A Review Of ICW Fear And Loathing AT THE HYDRO

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To run The Hydro once is quite a feat. I mean its big int it. Proper big. Big enough that if you fired some grass in the middle, Nottingham Forest could use it for home games. That’s big time right there. They filmed RAW in there last year for god sake! A real episode of RAW where we had all our Noam’s well and truly Darred. Prince had a gig in there. Even the Mrs Browns Boys team had a wee look before deeming it too small to contain the amount of dribbling numpties that would pay to see that shite but they’re ta cheats so fuck them. To run it once as a Scottish wrestling company is the stuff dreams are made of, but to run it twice? That’s making it. That’s showing it wasn’t some mad fluke, and it didnae just happen because Dallas rubbed a lamp really hard and got three wishes. It happened because a lot of hard work went in to building something that could run a venue like this. Whether you love, hate or are completely indifferent to ICW that has to earn respect. ICW made dreams come true, then a year later they made them come true again. Next year the dream gets bigger. Fuck Hampden, Ibrox and Celtic Park. ICW’s runnin the Nou Camp! 110k, and the rest can watch ootside on a big screen. A wee holiday into the bargain. Nah? Too far??

We opened with Dallas, Sweeney, Toal and Scott Reid introducing us to the show. Dallas giving us a wee history lesson of ICW before introducing none other than Kevin Nash to the ring. Big Nash is the coolest wrestler to ever exist if he’s nothing else, and still stoats about like he has not a care in the world. When you’re 7 feet tall and sexier than a bag of Chris Hemsworths in yer 50s, there’s really not a lot to be worried about. He was buzzin that he could say fuck, and told anyone who fancies getting out of line that they’d get smacked with a steel chair. Anyone unhappy with him being announced as the commissioner for this year’s show surely must have been placated by this declaration because that’s the job in a nutshell really. Anyone starts acting up. Chair to the napper. Job’s a good yin.

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The show blew last year’s out the water, but don’t take my word for it, take my several words about it that will appear below. Or you could watch it on demand I suppose, but who has 3 hours to watch a show when you could spend 5 hours reading a review about it. Aye ok…here’s a link for on demand. Sorry for wasting yer time. https://icwondemand.pivotshare.com/

To those still with us, welcome. First up, everyone’s two favourite things, ladders and Bram!

Aaron Echo vs Kid Fite vs Bram vs Joe Hendry vs Jodie Fleisch vs Ravie Davie vs DCT (Ladder match for the ICW Undisputed Title Number One contendership)

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Ravie Davie secured his place in the match by being the most mental bastard in Glesga on Saturday night and doing a blockbuster off the balcony in The Garage on his way to beating Bram. A lot of people vocally don’t like Bram, and fair enough, if its Bram the wrestler you protest against that’s your opinion, but he’s very good at his job (that’s my opinon). Folk like DCT and Davie have had career shaping moments because of the red hoat fire Bram brings to the ring with him. His evil brings the best version of their good to the forefront. Ravie Davie was last to enter and met by an angered Bram, who at this point had an 0-2 record against a wee guy fae Govan chasing a dream. Raging so he was. They battled about a bit, and Aaron Echo done a beautiful big Undertaker dive, much like the dive him and big Iestyn performed in stereo last year. With that, the ladder match was off and…eh…climbing I guess. Cause ladders.dctjodie

DCT (as seen above having the fuckin time of his life clearly) plonked a ladder on his heid and spun around to take all other competitors out the game, before him and Davie took shots each of jabbing their mutual foe Bram, as Bram spat literal fire in frustration, burning both their eyebrows off in the process. Hunners of low blows followed, including one from the formerly wholesome Joe Hendry. Fully embracing his role as a bad yin and rounding off a succession of fallaway slams with one on a ladder to Kid Fite. Jody Fleisch hit a fucking beautiful moonsault off a massive ladder on to everyone, reminding everyone he’s still stupidly good at wrestling and apparently suicidal moonsaults off big massive ladders.

With bodies scattered about, Fear and Loathing’s most prolific performer saw his plan shoot into action. Lou King Sharp and Krieger emerged to tip the odds in Fito’s favour and got a few digs in before The Purge followed to take them out the equation. The Purge had nae dug in this race so god knows whit their ploblem was but the whole thing not working out sadly meant the end of Kid Fite’s attempt to make his 10th Fear and Loathing his most successful one. A shame, him winning would have been a well deserved feat for a man who has been a big part of ICW as a performer and nurturer of talent for the entirety of its existence but the story of who wins this yin was never meant to be a fairytale. It wasn’t going to be DCT with a career making win on the big stage. Jody Fleisch wasn’t going to do it for the old school warriors who do it better than the whole generation they inspired. Aaron Echo wasn’t going to achieve an accolade that matches his boundless potential. Joe Hendry wasn’t going to take a significant step in becoming a prestigious champ who won’t say fuck or bugger. But maybe it could be Ravie Davie. Maybe he just had the level of mental it would take to out mental the rest. Maybe the boy fae the scheme could achieve that dream. The big one. A title shoat on a big show.

He battled up a big ladder with Bram on a nearby ladder, and decided jumping aff a balcony the night before wasn’t enough. Big spear off the ladder. A move that Edge will tell ye is an entirely regrettable decision on everyone’s part, but still looks mighty impressive.That gave Hendry the opening to win the belt but instead of climbing the ladder, he sent Leyton Buzzard up to get it, only for him to get unceremoniously skanted by Coach Trip. That left DCT with the opening, only to be thwarted by Jody Fleisch and with everyone else taken out, up went Davie for his destiny. Davie for the absolute moment of his career. 2-0 against Bram and the number one contender, thats whits happnin troops! Until it wisnae what was happenin at all troops. It took a turn. Martina and Davie’s cousin Zander burst out to help their man get there. Knowing a lot of good is required to counteract the face melting evil known as Bram.

One of them was up to nae good though. One of them had come to the dark side. Martina took a character defining can and smashed it over Zander’s head, before helping Bram ease a shattered Davie off the top of a ladder, all the way to a table on the outside. Breaking his heart, and probably his entire body in the one go. Bram sauntered up the ladder to grab the briefcase and earn himself a tile shot while his manager Red Lightning celebrated in his own special way. Jumping out with reckless abandon like a Da who’s just watched his team score the winner against their biggest rivals in the last minute. No one does wild celebrations quite like Red. Unbridled jubliation. Fuck-in-YASSSS.

Bram’s yer number one contender. Took Davie’s title shot and his missus in the process. Now despite having a 2-0 singles record against Bram, you want to see Davie smash him more than ever before right? Exactly.

Bird and Boar (w/Iestyn Rees) vs Polo Promotions – ICW Tag Team Title Match

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When Bird and Boar first took the tag titles from Polo Promotions it felt….eerie. There was almost a stunned silence in Newcastle that night, as if folk were looking at eachother wondering if it had actually happened. At that point they were still building a reputation in ICW and that win for the patriarchs of the ICW tag division was so vital in them being where they were heading in to this one. That win made them go from decent contenders you could count on for a good match to ruthless champions. Holding on to the titles for 8 months, growing more menacing and more Welsh as fuck with each passing month. Getting to The Hydro as champions was an achievement all on its own but this wasn’t for them. They weren’t the home team at The Hydro. They played a huge part in this being a brilliant feud and this match alone being a very good wrestling match, but this wasn’t their night. This was every single bit of that frustration that has been bubbling in Jackie and Mark since they lost those titles all those months ago coming out in the form of wrestling moves. Wrestling moves that would be combined in a fashion with one goal in mind. Get what they consider to be their property back, and become the THREE TIME tag team champions. Legends.

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Iestyn Rees was immediately banned from ringside, and while he was getting super raging about it, got hit with the best 3D The Hydro has ever seen 😉 For fans of big Iestyn, its sound. He’d have his moment. Despite the 3D start, it was Bird and Boar who dominated early. Isolating Mark Coffey and scudding him with all sorts of forearms. That’s proved an effective tactic, as they’ve clearly recognised the only guy who can stop Mark Coffey is two guys. They fired in with all that lovely double team stuff they do, Bird whipping Boar into the corner in the former of a cannonball before Jackie got in to take the Welshies to Scooplex City. More scoops than that Celtic Christmas party where Bobby Petta got the jail for flahsin a waitress in Jumpin Jaks. He followed the scoops up with a gorgeous bridging Northern Lights suplex, before the boaysies combined for a double back suplex. Poetry in best pal tag team motion. In about it.

Coffey had Bird and Boar where he wanted them as he unleashed mad jabs and chops, but you don’t get to be champions for the better part of a year without being a bit good. They hit one of the best double team moves out there today in Mrs Pattersons Revenge, a move that has put away everyone who’s taken it before but not the Polos. Not on this night. Up went Coffey’s shoulder to everyones astonishment, and the game continued. Next goal wins. They all jabbed, chopped and forearmed each other daft, before Bird and Boar got on top again. This time when Bird sent boar into the corner towards Polo, Jackie moved and the opening was there. Polo has the Rings of Saturn locked in on Bird but had spotted Boar going up top to break it up and moved just in time to see Boar splash Bird. It was time. The Old Man Of Hoy was hit moments later and your favourite, ma favourite, evdy’s favourite tag team had scooped up the gold for a third time.

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Iestyn Rees didn’t give them even a millisecond to enjoy it though. Out he came to leather the champs like a big greetin faced baby because his besties couldn’t get it done without his statuesque hauners. Big Kev told yees earlier he wasn’t having it and out he came to drive that point home by smacking fire out of big Iestyn and sending him packing before he handed Jackie and Mark their titles at long last. Re-united and it feels so goooood. Mark Coffey’s face when Kevin Nash put that belt in his hands was one of the purest most heart warming things I’ve ever seen in wrestling so it was. He was in awe of both the achievement and of the sexy big legend raising him and his best pals hand. A beautiful way to end a tremendous feud. If it is indeed the end. What else is there for Bird and Boar other than coming back for another shot? They’ve been the champs for so long, they’ll not like the feeling of walking in to the next show without the shiny belts but for now and maybe forever, they are back where they belong. Round the waists of one of Europe’s beat tag teams. 589 combined days as champions and counting. The team who beat the legendary Dudley Boyz with a simple scoop slam. The most effective, not to mention devastatingly handsome best pal tag team on this planet we call earth. Polo Promotions.

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Kenny Williams vs Rey Mysterio Jr

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Wee Rey is some boy int he. Built like a brick shithouse these days yet still flies about the ring like he’s that skinny wee guy Kevin Nash chucked like like a scrucnhed up Greggs wrapper. Kenny Williams had to wait a while for the wee legend, as he allowed his music to play for about 15 minutes while he finished off his pre match ritual of a good long shite while smoking a cigar. When Rey eventually arrived to a chorus of “where the fuckin hell were you” much to his rampant confusuon, it was high octane good shit. Blink and you’ll miss it type stuff. Fast and Furious 47 – The Wan Wae The Aw The Back Elba’s. The wan where the bollocks continued his legacy on the big stage. Kenny is undefeated at Fear and Loathing ye see. An Undertaker-esque streak in the making here. Although if he makes it to 21-0 Brock Lesnar will probably be about 60 odds and maybe not the streakbuster he once was. To Kenny’s great relief I’m sure, although a 60 year old Brock Lesnar could probably still chuck a cruiserweight over his napper without breaking a sweat.

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They dived about a bit before Rey teased the 619 (most commonly pronounced as the six hunner n nineteen) on both sides of the ring. He followed that up with a baseball slide into a splash on the outside which was lovely stuff. Backed that up with one of the classics in the form of the auld slingshot legdrop. Rey isn’t what he once was, but he’s adapted to his age and more muscular frame and still churns out a helluva wrestling match when he wants to let me tell ye. Thankfully for us this was one of those times he really wanted to. The A-Game was brought and Kenny would have to bring the bollocks or eh…be the bollocks. Something related to bollocks is the point here. He’s The Bollocks, have you heard?

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Kenny got going with a back elbow on the apron, before hitting a pair of crackin dives. The biggest compliment you could pay Kenny is that he never looked out-of-place in there with arguably the greatest to ever wrestle in his style and that’s a nice thing. A cool thing. A thing made even cooler when Rey blocked Kenny’s attempts at his own move, before he hit a perfect 619, followed by a frog splash only for Kenny to roll through and sneak the pin.

If its not the moment of his career to date, it has to at least be the biggest name he’s pinned for the uno, dos, tres. Love a wee roll through finish as well. Take the opponents momentum and use it against him. Tidy stuff. The stunned reaction he had when he won was similar to the one he had when he first beat BT Gunn a couple of years ago and that’s some neat continuity right there. He understands the level of talent he needs to beat to be where he wants to be and he’s out to prove he’s the man for that big occasion. He’ll lose sometimes but he’s never anything less than game for the next fight when he does. This could be a win that propels him to new heights and he never did get that rematch with BT Gunn for the Zero-G. Might be time to cash that one in considering the extra shinies BT has added to his collection lately eh.

Chris Renfrew vs Stevie Boy vs Jimmy Havoc vs Mikey Whiplash – King Of Insanity Match

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Murder and suicide are two things that quite often go hand in hand. A person can be so racked with guilt by a murder they’ve just committed that they decide the only escape is to take their own life. Sometimes its pre-meditated in an attempt to avoid the jail for a murder. Basically like having a straight choice between hell and the jail and choosing hell. When four people try to murder each other and kill themselves all at the one time, it’s not called a murder/suicide though. When its four people, it’s called the King Of Insanity match. I assume the winner is anyone who has any semblance of blood in their body by the time it’s over. The winner is anyone who hasn’t gone blind. The winner is anyone who can still feel all their extremities when it’s all said and done. The winner probably won’t feel like a winner, but they might not be dead, and that in itself is some sort of victory when you step into something like this. All four of these man really hate each other in some sort of way, and there was cinder-blocks in the ring, so we were at least seeing someone’s skull being cracked in half and the other three men having a kick about with his brain. Mikey Whiplash entered in a coffin, perhaps a precursor for how he and the other three men in this match would be leaving the ring. Deid.

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People look down their noses at this style of wrestling but when its done correctly its stupidly engaging. This wasn’t just done correctly, it was done in such a fashion that it arguably stole the show. It certainly was at least on par with a wonderful main event. Even if it’s not your cup of tea, if you weren’t drawn in by this, there’s no hope. Beautiful, poetic violence isn’t for you. They started out jabbing fuck out each other in what proved to be the mildest pain any of them would feel over the course of the night. You ever been punched in the face and been able to describe the pain as mild? Exactly. Stevie was sent into a barbed wire chair and bust open early doors before Renfrew and Havoc dodged a slingshot crossbody from Whiplash and simultaneously called him a wanker. Stevie came crashing down on all of them, before subjecting Renfrew to what would prove to be only the third sorest barbed wire based hit he’s take on the night when he landed on a barbed wire board after a superkick from Stevie. Socarpetmehow all 4 of them got a hold of staple guns and blocked each other’s finishers by…well, stapling each other to fuck. Did you not see where that one was going naw? Havoc then started giving out paper cuts and it was one of those rare times that the pain you see in wrestling is actually something you can relate to as a fan. Paper cuts are the bump we’ve all taken, and the bump none of us would thank you to take again…brotherrr.

Renfrew impaled Whiplash on a cross lined with carpet tacks. I assume he needed all of the skin on Whiplash’s back for some kind of winter duvet for a serial killer and that was the quickest way to get it. Stevie hit a coast to coast via a bin and Renfrew’s face, before Havoc put him through a table lined with barbed wire and wee liquid capsules of the drug they use to put elephants to sleep. Whiplash then pulled out a barbed wire board covered in some of the streamers the fans chucked in the ring for the Polo Promotions match, proceeded to wipe his arse with them, before Renfew hit him with a Death Valley Driver on to the board and the fucking thing would not yield. The only thing more painful looking then being put through a barbed wire board is being launched at one and the fucking thing refusing to break. Like being whipped into the ropes, but instead of ropes its stanley blades, and instead of bouncing off, your back gets cut up to fuck…because stanley blades.

