in tight on Vlad as he may have just murdered a foreigner, and we cut back to a wide shot in time to see Daddy in frame elbowing the life out of Vlad. Daddy hits him with the first big standing splash that actually looked like he wanted to hurt someone. This was an aggressive Daddy match, an exciting Sayama match, an incredible Heel Vlad match, and Mal Stuart flies balls first into a turnbuckle. That's on the set. Everyone should watch this.  

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AEW Five Fingers of Death (and Friends) 10/26 - 11/1

AEW Collision 10/31/26

Adam Priest vs Konosuke Takeshita

MD: On paper this was a cold match. That's actually rare for AEW, despite what the grifters will tell you. Almost always, if someone's on TV, it's either stems from something that happened or is meant to heat them up for a match/program right around the corner. In general almost everything is coming from somewhere or going somewhere.

Of course, it's okay if it doesn't (and maybe Takeshita ends up on Full Gear out of nowhere, but it's ok if he doesn't). Wrestling for the sake of wrestling is lovely, a joy, and there are pieces that can be set up that pay off down the line. You put a star in front of a crowd and let them be a star and it can be of its own use. AEW is a matchmaker's promotion. It just is. It's just that people search for anything to cling onto with their complaining (which then blurs the actual issues). 

This was also a taped Collision (and fairly deep into the taping) that was going to air on a very rare Saturday night Halloween (next one will be 2037). I was out with the kids or just getting back. We never, ever talk about ratings here, but it's probably going to score a low one. No one's fault. It's here for the people who go back for it though. Once something makes tape, it's always out there for you to find. 

And we've gone over this before, but just because something doesn't have plot on the way in or out doesn't mean there isn't story either. There is intrinsic story. 

Takeshita has not had a good few months in character. He lost the International title in August, wasn't able to reclaim it at All In, didn't repeat his previous G1 success, and while he qualified for Clockwork Carnage, he was eliminated before the scoring round.

Giving him a well earned win against a game opponent is only ever a good thing. As a character, he wanted and needed a win.

Adam Priest was punching above his weight class, literally, but as a character (and a wrestler) he knows every match is an opportunity. 

He's a remarkable pro wrestler. In a lot of ways, I think pro wrestling is almost more biased against heavyweights in 2026, as crazy as that sounds, but even despite that, Priest is a guy who doesn't necessarily pass the airport test. That means he needs to be better than everyone around him to even place and have a spot. It means he has to work twice as hard. It means he has to wrestle twice as smart. It means he has to do literally everything right just to prove he belongs there. It's not fair but pro wrestling isn't fair no matter how much some people want it to be. 

It's a damn good thing he's capable of all that and more then. 

Takeshita is, on the other hand, a natural talent, a natural star. He's larger than life, endlessly dynamic. He towers over many of his opponents, powerful and lithe, agile and spirted. When it comes to physicality, he's a modern day Barry Windham who you would believe could just roll out of bed and work sixty minutes. In-ring, he's very opponent dependent. The wrong opponent will bring out his worst maximalist instincts and preferences (people will pop anyway but a pop isn't everything, believe it or not, and some don't; that's fine as I doubt most of those people made it to this paragraph anyway). The right opponent will have endless opportunities to create magic. 

Adam Priest, even in an 8 minute TV match, was the right opponent. 

Story starts with character and attributes and those were fairly clear. It was basically this. How was Priest going to try to solve the problem of Takeshita and how would Takeshita respond?

Almost immediately, Priest dove at him with a trip attempt on a drop down, but Takeshita isn't a normal opponent and he was able to bound over. He asserted himself, took control, but Priest refused to simply give him anything. Almost any other opponent would go with a whip, maybe helpless not to, maybe not wanting to use up energy when there was a chance for opportunity off the ropes. Not Priest, he jammed the Irish Whip and came back at Takeshita. He hit under the arm, went high and low and high again. He landed a dropkick and got Takeshita to the floor. He broke the count and then came in with a low shot to the gut. The problem was he had to keep on Konosuke and all it took was one sidestep and one shot to turn things around. In this case, it was a DDT.

