A new venue for the wrestling is always a troubling time, especially when its not your home city. I can comfortably tell ye that the least pleasant parts of visiting the 5 cities on the Magical Mystery Tour was that stress of “have we left early enough to find this venue? and what if the taxi driver doesn’t accept a handwritten list of witty retorts as payment?” I printed aff google maps for some places as a backup for phones dying and shit. It was that serious. So ICW having a new Edinburgh venue was enough to have arses clenched, and brows sweaty. Fuckin WHERE? Where is City Nightclub? I know two places in Edinburgh. Waverley Train Station, and Studio 24. Handily located right fuckin next tae each other, and now I need tae wander the streets of the tweed forsaken capital of this nation to find a THIRD PLACE! Outrageous. Not only is it outrageous, its an injustice. I worked hard to completely block out the rest of this city, and now yer saying I need to fuckin explore?!? Its not acceptable. Its a bridge too far. Its……oh its right across the road when ye step out of the train station is it? Right….cool. We can work with this. City Nightclub has the official Snapmare Necks seal of approval as a venue. Nae relocating for at least a year though. Even if ICW gets big enough to sell out Murrayfield for every week of the Fringe, its not allowed.
The show itself was missing a few regulars. It was missing everyone from the two feuds that drove the company through the Magical Mystery Tour and Fear and Loathing. It was missing everyone named Coffey and Dar. It was missing Greg Burridge. Basically it was missing people who matter. People who matter a lot…..and Greg Burridge. Seriously though. It could have been forgiven if this show was a bit pish. A wee bit phoned in. A wee bit of filler in a period of excellence, but the show we seen was fairly braw. There was nothing that made me go ‘I fuckin hate this and I want it tae die’ and that makes it a winner. I’m about tae watch it again on ICW On Demand, so I’m no even gonnae try and tell ye these are recollections from the night itself. That would be lies, and aside from pretending to have any understanding of mechanics involved in a well executed Canadian Destoryer, I don’t lie to people.
DCT w/Jackie Polo x vs Solar
Jackie Polo had some words for us before allowing us to bear witness to the tash. He spoke of letting Mark Coffey have the weekend off to unwind and leave various bodily fluids in a jacuzzi at some spa in Loch Lomond. It was time for the International Sex Hero to shine, with the Polo Promotions patriarch in his corner. He puts the 0-0-0-0-0 in Polo Promotions seemingly. That would make it P0l0 Pr0m0ti0ns though, and thats just an eyesore. Lets talk about a wrestling match.
Yer DCT decided the best way to open this encounter with “old sunshine himself” would be to insult his stature, and suggest that they only become equals when DCT sunk to his knees. I dunno if thats some sort of subtle way of telling us about Solar’s day job in the massage parlour, but either way, his cheek got him multiple dropkicks and a moonsault off the apron for his troubles. A standing moonsault was next on the menu, before the Polo Promotions trademark came in to play for the first time in the night. Honestly, how can you not totally love a wrestling stable built on scoop slams? Thats an ethos deeply rooted in the fundamentals so it is, and that cannot be understated mon frere. DCT isnae a wee guy by any means, but I reckon this will be one of the few times in his career where he would be considered the powerhouse of any match, and he continued to exert his dominance with yer MORE scoop slamming action.
All the fuckin scoop slams. Even a Solar reversal in the middle didnae derail the scoop slam extravaganza. A big powerbomb was DCTs weapon of choice for the win, but Solar reversed into a Hurricanrana. His head of was derailed by some Polo iinterference leading to Solar having a wee dive on to yer man Polo, only for Jackie to catch, him gorilla press him above his head a hunner times, and scud him off a ringpost. You might have a lot of heart oor sunshine, but you dont have an army behind ye. Although he does have mad hops anaw. A million flips, led to an elbow in the corner, before a boot to the back of DCTs skull had a team of animated tashes dancing and singing round his heid. In his dizzy wisdom (dizzdom?) DCT scooped up Polo’s mallet, and caught Solar coming off the ropes to knock him clean out for the win. WHO BAD? THEEEEEEY BAD. See that makes sense cause they broke the rules to win. Know who disnae like rules, and the breaking of those rules? SWEENEY.
