PBW – Live in Dumbarton Review

pbw

A triumph. Nae two ways about it. When yer scrambling to get folk in the door, and get their arses on a seat 10-15 minutes after yer show’s due tae start, it’s a triumph. The Dumbarton Burgh Hall was packed tae the rafters for PBW in Dumbarton. 400+ bodies in there. Sold oot. A wee sprinkling of folk from the Kamikaze promotion based in Birmingham, and a couple of wonderfully talented Japanese guys who I had the pleasure of seeing strut their stuff at SWA the previous night in there with yer usual blend of quality local talent, and a wee dose of Uhaa Nation in that boiling pot anaw, because the people of Dumbarton deserved to be dazzled. Diversity in Dumbarton. Lots of words beginning wae the letter D. Alliteration is fun, but no as much fun as wrestling.

Lou King Sharp vs Robbie X

Lou King ‘fuckin Sharp man. Outstanding so he is. Know what sets him apart? He’s no feart. Simple as that. He stoats out wae the swagger of a thousand Gandhis and a few Muhammad Ali’s and makes ye BELIEVE he’s every bit the wee fanny that his PBW character suggests. He stoats out and tells ye that yer mother has a deep seeded desire to sleep with him. He says it with such conviction, I stoated ootside and phoned her tae ask, but she denied it. She’s no a wrestling fan though, and when I mentioned the name she immediately went “Oh him!” so I’m no convinced. He throws tantrums when folk don’t chant his name. He jumps to the outside and has a wee moment tae himself as Robbie X starts the match off with a couple of nice armdrags. Sharp goes for the frog splash early on but it misses the mark, and Robbie X hits oot wae a pair of dropkicks. One missile, one not so much. Both sare. Sharp hits the mark with a flying boot to the jaw, and a succession of kicks, only for Robbie X tae reverse into a sitout powerbomb. Hits the mark with a move that looked a bit like the GTS, and follows it up wae a moonsault attempt that missed that mark. Sharp goes up top, shoots an imaginary load in yer Aunty Jeans eyes, and hits the Frog Splash for the win.

Sharp was a last-minute replacement for the bold Liam Thomson, and grasped his opportunity once again. Still got plenty of room for improvement, but he seems the type that will work his baws off tae fulfill his undoubted potential. In case yer no gettin the picture so far…aye…I’m intae it. He’ll dae well if he keeps his feet on the ground, and keeps slingin his baws in the general vicinity of yer maws face. Nae doubt.

Just Uz (BT Gunn and Steve Xavier) vs The Hunter Brothers vs Team Zero One (Ryoji Sai and Obata) – PBW Tag Title Match

This was aw too much tae keep up with in any sort of order, but it was fuckin scintillating stuff. It was the first time I’d seen Just Uz as a team, and having grown accustomed tae them knocking the living shite out each other in rival factions in ICW, it was nice tae see Stevie and BT being pals. Wearing colourful pants, and huvin a wee jig. Is there a purer pair of joys in life than wearing multi-coloured skants and gettin down tae some Kenny Chesney, or whitever the weans are listening tae these days? I don’t think there is. We had a beautiful exchange of chops between BT Gunn and Ryoji Sai at one point, and I kinda fell in love wae it. That look of pure astonishment on Sai’s face when he realised “holy fuckin shite…this Scottish guy can chop!” Like a wean in a sweetie shop, or Charlie Sheen in a more adult themed Sweetie shop, his eyes lit up. Chop war ensued, and I think BT probably just edged it, cause I’m sure I seen Sai mouth “He chopped oot ma right lung!” tae his pal in the crowd. We also had various dropkicks from the supremely athletic Obata, who according to my pal of the female persuasion (goat a fanny n that, probably) he has “wonderful traps” . Sai also performed a double suplex on BT Gunn and one of yer Hunter Brothers, as the cunt just continued tae dazzle me so he did. The more I seen, the more daft for not having heard of him before.