A funny thing happened back in the ring though. The fans started to clap up Priest. Takeshita is charismatic. He jumps off the screen. He reaches the back row with his mannerisms and offense. But Priest, despite being maybe the most natural heel of the decade on the indies, is undeniable in his effort. He kept coming, kept trying, kept fighting, and even though St. Louis is real far from Alabama, he struck a chord with the people through his efforts. They got behind him. He clenched his fist in a chinlock and worked his way up. 

He tried a dragonscrew in the ropes, but Takeshita was too much. So he adapted, bending the leg over the other way and dropkicking it. That changed everything. Now it became about Priest being laser focused on getting his half crab. Takeshita was still able to utilize power and momentum to get him up, but once he got him up, the knee buckled and he couldn't put him down. Priest escaped by the skin of his teeth again and again, getting opportunities, capitalizing on them, but just not able to put Takeshita down.

And you have to put Takeshita down, because damaged leg (and strong, emotive selling) or no, there's just too much fight fueling too big an engine. He's portrayed as the ultimate hybrid mix of power, intensity, and skill, and these things catalyze one another. Priest survived a comeback flurry to manage a clutch, desperate backslide, but Takeshita rolled through it and landed a knee. Maybe he needed to pull Priest into the Raging Fire. Maybe his knee was hurt enough that he couldn't do it without that extra bit of motion and momentum, but Priest, by that point, was already out on his feet. Maybe he would have been able to kick out like he had for the Blue Thunder Bomb, because damn it if there wasn't plenty of spirit in Priest too, but maybe too, for Takeshita, it was a matter of pride. He had been wounded and he would show Priest, the crowd, the world, that he could fight through that and win on his own terms. 

Regardless, win he did, but in a way where both wrestlers probably came out stronger, and where Priest could rest easy knowing that despite it all, the crowd has gotten behind him in the end. To me, that's more important than any airport test. It's proof right before our eyes. 

So a cold match? Maybe, but it was one with a strong enough story to heat up not just both wrestlers but the crowd as well.

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Found Footage Friday: YOKOZUNA 2000~! DOOGAN~! FANTASTICS~! BROWN SUGAR~! DOC~! GILBERT~! DIBIASE~! HERCULES~!

Eddie Gilbert/Ricky Morton vs. Stan Lane/Sweet Brown Sugar Memphis 1981 

MD: I have no idea how we didn't have this already but we didn't have this already. Gilbert and Morton. This has to be fall of 81. It's an expiration of time match where the team that gets the most falls wins, which is a great gimmick for TV, though it may not work today in a world where they stay with matches until they're over, I guess. 

What surprised me a bit is how they didn't go wild with the gimmick actually. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Both sides worked so hard to prevent pinfalls, maybe even more so than usual. We only get the first two falls of this but that's over 20 minutes of very good stuff. Lane fed and stooged like a champ. Then Koko would come in and do something awesome that made him look like one of the best wrestlers in the world. He had one up and over into a dropkick followed by a confident swagger that was picture perfect. Later on he'd hit an Alabama Jam that was not perfect but that was still pretty wild nonetheless. These are puzzle pieces (and you could put Gibson or Eaton or Rich or a lot of the other usual suspects int here and it'd all just work) and they fit together nicely. Morton's stuff was more majestic and sweeping than Gilbert's but he wasn't at all out of place with armdrags and what have you.

After a lot of escalation and saves, Morton lost the first fall by stumbling on rope running which let Lane get the better of him. After Gilbert worked face in peril in the second fall and they got a hot tag, Moton put his head down (it felt like a callback) but he caught the foot and forced them to toss him over the top for the DQ. That's where the segment ends though. Without a finish, it becomes wrestling for wrestling's sake, but the wrestling is very good so I'm not going to complain.

ER: When I saw we were writing about this match, I immediately recognized this exact pairing from the DVDVR 80s Memphis set. Is this the same match? Loss and Bix apparently don't think so, and I last watched that match a few times when we were actually doing that set (so basically 20 years ago?). It feels odd there would be a different match with very similar stips, that aired on television (since we had all the television I believe), but if this match has been out of circulation for that long then it's well worth talking about here, if only to discuss the full thick swept back non-canon head of hair on Ricky. Ricky looks like a Nashville session bassist while Eddie Gilbert looks like a 14 year old who hit his growth spurt before his classmates. 