Out he came to save the day. As noble as it was, it was still 3 on 2. Coooooach Trip and DCT kept Sweeney at bay as Polo delivered the 45th and 46th scoop slams Solar had taken that evening. Sweeney managed to evade their attentions long enough to come to Solars aid and take an elbow drop on his behalf, but his efforts were ultimately pointless as Sweeney and Solar took a doing anyway. Nice tae see Sweeney come to Solars aid right enough. I heard before he got the jail, that he did have an appreciation for white stuff that comes fae South America. Sweeney stuck some snazzy specks on his new pal, and told us that he’ll be facing DCT at the next Spacebaws show. If Eddie Sideburns grows his auld tash back and refs that shit, it’ll have more tashes than a 70s porno.
The Bucky Boys vs Liam Thomson and Carmel Jacob
Carmel think’s we’re all wankers. Probably accurate in the strictest sense of the word, but at the same time, that hurt. It hurt tae hear it. I understand that her and Liam are dirty heels, and hurting peoples feelings is pretty much the whole point, but still. There’s nae need. Even if its the midst of delivering a beautiful promo about how she’ll never face Kay Lee Ray in a singles match in ICW again, and how Davey Boys triumphant return at Fear and Loathing has been eating away at her, its still sare. I just want her to tell me how I can be better. How can I improve so at least I’m not considered a wanker personally? Cause fuck all these other cunts. Its a dog eat dog world, and naecunt likes a wanking dog. The Buckys emerge to answer Carmels call for them to “drag their heroin infested, pot noodle inhaling arses out here” by stoating through the curtain with their bare arses on show. Obscenity. Vulgar so it was. After a DCT victory built on the fundamentals of the scoop slam, we’re reduced to this tomfoolery. The Wee Man unleashes some verbal verbosity about Davey having a dick bigger than the circumference of Kim Kardashians arse, and how Stevie Boy still sells a Q for 40 quid, because he’s the most morally conscious drug dealer in the world. Driven to bankruptcy by his desire to sell gear for less money than he buys it for. Got tae admire that sort of anti-entrepreneurship eh? Carmel tells The Wee Man tae get fucked. A brief stramash, and an unsuccessful attempt from The Wee Man tae “ride” Carmel, leads tae a crazy little thing called a wrestling match.
Davie and Stevie combined to pancake Liam Thomson (thats not a weird thing or that, they just dropped him face first) before Davey connected with a beauty of a dropkick. For a beast of a boy, he can leap. He was leaping doon his own throat to fetch his teeth right enough, as Carmel ushered him to outside and stomped a fair few of them out. That was a trend that seemed to run through the match. Folk stomping on Davey boys heid. Carmel and Liam Thomson both stood on his neck for a while in the corner. Even the wee man stoated round, with intentions tae get him a slice of this neck standing action, but Carmel kicked him in the chops, and while all the neck standing shenanigans were occurring, yer man Davey snuck away for the HOAT TAG.
In come’s yer Stevie Boy like a bat out of hell, like Marty Jannetty right after taking gear, like yer Da after yer Maw jams a finger up his….aye so, he swings out of a tilt-o-whirl backbreaker attempt from Thomson into a Russian legsweep, and thats when shit got frenetic. A 3D attempt on Liam Thomson is stopped by Carmel, before Davey and Liam have a wee merry rope running dance, only for Dave to hauf Liam in two with the spear. As Liam rolled to safety, we had the first ever ICW chivalry stand-off. As much as I admire Daveys reluctance to hit lassies, in wrestling it disnae count mate. If they hit you, you can hit them back. Its all part of the possibly offensive fun. He catches her coming off the ropes twice, blocking a tornado DDT and telling her tae dae whit she’s tellt. Ye see, I reckon thats more offensive than refusing to hit her know what I mean? Sitting her up there and telling her to know her place. Nae wonder she kept diving at him. If someone questioned my right as a woman to do and say as I ple…..fuck sake, my right as a woman? We’ve wandered down a dark, slightly gendered confused path here.