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Thumbtacks got involved soon after that, because is it really a deathmatch if at least one person involved disnae end up with enough holes in their back for a dot to dot? A superplex from Renfrew sent Whiplash straight to the tacks not long after he’d T-Virus’d mad Jokey who had taken leave of her senses and actually got herself involved in what at this point you could only assume was some form of 4 way suicide pact. Havoc then took everyone’s finisher in some kind of brutal way, yet he wouldn’t die. A T-Virus on fuckin concrete blocks didnt kill him. You could tuck a live grenade up this cunts arse and he’d probably stand up and smile at you, while he scoops up his insides and eats them. The man’s not what you’d call “stable”. Stevie Boy had somehow hatched a plan amongst all these near death experiences. He spoke to god when Havoc put him through a table earlier in the night and god told him, Stevie my son, to win the prize you must kill the other guys. And kill them he did.

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First up was Renfrew. Backdropped through a barbed wire board on the stage and all the way through the stage. While this was happening Havoc had Whiplash covered and Stevie came bursting down, colouring the walkway with about a pint and a half of his blood before he took the next one out. Havoc duct taped to the bottom rope. Screaming at folk to give him a knife, or set a German Shephard on his to chew his hands off. Anything to get free. He would never get free though, and with a ladder set up with a table lurking below, Stevie hit the most destructive Destroyer of his, or anyone’s career. Off the ladder, through the table, for a truly brutal victory. 

Hardcore stuff gets a bad rap sometimes but like every form of wrestling out there, when it’s executed well it has the capacity to be fucking unreal. If it’s not for you, that’s sound. Each to their own in wrestling and indeed life in general, but we all love this and its important not to close your mind off to different kinds of wrestling. It’s important that the I in ICW still stands for something and if matches likes this are commonplace folk wont soon forget what the I stands for. Even if there’s not much of a roster left to take part in said matches since they often lead to multiple casualties. Plus what a fucking night for Stevie Boy. This wasn’t just him winning a match, it was him getting the better of three of the maddest bastards in British Wrestling at the one time. He looked every bit the top guy he is well on the way to becoming and having this win under his belt could be the thing that takes him from the next big thing to the main man right now. The 2017 King Of Insanity is coming for belts. Aw the fuckin belts. Clearly he’ll do absolutely anything required of him to make the belts his, so if you’ve got a belt, locks yer doors. Board up the windaes. 1,2….Stevie’s coming for you.

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Kay Lee Ray vs Kasey vs Viper – ICW Women’s Title Match inside a steel cage

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With Carmel as special guest enforcer we would see the never-ending story continue. Kay Lee Ray and Carmel are STILL fighting each other and one of them atually retired. That’s a story that truly stands the test of time. When one of them dies, you’re gonnae see segments with the other one backstage covered in muck, aiming right hooks at a coffin they just dug up. Kay Lee might never have a rival quite like Carmel but Viper and Kasey are proving to be just as troublesome in the sense that they keep trying, and occasionally succeeding in taking her belt. So much so that the only way to properly settle it is chucking the three of them in a cage and telling them to have at it. Kay Lee Ray kicked things off by superkicking the taste of Carmel’s gub and we were off. Well not quite. All three women had to be in the cage for the match to officially kick off, and upon seeing that superkick out came Kasey and Viper. Making the total count of wrestlers in the ring a cool 0.

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Kay Lee chucked Viper in the ring and locked Kasey out. A smart strategy, eliminating the chaotic element of a three way dance for a short while to focus on murdering one foe, but still. That made the wrestler in the ring tally stand at 2. A full one wrestlers short of the required amount. klrFinally Kasey climbed her way in and the bell rang. All sorts of madness ensued. Viper chucked Kay Lee like a lawn-dart into Kasey in the corner. Before they all got a shot each of their finishers. Viper Drivers, Killing Jokes and of course Gory Bombs for days. It was a cracking scrap when it got going as we watched all three exchange brutal jabs before those pesky Kings Of Catch got involved! In they came to literally pull Kay Lee towards her escape, but they were subjected to a brutal double baw hit at the hands of Kasey. Low blows neutralise foes as they (probably dont) say. All 5 folk in the ring then combined for a super charged tower of doom, before Viper looked to be free and clear to climb out, only to patch that winning the match patter in favour of nailing a topper for a crossbody off the cage.

Viper’s momentum was derailed not long after that by Kay Lee Ray heidbutting her through a table. Seen a lot of things in the wrestling but never someone get heidbutted through a table. It’s always good when something familiar breeds something entirely unfamiliar eh. Especially when it involves folk going through tables and heidbutts. With Viper out the game and Kasey down, up went Kay Lee to retain and continue her reign as the top burd, but Kasey is a different sort of animal now. Kasey went from ring crew on this show last year, to bearer of shiny belts on it this year. An amazing turnaround and one that happened because she worked her arse off to make it happen. Two wins over Kay Lee in consecutive nights, a main event of a Garage show in a losing effort to Kay Lee a few months ago and now a career defining feat, beating two of the top women’s wrestlers in the fuckin world in the one match. She tied Kay Lee’s legs up in the cage before fending off Aspen Faith to drop to the floor. Becoming the two time ICW Women’s Champion.

Amazing what can be done in the space of a year if you graft at it. From ring crew to winning a fucking steel cage match at The Hydro to become a two time Women’s Champion is remarkable stuff from Kasey, and her performances merit all the success she’s enjoying right now. To step in with two of the finest female wrestlers in the world and not look out of place is a feat in itself. All three adapted to the cage like they were auld pro’s at it, diving aff it and into it with reckless abandon.  Jimmy Snuka style without the murder. She said it’s a one night only thing but having Carmel back permanently would be a buzz. She added something to the match without detracting from the three women in it. Maybe a wee shot in the cage might persuade her to come back for another wee visit. I mean look how fun it looks, if your idea of fun is getting chucked in and around a literal death trap. As for Kay Lee and Viper I hope they’re still with us for years to come but they’re on the radar of the big boys so hopefully their defeat doesn’t mean they’re leaving us anaw. Its nice to see talented folk make career progression and that, but stop stealing ma favourite wrestlers ya bastards! Or at least let Noam visit every time ye sign someone. Fair is fair.

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Zack Gibson vs Rob Van Dam Vs Lionheart

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This was supposed to be Lionheart’s redemption, in there with one of his personal heroes, ready for the big win on the big show, two years after he’d been told there really wasn’t a lot of room for him on the big show. Maybe his time for the big occasion had past. He said fuck that, you’re wrong. Fuck you, am right. Shut yer mooth and let me frog splash the worlds greatest frog splasher. Then came stupit big brilliant baddie Zack Gibson with all the patter. Giving nothing beginning to resemble a fuck about Lionheart, ICW or even Rob Van Dam. It’s about making an impression for him, and the only way to do that is being a factor on the big show. He took to the mic to tell us all exactly why we were shite and he was better, and why we’d SOOOOOON be recognising those things as facts, before a bit of the wrestling broke out.

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Gibson was subjected to a two-man attack at the start. Taking a superkick off Lionheart and a mad spinny legdrop off RvD to kick it off. That’s the problem with being the baddest baddie on badstreet and being in there with a pair of goodies. Even with Lionheart eternally being known as a fanny, their combined good still outweighed his bad. Gibson would have his moments though. Not content with being a superb villain, he’s fucking great at wrestling into the bargain. Hitting a beauty of a leaping codebreaker on RvD before nailing Lionheart with a suicide dive, and jumping back in to lock in Shankly’s Gates on Van Dam. Shortly after that he was eliminated and that was the only lowlight of the show for me. Not enough Gibson. Rob Van Dam hit the 5 star Frog Splash to put Gibson down for 3, but it was Lionheart who got the pin and that set us up for the originally scheduled match before Gibson forced his way into it. The Whole Fuckin Fanny looking to open up and swallow The Whole Fuckin Show.

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RVD hit a whole selection of spinny kicks, followed by a bit of rolling thunder. Its good when wrestling happens from all sorts of mad angles eh. Thats why RVD will always be a personal favourite and why it was brilliant just to see him doing his thing at all. He does his thing differently from the way everyone else does it and that’s just a fuckload of fun to watch. Even when it’s getting on a bit, it’s still cracking. Lionheart looked focused as fuck despite taking all of the RVD back catalogue. The hits kept on coming, including the multi platinum selling split legged moonsault, until Hearto hit a topper of a DDT followed by his very own Frog Splash to secure a big time win. 

I liked the match, but as an unashamed big time RvD fan it was never likely to be a let down. Lionheart was right up for it and looked at his very best throughout. He’s taken a lot of stick, called a fanny by the majority of crowds up and down the UK, but when he turns it on there’s few better than him in the UK. He deserved his moment and you have to wonder where this places him now. Surely he must be looking at that world title. Two years after being told he was expendable, what better way to show them you aren’t than by holding all the gold. He looks like he’s having the absolute time of his life when he’s in that ring right now and more often than not when someone gives off that vibe, their work is of the very highest standard because that’s what its all about int it. Its supposed to be fun. Wrestling is a big daft patomime and if you lose sight of that it becomes like any other job. Shite.

The Kinky Party vs The Kings Of Catch

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Speaking of shite. The dirtiest match in wrestling history literally started with a shite. Talk about living up its billing eh. The shite didn’t take place in the ring thankfully, but in The Kinky Party’s dressing room (its not as bad as ye think right) as Sha was caught bawdeep in The Metro while finishing off his traditional pre match jobby, when the boaysies had a chap at the door telling them the match was about to start. Jester made time to give Prince a wee kiss as they hoofed it to the ring for a wrestle against the King Of Catch. If this match was announced a couple of months back you’d be like “Hydro? whit?” but both teams have been brilliant in the run up to the show. The Kings Of Catch were always very good at the wrestling and Girvan arguably stole the show at The Hydro last year, but their alliance with Stevie Boy and Kay Lee Ray has taken them up a level as a tag team. They’ve proper thrown themselves into it and something that might not have worked has instead elevated everyone involved. The same could be said for The Kinky Party, who have been cracking entertainment since their unlikely alliance began after Shug’s House Party. The dynamic has brought the best out in both character wise and has brought some of the funniest segments ICW has had in recent years. This match proved that it wasn’t just a big laugh though. They focused up and looked every bit the vastly experienced duo that they are. jester

The two teams battled up the ramp a bit, The Kings seemingly raging about being kept waiting by the Kinky Party’s mad shenanigans. Sha bust out the Fatsault (he calls it that, am no body shaming awrite, big is beautiful, everyone is beautiful) early on, before Jester went up top and hit a once in a lifetime cannonball captured spectacularly by David J.Wilson. All yer mad high flying Will Ospreay shit insnae usually Jester’s bag, but its The Hydro, and if there’s ever a time to jump on folk as if you’re sitting on a big comfortable armchair in mid-air, its when you’re wrestling at The Hydro. The Kings were in about some of that slick double team patter they’re good at, with The Kinkys busting out the double elbow drop as a retort. Sha took a beauty of a double superkick from Girvan and Faith, before that big dildo ominously got involved. Where does Jester even get that from these days. Not seen him carry it to the ring in ages. It’s like Aladdin summoning the genie by rubbing a lamp, but instead of rubbing a lamp, he rubs his or someone elses (with consent of course, we’re no starting a scandal here) fun parts.

The Kings were looking good for the win after Girvan hit that lovely rolling neckbreaker followed by a moonsault from Aspen but The Kinky Party are for real. They’re no JUST here to get steamin and get in situations that gives Sha that wide eyed “whit the fuck have I got myself into here?” look. Sometimes its about racking up W’s before ye get mad wae it and get one or both nipples pierced, and The Kinky Party done just that. Blocking The Kings Attempt at The Apter Burner before hitting a Spike Tombstone of their own for the win. 

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They celebrated with a bit of crowdsurfing as ye do. Cunts in the crowd need to stop dropping Sha but. I mean he’s nae crusierweight but a team of grown adults should be able to support his weight surely. Don’t be feart. He (probably) doesn’t bite. The Wee Man came out before the match and said he’d be offering his services to the winners so who knows where that’ll go. He’ll probably be subject to some form of initiation in a dungeon where Sha bails out early because he got spooked and took a mannequin a square go for looking at him funny. A hugely entertaining match that could easily have been forgettable considering all the good shit on the show. The fact that there was two straight up tag matches on the show and both were excellent shows you how good the tag division is right now. Kinky Party forever and ever but. For a team that came together without much of a plan, they’ve been tremendous entertainment and have been a big factor in the fun being injected back into ICW this year.

Joe Coffey vs BT Gunn – ICW Undisputed Title Match

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Its cool seeing the likes of Kurt Angle and Rey Mysterio in ICW. Even cooler to see homegrown guys chalk up career defining wins over them when they do pay a visit. Matching up with Angle and beating him in the main event last year felt like the culmination of a lot of hard work for Joe Coffey and that night will live with him for his whole career, but this was something else. This was two of the guys who have been at the absolute heart of this company as its grown. Integral every single step of the way. It’s only right that on the biggest night of the year, its them who have pride of place at the very top of the card. The two champions and two standout wrestlers of the past 4 or 5 years, Joe Coffey and BT Gunn. What a stoater of a battle it was when it got going as well. For me anyway, a standard only those two could produce on that stage.

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They blocked each others finishers right at the start as both looked to catch the other cold. Sometimes its not good to land a big shot early on right enough. Just ask the Celtic team when they went a goal up in Paris the other week. Sometimes its better to bide your time when faced with a big bastard devil dug instead of sticking a thumb in its eye right away. Or the devil dug might just eat ye. BT whipped out a succession of tit melting chops, before both men locked in their signature submission moves  with both making it to the ropes to force a break. It was like watching two heavyweight boxers feel each other out. Giving each other warnings before the telling blows really start to land. They scrapped a bit on the outside, Joe easing BT into the crowd before hitting a big running dive. As it was under Save Pro Wrestling rules, the referee was counting them out but Joe wrote that rulebook mate. He kens it inside out. Breaking the count before the two of them leathered each other all the way to a second count of 9, which saw them sprint back into the ring before continuing to wail on each other. BT hit a pouncing facebuster before Joe got the upper hand, forcing BT into the corner and hitting mad splashes. Nothing would work. Nothing was putting BT Gunn down. He entered the Hydro with both his alter ego’s at either side of him, but this BT Gunn almost felt like all three personas rolled in to one frightening ball. A ball that’s heavy good at the wrestling.

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BT hit a codebreaker off the top, before someone made the ill advised devision to make Big Sexy put down his beer and sort some dafties out. That someone was Joe Coffey, after BT mistakenly hit referee Sean McLaughlin with the Gunnshot, Joe saw an opening and after flooring BT with a good old fashioned headbutt, he urged Red Lightning (who was fuckin brilliant on commentary throughout the match btw) to chuck him a steel chair. Primed and ready to knock BT out, big Nash wasn’t having it. For all the cunt’s that were indifferent and even booed him being announced, I get it right, but he was every bit the authority figure you need yer commissioner to be in that situation. An absolute giant who commands respect. It takes a brave or perhaps a really fuckin stupit man to try to rebel against a guy that size, but god bless Joe for having a swing eh. It widnae be me mate, but you decided to go for it and that’s admirable in a strange way. After Nash patching Joe’s offer for a too sweet, Joe cracked him full force with the chair originally intended for BT. The look Nash shot him told Joe it wasn’t his brightest idea, but the whole saga gave BT a chance to get up and nail Joe with a superkick, before accepting Nash’s offer of a Too Sweet. A lovely moment before BT picked up the chair now complete with a big Diesel shaped dent in it to swing it at Joe. Joe ducked and hit the first of several discus clotheslines as Thomas Kearins entered the fray to count two.