Everything in the match was class, with a slow start that kept ramping up pace, every basic exchange looking rock solid. It's that sturdy base that hooks me in and rewards the viewer once they build to bigger spots, like Koko's top rope fistdrop he drills square from 3/4 across the ring (his Alabama Jam is an illusion that looks great...until you realize we saw it from the camera angle that reveals it actually missed Eddie Gilbert completely). The SMILE on Koko's face after crushing that fistdrop brought a smile just as wide to my face. Stan Lane had a fine handle on cutting off Gilbert, loved his hooking kicks that nobody else was throwing in 1981. Even in Japan you were just barely seeing juniors throwing sweeping high kicks so seeing Sweet Stan kick Gilbert across the face on a Saturday morning must have been a trip. When it turns into a punch out between Koko and Gilbert, they are better punches than you will see anywhere in wrestling. In Memphis, maybe they were top 10 on the roster, it's tough when there are 30 great punchers. But damn these were great. Koko rears back and punches Gilbert straight in the teeth, Gilbert throws a beaut dropping down to a knee, there are at least six that made me skip back and watch again. 

The studio crowd, as always, made this special, as it's the perfect mix of kids, women, black people, and old people. You get women's screams for Eddie and Ricky, but also tiny kid screams at everything that happens, an energy that is incomparable. Was it the punches that got us all to fall in love with Memphis, or was it the punches scored to a chorus of the best kinds of wrestling fans who also wanted to see those punches? Yes. 

Hacksaw Jim Duggan/Fantastics vs. Ted Dibiase/Dr. Death Steve Williams/Hercules Hernandez Mid-South 10/28/84

MD: New house show Mid-South popping up is a gift. We will take it. Nice tease at the start here as Duggan and Dibiase do a little rope running, but Ted stops as Jim's about to slug him and takes a powder instead. Then he tags Doc right in. Just a tease. Duggan was electric here, throwing punches hitting a cross body, hyping the crowd, waving his fists, high fiving the Fantastics. He had a shoulder block war with Hercules ending in an atomic drop that took out all the heels at once, which led to crazy brawling and more atomic drops. Then the Fantastics came in and clowned Herc and Doc for a while. Fans loved every second of it.

Doc took over with a hairpull on Fulton and then a pretty nice punch for his experience level. Fans hated that. Good face-in-peril with Fulton working up from lots of holds only to get taken out by the numbers game. Finish was a little weird as Duggan finally has enough and charges in and in the chaos that follows Rogers gets cheapshotted by Doc and pinned by Herc. They never actually got to the hot tag though. I see this as cosmic justice for the babyfaces swarming like they did. Past that (and even with it) this was a lot of fun.

ER: I assume this was filmed professionally by a ringside camera, for purposes of having footage to show a highlight of on television. We get the full complete match, filmed in a way that feels like we're among the people. This is the ideal way to experience wrestling. Being surrounded by a hot crowd with no commentary keeping us from what the people want to see and feel. A lively environment where you can see 20 minutes of essentially punching and hope spots a couple well-timed flash pins, and the only noise you hear is the thrilling screams of the witnesses. I'm happy we got an opening shot down the entrance aisle, setting the scene by showing a woman there with her three (four, five?) children who all appear to be under the age of five. One of them was a baby and one of them looked exactly like me when I was three, in the exact same year I was three. My mother took me to see Sesame Street Live when I was a couple years older, but they kept the existence of live pro wrestling in our area a secret from me. This Louisiana boy was watching Ted Dibiase fistdrops without being able to even describe what it was he was seeing. 

