Had this show pretty much reviewed then the wordpress window shut. The window shuts all the time. Its nae big deal. You open it up again and wallah! There’s the words. This time no wallah. This time nothing. Nae words. Proving beyond any shadow of a doubt that not only do a lot of humans dislike Dundee, the fuckin internet hates it anaw.
Sorry that’s no fair on all you good hearted Dundonians. It’s really no. I might have skipped attending this show in person cause I was a bit skint and didn’t fancy spending my last score watching wrestling in an atmosphere akin to 2 or 3 hundred folk all trying to wank in a library at the same time, but you’re all smashing folk I bet, apart from the cunt chanting “chicken” at an ICW show. Mate take that patter to some mid afternoon family friendly show, and listen to the weans in attendance rip the utter cunt oot ye.
In all seriousness but, the tour has to start somewhere, so off the Dundee they went, and the wrestling definitely happened.
Stevie Boy vs Kid Fite vs Noam Dar vs Kenny Williams
Thats Stevie’s belt. He is the permanent owner. Why we even bother having title matches I don’t know. Stevie has title deeds for the fucker and everything. Its his property. Assuming he dies one day, or the WWE sign him on a 130 year contract, and the belt needs to go to someone else, Kid Fite shouldn’t finish his career without at least holding it once. Because whether its red singlet Fito who calls yer maw a cow and spits in yer Da’s eye for gien her hauners, or if its Blue singlet Fito who jovially shows aff his baws and dips them in his opponents gubs. He IS ICW and he’s a cracking wrestler to boot. I don’t mean that like “its fun to kick him” I mean in addition to the earlier points, he’s also an excellent performer.
The festivities began with Kid Fite giving his protege Kenny Williams one last lesson. The all important “dont throw any of yer gear at a heel, as he might/probably will rub his baws on it” lesson. No sooner had Kenny playfully lobbed his glove in Fito’s direction, he found it nestling safely in amongst a pair of baws. Tired from aw the hi-jinks, Kid Fite decided he had nae interest in the opening exchanges of this one, so it was down to the other three to get the wrasslin going. Stevie started off strong, kicking cunts and looking solid as fuck, before Noam and Kenny reversed a double suplex attempt into a double team forearm to the jaw. A wee double hiptoss followed as Champagne Superbollocks were in full flow, but the harmonious hammerin they were giving Stevie came to an abrupt end when Kenny tried to catch Noam with a cheeky wee sneaky rollup. Noam caught Kenny plum on the jaw with the ripest of dropkicks in response, before Stevie got back in amongst it, calling the Dundee crowd a bunch of inbreeded two dicked bastards, and responding to the legion sign being chucked in his face by gaun “DDP aye?” before finding himself being launched full pelt at Noam Dar by the re-emergence of Kid Fite. Of all the ways to announce your involvement in a multi-man match, I think chucking one of yer opponents at another one is up there with the most emphatic ways it can be done. Topped only by “eliminating one of your opponents by strapping a rocket to his arse and launching him towards the sun”
They all had a wee shot of smacking each other. Noam delivering a particularly sare looking enziguri, before Fito ended the sequence with a beauty of a clothesline. Kenny and Noam combined for forearm fuck out of everyone, but Fito wis having none of it. Uppercutting and splashing them both, before he continued the theme of “flingin cunts at other cunts” by firing Kenny at a stricken Stevie Boy in the corner, before he bolted to the other corner to dislodge Noams jaw with a hesitation dropkick. A swift brainbuster followed that but just fell short of the 3 count Fito needed to give The 55 their first title since forming. Noam and Kid Fite has a picturesque exchange that involved Noam scudding James R.Kennedy off the apron, before Stevie re-asserted his position as the champion by punching Noam Dar quite hard in the face. If any champions out there are struggling to assert themselves in any walk of life, try punching folk in the face. It does an effective, if slightly short term job. They kicked and punched each other a fair bit, as ye do in the wrestling, before Noam caught Stevie in the kneebar. Game’s (perhaps) a bogey here eh?