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BT’s finisher the TechnoDrome DDT has a 100% success rate in ICW and is the only move that’s earned anyone a pinfall victory over Joe this year, so Joe kicking out of that told the story of what it was going to take to keep either of these mad bastards down for a three. So many lariats. BT went for the Gunnshot and Joe caught him German Suplex style. It was all happening let me tell ye. Joe was sick and fuckin tired of Thomas Kearins only counting to two, so tired he hit HIM with a German as well, and that left us with precisely nae refs. Sean McLaughlin was either deid at this point or he’d rolled under the ring to play Candy Crush on his phone, but either way, Red Lightning dragged him back in and literally counted with his cold deid hand only for BT to get the shoulder up again. Not tonight Joe ma man. Moose might have fallen. Keith Lee was put down for the 1,2,3. Every challenger with a set of baws and a set of boots has fallen at the feet of the Iron King but for once on the big stage, this was not to be his night.

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The lights went out and suddenly there was three BT Gunns in the ring. I dunno if it counts as three superkicks or one big massive one but either way, Joe took three crackin kicks to the jaw before BT hit all the classics. Gunnshot, that Technodrome Joe kicked out off, followed by a crossface that seemed like it was getting the job done. Joe looked on the cusp of tapping but Rudo isnae just a manager. He’s not just a world class agent. He’s a get out of jail free card in a fetching grey suit. If Joe was drowning the bottom rope was his lifeboat and Red pushed it towards him, urging him to fight to keep that World Title, but there was nae fight left and after Red was superkicked out of the equation by BT 2 and BT 3, Joe could fight no more and he tapped out. BT Gunn securing the only title that’s eluded him as both his ICW Title reigns came before it was a World Title. Every fuckin honour you could think of has been BT Gunns at one point and its nice to see someone who for a long time was criminally underrated across the UK get the recognition he richly deserves. Both of them deserved that platform and produced a match well worth the spot it had. 

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Joe has hinted that this is the end of the road for him in ICW for now and if that’s the case, I think folk will only truly start to appreciate how good he is in his absence. No matter where he was on the card or what he was given to work with, the level of performance has never wavered and he done an admirable job as champion. Decisively beating everyone chucked in his path which have him an air of infallibility that made BT’s win over him even more significant. It’s all well and good beating a champion, but to beat one who’s been a real life superhero for years is another thing altogether. A wonderful feat and one that will hopefully be just a wee chapter in both of their stories. I sincerely hope if Joe is done its temporary and he’s just recharging the auld batteries, but if that’s really it and he’s off to pastures new, its been an absolute pleasure to see him do his thing to such a brilliant standard for so many years. From the best of 5 with Noam Dar, to the thankless struggle to get to the mountain top, all the way to a very strong title reign. BT has big boots to fill but something tells me he has more than enough to do the job. All the goodies jumped in the ring to celebrate with the new champ as they ended the Hydro the same way France 98 had ended the night before. In a mad taps aff party. Tits oot for the Hydro.

Overall a top quality show. From top to bottom a better show than the year before, and when it comes to running a venue the size of The Hydro, improvement is all ye can ask for. The crowd might have been a bit down from the previous year, but the quality of the show and ICW shows in general this year would say it wont be down again next year. Considering the stars that ICW have lost over the past year, to still get 4,000 folk to a British Wrestling show is a massive achievement. These mad bastards are only getting started.

Big thank you to David J Wilson as usual for the liberal use of his wonderful photos, and of course Warrior Fight Photography. 

 

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Review: ICW Fear And Loathing 9 AT THE HYDRO

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From 30 people in Maryhill to 6200 in The Hydro. A fairytale. Rags to riches. Cindarella story. Started from the bottom now we here. Community centres to nightclubs to really big nightclubs to iconic music venues to really big iconic music venues to fuckin full scale arenas. You’ve heard it all before. If you were looking for anything any different from this review I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed. The reason you’ve heard that patter a lot is because it IS amazing what ICW have done. This show happening at all represented monumental triumph not for British Wrestling, not even for Scottish Wrestling, it was a monumental triumph for ICW. For the people who worked tirelessly to get ICW to this point. The fact that it undoubtedly has a knock on effect for the rest of the scene is nice and important but it’s not the whole scene who get to bask in the glow of this. This is for the daft cunts who put their bodies and sanity on the line to make this happen. This was their night. They represented ICW above everything else and showed the world what ICW was all about. No it wasn’t the best ICW show ever. In fact ICW have run and will run better wrestling shows, but it was a remarkable spectacle and a fuckin good wrestling show to boot. A night to be proud of and a launching pad on the way to selling the fucker oot in a years time for Fear and Loathing 10.

It started with a Finn

The only thing more beautiful than Surprise Dev….sorry auld habits n that…Surpise Balor, is a Balor that you were very much expecting. Surprise Balor would have been nice, but the first time it happened I literally had to peel myself aff the fuckin floor. In case your new to this site or new to the concept of having functional eyes, Finn Bfinnalor is an attractive man. I’m burd daft mate. Love them. Boobs n that. Boobs aw day. But Finn is the exception. You are a died in the wool lying bastard if you can tell me with a straight face no matter what way you swing that ye widnae scran melted chocolate buttons aff that boys abs. In all seriousness but, it was so very beautiful to see him back in an ICW ring. Something I genuinely never thought would happen again. Not because he told us a lie when he said “It’s not goodbye, it’s just see ya later” he would never lie to us, but I just assumed it was modesty at play and he didn’t actually realise WWE would want to employ him forever and ever. They still do employ him btw, yet there he was, in some parallel universe where ICW run The Hydro and WWE allow contracted performers to appear elsewhere. Like a dream kiddin on its a human being. Balors Irish Dream. He spoke of not wanting to let cunts run riot in the company he loves and that he’d be behind that curtain dishing oot doings to anyone who tries it.

Joe Hendry vs Davey Blaze

This was always supposed to happen eh. Nae offence to “The Local Fire” but that’s a stupit name for a team that never did make a lot of sense. Two guys with completely different sets of ideals teaming for tenuous reasons. Perhaps more unnatural than that, a guy fae Glesga teaming wae a guy fae Embra! Like if Jack Jester suddenly started teaming with Solar or suhin ridiculous like that, you’d know fine well joehemian.jpgthe whole thing was gonnae end with Jester tombstoning him through the centre of the earth. Davey came out first and looked mean because he’s a baddie now, meaning he gets to use the Davey Blaze name and gets to wear the Davey Blaze pants. All very Blaze indeed. He looks exponentially more raging than he ever did and that’s nae mean feat cause he’s always at least a bit raging at something. Joe emerged to his own version of Bohemenian Rhapsody which was pretty fucking wonderful. As much as he wouldn’t much like the injection of profanity there, so fuck mate. I’ll fuckin describe yer brilliant entrance any fuckin way I want. It was heavy good, and the four Hendry heads looking at and interacting with each other was hilarious. It was all a ripping good time then a wrestling match broke out and ruined it aw.

Davey dominated the early exchanges, controlling the bout with jabs and calling people in the front row nasty names. He had Joe in a pretty sare looking Guillotine choke on the outside before Joe reversed it into a superb suplex on the ramp. Joe kept getting distracted by The Wee Man which gave Davey many opening to do many spears. He went up top and got caught and fallaway slammed to buggery because that’s not your forte Davey pal. Only time you should be up there is when you want absolutely everyone in the building to see you grabbing yer crotch as opposed to those just at eye level. While we’re on about crotches, I know he’s from Edinburgh but I’m absolutely not having Joe Hendry continually referring to Davey’s dick as his “Bobby” cause people fae Edinburgh definitely say “Boaby” mate. Even if they say it a bit funny, they say it. Naecunt calls it a Bobby.

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Joe gained the upper hand with that mad palmstrike thing he does which I’m very much intae. Its very street fighter as fuck, but Davey’s retort of a kick to the baws was very street fight as fuck. It was all fun and games until Joe took Davey up the top rope and tossed him clean over his heid for the win. A decent opener, and the right spot for Joe’s entrance to be in for sure. Wee Man took a fallaway slam before Davey took Wee Man up the road and Joe was left to soak in the adulation of the adoring public.

Carmel Jacob vs Kay Lee Ray vs Viper (ICW Women’s Title Match)

Kay Lee. Kay Lee. Kay Lee fuckin Ray ‘mate. I know her and Stevie are the fuckin dirtiest baddest baddies on the roster/residing on earth right now but this was their night and it was terrific to see them shine on the biggest stage ICW has ever appeared on. Viper emerged next and I’m nae lipreader but she definitely said “wow” when she went up to the second rope to have a good look at the crowd and that’s just so fuckin nice is it no. A unique moment on a special night. A lassie who’s wrestled all over the globe fuckin gobsmacked at the magnitude of this moment in her home country. The champ followed and if I knew this was the end I’d have greeted it so differently. Don’t go. No yet. There’s still so many more folk who need yer vitriol on the mic. So many more burds and the occasional guy who need DDT’d in tae next week.

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She went out on the very top and that’s really sound anaw. Went out as a bad bastard who eviscerates folk on the mic because as nice as it was to be able to cheer her for a bit when she was a goodie, that’s what she was put in out wee wrestling universe to be. Vicious. A killer. Up there with the very best when it comes to saying words and sounding like she fuckin MEANS them. When she stoated out at There’s Something About Maryhill with a mic in hand back in 2013, few were prepared for her to captivate them the way that she did. As a relatively new fan I’d only ever seen her in one or two matches and wasn’t fully aware of how good she could be on the mic and what she done that night blew me away. She’d take to the mic one last time for her final moments as a pro wrestler, but not before she fell on her sword one last time.

Kay Lee and Carmel were unthinkably on the same page for much of the early stages. Both stomping fuck out of Vipers bad knee and looking pure ragin’ about it. It was never lasting though. As much as they take pride in being the originators of women’s wrestling in Scotland, they take even more pride in being able to batter fuck out each other in spectacular and engaging ways. Them joining forces started to backfire quickly, Viper managing to regain her vertical base enough to lose it voluntarily in the form of a cross body which leathered both opponents. Viper then hit Randy Orton’s Chauffeur (The Viper Driver…see whit I did there? Wis pure shite eh?) only for Kay Lee to break it up with a Swanton. She was not to be denied on this night. ICW have only had a Women’s Title for a year now but she’s been the Women’s Champ for far longer. Nae disrespect to anyone else at all, but no woman in the company has been as integral to its growth as her and no other woman in the company got chucked like a fuckin dart by Mikey Whiplash, only to go on and STILL beat the cunt, so she deserved the moment. She deserved the recognition. She was well overdue the shiny shiny gold.

A nice wee three person german suplex thing happened in the corner, before Carmel lulled Viper in by pretending her knee was sare again only to take the knee brace off and crack her with it. Devious till the bitter end eh Carmel. Why be any other way when yer so fuckin good at being that. Kay Lee stopped the pin and weirdly seemed in control the whole way. With both opponents selling knee injuries she just seemed in control, not something that happens a lot in triple threat matches but it always felt like it was going to be hers. Viper was valiant. Carmel gave it all she had in her last ever match, but it was never their night.

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It was my favourite finish of the night anaw. Nae ambiguity at all. Kay Lee was hitting mad Gory Bombs on Carmel in the ring, knowing each one was putting her that bit closer to the title but she was smashing Viper on the outside with all sorts of suicide dives, keeping Viper at bay, making sure it was hers. It needed to be, and after a third Gory Bomb it was all over.

Carmel took the mic and basically told us she was done. The words “I retire” never came out her mouth so that leaves some hope that one day we’ll see her back but her words seemed to mean, at least for now, she’s gone. She bigged Kay Lee up about as much as you legally can big up a dirty heel because it made sense. It worked. If she’s gone and has had this sworn enemy for the duration of her time with the company, its only right that the person she done her best ever work with is a vital part of her exit speech, and she’s not fucking wrong. As talented as so many of these wrestlers are, especially Viper, for me Kay Lee Ray is a talent unmatched in the UK and I cannae fuckin wait to see what she does with that belt. Send aw yer best burds. See if they’ve got what it takes to take the title off a woman who would just as quickly stab ye in the neck as she would Swanton ye to keep a hold of that shiny shiny belt.

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If it is truly the end for Carmel, its been a pleasure watching her do her thing for the past 4 years. One of my personal favourites and while she’s entitled to her opinion that she no longer belongs in the same ring as the likes of Viper and Kay Lee, I’m gonnae have to respectfully disagree.

Stevie Boy vs BT Gunn (Casket Match)

In the lead up to the show, this was my favourite match on paper, for the simple as fuck reason that its BT Gunn vs Stevie Boy in the fuckin Hydro mate. A matchup that never has any prospect of being anything short of excellent. Two of the best we have in front of  a beautifully massive crowd of 6200. For all the chat about imports, the first three matches was made up of exclusively Scottish performers. Infact see the negative patter about the “imports” , it smells like import snobbery. If it was The Young Bucks instead of The Dudleyz and Adam Cole instead of Angle naecunt would have batted an eyelid about it, but because its big names, the show’s relying on imports to sell it. A crock of pure jobby that patter is. Stevie Boy got the jump on BT by waiting on him halfway up the ramp as soon as his entrance music hit, but BT had the pre-emptive jump on Stevie by literally jumping on him. As the casket had been rolled out and was dwelling ominously behind Stevie, mad BT jumped right out it and all of a sudden we went fae 0 to cunts smashing each other in 0.2 seconds.

BT was close to falling in the casket as Stevie performed various moves with this eventuality being his end game I assume. In other words, yer man wis tryin’ lit a berr so he wis. BT would not yield and got back into the ring via a mad spear through (pictured below by the talented gent known as David J.Wilson) the ropes before a mutual scudding session was ended when BT straight up jabbed Stevie. This was nae sort of wrestling “strike” this was a man punching another man square on the fuckin jaw, and that man going down to one knee in anguish. Startled by said scudding. A Canadian Destroyer nearly ended BTs night but he managed to poke a foot out the casket. I actually heavy enjoyed all the wee casket spots. Maybe that type of shit isnae for everyone, but I liked BT dragging Stevie back in when they were both in the casket and Stevie tried to escape. I liked that when the lid was shut for a while, instead of thinking they were in there trying to kill each other the crowd started chanting “Shaaaaaaaaaaaaggin” cause imagine they wur mate. Biggest show of their lives and they’re shaggin in a coffin. Only in ICW eh.

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They weren’t shagging, but they climbed out from doing whatever demented shit they were doing in there to get in about some sublime wrestling stuff. All sorts of mad kicks gettin slung towards each others jaws. BT tried to lure Stevie in to the casket with a handful of scud books, a wee satchel fulla tenner eccies and some pieces n jam but to no avail. Disappointed by his inability to end the match there and then, BT decided to just scramble the cunt’s brains with a superkick instead. Ye cannae be filthy as fuck with the most bangin entrance music ever if you’ve no got a brain. Luckily for him he shares that music with the new ICW Womens Champion. A fine set of hauners to have indeed. Out came the champ to tip it in Stevie’s favour, but BT was wise to it and hit them with a double springboard cutter. He’s played this game before and won but it wasn’t to be at The Hydro. They had too much. Kay Lee cracked him over the nut with a chair and as BT hung perilously on the top rope, Stevie powerbombed him on top of the casket, and calmly rolled BT inside. Closing the lid for a career defining win. 

Thought they both fuckin nailed it, there were some daft bits centred around the casket but that’s exactly what casket matches are and have always been. It still doesn’t detract from what was an excellent bit of storytelling and a huge power move seeing Kay Lee winning the title in one match followed by Stevie beating one of the best performers in the UK in the following match. The Filthy Generation are proof that the NAK split was the right thing, as they are now primed and ready to become key figures in ICW for a long time to come. The other guy who left the NAK that night has done no bad for himself either eh. Carries about a right big shiny thing and knocks cunts out for fun. Point is, its a story and Stevie and Kay Lee have carved out a beautiful, almost tragic end to theirs. Tragic for Carmel and Viper, one losing a title and a career the other seeing a moment that could have been hers snatched from her. Tragic for BT Gunn as he saw his protege and former best pal shove him into a coffin and close the lid. The only folk who didn’t  see their story end in anguish was Stevie and KLR themselves. A pair of low down dirty hooligans who combine their disregard for all human life that isnt their own with a fuckin abundance of wrestling talent. The Natural Born Thrillers.