This is the easiest kind of wrestling to feast on for 20 minutes. The action is constant and the energy is omnipresent. Jim Duggan is a force, a babyface god who looks like the most standing tall fighting hero. the Fantastics are undersized men in with linebackers and play their roles to the letter, everything they manage to hit is fought for, properly sold, and delivered craftily. The people understand the simple stories being told, the learned behaviors. When Bobby Fulton gets tossed high with a back body drop, it's the cleanest story in the world to witness Dibiase drop his head for another, only for Bobby to pull off a lightning fast dramatic 2 count on an inside cradle. They all understand the value of not hitting everything perfectly clean, because a bit of messiness makes wrestling better. Bobby Fulton shouldn't be hitting clean crossbody blocks on Dr. Death, he should throw his weight at him and fall onto him in a heap. Every step of the match is an exercise in that pure wrestling logic. There isn't anything you could even call a true highspot - even thought we all know a leather gloved hand fistdrop is the highest highspot I could personally witness - but the energy everyone commanded made this feel like there was a constant whirl of action. Matt called this a gift, just another Found Footage Friday find that I couldn't picture being a let down in any way. Just another electric performance from babyface god Jim Duggan. 

Brian Lee vs. Yokozuna Lynn, MA 5/2000

MD: So when two things drop out of mid-air everyone goes looking. Sometimes, this is what we find. Maybe it was out there. It was definitely new to me. Lynn in May 2000 was actually very achievable for me to go and see in college and I am not 100% sure why I didn't. I think maybe this promotion was just not on my radar. It's not like the result is on cagematch either, so it wasn't on anyone's radar. 

Brian Lee is more or less in his Undertaker Cosplay here. He's billed as Brian Lee but does the uppercut and moves a bit like Taker. Yokozuna is in black casual gear, as huge as he'd ever be. It's not like we have a ton of 2000 Yoko. He was sort of in Stone Cold mode, jawing angrily on the mic as a tough babyface, the whole sumo thing thrown away. 

What's fascinating here is what he still does and what he doesn't. A lot of it is just him controlling the center with Lee creating motion. That means huge shots and headbutts and recoiling this way and that depending on who's throwing, sure. But he also throws everything into a clothesline or even takes one. He hits the Samoan Drop which never looked bigger. If this was 1980 instead of 2000, he, in this exact form, would actually have been a huge attraction. He could come into territories as a special enforcer/tag team partner, could do enough to be entirely credible/dangerous, and had presence. 

A couple of guys run in here (one is Candido-ish in appearance) and as per the indies of the time, this becomes and impromptu tag match that ends quickly. Including Heroes of Wrestling, there are only ten Yoko matches on cagematch between 98 and 2000 but I'm curious how many matches from those three years actually made tape. 

ER: I can confidently say that I have never seen a Yokozuna match from 2000. I wrote about a December 1999 match he had with Tatanka, but I have never seen a single second of Year 2000 Yoko. I recognize that it is entirely stupid that this was the first match I jumped on this week, skipping past a freaking glory years Mid-South handheld and a Memphis tag that is presumably a different match than the one we watched nearly 20 years ago on the 80s Memphis set. It's such a predictable move by me, and I don't regret it, but hot damn do I love the way Yokozuna 2000 works. This was a man who, if 99% of the promotions in the world were not worried about him having a heart attack and dying in their ring, would have still had actual value. He wouldn't need to be in a main event, his size and presence are enough to slot him in anywhere, and his smarts as a worker allowed him to still build a cool match with a Fake Undertaker while heavier than we've ever seen. 

It's ludicrous that Brian Lee was working Fake Undertaker matches in his post-Chainz indy return. That said, this is mostly a puncher's match, and Lee's Undertaker uppercuts look quite good balanced out by Yokozuna's heavy overhands. The fattest wrestler you've ever seen who can throw bombs and still build to a big back bump is such a cool wrestler, and that's what this match was. Lee stalled, Yoko battered him, Lee finally stood and fought, eventually knocking Yoko down with a big clothesline. Yoko leapt into the bump like Bret delivering a vertical suplex, and I was actually surprised how well he moved. He wasn't hitting the ropes - he shouldn't have been anyway - but for a man as wide as he was it was so cool seeing how he still got up, and his Samoan drop was hit with the same speed and impact he had in '93. His legdrop looked as good as ever, and I would have hated to be on the receiving end of that double clothesline he hit on whoever ran in to break up the pin. I was excited for Yoko 2000 but I don't think I was actually expecting him to look this good while looking this bad. Post-NOAH All Japan would have been desperate enough to bring him in, right? He was basically Jerry Blackwell x2. 