Everyone congreated on the outside bar Stevie and BT, so of course that meant it was Double Suicide Dive time. Before we were treated to a delightful Super Quadruple Quintuple Duper Plex. Ye nae idea what that entails? Me neither mate. Cause it’s no a thing. Essentially we had everyone on the ropes in the corner for a 5 man superplex, then Ryoji Sai, in his infinite shiftiness plonks himself in the middle and helps tae lubricate the runway if ye like. He oiled up the landing strip…he eh….well he pretty much flung everyone else involved in the match haufway across the ring. Including his partner. It was fuckin superb though. The whole match was, and Just Uz ensured they went home with the gold when they hit the Doomsday Device.

That chop war was easily one of my favourite things in wrestling so far this year. The realisation on Sai’s face when he realised he was in their wae someone who could give him a run for his money was priceless, and they both looked like they could’ve stood there aw night long slingin aw the chops. I’d have sat and watched it anaw.

Uhaa Nation vs TJ Rage

Uhaa Nation is a marvellous puzzle of a man. The thing about it is…he’s fucking huge. There tends to be rules when people are as huge as him. Gravitational rules. The laws of physics work against him in many ways when it comes to doing the things he does, but wid ye believe he just goes and does them anyway? It’s funny how life works sometimes. Things that shouldnae be possible happen anyway. People overcome remarkable odds every day, fighting disease, poverty and the overbearing desire tae land one on Jeremy Clarksons glaikit jaw. Life.

This was perhaps my personal favourite match of the night, but I’m intae a bit of heavyweight warfare. This was a heavyweight battle with a twist, as Uhaa Nation is obviously a high-flying freak of nature, but TJ Rage is a lot more fleet-footed than he looks. We start wae the battle of the shoulderblocks, but eventually Uhaa switches it up wae a leapfrog and a high arching dropkick. TJ hits a belter of a T-Bone suplex, as he has a wee spell of dominance, but Uhaa rallies with a few clotheslines, followed up by a beauty of a German Suplex, and a springboard crossbody if I recall correctly. I cannae be recalling correctly though can I? Cause Uhaa Nation is a big unit of a man, and big units cannae just be daein springboard crossbodys man. Its no fair. My tiny brain cannae comprehend such wondrous things. TJ has another strong spell after that, hitting a big boot in the corner and a flying uppercut fae the middle rope, before separating Uhaa fae his nations with a huge spear for a 2 count. Aghast at his inability to put the big man away, TJ lets his guard drop and Uhaa breaks out that classic Death Valley Driver, intae a Double Standing Moonsault combination for the win

I swear to god, he does that double standing moonsault in one motion. Watch it closely. Yer man does two standing moonsaults in the one motion and he’s 250 pounds. Look at it. Stare at it for a while. Bathe in its wonder. Uhaa Nation is for real mate. Uhaa Nation is going to the top, and I’m privileged to have seen him in the flesh TWICE before he gets there. Huge congrats tae TJ Rage for giving him a belter of a match tae btw. It takes two tae tango, and both Liam Thomson and TJ Rage have provided very different, but very worthy opponents for the big mans two matches up in Scotland.

Grado vs Davey Blaze

Another installment of yer classic Hero vs Villian fare. I kinda love this about the family shows. Even though pretty much every wrestling match has the hero vs villain element tae it, at the adult shows it’s not played up as much, but I quite like the old school feel tae matches like this in the family shows. Grado is a good guy. Pure and simple. He high 5s the weans, gies them a shot of his hat. Has a wee dance. Might cut a promo about how the Dumbarton skyline is a lot like the Chicago one, if ye squint yer eyes really hard. Its established. He’s a good cunt. Then yer Davey Blaze struts oot lookin like a bear wae sare baws, wae his wee battle-axe manager in the suit and tie. Snarling at children, and powerbombing yer dug through the wee table selling crisps n juice. He disnae give a flying fuck who likes him or who disnae. He’s there to do a job. That job is tae leather the jobby out of oor Grado, and head up the road tae heider his wardrobe for the fuck of it.