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Polo Promotions vs The Dudley Boyz (ICW Tag Team Title Match)

Polo Promotions are already masters of the tag team craft, the only issue standing between them and being widely recognised as one of the best tag teams in the world is matches like this. Matches where big names get put to the sword. Matches that your casual every day fan forum dweller knows all about. It was enjoyable to hear Bubba on the mic bigging up both the match and Polo Promotions but it was all undone by him ending it with “Lets make it an No DQ!” in a company where every match is no DQ. That’s like getting to 90 minutes in the World Cup Final at 0-0, grabbing a mic and going “We don’t want this to end on a draw do we?! LETS GO TO EXTRA TIME” That was always happening anyway Bubba ma man. Cheers for yer input anyway. No DQ it was!

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It was a decent brawl to start with, after the Polo’s jumped on Bubba and D-Von, I assume to stop Bubba getting back on the mic and digging himself an even bigger hole by talking about how happy he is to be in Glasgow, England or suhin else daft.  The Dudleyz were on top early and D-Von even looked not completely puffed out for a spell. Rolling back the years with a pouncing neckbreaker and a shscoopsoulder tackle where he actually got a few feet off the ground. Polo derailed their wee renaissance with a double clothesline and subsequently scooped the ever loving shite out of the pair of them. So many Dudley scoops. Even Spike Dudley sponteanously stood up and scooped himself through the coffee table in his house. Wife had him committed so she did. Thought he was having Vietnam style flashbacks.

Folk have had a lot to say about the finish to this and obviously the 3D that didn’t happen was supposed to go some kind of other way. It was either badly mistimed or someone missed their cue but who the fuck cares man? Genuinely. No one knows exactly what was planned and no one will ever know because its not our fucking place to know. Its our place to reflect on what actually happened and what actually happened is Jackie Polo hit a spine shattering scoop slam on D-Von, that scoop slam landed on top of a steel chair and that was enough to put the most decorated team in tag team history to the sword. Game, set and STILL champs. 

For some reason after the match Davey and The Wee Man decided to take a saunter down to a ring that contained zero allies. Essentially the ring was full of Bloods, and Davey in his wee blue crip pants was like a red rag to a team of bulls. The Dudleyz urged Jackie and Mark to “GET THE TABLES” and they duly obliged. I suppose if Foley couldnae make it there was a cheap pop quota that needed met so it was to be expected, and an assisted powerbomb from Team 3D put Davey through the table. A wee moment of glory for the legends, but the real glory goes to the best tag team in Europe. Yer scoop slammin, cigar smokin, snug workin, leaders of the revolution and STILL your ICW Tag Team Champions. The undisputed Da’s of European tag team wrestling. Polo Promotions.

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Lionheart vs Aaron Echo vs Zack Gibson vs Liam Thomson vs Andy Wild vs Kenny Williams (Stairway To Heaven Match For The Zero-G Title)

Lionheart has been unrivalled lately and fully deserved the position he found himself in going in to the show. The fuckin Zero-G king. Considering they were competing for a belt called Zero-G the match was absolutely fuckin brimming wae gravity. A lot of big lads in there and Liam Thomson isnae exactly a high flyer, he does do a mean missile dropkick but none of yer 470 dragonfly senton moonsaults n aw that. The match had a fresh injection of Zero-G’ness when Mick Foley appeared on the screen to reveal that the match would have a seventh competitor. A man who lost his qualifier in dubious circumstances, and a man who’s been down on his luck lately. A man who wasn’t even on the card for the biggest show in Universal wrestling history. The biggest show in the history of sport. He wasn’t even invited to the party, so he had one of his own. Up a ladder with a shiny belt in his grasp.

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The match unfolded at a frantic pace and was one of the more eye catching matches of the night. Iestyn Rees and Aaron Echo both cleared the top rope with a pair of stoatin’ dives, before Lionheart superplexed Kenny off the top rope to a waiting group of bodies on the outside. Thank fuck they were where they were supposed to be, because if naecunt caught them, there would be a Kenny shaped hope in the Hydro floor for the rest of time and a new finish to this match due to one of the folk involved in it being incapacitated with a bad case of clinical deidness. Zack Gibson was the first man eliminated, which saddened me as he’s a huge talent. My personal favourite of the English talents that are occasionally utilised by ICW. At the same time it was nice to see Liam Thomson pin someone in The Hydro and his Backcracker out of the corner is a thing of beauty, so it was nice to see both Liam Thomson and that move looking as dyno’ as possible.

His reign as the king of dyno hings was short lived however, as the bold Andy Wild eliminated him with that sexy situout powerbomb he always delivers with aplomb. Lets take a wee moment to appreciate Andy Wild eh. Came from nowhere to earn a spot on this show and not only that, but came from nowhere to deservedly re-take a spot on the regular ICW roster. Hats off to the big man, and how beautiful would it be if this wee story ended with him becoming a 2 time Zero-G Champion? He got in amongst it with Aaron Echo after that. The man who earned his spot in the match the night before with a win over Ravie Davieawild and he showed he was more than worth the spot with an excellent showing. Beauty of a spinning forearm sent Wild into a daze, but big Iestyn Rees is always about the spoil the party. He only very recently won me over, and doing things like pinning Aaron Echo is a fine way to find yersell jumping straight out of the good books so it is. Remember when yees both done a mad dive together? Remember the glory days? Iestyn Ree clearly does not and we were down to the final four.

Aaron Echo and Kenny Williams are big pals, so fucking with one may lead to the wrath of the other. Even though Lionheart seemed to have big Iestyn under control, Kenny wanted to be the one to pap him out and duly was as he broke up Lionheart’s Styles Clash attempt before pinning Rees with the Quiff Buster DDT. Andy Wild was still in there keeping the fairytale alive, but three became two after a superkick followed by a rock bottom from Hearto put Andy away. A sare yin, but there’s no doubt Andy Wild is back and looking even better than ever since his win over Noam Dar. This wasn’t a wee nostalgia booking, this is a talented guy firmly re-establishing himself and that’s just fuckin beautiful is it no? We were down to two though. Of course we were. It could only be them. It could only end this way. Lionheart standing toe to toe with the natural air to the Zero-G throne. The fuckin bollocks.

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Everyone involved in the match deserved to have a spot on The Hydro show so the match made sense and was loaded with entertaining moments. Aaron Echo’s performance had already drawn huge amounts of praise for a very talented guy, but this is the feud. This has always been the thing that needed some kind of resolution and you have to give big Hearto credit for for being that constant thorn in Kenny’s side. The architect of his demise was also the launching pad for probably his best moment in ICW. They slung mad jabs at each other before Kenny took the upper hand by booting a set of ladders in to Lionhearts face. Lionheart’s retort was making a bollocks shaped hole in a mad giant set of ladders. A Rock Bottom while they both battled up a set of ladders each followed that, well and truly bursting Kenny and leading to the debut of his new gimmick. #BURST Kenny Williams coming to a show near you, gibbering about how he’s gonnae delete his brerr and how dyno xylophones are. He didn’t stay burst for long, as Hearto climbed that big banana ladder for another notch on the winpost ,Kenny was having none of it. It’s been Lionheart’s year but this wasn’t his night. The people needed to pop for The Bollocks, and The Bollocks did indeed pop moments later. Kenny hit a mad springboard cutter on Lionheart as he climbed the ladder before managing to rush up and grab the gold. Your new Zero-G Champion. 

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Hugely entertaining scrap if a bit short. Would have liked to see a bit more of Gibson forearming fuck out of folk but hopefully there’s more ICW’ing in his future. Cannae believe how much big Iestyn Rees has won me over, wee bit wary saying it too much cause he’s proper massive and might see fit to leather me but he was one of the guys I just didn’t get. The whole comparison with Masters and never liking Masters fucked it for him but he has improved a huge amount since his early PWE days and has earned his spot on the roster. Hopefully 2017 is injury free and full of backcrackers for Liam Thomson and it was nice to see him revive an auld feud when him and Andy Wild leathered each other but arguably the biggest impression made from the other 5 guys was big Aaron Echo making absolutely every moment of his time in the match matter. That’s the thing that sets him apart from the rest of the “new” talent in this country. His work in the ring is constantly engaging and everything fuckin matters. Nae wasted motion. If he doesn’t add his name to the list of Zero-G champions by the end of 2017 there’s something no right. He might need to get behind the rapid resugrence of Andy Wild in the queue, as he chases a second reign that would have looked impossible a year ago, but it was Kennys night and after 3 years of show stealing performances and constant improvement no one could begrudge him that.  His biggest challenge might just be the guy who stole the show in the very next match.

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Lewis Girvan vs Ricochet

It was a night with a lot of big moments. Career defining. Long storylines ending, and new ones beginning. Monumental shit. Arguably the match that had the least on the line storyline wise proved to be the very best contest of the night and probably done more for Lewis Girvan’s career than any other performance done for anyone else on the night. In there with one of the darlings of Indie wrestling in one of the biggest, most widely viewed shows in Indie Wrestling history and Lewis Girvan fuckin nailed it. 180 (darts), 147 (thats the highest break in snooker btw, we’re doing a thing here, bear with me), the perfect hat-trick, first place in the formula one race, the gold medal, the gold standard Shelton Bejamin, to be the best you’ve got to beat the best and Lewis Girvan knocked off a fuckin massive talent that I perhaps didn’t fully appreciate until having the pleasure of seeing him wrestle two nights in a row and thinking “I don’t know what the fuck he just did there, but I know I liked it”

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Ricochet fired out a wee tweet a few days before the match about being excited for the show even if he was down the bottom of the poster. Tongue in cheek for sure but perhaps the reaction to it gave him a wee insight in to how passionate ICWs fanbase can be. Don’t get wide mate, yer lucky ye even got the shout to be on the show and so whit if ye were amazin? Yer nae Bob Holly pal. Wind it in. He kicked the contest off by kneeing Lewis Girvan to the outside before nailing him with a suicide dive and a made springbaord dive into the crowd. This was approximately 2.75 seconds in to the match and that tells you all you need to know about Ricochet’s rapid skills. Followed that up with a springboard 450 like it was fuck all. Girvan imposed himself on it with a lovely wee hurricanrana followed by his own version of mad high flying shit as he set Ricochetgirv2 up on the barrier before going up top and landing on him with an emphatic knee to the melt. Givan’s not about the 720 corkscrew flippedy dippedy stuff but his work is flawless and the mesh of styles was lovely to watch. Tap wrestling stuff right here.

Standing shooting star press reversed into a traingle choke by Girvan was beautiful to watch. The whole thing was just joyful mate. They smashed each other with elbows, forearms, lariats, knees to the baw, Girvan pulled out a BB Gun and fired a few rounds in to Richochets temple, Richochet responded with a 540 shotgun blast to the melt. Beautifully choreographed wrestling warfare. Richochet fired about 70 kicks at Girvan in about 3 seconds before nailing a deadlift back suplex type thing because he also happens to be a fuckin tank on top of all the mad flippy goodness.

His next attempt at flippy goodness was reversed into a codebreaker from Girvan and from that point on it was always his. A Blue Thunder Bomb followed by a pin was reversed into a Crossface from Girvan and after a long sequence of Ricochet trying to get out of that Crossface to no avail he had no choice but to tap. He did manage to gain enough separation to go for the 630 splash but it missed, and after a cracking spike DDT the crossface was locked back in. It was more of a vicegrip than a submission hold and its hard to wrestle at the speed of life if you’ve been choked to death by Lewis Girvan so he made the right call tapping when he did. He lives to fight another day. Hopefully some of those days will happen in ICW. Even if we all need to invest in hard hats so he can fly all over the joint whatever way he wants.

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Its been a pleasure to see Girvan find his “thing” in wrestling. He’s been around ICW for 4 years and was always a reliable go to guy for a good match on any card but recently he’s found that connection with the audience that was maybe missing at times. A terrific display on ICWs biggest night will only strengthen his spot and him vs Kenny Williams for the Zero-G will be majestic when it eventually happens. For all the “best young wrestler” patter was used to rip the piss out him at times, he stuck with it and its caught on. Excited to see what 2017 brings for a guy who started off 2016 by repeatedly smashing folk in bollocks as part of the square go, in 2017 he’ll be looking to smash a different kind of bollocks to finally get the Zero-G crown he’s coveted for so long.

Wolfgang vs Trent Seven (ICW Title Match)

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Wolfgang is The Undertaker of ICW. That’s not just because they both like driving a motorbike roon the ring. Its not because they both love shaggin deed bodies. Its not even because they both favour a goatee beard over other types of beard its because no matter the character he protrays or the story he’s telling, you can rely on him to be central to any ICW show he’s on. With or without that shiny belt, he’s an icon in this company. With or without catchy Duran Duran entrance music, he’s one of the best performers in the companies history and on a historic night it was only right that he went in as the companies champion. When the big occasion comes, Wolfgang delivers and he was the perfect, unassuming, dangerous baddie to counteract Trent Seven’s overwhelming popularity. Trent had an army made up of more nations than Seven behind him for this one, but folk might have forgot, Wolfgang fuckin runs Glesga. This is his yard, and that steel structure they were stepping in to is his domain. If Trent was going to take that belt from Wolfgang his night would have to be a flawless one. He’d need to stick to the gameplan and no matter what the big bad bastard flung at him, he’d need to get up and show him it wasn’t enough. Most importantly, he’d have to stay true to everything that brought him this opportunity in the first place. Spectacular beard, spectcular principles, and making smart, well timed moves to bring the opportunities he needed to move into position for the title shot. The worst thing he could possibly do is play Wolfgang at his own game, because its his fuckin game mate. He wins. Always.

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Trent entered to a wonderfully passionate reception and felt the full power of 6000 behind him, but Wolfgang entered on a motorbike and motorbikes are cool so first blood to Wolfy. Trent wasn’t for fucking about and met Wolfy before he even got in the cage, before they battled their way IN to a 20 foot tall deathtrap. Perhaps an indicator as to where they both are sanity wise, but this is for the World Title mate. Sanity disnae matter a buggery. They started the war by trading Germans. Wolfgang swapping his Bastian Schwiensteiger sticker for Trents Jurgen Klinsmann limited edition shiny. Or suplexes. Whatever makes more sense in a wrestling context. A popup powerbomb had Wolfy in control before he broke out the gold plated demon that managed to topple an army. The brass knuckles that have claimed so many bodies in Wolfgang’s reign added another name to the list but this entrant entered his own name by playing Wolfy at his own game. He managed to get the knuckles and knocked Wolfys two front teeth out with a cracker of a shot, catching them in his back pocket so he could use them to kid on he’s a walrus later before hitting a spinless piledriver for a two count. Aye. Knuckle shot then a piledriver only got a 2. For all the momentum Trent carried in to this, he carried that momentum in to the moment Wolfgang had dreamt about from way before Trent would have even heard of ICW. If he was taking the belt, he was taking Wolfgang’s deid body with it because that’s the only way the big man was letting his shoulder hit the mat for a count of three.

Wolfgang was still well and truly out the game and Trent decided it was time to make like a banana and get the fuck out the steel cage. That’s a saying int it? See the thing about Wolfgang needing to be clinically deid to surrender his belt is that he was in there with a certifiable nutjob. A guy who’s went to lengths we’ve maybe never seen before to get the job done during his unbelievable battles wolfwith Mikey Whiplash and if anyone might have what it takes to go to the deep dark place a wrestler needs to go to if he’s able to murder another wrestler for the sake of a shiny belt, Trent Seven had it in him. Kicking out of a superplex from the top of the cage AT A COUNT OF ONE is living breathing proof of that. Mad bastard. I thought they were telling a beautiful story and if I’m honest I wasn’t daft on how it ended. Maybe this isn’t the end of the story, but as Wolfgang tried to climb out and Trent Seven caught him at the top of the cage, you wondered if he was going to a silly thing. He stashed they brass knuckles in his skants, but that’s not where ye use them mate. Not in a cage match. Not at the top of the cage. C’mon Trent pal. Yer better than that. Don’t dae it. Fur tha love ov gawd don’t do it.