Lets talk about how the match ended eh. Carmel got her wish as Davey blocked her last attempt at a move off the ropes by letting her crash erse first to the mat. Lesson learned big Davey assumes, but yer Carmel had other ideas. Scudding him in his gravymakers, and giving him the middle finger, only for Davey and Stevie to hit her with another 3D. 2 3Ds in 2 weeks, thats 3x2x3 = 18Ds. 18 Ds in 2 weeks. An unbelievable amount of punishment to take so it is. Don’t argue with the maths on this one please, just be aware that Davey got the pin off the back of the 3D. Everyone had a wee dance and a wee sing song, and thats all that matters.
I’ll no tell any lies. Too much respect for the man and his burst briefcase to piss ye about, so I’ll admit. If you told me a year and a half ago my favourite cunt in ICW on the mic would be Chris Renfrew, I’d have slapped ye upside the heid; before realising I’m no really a fighter, and running a fuckin mile in case you saw fit to retaliate, but the point is. Nae way could I have seen that coming. Renfrew has always been impassioned on the mic, but before the heel turn and having the NAK cause to shout about, it never had the same effect for me. Renfrew isn’t yer Red Lightning type on the mic. Where the words really don’t matter, because the delivery is so sharp. He isn’t a Jackie Polo type, where every single word is designed to get under folk’s skin on some level, and thats an act of genius in itself. Renfrew needs a cause that means something to bring the best out in him on the mic, and the NAK cause means everything to the cunt. Chris Renfrew walks a fine line between making everyone very aware that he fucking hates them, whilst saying what he needs to say with enough feeling and humour to appeal to the hardcore NAK fans. Its a tough line for a heel to tread. Finding that balance between keeping yer integrity as a bad bastard in tact, whilst staying cool as fuck, and he dances along it brilliantly. Even with a couple of mishaps in there, for me he cut his best promo yet. Even better than the one at The Fringe, because this one felt real as fuck. Every word felt like it mattered. The words about BT Gunn telling him he couldn’t feel his legs after the Wolfgang match were captivating, after Renfrew and the rest of the NAK had decided to allow the two of them to settle their differences one on one. Yet all the fans cared about was seeing a conclusive end to the match. Us dirty bastards. Frothing at the gub, demanding they fight till one of them perishes. Fuck us. Fuck us, but fuck us in a way that still makes us want tae buy yer t-shirt. Pour that scorn on us.
Pour some of it on Drew Galloway anaw, as you tell him when and where you’ll be taking his belt. ICW Square Go 2015. Exactly 364 days in to the 365 Renfrew had to cash in his shot at the ICW Title. The NAK are his brothers. Divers gets some stick from time to time, but its all love. Divers and Renfrew display that love by hugging it out before Renfrew stopped talking about brotherhood long enough to call out the biggest, baddest motherfucker on planet earth. Hiya Damo
Then the most beautiful thing in the world happened. A true boaysies moment, which can only be shared between the closest of boaysies, as Renfrew prepared to be on the sharp end of a dismembering from the bear, Divers planted a kiss on his cheek, and slung his piece bag over his shoulder, before sending Renfrew off tae school. The school of big hairy Irishmen knocking yer teeth out for sport. Ding ding. Wrest-le-ing.
Chris Renfrew vs Damo
Nae wee graphic for this one cause it was pure impromptu, but I like how they break up wall after wall of text, so they’ll be a permanent fixture in the future. Official admin business out the way, I’ll tell ye some things about this wrestling match eh. We’ve been promised Damo vs Renfrew a couple of times recently. It DID happen at Pride, and as much fun as it was, it was family friendly Damo vs Renfrew. Naecunt lost any teeth or dignity. It was supposed to happen at ICW in Dundee, but that turned into a tag match, so now we were finally getting it. Baws tae the…eh…waws? Aye I suppose so. That.