Well not quite, but it was indeed a big massive bogey shortly after, as it came down to Stevie vs Kenny. Mano e mano. Champ vs former champ. The bollocks vs the guy who pinned the bollocks with a Canadian Destoryer to retain his title. Probably should have said “spoiler alert” there eh? But aye. Stevie hit the Destoryer and retained, because if ye weren’t listening earlier…that’s his belt. AAF.
Entertaining as fuck. Cracking way to open the tour.
Chris Renfrew vs Mikey Whiplash
Renfrew kicked this off by basically telling Dundee to fist themselves. I know that’s not what he actually said, but if ye combined all his insults, and genetic deficiency based humour, it would probably come out as “fist yersells ya snaggle toothed, sister shaggin bastards” before congratulating a Dundee family for becoming the first people willingly sewn into a human centipede in order to save money on food shopping, but the point in his promo wis that there wis nae chance he was wrestling. Except Mikey Whiplash came out, called his promo a “shit second rate Kevin Bridges impression” and of course they wrestled after that. Thats some top quality cheek, and it got the reaction Whiplash was looking for, as Renfrew went from “uhm ah fuck wrestling tonight” to “ITS JUST ME AND THIS MOTHERFUCKER TONIGHT” Sounded almost vaguely romantic, until the romance was brought to a close by Whiplash jumping in the ring via a cross body from the stage.
Whiplash fired straight into the triple suicide dive spot and but Renfrew dodged the third one, escaping to the bar area to pump yer maw, before Whiplash chucked him into a door. They made it back to the ring, where Renfrew laid Whiplash out with Greetings From Silent Hill (aka a big sare as fuck looking lariat) but that lariat might have been counter-productive whilst nursing a sore hand, and Whiplash certainly targeted that area with an armbreaker into the Lebell Lock, and when Renfrew got out of that, Whiplash proceeded to stand on the injured hand. He even bit it, and ran it through an electrical pencil sharpener for a bit before he was hit with a STONE COLD STONER OUTTA NOWHERE, only for Whiplash to stumble back and rebound off the middle rope in the form of that middle rope clothesline that’s every bit as sare looking and emphatic as Renfrew’s lariat. They leathered each other with rapid forearms, with Whiplash getting the better of it and locking in the Fujiwara Armbar, whilst pretty much screaming at Renfrew to tap. He did not comply and Whiplash went up top to resolve the matter, only for Renfrew to catch him wae a beauty of a sitout spinebuster. Quite enjoyed Whiplash targetting the arm and the slower pace to this yin, but there’s nae doubt there’s a singles match somewhere down the line between these two that involves them ripping each other’s souls out, shitting on them, and putting them back in. Shat on souls.
Whiplash locked in the crossface chickenwing, clearly fuckin sick of trying to get the cunt tap by bending his sore arm, but in the end the only tapping was yer man Tam Kearins tapping the mat three times consecutively after Whiplash hit the Death Valley Driver for the win.
Whiplash of course wisnae satisfied with just winning a wrestling match, and decided he had to round the whole affair off by scrambling Renfrews brains with multiple chairshots to the dome, but The NAK made the save before any real damage was done, and Wolfgang stayed out, cause he was up next! Daein that wrestlin!
Wolfgang vs Joe Hendry
It kicked off with a big suplex, big lariat, big knee to the jaw. That’s what Joe Hendry’s about. A combative power wrestler with charisma. That’s a version of Joe I’m right on board with. This new thing he’s doing when he makes a new rip the piss video for every opponent? It’s no for me. Loses its effectiveness if you do it for everyone, especially if you’re finding yourself on the sharp end of a big L more often than not. Turning a motorbike into a wee lassies pedal bike is not only impossible, but its bloody silly. Don’t poke the bear mate, and don’t transform the vehicle of a wolf either. It’s not kosher. He will batter/eat ye.