He couldn’t resist though, and with them both perched at the top of the cage, with two tables waiting below, Trent inexplicably rattled Wolfys jaw with the brass knuckles and he majestically fell to his certain death, from 20 feet in the air through two tables Trent set up when they brawled on the outside. Becoming your first ever deid ICW Champion. Turns out even death wouldn’t be enough to take that belt from the Big Bad Wolf. Another name taken by ICW’s very own deadman. 

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I sincerely hope there’s another battle in this between them because it feels like it shouldn’t end on a mistake. The result of the following match might make Trent’s prospects of a re-match a bit more promising but at the end of the day he fucked up and has to own that. A careful campaign to become ICW Champion doon the pan because Wolfgang lured a beautiful man in to a dirty, dirty game. Maybe it just wasn’t his time, but Trent Seven has made an incredible impression on ICW over the past 2 years and there’s no doubt he’ll have more fights like this.

Team ICW (Chris Renfrew, Grado, Sha Samuels and DCT) vs Team Black Label (Drew Galloway, Kid Fite, Jack Jester and Bram) – Winner gains full control of ICW

The match for all the marbles as Mark Dallas put it. The match that meant everything. A match that was already loaded with emotion before Drew Galloway decided to douse that emotion in a gallon of petrol and set the fucker on fire by fooling us all with his wee speech the night before. A man who was integral in aiding ICW’s growth when he returned to the company 2 and a half years ago (aye its been that fuckin long since that night, unreal eh) dropping character to announce that he’d miss its biggest ever show due to a serious career threatening injury. Standing side by side with Mark Dallas as he announced he’d have to take a step back from wrestling only to land an almighty shot to his old pal’s jaw and an even mightier shot to his heart. Going in to The Hydro, Team Black Label undoubtedly had the mental edge and with Galloway cleared, even the physical upper hand on Team Dallas. A “team” who’s hopes very much hinged on two sworn enemies putting that shite on the back burner for the greater good.

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The entrances indicated they might just be willing to do that. First DCT came out with Coach Trip (with his son, which was a lovely n nice thing to see) and Colonel Mustard and The Dijon 5, the band who do his wonderful entrance music. It was a ripping good time already before Sha came out to his new tune, a parody of Park Life called SHA LIFE which was better than life itself. Normal everyday shite life can fuck off, SHA LIFE is where its at. Renfrew and Grado presented a united front with Mark Dallas, coming out to the ICW music and bumping fists before charging down to the ring for an almighty scrap. Stuff yer sorrows in a sack guys, this is a night to come together, jump about to a bit of Sha Life, and smash some very bad men. For the greater good. For ICW.

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Sha Samuels and Kid Fite have been leathering each other for a few months now, without actually ever managing to do it in a wrestling match setting, so it all spilled over when they got in amongst each other at the start of this. Would have liked to have seen them both involved for a bit longer, but their personal battle is for another day.fito As everyone had split off and picked a guy from the other team to batter, that left Sha and Fito in the ring to have a bit of a barney. Sha hitting a nice spinebuster before Fito eliminated him with that mega sare looking DDT he does. Fito’s joy was shortlived however as DCT snuck behind him for a cheeky wee rollup to pap him out, leaving the former 55, pint swiggin, mug mauling brothers to continue breaking our hearts by fighting to the back. Need to get these cunts together, sit a keg in the middle and let them hash it out like real men by gettin stupidly steamin and declaring their love for each other.

Bram and DCT renewed their rivalry for a bit before Jester snuck in and hit that mad high arcing pedigree thing he does called The Plunge To The Dungeon. Drew finally got his infinite evilness involved in the in-ring action after he nearly took Grado’s heid aff with a big boot. Grado vs Drew seems like a lifetime ago but it was only a year earlier that they combined to rip the roof aff the SECC in an incredible main event. Grado went to the shake, rattle and roll but before he could sharpen that bionic elbow, Drew straight up nutted him. Fuckin sit doon Grado mate. Renfrew was on hand to provide hauners for Grado, a sentence that just didn’t feel possible at the start of the year when they were verbally and physically decimating each other but this was no ordinary night. Renfrew had Billy Connollys big banana feet on for fucks sake, this was a special night. A very Glesga night. Renfrew went for the T-Virus, a move that would nae doubt compromise Galloways burst neck if it hit the mark but it was blocked and he had to be content with delivering one of they big banana feet right to Galloway jugular with the missile dropkick he calls Kiss Kiss Molly’s Lips.

DCT was the next one out, as he intervened in the doing Bram was giving Renfrew in the corner only to see Bram smash him in the baws and put him away with a piledriver. Aw fuck. A team of Drew Galloway, Bram and Jack Jester would be a difficult one for any two man team to topple, but a pair of guys who fuckin hate each other? Nae chance. On an ordinary night it wouldn’t be a go-er, but this night was far from ordinary. Renfrew and Grado shook hands and just fuckin went for it. Why no. Fuck all to lose except maybe their jobs if they didn’t prevail. Nae pressure boaysies eh.

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Bram was the first hurdle overcome for the unlikely duo, Grado hitting the R-Gra-Do outta naeplace to send the horrible cunt packing. He left his mark before he fucked off of course. It was never going to be a simple task to get rid of that big hooligan. He knocked the life out of Grado and Renfrew with a chair and left them for dead. Only stopping after Red jumped in to tell him they were deid 5 minutes ago and further chairshots at this point are just gratuitous. Bram eventually did bolt, but the odds of ICW continuing as we know it were shortened dramatically when Renfrew was about to take a shot to the heid with that massive studded dildo Jester carries about, only for Grado to take a bullet for the team and shove him out the way, taking a belting shot to the dome which was enough to see him eliminated. If this was the same, huffy Grado from the night before ICW were fucked. Even though he’d been eliminated the team still needed him. If Bram could stick about after he’d been papped out, so could Grado. Nae rules. Stakes have never been higher. Don’t abandon ship. No yet.renfffff

Red celebrated like it was a done deal at that point and you could see his point. Two of the longest reigning ICW Champions ever and best pals, against a beaten and battered Renfrew. Renfrew managed to chuck Drew to the outside to even the numbers up briefly, and in came Grado to provide the timeliest of hauners. Nailing Jester with The Wee Boot, a wee boot that sent him directly into the path of a Stone Cold Stoner. Jester was out, and one of the most emotionally charged feuds in ICW history would decide its future. Renfrew vs Galloway. Renfrew had Dallas in his ear right after Jester’s elimination. Delivering some rousing words. John Lambie-esque. Bring it home or you won’t have a home to go to after this. There’s no doubt his feud with Galloway put Renfrew on another level career wise, but he’d have to be willing to maybe end Galloways career for that journey to continue. You best protect ya neck kid.

They faced off, exhanging jabs before Drew flattened Renfrew with a snap piledriver. Maybe the only way to stop Renfrew going for his neck would be going after his. Renfrew nailed Galloway with a top rope stoner, a beauty of a hit that would somehow only prove to be the second most impressive execution of that move in the match. It looked a certainty to end the match only for Red to drag referee Sean McLaughlin out, flooring him with a jab and taking him out of commission. This is where I really struggle with folk questioning if the Renfrew arm drop thing was a genuine mistake. The original referee was taken out so it WOULD be Thomas Kearins overseeing the rest of the contest. Red, Jester and Drew looked set to put the finishing touches on their masterpiece only for Dallas to burst in like scrappy do on eccies to take the whole lot of them out. Raining rapid rights down on Red. His momentum was derailed by Drew removing his head with that big Claymore Kick but that sequence of events proved to be The Black Labels undoing. Seemingly possessed with a lust to see Mark Dallas personally suffer, Drew continued to batter him, taking his eyes off Renfrew, the man he still needed to pin to win the match and keep Red in charge. Jester’s attempts to get him to focus up fell on deaf ears and words were exchanged between Jester and Drew. Drew seemingly referring to Jester as the weak link, causing Big Kink to get the fuck outta dodge. A moment of anger that would cost big Drew dearly.

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He nailed Renfrew with a tombstone that probably would have got it done but nae ref meant nae count. This is where I have an issue, cause questioning if it was a real mistake is just not paying attention to the story. Thomas Kearins was humiliated, fired, laughed at, made to apologise for things he didn’t do, and just generally torn down by The Black Label. He then found himself refereeing a match that decided their future after not being initially assigned to that match. When Renfrew’s hand dropped for a third time when Galloway had that Crossface in. He took a long hard look at Renfrew. Almost willing him to wake up, and wake up he did. The match continued because Thomas Kearins was in charge and decided that if Team Dallas were going to lose, he would lose his job as a result, so it wouldn’t happen on something as underwhelming as a hand dropping three times. Think of it this way anaw, how often do you actually see refs do the hand raising thing in ICW? not often. So why would it happen in that vital moment if it wasn’t for a reason?

Still locked in the Crossface after three drops, it was only a matter of time before Renfrew WOULD pass out. Dallas knew he had nae choice but to thrust himself in the road of a phenom if he was gonnae get his company back but even a golf club accross the back barely made a dent. He swatted it away, before nutting Dallas and getting him in position for The Futureshock DDT. If only there was someone else. One more man with ICW in his heart and scuddin boots on his feet. Finn Balor. It’s never been nicer to see ye pal.

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Out came Finn to save the day but his main nemesis in his ICW days Jack Jester soon followed, dwelling ominously behind him as Drew looked on smugly. Fully expecting his Kinky brerr to crack this Irish cunt err the napper and bring it home. Jester was fuckin done though. Done being the hype man in The Drew Galloway Show. He handed that big dildo built for a 12 foot fanny to Finn and he duly cracked Drew over the napper with it, sending him right in to the best 360 Stone Cold Stoner of all time for the one, two, three. Renfrew pinned Galloway. Team Dallas beat Team Black Label. Good had triumphed over evil. 

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It was high drama and that’s what wrestling is supposed to be about. Nights like this need dramatic, heart wrenching, at times soap opera moments. It wasn’t the perfect wrestling match but it fuckin mattered. Every single moment of it did and when Red Lightning was told he was FIRED it felt real. It didn’t feel like he’d no longer be playing the role of ICWs half owner, it felt like he’d been sacked from his actual day to day job and that’s how it should be. All the credit in the world has to go to that man to making this storyline consistently engaging. Continually holding the good guys down, show after show, letting that frustration towards him build to come to a head poeticall. All the boaysies partied afterwards including Toal, Scott Reid and Sweeney. Sha even took a break from an intense game of deidys with Kid Fite to partake. Grado and Renfrew were co-existing. ICW is a wonderfully merry place without Red Lightning but I hope he’ll be back to spread his expertly crafted misery at some point.

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Joe Coffey vs Kurt Angle 

This was the main event because it was the fuckin main event. Simple as that. When since was it the role of a wrestling fan to wonder if an “import” had demanded the main event spot. When since did we just ignore the most consistent performer in ICW and perhaps the UK getting a spot he undoubtedly earned in favour of speculating if there’s a reason for it that you can put a negative spin on. The reason Joe Coffey vs Kurt Angle was the final contest on ICWs biggest ever show was the fact that Joe Coffey is one of the best independent wrestlers on the planet and Kurt Angle is a fuckin megastar. A dream match up that diehards and casual fans alike can dig their teeth into, perhaps even more so than the title match or even a match that literally had ICWs future on the line. Wrestling disnae always need to be about stupid dirtsheet patter and letting speculative pish overshadow real significant things that actually happened so leave that shite at the door and enjoy this for what it was. A dream match that pitted one of the best wrestlers in the world against an American guy called Kurt Angle.

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Angle entered to a friendly enough reception with a wee chorus of “You Suck!” from the Iron Man daft regulars. Perhaps he didn’t fully realise what ICW was all about until he got his first almost hostile reception since making his debut on the “Indies” after leaving TNA. A much loved, well respected guy, but he wasn’t OUR guy. The guy who stoated out to The Hydro as a walking saltire. It was the second time I’ve been near greeting in The Hydro in the space of a month after seeing oor Noam make his RAW debut in the very same building a couple of weeks earlier. They might be in different places career wise right now, but they both have career  making moments in that building within a couple of weeks of each other and that was a beautiful thing. Angle got a lovely reception when he was announced, because naecunt really thinks he sucks. A lot of folk just liked the guy he was facing that wee bit more.

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After a very wrestling opening, with a whole manner of tie-ups, side headlock takedowns and all that carry on, Joe gained the upper hand with a beauty of a missile dropkick that caused Kurt to spill to the outside. Fuck taking another one of them. Ye don’t win Olympic Gold Medals by standing there and taking hunners of missile dropkicks. How much better would Olympic Wrestling be if it did have missile dropkicks though? And run ins? The Jamaican wrestling team run in to some trouble so Usain Bolt literally does a run in but its so fast that naecunt actually sees it. Kurt lured Joe to the outside and jabbed him a bit, before they went back in and Kurt went up top, only to be caught and belly to belly suplexed by Joe. Top rope belly to belly suplexes are another thing that could definitely improve Olympic Wrestling, but it was a move straight of Angle’s post Olympic playbook. Yer man fuckin loves a rope assisted suplex and his nose would have been knocked well out of joint by Joe getting one in there first. Add that to getting paint all over him within about a minute and Kurt was not a happy chappy. Time for a wee bit of ANGLE SMASH.

He needed to rake Joes eyes to get a bit of respite from the battering he was on the sharp end of but even then, Joe floored him moments later withangleslam a big shoulder tackle. For a guy who’s been there, seen it, done it all, bought all the t-shirts,and cut them into wee vests, he seemed to be struggling to come up with answers to what Joe was chucking at him. Joe smelled blood and went for the Lariat but the cat like reflexes of Angle kicked in to gear and suddenly he was stringing together German Suplexes. Three of them got him a two count as he finally looked to be making a bit of headway but his Angle Slam attempt was expertly dodged, and turned in to a German from Joe. The second attempt hit the mark but nae amount of Angle Slammin was getting the job done the night. The only kind of slam capable of putting Joe to the sword on his big night would have been a world famous Jackie Polo scoop slam on top of a chair. Nae Olympic Gold nonsense was even making a dent. Joe did carry a problematic left leg injury in to the match though, and well, Kurt Angle is maybe the best in the world at turning a sare leg into a broken one. The ankle lock was in and Joe was in serious bother.

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He somehow battled out of it and not only that, Aw The Best For The Bells hit the mark moments later. That’s what his Discus Lariat is actually called. No Black Coffey, the Costa Clothesline or any other daft coffee related pun, but Angle got the shoulder up and moments later he once again had Joe in real bother. Serious shit. Squeaky bum time. Joe was in agony but even if Kurt locked it in tighter and even if he snapped Joe’s ankle clean aff and smashed him over the heid with it, he’d still didn’t have enough to get the job done. This was Joe’s night and as he locked Angle in the No Mercy Boston Crab, he never looked like he had it in him to get out of it. Angle duly tapped and Joe had the moment he unquestionably deserved. A fitting end to ICWs biggest ever show.

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Angle tapped out to a Boston Crab so any question of him being an egotist that demands main events surely goes out the window there. He got on the mic and said some very nice things about Joe, signalling his intent to come back for a rematch before leaving Joe in the ring to enjoy his moment with his people. A moment he earned by consistently stealing show after show. With Red Lightning gone from the company, it might have been a moment that saw the last of the roadblocks standing between him and a proper reign as ICW World Heavyweight Champion removed. He definitely has a score to settle with Wolfgang and if he has to smash 29 other guys in Newcastle to earn another shot, he’ll no doubt climb that mountain as well.

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A hugely enjoyable night. Enjoyed it personally a wee bit too much, to the point that I immediately whiteyed in a hedge after the show. A hydro hedge fulla whitey. Everyone involved should be immensely proud. If we’re giving it a star rating I give it a million magic stars out of 1000 chocolate starfishes. Chocolatey good so it wis. Star ratings for wrestling is stupit. Look at all these people. I give getting that many people into a building for a Scottish Wrestling show 4 billion stars. 