Renfrew came at him like a mad whirling dervish, before Damo pretty much picked him up and chucked him like a ball of wet bog roll. Renfrew’s lost weight lately, but hes still about 14-15 stone of man by my estimation, and Damo flung him like he was a figment of his imagination. The good thing about Renfrew being more of a cruiserweight these days is that he can fling wild rampant punches at a cunt like Damo, and him nae selling them makes sense. Before they would have been in similar weight classes, but now theres about a 5 stone difference between them and that makes Damo ragdolling Renfrew fae corner to corner, and splashing fuck out of him make plenty of sense, before he got tae chest standing and sentonning. I dunno if Damo has a name for that chest stand/ribcage killer, but its one of those things that cannae avoid being sare as fuck. There’s nae way yer not causing some serious harm to a cunts ribcage with that. Fuck me, I’m fair yammering on about this match eh? We’ll speed this up. You’ve got work to be getting on wae, or a child to ignore. Fuck knows whit ye actually do with yer time, but I’ll speed this up a bit regardless….
Sometimes simple wee things make for the best storytelling. Something as simple as Renfrew going after Damo’s leg made this intriguing as fuck. He leathered Damo across the knee with the briefcase first of all, before taking a boot that sent him towards the barrier, and taking the Belfast Blitz (big diving senton) against the barrier, but Renfrew kept coming for that leg. Another briefcase shot, and about 90 kneedrops kept Damo down, and even when he did make it back to his feet, and snazzy wee roll off the bears back, followed by a dropkick to the knee took Damo back down. Renfrew has one of the best clotheslines in ICW. When he hits the sweet spot, its some JBL shit. Greetings from Silent Hill he cries it, and I’ll stop fellating him through the medium of words for long enough to tell ye how he got on with attacking Damo with that very clothesline….no very well. The big man refused to yield, instead hitting back with a couple of massive forearm smashes, before turning Renfrews collarbone tae fuckin dust with a huge clothesline of his own. Greetings fae the bear wae a sare heid. Renfrew blocked the big bastardin brogue before BOOM. Stoner outta nowhere. Damo rocked back and forth, before gently collapsing to the mat like he’d been shot in the erse by a tranquilliser dart, but it never got the job done. Fuckin 2 count. Extreme measures time int it….Divers…GET THE CHAIR.
With the NAK official kill-list chair in hand (thats a chair with the list they have of people they’ve killed so far, just says Scott Maverick and Christopher on it) Renfrew caught a big Brogue to the dome, but even if he was seeing stars after that, yer man Renfrew had the ring awareness to know he was near the ropes. Well tbf, in the smaller ICW ring yer always kinda near them, but he knew he was close enough to stick a foot on the bottom one and thats smart. He knows that breaks the count. Very shrewd indeed. The missile single leg dropkick took Damo aff his feet again, before Renfrew swung the chair at the big man’s leg. Bringing a chair into the mix might have seemed wise at the time, and it was looking smart when he was leathering Damo’s knee with it, but not so much when he flung it at Renfrews dome, before setting him up for the VanDamoNator.
Divers stopped that in its tracks, and kept Damo occupied for long enough to allow Renfrew to gather up his energies, just in time for the big man to catch them both and look very much like chucking them over his heid. The NAK are a brotherhood though aren’t they? And Darkside is his brother’s keeper. In he came to chop Damo down by his big treetrunk of a leg, allowing Renfrew to gingerly land on top of him for the win. Teamwork makes the dreamwork and all that. Nice tae see ye btw Darkside, you’re up next.