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80s Joshi on Wednesday: Chigusa! Lioness! Matsumoto! Masami!

Volume 5 

9. Chigusa Nagayo & Lioness Asuka vs. Devil Masami & Dump Matsumoto 2/28/84 

K: Even if this was a bad match, and it certainly isn't, this was always 100% making the set; because it's one of the most important angles in Joshi history and effectively sets the scene for the next two or three years of big feuds.

The crowd is noticeably a bit wilder than usual. Both teams need to avoid rowdy fans trying to grab a hold of them, the Crush Gals are practically fighting their way to the ring. But other than that there’s nothing yet really hinting that something big is going to happen, in fact the whole 1st fall is just a match. When Dump’s in the ring she hits two big lariats to Asuka. The first one was allowed to sink in very well, the second one probably could have done without Asuka being up for a drop toehold almost immediately but I think the first one was enough to get the move over a bit. Devil on the other hand is using more wrestling skill to beat Asuka on the mat, you see the contrast when she tags in Dump after a bit of matwork and Dump’s first move is to go straight for stomping on Asuka’s hand. But the closest thing we get to cheating actually comes from Devil when she gets frustrated with being unable to keep Asuka down and starts pulling her hair. Chigusa gets very worked up about this on the apron pointing it out to the referee.

This is a fine match and all, the one good thing about it is it feels like they’re getting over more the contrast between Devil and Dump’s mode of heeling than the actual fight with the Crush Gals, who are more there as antagonists for Devil and Dump to try overcome, as strange as that sounds. There’s a little escalation in moves when Dump hits Asuka with a lariat again, but the 2nd time instead of hitting another one again, moves to two big kicks instead that got some reaction. She is very much out done in the moves department though when Devil hits an awesome tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, then locks in a Romero Special and gets the submission win and proves to everyone what a great wrestler she is.

So that’s the 1st fall, which is just a match. The 2nd fall is where it starts turning into an angle as Dump, for no real reason at all, pulls out a weapon. Now usually in AJW when heels pull out weapons in the 2nd fall, it’s because they lost the 1st fall and feel the need to stack the deck in their favour. Pulling out weapons in the 2nd fall when you just won the 1st one relatively cleanly is against the code of conduct even for AJW heels. What on Earth is Dump doing?

There’s also a funny bit where she fails to play hide-the-weapon by dropping it, but that might help the narrative a bit because it means Devil obviously notices it as well as the referee and they BOTH scold her, Devil even looks like she’s trying to get Dump to hand it over. The angle escalates more when they fight on the outside and Dump is trying to use weapons again, but Devil actually physically restrains her this time. This means Masked Yu has to get involved to keep the Crush Gals from taking advantage of the fallout. Oh no it’s all going wrong.

Now the 3rd fall is barely even a match, it’s just an angle. Dump is mad at Devil for intervening over the weapons usage and is behaving like she doesn’t care about the match anymore, she just wants to hurt someone. Her and Masked Yu jump the Crush Gals with their weapons, they get DQ’d finally, but then they attack Devil Masami from behind and choke her with a cable around her neck! What psychos. 

If I was to fault the execution of this in anyway I feel like the Crush Gals could have done a bit more than just be there, it felt like they could have put almost any other babyface tag team in their role and it wouldn’t have made a difference? But it feels silly to have any significant criticisms about this. After the match Devil announces that she’s disbanding Devil Legion, though she still leaves with Itsuki Yamazaki, so I guess they’re just a tag team now and Dump & Yu are going their own way? Tarantula is about to retire so not really a factor anymore.

Just for match itself I’d give this ***, but wrestling is more than just the matches of course.

Oh and another note, for people who are nerdy about this stuff. You’ll spot wrestlers on the outside all wearing company tracksuits with AJWW on them. Yes, an “extra” W. I say extra because afaik the company never actually called itself ‘AJW’, it’s just something Western observers came up with at some point. Perhaps someone thought having AJWW was unwieldy, dropped 1 W, and now it’s just stuck forever.