The match starts with the usual waistlock and wristlock shenanigans, with Grado imploring Blaze to take his hand. “Ahm no takin yer haun!” responds the antagonist, refusing to fall for the gamesmanship of the protagonist. Eventually he gives in to Grados persuasive tone, seemingly intrigued as to what taking Grados hand would do for him in this battle, but d’ye know what it done? Got him on the sharp end of a wristlock mate. Ye should have listened tae yer first instinct Davey. Grado goes up top and ends up baws first on the rope, before Blaze lands the hero of the tale flat on his spine wae a supersplex. Blaze has to leap to the defence of his advocate Mr Charles Boddington as he has a “wee baldy bastard” chant aimed at him or words tae that effect. Blaze insists that he’s “medium-sized” and it was probably my favourite bit of the night comedy wise. The passion and emotion in Daveys voice when he said it wis the purest of comedic moments so it wis. Anyway. Wrestling n that. Eyes on the prize. Grado’s taking a bit of a doing, but he gets the baddie on the ropes with a flying bum hit, followed by a wee slice of shake, rattle and roll, followed by a roll and slice. Aw the kings rolls and aw the kings slices, leave Davey Blaze doon, and Grado delighted. But his delight was short-lived as he hits the Rock Bottom, only for the Daveys decidedly medium-sized manager tae get involved, and with the refs back turned, Davey picks up Boddingtons briefcase and knocks Grado spark out wae it to seal the victory. A WIN FOR THE BADDIE OVER THE GOODIE. WE MIGHT HAVE A RIOT ON WUR HANDS HERE BOAYSIES.

It has to happen sometimes though eh? A hero like Grado needs the odd loss here and there tae keep his status as the chubby wee charismatic underdog, so it made hunners of sense, and it was a hugely entertaining encounter. A life lesson for aw the greetin weans anaw. Sometimes the bad guy wins. Up tae you what path ye go down youngster. Ye can be a Grado, and have a wee dance but sometimes get hit in the face wae briefcases. Or ye can be a Davey Blaze, and frown a lot (causing wrinkles) but ye get a medium-sized man in a suit cuttin about wae ye and you get to be the one that hits people wae briefcases. Its uptae you really. Good or evil. Choose your path.

Noam Dar vs Kenny Williams vs Pete Dunne

Fuckin……fast. Really fast. Just edged out by Uhaa vs TJ for my favourite match of the night, but it was a stoater. A lot of things happened in a short space of time. I’ll try and squeeze a lot of them in. Pete Dunne is another one from the Kamikaze promotion, and my personal favourite from the batch of folk who appeared on their behalf. I dunno if thats down to his unquestionable in-ring abilities, or the fact that he had three-quarter lengths on wae wee shoes, cause thats taking pride in yer calves so it is. Showing them off to the fuckin world. If you’ve got them, flaunt them mate. More power to ye.
Noam starts thing off with a dropkick, before Kenny gets in the mix with a springboard crossbody. Uppercuts and a backbreakers from yer Pete Dunne. Everycunts gettin the offence flowin. Kenny kicks Pete Dunnes leg so hard, it winds up at the Dumbarton Leisure Center, partaking in a game of fives. Kenny goes for a springboard somethin, but Noam Dar blocks it and dislodges one or more of his ribs wae a flying dropkick.

Seriously, the pace of this yin was something else. It was like all three of them jumped intae a game of Mario, ate one of they yellow stars, and went fuckin apache(jump on it) on us. Dar sweeps Dunnes legs on the apron, and Kenny hits a suicide dive as we took the high-octane deliciousness tae the outside. Back in the ring we had a variety of moves performed on a variety of people. Tornado DDT fae Kenny in there. Some sexy kicks from everycunt. It was aw happenin, but Noam emerged victorious with a Fishermans Suplex on Kenny. 