Wolfy spent most of this one working the leg, as Joe rallied with the occasional power move, but he was never really in it tae win it. All the leg work was met by a beauty of a DDT from Hendry, as 20 or 30 of the folk in the crowd managed to somehow combine to create a real chant! Amazing so it was. Chorus after chorus of “Joe Hendry…Local Hero” echoed round the raucous Dundee crowd, before Wolfgang hit a beauty of a popup powerbomb and silenced it all. Texas Cloverleaf next, wretching in agony. Pain.
But there was a good bit of resolve in Hendry. Proper character. He got to the ropes with HEART. But as the auld saying goes…big hearts cant melt brass knucks, and after Wolfy placed the brassers on his hand, there was only one outcome. Despite Joe evading the first knuckle duster attempt with the fallaway slam, the second attempt hit the mark and Wolfy got the pin.
Grado vs Damo
There’s a lot you can buy into regarding the Drew vs Grado feud, but my favourite thing about it is matches like this. Guys who wouldn’t usually be put up against Grado having a shot at him in an attempt to make him take this seriously. First up was Big Damo, who had set up the match by slapping Grado across the mug in a backstage segment “for his own good”. I’m sure the intense battering he was about to hit him wae was all for his own good anaw, and Damo would derive absolutely no pleasure from delivering it. None at all.
Damo’s attempts to get a reaction from Grado early on were met with comical responses. “gies a brek!” he cried. Mon noo. Yer in there with a real life human bear…GET FUCKIN ANGRY OR DIE. Another shove was one shove too many as Grado finally snapped. Slapping Damo across the face and shouting “MON THEN YA BIG HAIRY BASTARD” (that sounds lit suhin I made up eh? Watch it On Demand and find out its no..) before unleashing rapid jabs. Aw the jabs. A big splash in the corner as well. This is a Grado we’d never seen before and the beast was rattled, until he rattled Grado’s chin with a huge clothesline out the corner. Deid. Change the main event for the SECC, cause we’ve got us a deid Grado! Damo then delivered his first ever chest stand into a senton combo on a deid body, as he shattered what was left of Grado with that belly blootering move. Its no fuckin right daein that to a deid guy but you’d struggle to find anyone brave enough to take issue with Damo over it. We just had on in horror as he battered fuck oot ae a deid guy.
Damo continued to pile it on, but Grado suddenly showed signs of life. A remarkable feat for someone who wis deid less than 5 minutes earlier and I believe the first ever transition from deid to alive in wrestling history. He went for the wee boot, but Damo ducked it and went for a big boot, only for Grado to hit THE R-GRA-DO OUTTA NAEPLACE, and now Grado wis the real Grado. The guy that jumps aff balconies, and gets his cunt kicked in aff Whiplash only to keep coming back for more. The gallus bastard we aw fell in love with. This is the Grado needed to beat Drew. Nae big entrance and nae having a giggle with the crowd. There’s gonnae be 4,000 people in that venue and the only way to send them home buzzing is tae turn up with the game face on and win that belt. Shake, rattle and roll had Damo rattled before a trio of Bionic Elbows took The Beast down to one knee. He tried to get the big man up for the F5 but that’s just daft. Brock Lesnar would struggle to get Damo up for an F5 ffs. He dropped the big man and he eased Grado into the corner, only for Grado to dodge a splash attempt and hit Damo wae the Roll n Slice. Slicing right through the big brute, but Damo’s one of the best in this whole continent right now. In fact, fuck it, the whole planet. And he was STUNNED when Grado kicked out at one after another rib shattering senton. Naw wait, he was AFFRONTED. How fuckin DARE HE.