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Many thanks to David J.Wilson again for the wonderful photos. A very talented man who is a huge part of these shows. Seems to always manage to capture the special moments as they happen. 

ICW Shugs House Party 3 Review

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Pro wrestling is about moments. Back in January at the Square Go, after a 2 year long violent journey, Chris Renfrew defeated Grado in the most emotionally charged ICW match in history to become ICW World Champion. His reign lasted just over a month, before he became the first victim of “The Troubles” (thats what Big Damo calls they rapid elbows btw) and finally getting that emotional moment he worked so hard for, it all fell apart at the seams for Chris Renfrew. Banned from the company he loves, no longer entitled to compete for the title he fought so hard to win, watched his NAK family disintegrate in front of his very eyes and as of right now no longer even employed by the company, his loyalty to Mark Dallas cost him his family, his title, his job and the place he calls home. While Renfrew stood up for what he believed in then watched it dismantle his world, someone very close to him made a different decision that night. It was almost like he foreseen Renfrew’s plight and decided he wanted absolutely nae part of it. That’s the man with the knowing smile and the sleek looking briefcase pictured next to Renfrew here. That man is Wolfgang.

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Say whatever the fuck you please about how this night ended. As paying customers you’re entitled to it and if you were annoyed by how it played out, by all means have a right good moan about it, but don’t try and tell me Wolfgang does not deserve to be where he is. If ICW was built from the ground up, yer man laid the foundations and helped lay the first bricks. Before ICW was selling out yer SECC’s and running places like The Hydro, Wolfgang was one of the major players in getting the company within pumpin distance of these extraordinary feats by helping establish a cult following for the company across Glasgow, and as if I don’t go on about it enough, but Wolfgang vs Prince Devitt changed the way I viewed pro wrestling as an adult. As a live experience and as a standalone wrestling match it blew me away and got me personally hooked on the very special scene we have here, so as Prince Devitt aka Finn Balor gets ready to main event WWE Summerslam this Sunday, how could it be an injustice that his opponent that night sits atop the ICW mountain? Isn’t that the least the big brute deserves after years of leaving them slack jawed with his deceptive agility and that he seems to seamlessly mesh with raw power? Ever think the reason you weren’t thrilled when his moment finally came is that he’s just that good at being a belligerent baddie that all of the good things he’s done before no longer mattered? Think about it. The guy famed for being able to perform physical feats guys his size shouldn’t be able to, became ICW champion by knocking an already knackered champion out with a pair of brass knuckles. If that’s not truly becoming a “villain” I don’t know what the fuck is.

ICW Shugs House Party 3 was as about as wrestling as it gets. Good guys done good things, bad guys done bad things. Bad guys became good guys and joined up with their good pals. Bad guys said good things about good guys. A bad guy and a bad burd fought a good guy and his good pal. A good guy avenged the untimely loss of tash and a wedding ruined at the hands of a very very bad guy. A guy helped a guy he vehemently hated 6 short months ago for the greater good of the good guys, and the bad guys walked away smiling despite their hardships earlier in the night, because bad times don’t last, but bad guys do 😉

The night started with Billy Kirkwood pump…I mean introducing the show with So Cal Val who was there doing backstage stuff for the Fite Network, before a vitriolic bit of promo work from The Wee Man ahead of the Tag Title Tournament final got us started wrestling show wise. A promo he ended with “wrestling is for kids” because if turning into a black vested supervillain wisnae enough, he wanted to become a sworn enemy of the virgin community anaw.

To be the champs you have to beat the champs…

The Local Fire vs Bird and Boar – Final Of The ICW Tag Title Tournament 

The become a champion you have to beat a champion. Unless its a new title, or the former champions are deid or in jail, that’s the rules. Mark Coffey and Jackie Polo are still alive and as far as im aware, whilst they “left” ICW, that really just means they were no longer looking for bookings from that company. They didn’t leave permanent positions, so if they decided to once again make themselves available for ICW duty, they immediately become the ICW Tag Team Champions once more, and yer wee dug and pony tourny means ride aw.

Having said that, Bird and Boar and The Local Fire have been the undoubted successes of the tournament that seen many more well known teams fall by the wayside. Bird and Boar becoming more established in the company having beaten The 55 and The Sumerian Death Squad to get there. The Local Fire going from a bit of an on again off again patchwork team to one of the most established and cohesive teams kickin about. They even do songs together now, and when they jump in for a wee Mcdonalds they know each other’s order off by heart; singing it in perfect harmony while the cunt at the till wonders what kind of alternative dimension they slipped in to. Anyway, Mark and Jackie unfortunately aren’t here and working off the assumption that they won’t be back, we’d just have to accept the winners of this as the tag champs eh.

Davey had a gammy foot and was limping about a bit throughout the match. Combining the limping with calling Wild Boar fat a few times, while Wild Boar responded with mad sentons. Loves a good senton so he does. Davey took a right horsing for a bit before hitting Boar with a move he calls Tramadol Nights and tagging in Joe Hendry for some rapid lariats and a ddt. With the momentum successfully shifted, Joe hit a fallaway slam on BOTH the bird and the boar, before the two teams stood toe to toe leathering each other with heavy forearms and jabs. Bird and Board bust out their double team move Mrs Pattersons Revenge, which is probably a reference to some mad Welsh carry on, but its a cracker of a double team effort involving knees and frog splashes. It would be a double team effort that would bring the contest to an end as well, as a double team fallaway slam crowned The Local Fire your NEW ICW Tag Team Champions.

Can there really be new champions if the old ones still exist? As purple and pink blood still runs through the veins of the ICW Tag Titles (in this metaphor, the titles are living things btw) Polo promotions still have a legit claim to the tag team throne, and when the their music hit and the troops emerged, it immediately rendered the whole tag title tournament irrelevant. Nah I jest, its an achievement and we officially have two sets of champions now, but The Local Fire’s reign will always be shrouded in doubt until they beat the guys. Not the good guys, not the bad guys, THE guys. The Real Deal and Nature’s Gift To Grapplin. Polo Promotions. As they stopped at the top of the ramp to survey the supposed new kings of the tag division, Polo sparked up a cigar. 50 quid doon for smoking indoors, not even the beginnings of a fuck given. It was an almighty statement, and even if they aren’t back for good and just fancied fucking with whoever happened to win the tournament, that wee 5 minutes of them coming out and staring Joe and Davey down was enough to tell you that these cunts NEED to be back in ICW. The level of fan support and talent they possess makes them essential. 

Lionheart (c) vs Kenny Williams (ICW Zero-G Title Match)

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Lionheart may or may not be a fanny. Its not for me to tell ye if he is or isnae, and I certainly wouldn’t go writing articles about it or that, but one thing he most certainly is, is a smart man. A man who knows that when your opponent is making his entrance and you are yet to enter, for that wee moment in time, he’s no got a fuckin clue where you are. Ye could hop in a taxi to your opponents gaff and ride his missus for all he knows, he’s too busy jumpin aboot high fiving folk to have any clue. Lionheart didn’t jump in a taxi to go n pump Kenny’s missus but. Instead of hitting it fae the back, he hit Kenny in the back, giving the champion the upper hand from the word go. Smart thinking for a fanny eh?

Kenny quickly got a foothold in the scrap though, as the pair briefly flirted with the ring before making their way into the crowd. A wee battle on the bar, led to Lionheart tumbling to the floor and Kenny loassin the plot. He climbed up on to the wee ledge above the bar and yer man only went and hit a moonsault from about 20 feet in the air. I appreciate Lionheart’s abilities and have enjoyed his run with the Zero-G belt immensely, but if one of the two guys in this match is a “bad motherfucker” its the one wae the hi-tops and skinnies, daein death defying moonsaults.

They got in amongst it in the ring with the wrestling moves and whatnot, leading to a beauty of a spot where Kenny tried a top rope Hurricanrana only for Hearto to catch it with a Styles Clash in mind, before Kenny regained his momentum and hit the ‘rana after all. Tap stuff fae a cuttla tap boays right err. It was a belter of a match as it always is between these two, and Hearto showed more character than a Brendan Rodgers post most interview when he got the shoulder up after the Quiff Buster, before Kennys world was turned upside down when he became a TWO TIME ZERO-G CHAMPION…..for about 5 seconds. In a rare error, referee Sean McLaughlin counted three, when Lionheart got his foot on the ropes at 2. Senior referee Thomas Kearins came out giving it aw that “haw haw, hey hey, whoah there, ell Leeeeonhearto had the old fit on the rope there buddy, restart this mother!” and restart it they did. A pair of superkicks, a rock bottom and a frog splash later, Lionheart had retained. 

LT Degree With Debbie Sharp

Liam Thomson is one of the best wrestlers in Scotland. One of they guys who never has a bad match so he is. Tidy in all aspects of the wrestling game, particularly any aspect involving the backstabber. The LT degree has been an entertaining romp for the past few months and has proven that he has the patter to match his skills in the ring, but I’d say its had its day now and it would be lovely if we could see oor Liam do a bit more of that wrestling thing he’s so very good at. This episode was so that he could tell Debbie Sharp he actually likes her, only for Debbie to reveal she actually wants to pump Sammi Jayne. Sammi politely rejected the applibaetion (thats lit…an application to become bae…….wordplay n that) and Liam got heavy raging before Christopher Saynt appeared with a group of drag artists. Liam and Saynt had a wee standoff, which led to Liam referring to the group as “trannies”, leading to a swift slap to the dial from the tallest one wae the crackin set ah pins, and a flying kick from Saynt. I love ye Liam mate, but transphobia isnae funny. Hopefully this will signal the end of Liam Thomson doing more talking than wrestling as it looks like Thomson vs Saynt in the near future.

DCT vs Bram

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ICW ring announcer Simon Cassidy is great at his job. So much so that every single person he introduces is done with the same level of vigour. Professionalism at its finest. With one exception, and that exception is whenever he gets the truly unique honour of introducing his best friend, a certain Mr D…..C……T. On this occasion, he got to introduce his best friend as he made his way into a steel cage match on a fucking PPV so Simon gied it fuckin laldy for him as the big man made his way to the revenge pit. The steel sided warzone where Bram would finally have his comeuppance. I know its wrestling, I know him and Viper aren’t really married, but in this wee world of ours everything is real and that big bastard fuckin piledrove your missus through the cake on the happiest day of your lives. Get him fuckin smashed, not in the name of “fuck TNA” or any other trivial pish, do it because that’s how DCT handles his business. An eye for an eye. An erse slap for an arse slap. A piledriver for a piledriver.

DCT was a man possessed in the early stages. And no the usual kind of possessing that happens to him when his eyes turn red and he starts shagging everything in a 20 mile radius.This was pure “I’m gonnae rip your heart out, shite on it, put it back in, rip it out again, wash the shite aff it, then eat it” vibes as he sent Bram over the barrier as the battle started before Bram could even make it to the cage. A procession of scoop slams followed, but a wise man once told me “no one gives a shit about the moves we do” so I’ll try and keep that kind of patter to a minimum to avoid boring the tits clean aff yees. Bram had a spell of, for the lack of a better term, knocking the living fuck out of DCT for a bit, but DCT would not yield. He’s the guy that got whipped to within an inch of his life wae a belt the first time he “wrestled” in ICW and he’s the guy who had to stand idly by and watch his poor missus get her arse skelped before being sent scalp first through a big cake. He’s been through worse than a few heidbutts and a pair of middle fingers from a beard wae a thug attached. Come ahead ya big diddyride.

All of a sudden after a dropkick and a wee stumble back, Bram found himself in the exact same position DCT did that fateful night a year ago. Arms tied up in the ropes. Forced to see the horror unfold. This horror wasn’t seeing his spouse get her heid split in two though, this horror was seeing his own heid get caved in as DCT rained rapid jabs down on Bram’s skull, but auld lumpy hud tae ruin it eh. With the ref down, big Flex came to Bram’s rescue but a decidedly less lumpy being had DCT’s back as the ol ball and chain came to her man’s aid. Viper climbed to the top of the cage and crossbodied the daylights out of both Bram and Flex, before Coach Trip dragged Flex out the ring and out the equation altogether, leaving DCT free and clear to climb out the cage and soak in the adulation of 1,200 screamin “OH” at the top of their lungs. First time he’ll have heard such a thing since he ran through 50 hen parties in the one night back in the day. DCT wasn’t interested in their adulation yet though. Not until justice had been served. Justice for the ruined wedding, justice for the tash, justice for just being an unpleasant big bastard in general. Justice for having Viper in his grasp once again, how fuckin dare ye mate? DCT put victory on the back burner to come to his wife’s aid, before scoop slamming Bram from the top of the cage and scudding Bram with the polo mallet and escaping once more, but nah. Not yet. An eye for an eye. A piledriver for a piledriver.

That moment where DCT replicated Bram’s arse slap/piledriver combo to enable him to pin the big brute and win the match felt like a career maker. DCT isn’t some kind of technical wizard in that ring, but he can fuckin fight and has more charisma than many who fit the stereotypical “wrestler” bill better than he does, and he deserved to pin a bit internationally known cunt on his PPV debut. He deserved that moment. He deserved to have a match that people will talk about for a long time to come, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more personally buzzin for someone to get that moment. DCT for life. Oh.

The Black Label vs Noam Dar, Grado and ???? (Team Dallas)

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Sha Samuels is the most natural villain in British pro wrestling. To the point that using him in any other fashion is just not using him right. It would be like buying expensive paint brushes and using them to batter emulsion on tae yer bedroom walls. Having said that, there’s always an exception. John Cena was a bad guy once anaw mind. A battle rapping bad guy to be precise. So in a world where the guy who slings a ridiculous amount of merch to kids can be a battle rapping, doctor of thuganomics, there’s certainly room for the East End Butcher to pal about with his two bestos. It wasn’t looking likely right enough, as Sha came out with the rest of The Black Label as per usual, but when Team Dallas emerged still a man short, and surveyed The Black Label from the entrance way, you could tell something was afoot. There was nae hint of worry amongst the troops, in fact they looked quite confident. Gallus even. And when Grado gied it “no pinky…no party” we all knew. Sha had dropped a wee bit behind the rest of The Black Label and pointed his pinky towards the sky, before starting to leather fuck out the label as Grado and Noam joined him. SHA SAMUELS IS THE THIRD GUY. HE’S ONE OF OUR OWN! HE’S ONE OF OUR OWWWWWWWWWWN. SHA SAMUELS. HE’S ONE OF OUR OWN!!

The Pinky Party rained down mad rights n lefts on The Black Label before Noam landed a beauty of a suicide dive on a selection of them. Grado went up top for a wee slice of senton action, before Sha rounded off the high flying madness with a flying elbow off the top. Imagine villain Sha daein a flying elbow and sending the crowd daft? Unthinkable, but the times are a’changin and that means keep an eye oot for any flying Sha’s in your area. Red Lightning got right up in Sha’s face after that, before Sha chucked him in the ring for a staredown with Dallas which was broken up when a wrestling match broke out amongst the carnage. A fuckin wrestling match mate, who’d have thunk it.

Sha predictably got isolated and battered for the first part of the match. Not predictable cause he gets battered a lot or that, purely because he’d literally just turned on the guys he was against and they might not have been very happy about that. He finally got back to his buddies and tagged Noam in for what has to be the hottest tag in the history of pro wrestling. I’m no exaggerating mate. Folk in the front row were liberally applying suncream on their domes such was the ferocity of the heat kickin aff this tag. Noam went mental for a while, slingin mad dropkicks, before tagging Grado in for a tag that was even hotter! I’m no kiddin guys. Somedy stuck an uncooked beef joint, yorkshire puddings, totties and veg next to this tag, and 5 seconds later they had a beef dinner sittin in front of them. That’s how hot it wis. His momentum was short lived as Drew and Wolfie hit Grado with a double team Razor’s Edge off the second rope, before it all went a wee bit mental and we had everyone battering everyone, including Sweeney getting ko’d by Wolfgang and Scott Reid heroically hammering Drew Galloway in the baws.