MD: We have seen some shifts over the last few months. Fans are more into Devil than before, especially the new crowd of younger girls. Obviously, they’re not going to pick her over the Crush Gals, but there has been a shift. Part of me wonders if this is because they started watching when she was having a heel vs heel feud (with her as the de facto face of sorts) against Monster Ripper in fall 83 (of that, we have the Chain match; it felt like a weather balloon of sorts). 

Dump has become Dump. Even two months before, she was still Kaoru (we also have a 2/4/84 draw with her teaming with Yu vs the Crush Gals which MIGHT have been better than this tag even if it’s not as historically important). She also wasn’t using the weapon(s) two months before nearly as much, though she was coming into her own and asserting herself. It’s striking, thinking back, how the hidden weapon was much more a part of the Black Army’s act than something the Devil Army used. You didn’t really see it much in the Devil/Tarantula or Devil/Yamazaki tags. They were mean and brutal but there was much more high tempo offense and tandem offense instead, and while the Army interfered plenty, it was all blatant and if there was a weapon involved it tended to be the sword and used to turn the tide. So you can sort of get why Devil was so frustrated here, especially as she was telling Dump specifically not to do this. 

These are the sort of distinctions that watching chronologically help us work out. We always lose some to context. There’s a different ref than usual here, for instance, and I know the commentary talked about another ref getting disqualified for being biased in a January match, but I don’t think we have the January 18 (Probably Jaguar/Chigusa vs Dump/Devil) match and I’m not 100% sure what was going on and if it’s about. Was it something that led to refs being more permissive as the year went on or just a failed way to deal with the chaos.

You really do get a sense of what Dump/Devil would have looked like as a super team. Lioness is able to deal with Dump with her athleticism but Dump has a way of turning things back over with her strength and size. She’ll turn a sunset flip right back over after Lioness gets her, that sort of thing. Chigusa is more reliant on her kicks and heart, but we’ll see more of this as the year goes on, I’m sure. First fall ended with Devil dismantling Lioness’ back and getting a submission with a tapitia, a rare sight. Second fall had the weapons come out with Devil frustrated. Maybe that let the Crush Gals come back with tandem offense, including the double kick and their belly to back/back elbow drop off the top finisher. Then, of course, the third fall devolved into chaos with Yu and Dump ultimately turning on Devil and Devil announcing the disbanding of the Devil Army. Most interesting bit of all of this was her facing off with the Crush Gals post match. You still get more of a sense that Devil’s rivals were Jaguar, Mimi, and Jumbo/Yukari and there was a generation gap of sort between her and Chigusa/Lioness, even though she was only a year or two older, but it added to the wonder of what might possibly happen next. 

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Tuesdays with Daddy: Week 8: w/Jones vs. The Barbarians

Big Daddy/Marty Jones vs. The Barbarians (Karl & Wolfe Kramer) 2/13/88

MD: I thought it was worth seeing some later Daddy here. This is early 88. Daddy is 57! That’s one thing I haven’t noted previously. While he was in great shape when he was younger and apparently kept his cardio up even when older, the start of this run has him in his mid 40s and by the time we hit 80 he’s already fifty. Plus he is carrying all this weight. Maybe that’s a strike against him but I think it’s wild he’s able to accomplish what he did in the ring even at this age. Some of that is working around it but some is what he works towards.

Biggest takeaway from this match is that the danger just wasn’t there. Not at all. Barely for a moment. Some of that is that Jones is probably higher up on the card and more skilled/experienced and the Kramers/Barbarians are not formidable opponents. They had a weird gimmick, Barbarians, barefoot, judo jackets and skill, facepaint over the eyes brothers. Karl was only 18 and the larger one. They barely hit anything meaningful all match so who knows what sort of offense they would have. 