It all went by in a bit of a blur, but it was a belter. All 3 had good chemistry, but I’m especially gantin tae see a Noam Dar vs Kenny Williams singles match at some point down the line, and when I say “a” singles match, I of course mean “hunners” of singles matches. Aw the matches. Aw the time.

Andy Wild vs Marshall X

Words cannae describe how much I fuckin despised this Marshall X fellas gimmick. I dunno if thats him being insanely good at being a walloper or whit, but fuck me. It put me aff my penny chews so it did. I considered buying a wristband, just so I could have something on my person that I could potentially use tae choke the cunt if it came tae it. Nah I jest, I don’t go to wrestling tae choke people. It’s not civil. We don’t dae that here at Snapmare Necks. We just go tae wrestling, and maybe if we see crime being committed right in front of our very eyes, we’ll intervene wae a crowbar shot tae the head or something. No that I carry a crowbar on me either. Thats just a really heavy, funny shaped Ipod mate. Look away.

Anyway aye. Marshall X is another one up from the Kamikaze promotion down in Birmingham, and the cunt wrestles in a do-rag so he can firmly fuck off. I don’t give a fuck if yer the second coming of Ricky Steamboat in that ring mate, yer face makes me want tae heider things. Namely…yer face. Plus he beat my man Andy Wild so he did. This was only my second time seeing Andy Wild since he’s been bulking, and I really wanted him tae get this wee tadger in some kinda chokehold between they treetrunk thighs of his, but it didnae quite materialise. We got a brutal chop exchange between the boays, and a variety of moves involving the flying knees of Marshall X. The gimmick was bugging me tae fuck, but clearly he wasnt the worst wrestler in the world so I spose I can bear it. As long as he disnae start fuckin rapping during the match. My pal commented that he “looks like he raps” and my heart sank so it did. If this cunt gets Andy Wild in a Figure 4 or something, and starts a freestyle rap, I’m burning Dumbarton tae the fuckin ground. Packed house or not. Sorry, but thats a step too far so it is. Wild looks like he’s closing in on the win when he flung the wee dick for miles wae a Belly to Belly throw, followed by aw the uppercuts. A thousand of them at least. No enough though. Hits a Gutwrench Powerbomb tae and I listened keenly for the wee dicks spine snapping as it hit the canvas, but nae joy. Instead he inexplicably got Andy up on his shoulders, and hit some kinda Firemans Carry Sitout Slam for the win.

I demand a re-match right now, with only thighs allowed tae be used as offensive weapons. Andy Wild could beat god himself in a match if it wis thighs only mate. I know it’s kinda weird tae comment a lot on another mans thighs, but they’re fuckin majestic. I reckon this is main-lining t-bone steaks straight intae his hamstrings so I dae. Nae other viable explanation for it. For all the borderline homicidal patter about Marshall X, he seemed like a handy wrestler and the match was decent after a slow start. We’re aw about the positives here, but there’s nothing positive about that perennially constipated look on the cunts coupon.

We had a wee appearance from the bold Lionheart as special gues ring announcer for the main event. Looking sharp in his GMs suit, before he brings weans intae the ring tae give them a cake for their birthday. As I’m writing this on Snapmare Necks birthday, I’d like tae formally request that a wrestler presents me with a french fancy at some point in the next show I go tae. Either Stone Cold Steve Austin or Jamie Feerick. I’m no fussed which one. Nice moment for the bairns as BT Gunn, Grado and Stevie Boy roll oot tae light some candles and exchange some high 5s wae the lads. Enjoy turning 11 eh. Its aw doonhill fae there wee man. Soon as that first hair sprouts on yer baws, its fuck all but despair fae there. Nice tae see Lionheart looking so well though. haste ye back big man. So aye…MAIN EVENT.