Damo was maybe quietly thinking he has underestimated Grado as he surely put the finishing touches to this one with the Ulster Plantation (Electric Chair Drop) but when yer man kicked out at 2 that time Damo genuinely looked out of ideas. Short of kicking his intestines out and shoving them up his arse, there seemed to be nae beating Grado this night. Then it happened. WEE BOOT. The win that might just put the fear up Drew. Beating the man Drew couldn’t (first time around anyway) but then it happened. The procession of absolute bastards. Wrecking it. Black Label and The 55 stormed the ring. No contest.
Then it was Red Lightning time….
Red Lightning vs Grado
Red Lightning won this impromptu match via pinfall, improving his record since returning to in-ring action to 4-0.
Red Lightning then inserted himself in another match, almost instantaneously.
Red Lightning vs Damo
Red Lightning covered Damo and HE KICKED OOT. Everyone pretty much shat themselves in the wanner, but Drew hit him with the big boot and the Futureshock DDT leaving Red to cover him and make it 5 AND FUCKIN 0 BAYBAAAAY.
Red Lightning is everything a heel should be. There is nothing about him you’re supposed to cheer but the way he goes about his business and plays his role on the show is always up there with the most entertaining aspects of the show. I don’t think the cunt’s ever been on a show where he didn’t make some sort of impact.
BT Gunn vs Joe Coffey
2014 was an outstanding year for ICW, but two men in particular stood head and shoulders above the rest wrestling wise. Two men who were seperated by maybe 4 or 5 votes in the race to be crowned ICW wrestler of the year. Back at it again. Lets be huvin it! Mon Dundee, surely yees can get buzzin for this prime slice of wrasslin rerrness!
BT Gunn opened it up with some stiff jabs, Joe’s retorts in the form of uppercuts were just as stiff. A wee low dropkick on the apron sent Joe to the floor, before the chop procession began. A few tit reddening stoaters had Joe desperately seeking his left nipple, before BT hit a suplex quickly followed by a back suplex. Aw the suplexes. BT continued to pour on the punishment, before a “topknot wanker” chant was started by one daftie and joined in by naecunt cause NEITHER OF THEM HAVE A TOPKNOT, TOP KNOTS TEND TO BE ON THE FUCKIN TOP. Another cunt who’d pulled his patter muscle earlier that day. Joe took some more chops before he started to “hulk up” (I mean he seemed impervious to pain when I say that btw, not that he was outed as a racist, thus ruining all our childhood memories of him in one go) and a few chops later Joe might as well have been pointing at BT gaun “yooooooooooooooooo” because suddenly he was Joe goin tonto. Chucking BT 200 feet in the air, before catching him on the way down with a stoater of an uppercut. Nae offence to Dundee again, I mean I’m sure they have really nice eateries and a seaside ye just NEED tae see (seaside on Deeside) but fuck me, if I can hear BT Gunn narrate his own match, yer no making enough noise. They took turns of leathering each other in opposing corners, before BT took Joe to his knees with a superkick, only for him to rebound off the ropes straight into a swooping big brain scrambler of a lariat.
They stood toe to toe and smashed each other once more. Two of the best pure jaw jackers in the game, of course they did. Neither man blinked. They ran the ropes, choppin and superkickin, before BT chopped Joe square in the face, also known as a “slap” but pretty much everything BT Gunn does is a chop, even when it’s no. Angle Slam took Joe down once more, but the Iron Man’s not for turning. Nae way he was letting they shoulders hit the mat for 3. He hit BT with the swings, followed by a slingshot into the corner. Huge deadlift German brought a two count, and wae Joe gaun Milkybar Kid on BT (cause the Milkybar Kid is strong and tough…..that wis the jo….ah forget it) Stevie Boy made the timely intervention, only for Davey Boy to intervene his intervention, chasing Stevie haufway to that dodgy bit of Perth that’s more populated by needles than people, before hitting BT with the SPEAR. He’s and ANIMAL monsoon. Etc etc…aw that patter. Basically he’s angry. BT swiftly scooped up his internal organs and got himself back in the match by scudding oe square in the baws, but he swallowed a big fuck off discus lariat soon after and Joe took the win.