Point being, they barely hit anything. Once or twice Jones got too close to the corner and got caught. Once one came in to get him to try to pull him back, but Daddy came right in to stop that with a double headlock charge (first time I’ve seen him do that, a point for variation and/or changing up bits). He got a public warning for that, but who cares? Jones would get whipped in but always got his foot up or came right back. He was never in danger. He was just, at best, in danger of being in danger, and I do think that affected the match. It was celebratory and the kids clapped and chanted but there was never any sense of tension here. I’m not sure if that was a trend for 88 or just a blip because of the opponents and because of Jones but it is a mark against this one and sort of an exception that proves the rule for Big Daddy's act. I just don’t think it works without that (reassuring, mind you) sense of peril. 

Past the headlock spot, Daddy did do a few things differently, including a double noggin knocker to start (the old standby of opponents getting a cheapshot in on Daddy’s partner before the bell), and he knocked Wolfe off the apron with a forearm and hit a nice wallop on Karl after the whips back and forth into the corners, but not until he tapped him on the shoulder, which is another nice addition. I haven’t seen him do a ton of strikes up until now. Look, you might think this stuff doesn’t matter, but I am looking for an intellectual laziness to his act as a strike against him, and I’m just not seeing it. The structure was quite often the same. The engine was the same. But the trappings have been different in little ways in every match I’ve seen so far, and to me, that does matter, and it is a strong defensive point for Daddy.

As noted, the issue here wasn’t the trappings or the details, but the engine itself, which didn’t go quite as well, not due to age, but due to the lack of real peril that Daddy was always good at ensuring was in his earlier matches. This did lead to a post match challenge for a hair match(!) from Drew McDonald, so again, at least they were keeping things interesting now and again. I don’t think I’ll see any more matches from this late in the run, but I’m glad I got to see at least one.

ER: I'm really happy we covered some late era Daddy because there ARE changes, even if they wouldn't have been as noticeable if we hadn't been writing about him every week. Most of the changes are to his physical form, as his legs are much less muscular, which actually affects his center of gravity. There's a moment in this match where he's knocked back on his heels by a much smaller man, in a way I don't think ever happens earlier in the decade with much larger men running into him. He incorporates more strikes (this is the first match of his we've covered that sees him kick someone!) and still his his incredible pulling strength, but those legs kept standing out to me. 

The Barbarians were about as Memphis goofball as a team could get, in cherry red gi with spiked arm bands, black eye paint like Daryl Hannah in Blade Runner, plus a downright brutal hairline on Wolfe. Both come off inexperienced, but in a way that adds to their demise. Karl - said to be 18 and looking no younger than 36 - had nothing but fun bumps, not taken like normal fully trained bumps, much more like a man getting knocked about and just falling over hard. He takes armdrags straight down onto his shoulder, no floatover, just spiking himself into the mat, and there's a fun spot where Jones catches a kick and keeps lift Karl's bare foot straight up until he just falls back in a heap. Jones really looked like he went out of his way to fuck this teenage middle aged man up. Daddy, too. 

Daddy really compresses Karl's vertebrae on a battering ram spot, using his shoving power to toss this guy top of head first into an abrupt wall of his brother. It probably felt better than Marty Jones dropkicking him as hard as he could. Jones kept laying in his dropkicks and Karl was great at just walking unprotected into them. The first dropkick must have left a mark on his chest, he runs into a boot on a corner charge that went straight into his face, and Jones' dropkick off the middle buckle looked like a finisher. He didn't fare any better against Daddy. Karl got knocked ass over elbow with a charging belly bump, and when Daddy grabbed him by the gi and whipped him with tremendous power across the ring, it didn't look like he had any legs under him. Daddy sent him flying and he was going to wind up wherever he wound up. 

Daddy's great little kick comes after he's splashed and pinned Karl, after sending his brother Wolfe into his brother with a tumbling bump. Daddy sits down on Karl while throwing a kick straight to Wolfe's temple. Wolfe goes through his own bad stretch with Jones, getting whipped hard chest first into the buckles, knee dropped onto his face, but nothing compared to Jones's full weight middle buckle senton that leaves Wolfe visibly gasping for breath as he holds his guts. Brutal. 

After the match Drew McDonald issues a hair vs. hair challenge to Daddy while wearing a t-shirt advertising a Scottish men's big & tall clothes boutique. Can't get that anywhere else. 

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