Darkside vs Mikey Whiplash
Missed the cunt. Missed writing about his matches tae, even though Mikey Whiplash really didnae like my stuff in the past. Which is fair enough, I done it from memory and included a bunch of useless shite about the crowd, how drunk I was and popping balloons that no one needs to know about. Putting myself in a wrestlers shoes and having things like my hauf cooked “articles” as something people took as some sort of record of what happened when they done their thing, I get being annoyed at a seemingly blase attitude being taken towards writing about someones work. Thats what they do for a living. Ye need tae take as much pride in writing about it as they do in doing it, otherwise whits the point? I also don’t subscribe to this idea that everyone who “takes the time” to write a review of a wrestling show being commended for their efforts tae. See if its shite? You wasted yer time. People shouldn’t be encouraged to waste their time on endeavours they’re fuckin pish at. Thats how ye get these middle aged roasters on things like The X Factor, telling Dermot O’Leary they’ve been singing since they were 6, and their Primary 4 music teacher saw a lot of potential in the way they played the triangle. People being allowed to be so openly shite at this is what gave it a bad name in the first place. “Fans” of a thriving, growing wrestling scene writing reviews that pick apart the mechanics of a thing they don’t understand enough about to do so. Always hated that. Wrestling reviews that take glee in reporting peoples fuck ups, whilst having the reaction of a sociopath to things that are supposed to make people feel feelings. Its awrite to enjoy things, and tell people about that. It is. Really.
See Darkside vs Mikey Whiplash? I thought it was fucking fantastic. Properly got me rigid so it did. I’m gonnae tell ye about that as I rewatch it, and that long, self indulgent opening paragraph will feel like it didnae happen. Point is, as much as I think he definitely hates us all, and wants to see us suffer, having Mikey Whiplash back as an active member of the ICW roster is something a wee bit special. The reaction he got at Fear and Loathing was also a wee bit special, and as much as he’s taken pleasure in being less than kind about us in the past, the amount of emotion the ICW crowd chucked at him will have meant a lot. He’s in better shape than ever and looks just as intense as he always did, so here we go. Mikey Whiplash 2.0. He stoated out to his old music and everyone went hauf daft. Then they had a right good wrestle.
A couple of tie-ups ended in a stalemate, before they broke to leather each other with brutal jaw slackening forearms. Whiplash turned that into a takedown, straight into the half crab, after pulling a face that resembled someone having their small intestine pulled out through their arsehole, Darkside managed to force a break, and we got into an exchange on the mat that saw various leg locks and pinning combinations happen. Headlocks, handstands, Whiplash with a mad headscissors choke thing. It all happened seamlessly and it was tear inducingly beautiful. I don’t think inducingly is even a word, but fuck it. Its getting used. A wee game of cat and mouse almost saw Whiplash steal it with a small package after he kidded on he was deid, before unleashing a barrage of uppercuts. Darkside responded by dragging him outside and hitting a neckbreaker on to the barrier. Cheeky as fuck. Considering Whiplash nearly bled oot as the result of a barrier raping his leg this time last year, this was an act of blatant cheekery. Which Whiplash responded to by deadlifting his way out of an armbar. Darkside was infatuated with working the arm throughout the match, hanging Whiplash over the top rope in a cross armbreaker type move, before pulling a chainsaw out fae under the ring, sawing Whiplash’ arm clean aff, and putting him in a chinlock with HIS OWN ARM. This match was breaking all the rules. Both wrestling wise, and decency wise, but Whiplash only needs one arm for diving European uppercuts. As Darkside proceeded to kick his his chest, Whiplash invited the barrage on, only to rise up like a one armed human erection, to hit the flying uppercut. If this was boxing, it would be a lot more homoerotic for a start, but also…they would be dead level on points. Someone’s gonnae have to get a knockout. Cannae leave it up to the judges, as it was already established by Carmel earlier that we’re all wankers who don’t have a fucking clue what we’re watching. So they hit each other with forearms. A lot…
Whiplash gained some momentum when hit an inverted atomic drop, followed by the flying uppercut off the middle ropes. A full nelson suplex attempt was turned into an Angle Slam by Darkside, before he locked in a version of the Kimura lock. Seamless as fuck.
Right from Whiplash kicking out of the cover, yer man Darkside locked in the Kimura, and he stayed attached to Whiplash’ arm for what felt like an eternity, before Whiplash finally shook him off (only 2 shakes though, any more than that, yer playing wae it) and delivered another thumping European Uppercut, followed by a quick Brainbuster to give Whiplash the unabashed glory on his first singles match since returning. For long standing ICW fans, it was a return to the familiar old days of Mikey Whiplash having the best match on the card, and for new fans, it was an introduction to the good shit you can expect to be seeing from here on out.