Sammi Jayne vs Debbie Sharpe
Nikki Storm is cracking eh. Masking her cheekiness towards Sammi Jayne as mentoring, when her main role in Sammi Jaynes life is reminding her that she’s slightly worse than Nikki in every way. Sammi Jayne’s gettin sick of it though. Helping Nikki exit the ring at the start of the match before immediately bolting to the other side and hitting Debbie Sharp with a suicide dive. Signalling the start of the wrestling.
The wrestling continued with Debbie belting Sammi with 4 or 5 clotheslines in the corner before blocking a hiptoss to floor her with another clothesline. Mare clotheslines than yer grannys back garden so she has! (ha ha! get it? patter….) an enziguri from Sammi got her back in the ascendency while Nikki Storm wis on periscope talking about her favourite eyeshadow and how she was gonnae get an open top bus to cruise roon Glesga for the day after she wins the ICW Womens Title tournament. Sammi was again distracted by Nikkis superiority and Debbie swept her off the apron, before climbing up on said apron herself and kicking Sammi right in the chest. A right sare yin.
A classy wee exchange between the two led to Sammi missing a top rope cross body. Landing right on her coupon and giving Debbie the opportunity to continue performing offensive moves. Clotheslines and a nice wee bitta suplex action had Sammi reeling, but she hit back with a nice bit of suplex action of her own. This time a German. Debbie responded to that with a Firemans Carry Sitout Slam, a move that was so impressive, Nikki Storm periscoped hersell giving it a hearty thumbs up, but the pleasantries were brought to an end by Sammi hitting the Slingshot Neckbreaker for the win.
Polo Promotions vs The Black Label (ICW Tag Team Title Match)
The Black Label are heels. If you shout things at heels in a venue where they can specifically pinpoint who said things and what they said, yer asking for it. These people are in character and right now their characters dictate that they have to be pricks. If 90% of the crowd used tae go daft for Jack Jester, he needs tae ensure they no longer do that or turning heel means fuck all. So he’s gonnae come out, and pretend the mic is his penis, and call people names. If yer gonnae get wide, don’t get butthurt when folk get wide in return. It was uncomfortable right enough. Polo Promotions burst oot the travel Scrabble while Jester was arguing with the guy and I’ve heard from a reliable source that DCT won by spelling out “promiscuity” using tiles that say “oh” on them. Jackie Polo looked like he might be warming to Polo Promotions being fully fledged good guys these days, when he came out and hoisted the belt above his heid with half a smile on his face. Polo Promotions might be the only folk in ICW who legitimately don’t gie a fuck if anyone likes them or not, and that of course makes everycunt love them. They were even allowed to have DCT and Coach Trip at ringside, but only if they were tied to a ringpost each, cause ye know….fair is fair. And in Red Lightnings world, that’s as fair as the hair on yer auld maws heid.
Scrabble and hi-jinks aside, there was a wrestling match to be had and it turned out to be the best one of the night. Jester is a born heel. Feels weird to have been going to ICW for over 3 years and never really getting what he was about, but now he’s a villain it all makes sense. A scoop slam immediately followed by gien Jackie Polo the vickies is heel as fuck, and he backed that up with a mad discus double axe handle before Coffey connected with a high dropkick and tagged Polo in for the scoop parade. Three scoops, and a wee dollop of chocolate sauce. Polo had Jester getting right friendly with the canvas, but Jester got back to his feet and yer man Drew made a blind tag, before pulling the top rope down on Jackie and sending him flying. Battering him aff ring aprons and such. Mark Coffey was doing that daft face thing where they keep arguing with the ref while their tag partner gets pummelled, but its ICW mate. No DQ always. Just pull a knife on the cunts. Polo had his arms tied up in the barrier before Drew delivered a tit tanking chop right to the eh….well, tits of course. Something amazing happened after that, see that fuckin spot Sheamus does when he ties the cunts arms up and batters their chest for about 10 year? I always fuckin despised it for some reason, and Drew done it in a way that I didnae hate. I think it’s because he actually properly smashed fuck out of Jackies chest and as much as I’m Polo daft, he’s usually the guy doing the battering in these tag team title matches, so it was a different dynamic to see him getting a tanking. I liked this match a lot. Gid tag wrestling.