El Ligero vs Jack Jester (PBW Title Match)

So Jester is a bad bad man. A terrible man. I’m used tae seeing ICW Jester. The crowd favourite. The “stick a corkscrew in yer eye and smile while he’s daein it” guy. Demonic fun for all the family. This Jester is not fun for all the family. He’s still got the corkscrew, but he uses it tae poke holes in any El Ligero sign he sees, before stickin his tongue through it and waggin it like it wis the excitable tail of a Jack Russell. Point is, Jester’s no a nice man in PBW. Especially no when he’s after a belt. He disnae care how many weans get maimed. Or how many maws he has tae finger. He’s going home wae the gold.

The match takes a while to get going, but eventually we get some clotheslines fae Jester, and a big splash in the corner. The action then moves tae the outside, where Jester tells various children that “Santa Clause isnae real, but if he wis, the only present he’d leave in your hoose is a bun in yer maws oven!” Really specific and nasty heel work fae Jack here, as he drags Ligero aw roon Dumbarton. Fires him intae the toilet at one point tae, and while I didnae follow the action at this point, I’m told Jester performed a Shootin Star Press aff one of the urinals, followed by a tornado ddt aff the cubicle. No sure if I’m believing that tbh wae ye. They end up sluggin it out at the merch table, where Jester smashes Ligero over the heid wae various masked action figures, asking Ligero “is this your brother?” as he stuffs a Sin Cara figure in his gub. It wis gruesome stuff guys. Jack Jester really is a bad bad man.

Back in the ring,after the apron legdrop from Jester, Ligero finally garners some momentum when he hits the Enziguri in the corner, followed by a single legged dropkick. Jester goes for the Tombstone, but Ligero ducks out, and goes up top for the double stomp. Jester responds wae yon elevated pedigree he does which I still don’t know the name of. Somecunt tell me please? That gets Jester a two count, and he’s no best pleased wae that. 2 counts don’t lead tae new belts ye see. It’s a 3 ye need for that. The Bobby Petta lookin ref is taken out the equation by Jester. Ligero hits the mark wae a Frog Splash but guess whit? Nae ref, means nae count. Another dashing young gentleman enters the fray, but he’s a bit too late tae the party, and Ligero only manages a two. Ligero takes a calf tae the baws (no a calf like he hit him wae a baby cow, I mean his calf muscle) tellt yees. PBW Jester is a bad bad man. He disnae care whose baws need toed for him to be heading up the road wae a brand new belt. The replacement ref gets knocked out by Jester anaw, but he sees the error of his ways as he pretty much has Ligero beat, with nae ref tae count the fall. Eventually original Bobby Petta ref awakes from his slumber, just in time tae see Ligero reverse the Tombstone, and hit a sexy wee Superkick, followed by the Frog Splash tae retain the gold.

Goodie beats baddie, baddie takes a maddie and clatters his corkscrew aff a buncha railings. Snarled at a few more weans. Had a protest shite on the wee table with the ring bell on it. The end. Textbook stuff really. The majority of a packed house get sent home happy seeing the good guy triumph over the one that chants the word “die!” after every jab he delivers. That man wis Jack Jester. Jack Jester is a bad bad man.

PBW in Dumbarton was a rousing success. When yer jammin blu tack intae folks hands, and literally hanging them fae the rafters just so they’ve got a vantage point, then ye know its been a success in terms of drawing a crowd. Great card anaw. Good mixture of yer auld favourites, and the Kamikaze guys. Along with the two mega talented Japanese guys from ZERO ONE, and of course UHAAAAAA NATION BABY. How hard is that guy goin tae the fuckin top btw? Seriously. One of the most unique talents I’ve seen in a long time, and he seems like an awfy nice guy tae. Thats a rare thing. Someone with undoubted talent, who’d offer ye one of his fizzy cola bottles if he had some on his person. Some man.

Congratulations to everyone at PBW for the cracking crowd and a stacked card. Another family friendly company clearly thriving in Scotland, and bringing ye a right good mix of wrestling talent. Looking forward to seeing more shows of theirs in the future.

 

 

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