Drew recovered  from the baw bashing and managed to turn a wee boot attempt from Grado into a big fucker of a powerbomb, before locking in that crossface aided by Jesters big chainmail dildo/orifice maimer, only for the lights to go out and just like Shugs House Party 1, everything changed. That night the lights going off and coming back on saw Drew Galloway return, and cost Chris Renfrew the ICW Title. This time Renfrew was the guy costing folk important shit as he hit Galloway with a stoner before dragging his sworn enemy Grado on top of Drew for the 1,2,3. Team Dallas wins. 

Dallas took to the mic to give an emotional speech about how ICW is for everyone and you can be yourself, so I guess that means Sha Samuels is actually a really nice guy deep doon if this is him being himself eh? A nice guy with unlimited access to meat cleavers right enough, so don’t get wide just because he’s allowed to be pals with Grado and Noam now. The moment where Sha joined the boaysies was incredibly beautiful and one that’ll not be forgotten. Nice that he gets to team with Noam a few times before he leaves us aw behind and becomes the most famous jew since that polis Mel Gibson slung racial slurs at.

BT Gunn and Carmel Jacob vs Stevie Boy and Kay Lee Ray (The Filthy Generation)

Stevie and Kay Lee’s music man. I know they’re baddies and that’s fine, they wear it well, but that tune is just too good. Its enjoyable in a way that makes ye want tae tan a bottle of buckie and 4 eccies in a wanner and spend the rest of yer night heidbutting a face ye drew on yer own hand. BT Gunn revealed his mystery partner to be ICW Women’s Champion Carmel Jacob, meaning Carmel and Kay Lee would be renewing their long standing rivalry for the first time in a while in ICW. Exciting, gid wrestling stuff all round.

They all proceeded to set about each other, and in terms of chemistry in that ring, Stevie and BT are better at setting about each other than any other two people in the company. Carmel and Kay Lee probably coming a close second. In fact Kay Lee and BT have bags of it anaw, which makes you wonder if there’s anyone who doesn’t have in-ring chemistry with BT Gunn. He’s just that fuckin good, ye could fire a mop wae slinky’s for arms in there with him and he’d drag a cracker of a scrap out of it. Kay Lee and Carmel battled for a bit, Carmel coming close with a Fisherwuman’s Suplex, surely a wee feud for the Women’s Title on the cards there unless some big bastardin American company steals one or both of them. BT and Carmel then set both of their opponents up in the corner, before taking shots each to chop them admist a deafening backdrop of “BT…BT…BT FUCKIN GUNN” is anycunt more popular than BT Gunn in ICW right now? Probably not. Rightfully so cause the cunt gets rid of more talent when he takes his morning shite than most folk ever actually possess. He strung together about 40 different kinds of kick in the one go on Stevie, before Kay Lee hit the Gory Bomb on him to switch the momentum back in favour of the baddies.

Weirdly for a real life couple and a long standing tag team, Kay Lee and Stevie kept fuckin up and hitting each other, yet when it came to the vital moment they were more cohesive than ever. First and foremost, BT kicked out of the destroyer somehow cause he’s some kind of atomic choppin’ cyborg, but when Stevie went for it a second time, BT blocked it only for Kay Lee to crack him over the nut with a chair, and Stevie to finish the job by easing into a roll-up for the win. They then followed that up by trying to kill him with a chair before security intervened and stopped murder. Jackie Polo had already smoked a cigar ffs, ye cannae have murder on the same show as indoor smoking. The C in ICW disnae stand for “Crime…aw the crime” cmon noo. Wee bit of revenge for BT costing them a place in the tag tourny final, but they’ll fight again and it will be beautiful. 

Legion vs Moustache Girvan 

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Expected some manner of shenanigans here with people turning on other people, and those people gaun “haw? whit ye daein turnin on me? thats shite mate” but in truth, it was maybe the least shenanigan riddled match of the night. Instead of shenanigan riddled, it was simply a wonderfully entertaining, non stop, out and out scrap between 6 hugely talented individuals, rounded off with people being really nice to each other on the mic. Lovely.

Girvan and Whiplash teed off on each other with rapid forearm smashes, before Tyler Bate bamboozled Dante with some slick movement. How ridiculous is Tyler Bate btw? Cunt’s 19 and has the physique and talent level of a young Mr Perfect. Just makes ye feel…..whits the word……auld. Thats the word. Heavy fuckin auld. Like an auld creaky kneed Granda shouting at the weans next door for kicking their ball in yer back garden. We then got a beautiful glimpse of what a Tommy End vs Trent Seven match would look like, but the post match speeches would suggest that’s a match we won’t ever actually get to see and that’s nothing short of heartbreaking. Know who’s stupidly underrated? Big Dante. He can go like fuck and displayed some beautiful agility for a guy his size when he rounded off a series of dives by clearing the top rope with a dive of his own (he leaned on it a wee bit, but so fuck, he’s huge and jumped really high, that’s what’s important here) As sad as it is that Tommy End may no longer be gracing ICW, don’t fuckin sleep on big Dante. He could easily be a factor in the future.

Everyone hit everyone for a solid 2-3 minutes, and it was honestly too much to keep up with. I think at one point Trent sprouted an extra heid, and Tommy End had kicked it before it had even fully emerged. Rapid kicks from all over the globe. Was nice to see Lewis Girvan match, if not exceed the level of so many talented cunts. I dunno what it is, but since that match with Lionheart there’s been an extra assurance about everything he does. Hopefully that means he’ll be shedding the “future star” tag and folk will consider him in the upper echelons in the here and now. Fuck being the future. Be the present. Noam Dar got that future patter for years, well what is he now? Very much the here and now. Age disnae matter a fuck, being able to tell engaging stories in that ring does, and yer man Girvan has all the tools when it comes to that. He and Tommy End both locked in a half crab each on Whiplash and Trent respectively, before slapping fuck out each other when they realised they both had the same move in and quickly decided…THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!

As Trent had put Whiplash away with a piledriver off the middle rope in Birmingham the night before, he could be forgiven for thinking it would get the job done here as well, so he went ahead and done that very move only for Whiplash to KICK OUT EMPHATICALLY AT ONE. A one count. No even anywhere near a near fall. As far away from a fall as you can get. Proof if it was ever needed that Mikey Whiplash and Trent Seven will not stop until they kill each other, and probably everyone else on planet earth. He followed that up with a big heid remover masquerading as a clothesline and that did indeed get the job done, bringing what was maybe the best 1o minutes of pure entertainment of the night to a close. 

Whiplash got on the mic and laid it all out there for Trent. Insisting he no longer wants the main event at the Hydro because Trent deserves it more and urging everyone to make our voices heard and get Trent in that ICW Title Match. Hard to argue with anything he said really, up until the match immediately following this one, there had been no better match in ICW this year than Trent Seven vs Big Damo for the ICW Title, and his performances in general have been unspeakably good. If he isn’t in the title match, he should absolutely still be a prominent figure on the card. Even if that means risking seeing him hit a piledriver from the top tier of the Hydro, right through the middle of the ring. Tommy End then took over to bid a fond farewell to the promotion he’s spent 3 years performing for, and as nice as that was, and as much as we’ll miss the ridiculously talented big warrior, we know its not the end big man. We’ll be seeing you kick fuck out of aw sorts of cunts on that telly and hopefully one day in person again. 

Big Damo (c) vs Joe Coffey (ICW World Heavyweight Title Match)

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This is his time. His moment. Joe Coffey stood on the edge of the big one. The shiny prize he’s fought tooth and nail to get within shaggin distance of. Big Damo has been as dominant a champion as ICW have maybe ever had, but even 25 stone behemoths can’t stop destiny. It was finally going to be his, after 3 years of turning in outstanding performance after outstanding performance. 3 years of jumping through proverbial hoops. 3 years of battering down obstacles both real and storyline. Over a year after his last shot, Joe Coffey once again found himself in the main event of a big ICW show with the title on the line, and this time he would make no mistake.

What a fuckin stoater of a match. Its unlikely anything in ICW history will ever top Renfrew vs Grado for emotional investment, but there was something about this that left you feeling like both of them had drawn upon every single reserve they possibly could. Knowing victory meant not only being the ICW Champion, but victory would also mean earning the right to face Kurt Angle in front of 11,000 at the Hydro. Career defining shit right here. The fact that having great matches is just what Joe Coffey and Damo do together was almost rendered irrelevant because this was a different kettle of fish altogether. This wasn’t two guys who genuinely like each other having a scrap for the sake of it, for the duration of this match they wanted to maul each other and it showed as Coffey came right out the traps with a dropkick, before they laid into each other wildly with punches. If this was going to be Joe’s time, he was going to have to fuckin earn it, because its hard to get anything away from the grasp of a 25 stone giant, far less a prize that giant has fought his whole career to earn. Either turn up armed with a bazooka and a cigar hingin out yer gub, or there’s nae real point in turning up at all. You’ll be going home empty handed.

Damo weathered the early storm and firmly took control after hitting that big rib rattling senton against the barrier. Joe had silver paint on and alot of it ended up on Damo early on, so much of the early stages was basically The Iron Giant repeatedly standing on Joe Coffey’s neck. No whit yer wantin. Every attempt by Joe to get a foothold was slapped down by the champ, before he stood on Joes chest, only for Joe to reverse the senton attempt and hit the springboard crossbody to get a wee bit of momentum on the go. Big uppercuts and jabs sent Damo into the corner, before a few splashes got Joe’s tail up but Damo battered him down again before hitting the mark with a firemans carry drop into a beauty of a senton. Whit is it wae Irish wrestlers and sentons though? Every variant of the senton is used by every Irish wrestler at least 15 times a match, and naw that’s no an exaggeration. You’re an exaggeration and so’s yer maw.

Joe took a leaf out of Ireland’s book soon after with a rolling senton of his own followed by a picturesque splash from the top rope. Joe continued to build that momentum, a runaway train he wis, last stop, awthebelts. Damo derailed the train with a crossbody which must have been like getting hit by a train, before blocking a second attemot at the discus lariat with a straight up headbutt. Not a wrestling type headbutt, more like a fight to the death type of headbutt. Joe didnae die though, instead of dying he performed a feat of incredible strength, which is probably as close as ye can get to the opposite of dying, cause Joe Coffey’s no a normal man, he’s made of actual real bits of iron. A superplex from Joe was followed by a fuckin brutal looking forearm exchange. They were hitting each other guys. Nae two ways about it. Really hard. With hard  bits of their body. The hardest bit of Damo’s body is probably his elbows. Nothing scientific about that assessment other than the plethora of deid bodies he’s left behind in his title defences. Anyone unsure Damo would go to the flurry of elbows to the side of the dome he calls “The Troubles” in a match against such a close ally, needn’t have wondered. Down came the elbows. But Joe wasn’t still. Joe had something in him that no one else who’s taken those elbows had. It was like someone stepping through a wall of bullets and walking up to the give the middle finger to the shooter. He somehow made it to the ropes and became the first person to survive “The Troubles” .

The trouble with surviving the troubles is the fact that they’re fuckin troublesome. A 25 stone man elbowing yer cunt in for any length of time is going to leave its mark, even if it doesn’t knock you clean out the game. Damo hit the Ulster Plantation and some how Joe kicked out. Some how, some way he hoisted a shoulder aff that canvas, because it was his night…or at least, it should have been. Another attempt at the troubles was blocked, before Joe kicked Damo in the back of the head and hit a quite beautiful German Suplex, followed by a big bastardin lariat to the back of Damo’s heid, and finally finishing the brute off with a huge lariat to the front. JOE COFFEY IS THE ICW CHAMPION. THE TWO TIME WRESTLER OF THE YEAR AND PERENNIAL MAN OF THE MATCH HAS FUCKIN DONE IT. Damo stopped on his way up the ramp to beat his chest in honour of the man who’s responsible for the only two clean losses he’s suffered in ICW in the past year. It looks like farewell from Damo, as he deservedly looks to go overseas for the next portion of his career and what better way to go out is there than having the match of the year so far with one of your best mates, before passing the torch to him? Perfection so it was. Almost too perfect….

Wolfgang is a big part of the reason I fell back in love with wrestling and him winning the ICW Title is something that absolutely had to happen at some point in time.  This, in my opinion anyway, wasn’t the right point in time. The match those two had deserved to stand alone, so as much as I love big Wolfie, I’d rather have toasted his grand slam win and his first ICW title reign without feeling gutted for a guy who fully deserved that moment and fully deserved to soak in the adulation for it. Having said that, that was the whole fuckin point was it not. The goodies got to win earlier, and Dallas gained ground in the power struggle so of course it had to end with Red Lightning giving us all the middle finger and folk having anger fits. Wolfgang cashing in on a tired champion after his cronies took Damo out of the equation was the only way he could really cash in, because he’s a proper villain. Think about it, when did ye last see one of they perfect photies from David J.Wilson of Wolfgang in mid air? Ages ago, because baddies dont make people go “oooooh”. Proper baddies don’t dae Swantons to put their opponents away. Why bother when its no rules and you can fire some brass knuckles on and knock the cunt clean oot instead? Joe did fight. He kicked out the first time and managed to hit a lariat in anger, but as Red stopped the ref counting the three, Wolfgang had enough time to stick the brassers on and knock Joe the fuck out to become your NEW ICW Champion. 

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Really good show n that. Totally wrote this ages ago, I just eh……forgot to put it out. Honestly. Still tickets for the show at The Garage on Sunday. Go to that. 

 

Cheers as per to David J.Wilson for the photos.

ICW Fight Club Review – May 20th Show (Joe Coffey vs Jack Jester)

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The show kicked off with one man’s pain. He took a gamble and it backfired, so not only does Chris Renfrew no longer have the right to compete for the ICW World Heavyweight Title, he no longer has a job. He queried if it would even be worth his while if he was to lose the plot and start taking scissors to pregnant burds and executing ring announcers. Is any of it worthwhile if there’s no goal at the end of it? No belt to compete for? Surely thats what any wrestler aspires to be. The champ. Renfrew’s nae different. You have to imagine that shiny trinket of wrestling excellence is the thing that continues to drive Joe Coffey through all these hurdles put in front of him. In the year and a bit since he got his shot at Barramania 1 its seemed to be hurdle after hurdle. When he’s in the process of knocking down roadblocks, Red Lightning’s 100 feet down the road setting up more. Joe’s gamble was a bit more cut and dried than Renfrew’s though. He wins and he gets a title shot, he loses hes gone. Simple as that. There’s nae wee surprise firing here, if Jack Jester emerged victorious Joe Coffey was oot the door. It just couldn’t happen. He’s too vital. He represents hard graft and dedication to being the best you can possibly be actually mattering a fuck and if he goes its fucked. Nae Renfrew representing everything ICW is, was and wants to be. Nae Joe Coffey leading the rebellion. Nae fuckin point really is there? They’ve won. The bad guys run the show now and they’re just gonnae fight each other and have a laugh from now on. If you’ve got a problem with it you’ll get invited into the ring for a scrap and/or an 8 week initiation period to see if yer cut out for the pro wrestling malarkey. But if the show started with sorrow, it ended with jubilation. From one man’s pain came the triumph of an Iron Man.

The Local Fire vs The Rich Kids Of Instagram

Osiris told us all 3 of them would be wrestling in this match, and then gave it “Freebird rules baby!” Freebird rules means any 2 of a team of 3 can defend that team’s tag titles, disnae just mean 3 folk can wrestle 2. This incorrect statement, and the fact that they wear hats with light up bits on them gives me an itchy dislike for The Rich Kids Of Instagram. An itch that could only be scratched if a grizzly bear ate the cunts, or if Aaron Echo saw sense and battered fuck out the other two. Nah I jest. Good on them n that. But see if they’re rich and Red Lightning is their uncle, surely he must be rich as well? Rich enough to perhaps be able to purchase and second, and maybe even a third pair of denims. But listen, there was a wrestling match here and The Wealthy Weans of Whatsapp were up against a Joe Hendry and Davey Blaze with problems. A Local Fire that might be about to be extinguished. Mistrust in the ranks. A bucky bottle shaped dent in Joe Hendrys heid and heart. The prize? A place in the next round. The tag belts on the line. Or maybe some shiny new belts if Polo Promotions decide to punt theirs on Ebay.