This is why On Demand is a godsend, cause see the wee bit after this match? I have nae recollection of it at all. None. If I wrote this from memory, there would be no written evidence of Renfrew and Divers poking their heids out, only for Damo to drag Divers halfway tae hell, before sending Renfrew in the ring to take a Death Valley Driver from Whiplash. There would be no record at all of the second failed VanDamoNator of the night, as Divers once again dragged his besto tae safety before harm could befall him. God bless On Demand and that eh. Beauty of a match though. It wouldn’t be a year in ICW if Whiplash didnae have at least one MOTY contender. Literary fellatio aside, its nice tae see him back in ICW doing what he does best. Wrestling is decent sometimes eh?
Kid Fite vs Johnny Moss (Winner faces Drew Galloway for the ICW Title at Brush Your Goose)
I feel right bad about backing big Mossy for this before it. Johnny Moss vs Drew Galloway is a match I’d love tae see, but is that enough reason to begrudge arguably the form wrestler in ICW a shot at the big belt? Of course its no. Kid Fite’s been having some rerr matches in ICW this year, and until very recently he’d appeared on every ICW show there had been. So big Drew’s back, and wielding a nice new shiny belt. Who better to defend it against at a show in Glasgow than a man who’s mare Glasgow than eh….I dunno, some cliched shite. Irn-Bru, or the Shipyards or something. He’s Glesga as fuck anyway, and as good as he is at that wrestling, Johnny Moss is not.
The early exchanges saw them tie up a lot, and Johnny Moss throw Fito a lot. Anything that pits the upper-body strength of Johnny Moss against the upper-body strength of Kid Fite is gonnae lead to Fito picking spare bits of canvas out his arse. He hit back with an Enziguri that didnae even take the big unit off his feet, before sending him to the corner for a big uppercut and that high arcing dropkick he does. Mossy hit back with more of that thing he’s so good at. Throwing adult males about like they’re made outta marshmallows stuck together by pritt stick. Belly to belly suplex, big fucker of a scoop slam and some vicious chops in the corner. He even took a moment to tell someone in the crowd he liked them a wee bit. Fuck know why, must’ve complimented the glorious shine he gets on his dome after the wife takes some furniture polish tae it (getting smart wae Johnny Moss aye? whit the fuck am I daein…ABORT) but the distraction was enough to give Fito an opening, but his wee rally was shortlived, as Mossy reversed a suplex attempt into a suplex of his own. Give Fito his due, he kept trying things. Sore as fuck looking reversals kept coming at him, and he kept on trying stuff. As the old saying goes, if at first you don’t succeed…keep trying stuff till ye dae succeed. Try a DDT and get tossed over Mossys head with a Northern Lights Suplex. But one thing you should never do Mr Fito, is stop trying. Eventually it’ll happen for ye. Eventually you’ll aim a big kick off the apron and Mossy will take that kick (that actually did happen btw) Eventually you’ll go for the Fishermans Brainbuster and you’ll hit it (that also happened) and eventually you’ll cover Johnny Moss for the 3 count and become the number one contender for the ICW Title (not quite yet for that yin, but we were getting close)
After taking about 50 chops, Fito hit back with a Death Valley Driver for another near fall. He found himself suddenly fighting out of a German Suplex attempt, only to catch a heid detacher of a lariat instead. It looked like big Mossy had it sewn up, but he got a bit cocky, and got DDT’d to fuck. A mad legsweep DDT it was anaw. Slicker than your average, and it got the baw brandishing bastard the win. I always had faith in ye Fito mate. Always. x
Kenny Williams vs Joe Hendry (ICW Zero-G Title Match)
About a year in the making this has been all in. Finally the singles match happens, and considering neither of these cunts had made much of a footprint on the Scottish Wrestling landscape as little as 18 months ago, it was rather heartwarming to hear them both get vociferous crowd reactions for this. They’re the cream of their crop from their respective schools, and it was an entertaining battle. A battle containing a standing moonsault from Kenny early on, after a cheeky wee exchange of headlocks, before Joe blocked his attempt at that acrobatic dropkick he does through the middle rope. The second attempt landed though, as did the suicide dive and we had us a fuckin title match folk. From the people who brought you such box office as “The Spy Who Shagged Me” and “other wrestling matches” this yin had kicked it up a few notches.