Drew was just being a right bastard in general. Even gave Coach Trip a wee dropkick just for having the audacity to stand where he was standing, before him and Jester continued to kick the living fuck out of Jackie in the corner. Jackie hit back with a wee chop flurry of his own, but he was pulled from the corner by the ref and smacked upside the nut with a single legged dropkick. Drew climbed up top after dragging Jackie over to the corner with him, but Jackie pulled him off the top arm first and then we had by far the hottest tag in Polo Promotions history. Mark Coffey coming in like a hoose full of hooses on fire. Hooses within a hoose within fires within a fire. Fifty forearms to the jaw, followed by a big lariat took Drew to canvastown, before a big fitbaw kick to the belly took Jester out. Springboard back suplex took Drew down once again, a move that probably wouldn’t happen if they were villains. It’s a right eye-catching crowd pleaser so it is. They’re full on good guys now I think. Jackie Polo is no longer in denial. I look forward to the Polo Promotions t-shirts and wristbands coming out soon as fuck. Drew was all over the shop, and before he even knew whit wis happening, he was nailed with the Assisted German Suplex for surely the auld 1…2…NUT. Red Lightning, the owner of the most impressive winning streak in wrestling today and ruiner of all things good and pure broke up the pin. Leaving Drew and Coffey to full on leather fuck oot each other with jabs, forearms and various forms of kick to the gut. Drew ended the sequence with another huge dropkick, and the game looked to be up when they went for a double team spike piledriver, but hauners were at hand!
Damo knocked Jester off the top, before Grado emerged to wee boot Drew intae next month, and Coffey swiftly rolled him up. Polo Promotions retain. As always. Unless yer gonnae bring back the Legion of Doom in their prime, or someone kills Mark Coffey with a trident, they belts are showing nae signs of going anywhere.
Damo and Grado departed as heroes and pals. The Black Label departed raging as fuck, and Mark Coffey was awarded Man Of The Match for his efforts. With that being said, lets end the review with player ratings.
Ratings are out of 10
Polo Promotions (4-4-2)
Jackie Polo (c) 9 – Defensively solid when he had to be, and had a bit more vigour in attack than usual. Seems to be enjoying his wrestling immensely these days, and it shows in the way he works cohesively with his team-mates. A captain should lead by example and he certainly does that. He keeps things ticking in that engine room.
Mark Coffey 9 – Technically one of the soundest wrestlers on the planet. A constant danger with his forearm delivery, causing problems for opponents from Drew Galloway to Dave Conrad. A clinical display, and the finish for the winner was as cool and composed as you could ask for.
DCT 8.5 – If DCT was a full-back, he’d be Ashley Cole. A solid worker, with an eye for the ladies, who always seems to find himself attached to a pole. OH!
Damo (sub) 8 – Emphatic
Grado (sub) 8 – Vital assist for the winner.
Coach Trip 10 – Tactical powerhouse. 4-4-2. Outlandish in this day and age, and who can argue with the results?
The Black Label
Drew Galloway 7 – Performance wise he couldn’t be faulted, but concentration let him down at the winner. Will be looking for a big performance to bounce back from this.
Jack Jester 7 – Really good at being raging. A raging heel. Could do nothing to prevent the winner but that won’t stop him feeling like he should have
Red Lightning 6 – Pre match interview promised much but on the day his team couldn’t deliver. Arguably his insistence on having everyone batter Grado and Damo earlier in the night motivated them to make the impact they did when they came on. Tactics have to be better.