Can it really be considered a 3 on 2 match if 2 members of the team of 3 spend the majority of the match gettin chucked about like wet washin? Big Echo looked impressive as ever but for the most part Davey and Joe ragdolled his “cousins”. Love the wee Sasha Banks-esque double stomp in the corner thing Echo does though. Much like his shites, its always money (trying to work the gimmick into a bit of patter there, cause they’re supposed to be rich so im impyling they shite £50 notes. Did it work aye? Good) but The Local Fire eventually overcame the numbers game, and some internal dissent when The Wee Man came out to wind Joe Hendry up to win the match with mad fallaway slams. The double fallaway slam on Echo, before Kyle Khaos and Austin Osiris took one each, and Davey finished Khaos off with a big bastardin spear. Game’s a bogey.

Ye know what they say though eh? the bogey’s are always greener on the other side or eh….something. Joe Hendry chased The Wee Man behind the curtain. Leaving Davey to deal with dark side of the bogey as they say (really need to cut this metaphor, its no working, nor is it even a metaphor) as he was subjected to a 3 on 1 beatdown from The Richies. The bold Ravie Davie saved the day, appearing to springboard double dropkick Osiris and Khaos before inviting big Echo to come ahead, and sharing a wee moment with Davey Boy before disappearing screaming “fuck the system!”. With tensions rising in The Local Fire, is there an alliance brewing between the two Daveys? Wid their tag team name be “Double D’s doon tae yer knees?” Who knows mate. Who fuckin knows what this mad wrestling patter will chuck at us. Just strap yourself in good n tight and enjoy the ride.

The LT Degree With Sammi Jayne

Since Liam Thomson is all about degrees and therefore all about education. Instead of analysing this weeks LT Degree, I’m going to outline exactly what we learned from it. And oh boy, that was indeed a vast amount of things. About to be presented to you in informative bullet points so you absorb each piece of information individually and profoundly. Drink it all in. Become LT. Absorb the D.

  • Liam Thomson has a MASSIVE cock. Here’s a recent photo of him taking it for a nice walk as proof of the fact.liam
  • Sammi Jayne was promised the Women’s Title if she was to align herself (mind, body and soul) with Liam Thomson and Debbie Sharp. A group they have dubbed “The LT Degreeeeeeeees”. The nature of this role is yet to be outlined properly, but basically it seems to involve and lot of holding stuff for Liam Thomson while advocating the fact that he has a massive dick. Massive. Honestly like a fuckin treetrunk wae two watermelons underneath.
  • Carmel arrives to inform us that Liam Thomson’s dick is in fact really wee. Like mind how ye used to/probably still get spaghetti and sausages? Know how the wee sausages? Like one of them, but half the girth. She also goes through every match he’s had this year, detailing how he lost them and telling him that’s why ICW aren’t booking him in matches. Because he always loses them. The first non penis related point of this weeks show, which was a refreshing change of pace.
  • Carmel then turned her attentions to Sammi Jayne, who hadn’t spoken yet despite being this weeks guest on the show because in case you haven’t gathered it by now, the LT Degree isn’t really a chat show, more the place people go to get therapy for genital fixations. Carmel challenged Sammi to a last woman standing match for the ICW Women’s Title, but before she gave her answer to that question…..
  • THREESOME DENIED. A fine attempt from Thomson, but that possibly massive but probably toaty willy will not be gettin double dipped. Instead Sammi his a beauty of a German Suplex on Debbie, before passing comment on her “massive fanny” and suhin about his boaby no touching the sides. Before she went on to accept Carmels challenge and they had a right good staredoon to round it all off. Nae idea when this match will actually take place but it’ll likely steal the show on whatever show its on let me tell ye that. Did ye let me? Well then I’ve tellt ye.

Kay Lee Ray vs BT Gunn

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It’s extremely difficult to dislike Kay Lee Ray and Stevie Boy even though they’ve turned into right vengeful bastards, cause of that fuckin entrance tune. I commend folk who are able to see past that and still give them shit for their collective sins, because as soon as I hear that tune all I want to do is cover mysell in UV paint, get good n sweaty and heidbutt some inanimate objects and/or human people. Point is, its a fuckin tune, and this was a fuckin match. That might no seem very descriptive but if you’ve seen it, you’ll know why it fits. Ye struggled to catch a breath watching it so fuck only knows how the people actually performing it managed to keep that relentless pace going. One of the most absorbing matches of the year so far, but what else was gonnae happen when two of the very best in the UK/World came face to face and completely disregarded traditional gender roles in the name of kicking fuck out each other.

Well “kicking” is underselling it a bit. It was more than just kicking. Any part of human anatomy that can conceivably be used to strike another human was in play here. At one point BT ripped his own shin off and cracked Kay Lee with it before a new shin immediately grew in its place because that’s BT Gunn. That’s how his talent sometimes manifests itself. Growing new shins and caving in chins. That’s what BT Gunn does. Stevie Boy took a suicide dive that bent guardrail before taking an accidental kick in the chest aff his burd, which looked unpleasant but also probably straightened oot his spine after the guardrail spot. That’s what a solid relationship is. Even during acts of accidental violence, your still looking out for yer other half. Kay Lee’s game as fuck, but sometimes gameness comes hand in hand with daftness and Kay Lee made the extremely ill advised decision to start a chop war with BT Gunn. That’s like….well…there actually isnae anything you could even compare that does it justice. Its just no a thing any sane human would think of doing. I’d hand BT Gunn a machine gun and start a gun fight before I’d volunteer to take any chops from him. But there they were. Chopping fuck out each other for their sins. Kay Lee was slingin’ two handers but BT’s were still causing the most damage to both Kay Lee’s chest and everycunt elses eardrums. BT was on top but Stevie got his neb in again and the tide had firmly turned when Kay Lee done a mad bunny hop off the top rope before landing and hitting the Canadian Destroyer. I dunno if the hop was for momentum or just pure showmanship (showomanship? ) but it looked sare as fuck. Somehow BT kicked out and found a second, third and probably a fourth wind to hit the Gory Bomb on Kay Lee. Her ain move no less! Still only 2. Maybe it would actually need settled with a gunfight, or at least some kind of samurai sword based duel.

The chop procession continued, but this time it was joined by all sorts of kicks, as they pretty much stood in the middle of the ring, right on that ICW logo, engaged in a bitter fight to the death. You would never believe they’re actually pals, this was like suhin outta Kill Bill at times, as a kick to the baws was met by a kick to the fanny, followed by the heinous act of BT throwing Stevie at his missus while she was hung up in the corner. If a match involves a man being flung at his burd that’s instantly 5 stars in my book. A superkick exchange led to Kay Lee being reduced to one knee. With a smirk on her face that said “Dae it……kill me” DOOOOSH! The knockout blow was delivered with a sickening superkick to the temple and that finally got the pin. BT Gunn keeps on fighting the good fight.

Really didn’t expect to enjoy BT this much as an out and out good guy but he pulls it off and doesn’t sacrifice any of the trademark brutality wrestling wise. Stunning bit of wrestling so it was. Proof that no matter what dwells between yer legs, if yer game for a fight, and the person opposite is also game, a fight will indeed take place. Stevie jumped in to attack BT only for Viper to provide hauners, she actually full on launched Kay Lee into the crowd before she even got to the ring anaw. Proper launched her so she did. I dunno if shes an NAK affiliate now, or just BT Gunn’s designated burd hauners, but they seem like good pals and that’s nice. Its nice that he has a new burd pal since his last one stopped being his pal and started being a person that kicks him in the baws a lot.

Mikey Whiplash vs Johnny Moss

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This was Whiplash’s last match in ICW for a while. Fans have questioned if his departure is down to a real life issue or part of a storyline, but I don’t get why it matters or why people need to know. No matter the reason for it, its bad news regardless. No matter the reason behind it, the end result is him not wrestling in an ICW ring for a while and that’s not an ideal situation. An ideal situation in any wrestling promotion would always involve Mikey Whiplash wrestling folk. This match spelled out exactly why that is, as it was a masterclass from both. Whiplash had the Polo Promotions squad jersey hanging out his trunks. A nod to departed comrades before he departed himself. If anyone had a problem with it, they could direct it at the spit Mikey Whiplash left on the ICW logo before he departed through a side exit. The match was a beautiful display of holds followed by an equally beautiful display of just about everything else. I’m ill equipped to properly put it into words. Mossy kneed the shite out of Whiplash before Whiplash cleaned him out with a clothesline which brought the hold for hold part of the match to an end, eventually leading to Mossy hitting a perfect German Suplex with a belter of a bridge for the win. 

Considering how reluctant Whiplash has been to shake hands with folk lately, even one’s he respects and dare I say ones he actually LIKES, but Mossy’s handshake was accepted because he’s fuckin Johnny Moss. He could shag yer wife and you’d still accept a handshake off him because fuck dealing with the consequences of not accepting it. The main one most likely being an inability to eat food due to no longer having teeth. After Mossy departed, the air of mutual respect left with him. All that was left was Mikey Whiplash’s unrelenting anger for the company he was once the champion of. The company he gave everything to, including a shiny big grogger right on the logo before he left. Maybe for a wee while before returning in dramatic fashion. Maybe for good. Who the fuck knows, but one thing we do undoubtedly know is that its bad news. Just like the Polos leaving, even Billy Kirkwood and Renfrew being fired, no matter if the reasons for these departures are “real” or “fake” who the fuck cares when the end result is talented people no longer performing on wrestling shows? Its a shite situation, but one talented person who wasn’t quite done with the company yet had the opportunity to provide a chink of light in amongst the shite. That man is an Iron Man. That man is Joe Coffey, and his task was beating Jack Jester by any means necessary to secure a title shot and keep his job. Easy eh? Well…..

Joe Coffey vs Jack Jester (Coffey wins he gets an ICW Title Shot, Coffey loses he’s gone from ICW)

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Joe Coffey beating Jack Jester in a one on one shenanigan free wrestling match is still a formidable task. Going up against a former ICW Champion and probably the only guy who’s ever threatened to shove a chain-mail dildo up his arse is never an easy task, doing it in a situation where the mug mangler Sha Samuels is the guest ring announcer? It gets just that wee bit harder. Add Kid Fite into the mix as “Dr Watson” the ringside doctor, a sinister picture starts to form. Chuck big Flex in as ringside enforcer, with a sprinkle of Lionheart as special guest ref and you’ve got yourself a fuckin stitch up. The man making sure the stitch up went to plan was the big boss man (no the actual one, he’s deid) Red Lightning as the timekeeper. Dae timekeepers exist these days unless someone with bad intentions needs an excuse to be a ringside? Its a dying trade anyway. But Joe didn’t just have Jester to contend with, he had a whole squad of cunts who don’t really think much of him to contend with anaw. Mere mortals wouldn’t have a hope in hell, even the Iron Man might struggle, the mighty wrestler would struggle to wrestle his way through this minefield, but Joe Coffey with a chip on his shoulder and vengeance in mind? The old spraypainted No mercy vest that he wore back in the day when he was all about screaming at Grado and making Red Lightning pay for his sins? Get out that cunts road before he knocks yer heid aff and punts it into the stratosphere in defiance.

Before Joe was introduced, Red asked for anyone who wanted to hauner Joe to step forward now or forever hold their hauners, AND IT WAS THEM. POLO PROMOTIONS MUSIC PLAYED AND THE PRODIGAL SONS HAD FINALLY CAME HOME. Or so we thought, it was a ruse. Everycunt fell about laughing as there was no Polo Promotions to save the day. There are no heroes in this tale. Only villains having a right gid laugh at their work. Sha eventually saw fit to introduce a man he almost fondly referred to as “The Iron Mug”. Joe Coffey. In amongst the shenanigans, it has to be said that Joe and Jester had a pretty decent match. If its done right and the various shenanigans involved are timed well, a match ridden with interference can actually feel cohesive and good and the atmosphere in the place definitely helped it. Joe got a right feel good factor into the place when he tossed Jester over the barrier before launching himself right over it. He then found a bin, smacked Jester with it before proudly declaring “I FOUND A TENNER!” to scenes of wild jubilation. Maybe this would be Joes night after all. Any night where you find a stray tenner in Glesga and its not attached to some sort of dug shite based prank, its a good fuckin night. A night where the gods are smiling on you. It certainly seemed that way when Joe got the Boston Crab locked in good n tight right in the middle of that ring, but nah. Not that easy Joe san. Red told the troops to surround him and a beatdown was delivered. Lionheart even getting some sly kicks in while pretending to try and bring some order into the situation, but Joe was not for yielding. A big dive over the top rope on to EVERYCUNT, immobilising the troops briefly before Jester took over.

The tables had turned. Joe fought for his ICW life as Jester mangled him with chairshot after chairshot. Every conceivable type of chairshot was used including shooting the chair out of a cannon, and launching it from the top of The Wallace Monument right on to Joes heid. But he kept on fighting and was offered a glimmer of hope when Joe Hendry and Davey Boy turned up to huckle The 55 out the building. The numbers still weren’t in the Iron Mans favour but you got the feeling things were going his way. Even when Lionheart refused to count the pin after he hit the tombstone Kenny Williams was on hand to lay Hearto spark out with a superkick. Unfortunately for Kenny, big Flex was on hand to chokeslam him clean oot his bollocks, before Joe hit the Discus on Jester.

Only problem there was…nae ref to count the pin. Lionheart was stoatin’ aboot lookin steamin, and even if he was fine he’d have slow counted it tae fuck anyway. In came exiled former senior referee Thomas Kearins, illegally entering himself in to proceedings from the crowd and getting to a count of two before Lionheart suddenly found a second win and knocked him out with a superkick of his own. Joe had apparently grown tired of the biased nature of the officiating and decided enough was enough. Down went Hearto thanks to the discus but one person that had flew under the radar pretty much the whole time was Jester. Plotting whit orifice he was gonnae probe next with that shiny fake boaby while Flex delivered a chokeslam for a two count performed by Sean McLaughlin, who had emerged to become the third and final man to take charge of this chaos. With Sean in there you guaranteed impartiality and handsomeness so we were on to a winner the minute he appeared. A fair fight. Who’d have thought it possible at the start eh. The numbers game was finally evened up as Big Damo the man who Joe Coffey would likely face for the title if he was to win provided unlikely hauners. Clearly thirsting for the challenge Joe would bring. They always have cracking matches and Joe was (to my knowledge) the last person to gain a clean win over Damo in ICW so its only right that he gets his shot. And get it he did.

The finale was unrelenting. They stood toe to toe leathering each other, before a few attempts at the Discus were blocked, only for Joe to finally find the sweet spot and connect with a beauty of a lariat. LIGHTS OOT FOR BIG KINK. JOE COFFEY HAS CONQUERED. Damo made sure Red Lightning rung the bell and Joe finally had a well earned second shot at the gold. Against at times impossible looking odds, he prevailed in the most dramatic way possible. His win was more than just a guy winning a wrestling match though, it was Joe Coffey overcoming the odds to take a spot that he’s well and truly earned. I know it, you know, Damo knows, and now The Black Label and all their affiliates know it anaw. Mark in yer diaries for…eh…sometimes in the not too distant future. Joe’s getting his shot!

 

 

ICW Barramania Review

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Every great mutiny needs a rebel. Continue reading

ICW Square Go Review 2015 (Hauners From David J Wilson)

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Continue reading

An Interview With Mikey Whiplash

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I won’t lie, this is the one interview in the world I never expected to get. Back when I didn’t take this quite as seriously as I do now, I don’t think Mikey Whiplash was a great fan of my writing. Which is sound. I think I won him over a bit, and I’d be utter shite at this if I didn’t at least try to get him to answer a few questions for us. He done so in a most entertaining manner. Continue reading