Some frantic action, with wrestling moves and suchlike was ended by Joe Hendry knocking Kennys windpipe towards his baws with the hugest lariat of the night. It was a night of big time clotheslines tae. Even without the Coffeys, cunts were slinging their arms at people necks with reckless abandon, and this blow in particularly was beautifully sold by oor Kenny. Its the flippy shit and the charisma which has Kenny heralded as “The Bollocks” but ye cannae underestimate his Ziggler-esque ability to sell the fuckin shit out of moves. Joe kept Kenny in the air for approximately 15 mins 46 seconds with the delayed vertical suplex, before Kenny came fleeing aff the ropes with a diving clothesline. All the back and forth action in this yin. Making the only title match on the card count. Arguably the most entertaining match on the card, although Darkside vs Whiplash was the undoubted MOTN, this yin had everyone eating out the palm of its fuckin hand. Kenny got springy with a whole mess of back elbys. A corner back elby, followed by the middle rope springboard back elby to the coupon had Joe reeling. A boot to James R Kennedys chin had him scooping the top hauf of his out some guy in the front rows pocket, as Kenny had Joe suspended with his arms tied up on the top rope. A dropkick to the back followed by a sneaky wee rollup brought Kenny within a bawhair of retaining (not his bawhair right enough, we all saw the evidence in Dundee, yer man’s smooth as can be down there…veet daft)
A Joe Hendry DDT had the Global Heroes horde of followers believing that he was gonnae take home one of the titles…
Not the Heavyweight, but the Zero-G.
Then a powerslam, and the Freak of Nature
Had them daft for Joe Hend-ree.
But Kenny Williams got the shoulder up.
Which was met with much derision.
When his skull met steel
And he kicked out again
Joe Hendry hit him with a televisiooooon.
He didnae really hit him with a tele like, but I was up shit creek without a rowing boat there. We needed to bring that we ditty to an end somehow. Anyway…James R Kennedy brought a chair into the mix and this time it actually hit its intended target, but Kenny Williams is not for dropping that belt as a result of hi-jinks not in the spirit of the sport. He fights with integrity, and honour, with a wee shade of reckless abandon. He fights with a quiff anaw, but the patented Quiff Buster was not his weapon of choice this time.
Instead he took Joe out with a flying knee to the coupon after they slapped each other about for a bit, and 3 count later, yer Kenny Williams had retained the Zero-G belt; in what feels like his millionth defence of the belt in the space of about 2 months.
If ye liked that (and by fuck, ye really should have) they’ll do it again at Spacebaws next month, so shift yer dick along to The Garage and get it seen. James R Kennedy even called Kenny a great champion, and promised that after much negotiation that if Joe cant beat Kenny…HE WALKS THE PLANK….and at the end of that plank…THERES A SHARK TANK…and if he survives the shark tank….THERE’S A SECOND SHARK TANK..and if he survives that shark tank, well he still has to leave ICW, but at least he’ll be alive eh. Joe didn’t take too kindly to James R.Kennedy putting his ICW career on the line without explicit permission, but James R.Kennedy looks like a man who’s accustomed to doing things without permission, so it was aw wan tae the man wae the hairy chest. Its confirmed for Spacebaws. Kenny vs Joe. Here we fuckin go…MAIN EVENT TIME BAYBAAAAAY.
Martin Stone vs Grado
It wasn’t Grado vs Stone at all. I only put that there to justify putting the wee match graphic up cause it’s a right good yin. Grado’s pulling a face that say’s “I’m heavy feart of the cunt next tae me on this graphic” and big Martin Stone’s giving it that “Fuckin right he’s feart, I dunno what feart means, but I assume its another word for scared, and I’m a big scary bastard” but aye. Grado made his entrance only to be scudded over the back of the napper by that big walloper Sha Samuels. It looked like an EAST LANDAN firing squad in the beginning, but Grado always has hauners. This time it was Buckys, after some people around me got me very excited about the prospect of surprise Noam Dar. A Stevie Boy double shift will do just nicely though, as he won the game of Rock, Paper, Scissors him and Davie had to decide who would team up wae Grado. FAE A TAG TEAM WAE STEVIE-BOY…ITS EES SELL….GRAAAAAADO.
Sha Samuels and Martin Stone vs Grado and Stevie Boy
Thank fuck the Buckys did step up right enough, imagine a 2 on one handicap match between Grado and the Stone Samuels Alliance. Cunt would have wound up with a chronic case of deidness. Him and Stevie worked together beautifully early on, like Rock n Roll n Slice Express. Stevie took big Sha down with a lovely armdrag, only for Stone and Samuels to combine to send Stevie flying clean oot the ring. Stone took Stevie up for a suplex, before they both got to jabbing and heidering poor Stevie. The hot tag is the only thing that can save ye now pal. Your only redemption is that crowd getting roastin hoat, and you getting the Grado freight train in. The Eastenders theme got started again, which Samuels seems to use as some sort of fuel for him stomping a mudhole in Scottish cunts. They kept on leathering Stevie, much to his annoyance and probable pain in the chin area, and our Grado was unimpressed with the antics. Giving the East End Bad Yins the wanker sign. Wanker signs dont stop Stevie getting suplexed though Grado. In fact, in terms of a wrestling match they do very little to help anycunt. Sha decided to get in Grado’s face, and all got a bit handbaggsy. Guys mon. This is professional wrestling, not some kind of entertainment show. A bit of decorum ffs.
Stevie continued to get his jaw dismantled, and put back together again with scoop slams, and other such wrestling manoeuvres, but the hot tag was on its way. Ye could feel it. Grados spent this whole match hulking up. It was time. Enziguri for Martin Stone, a bit boot to Shas dome, and suddenly we had the Shake Rattle n Roll procession. Everycunt catching jabs and elbows tae the coupon. Big back drop for Sha. Gradomania’s running wild on you faaaackin mugs. Roll and slice for Martin Stone brought a two count, and then it all went a bit wrong. This isnae how the hot tag was supposed to go man. Its supposed to be hot tag, then glory for the good guys. Thats the rules. These cockney cunts just dont play by the rules dae they? Dirty villainous bastards. Grado was on the harsh end of a doing from Martin Stone, before Stevie saved the day, only for Stevie to get levelled with a sitout powerslam from Sha. Grado hit the F5 on Sha and the wee boot on Stone, and that seemed tae be job done, but Sha saved the pin and Stevie got planted with London Bridge by the Guv’nor to give The Samuels Stone Alliance a big fucker of a win on their debut as a team. Huge win. Clean as a whistle tae. And the devilish bastards werent done yet, as big Stone wanted to give Stevie a Chelsea Smile for having the gall to meddle in his business. While Sha made Grado watch. Fuckin Kray Twins here eh? Big Davey Boy came out and took all that pent up energy (and by energy…I mean spunk) out on them by KO’ing the big bastards with a double clothesline. They were tempted to have another go, but the numbers didn’t favour them this time, and off they popped. First Megabus back tae Landan ya clowns. Lovely seeing yees again though. Please visit again soon. Your heelishness is one of the best things gaun in ICW right now, and its nice to have a pair of guys I feel more than comfortable swearing at.
Overall it was a smashing show. Considering how many regulars missed it, I very much enjoyed watching that back. Even more so than I done at the time. Nae ICW show without Wolfie, BT Gunn, Noam Dar and The Coffeys can be considered a classic, but it was rerr. One show left of 2014. Brush yer geese. Brush em real good.