Wrestling is lovely. Continue reading
Wrestling is lovely. Continue reading
Pride will welcome the first band of post independence war criminals to its venue in Bridgeton on Saturday, as the infidels filter in to hide from the protectors of the realm and probably watch some wrestling tae I suppose. That’s what we are now eh? War criminals. The marginalised minority, but what’s that got to do with wrestling I hear you ask? Well….fuck all really. I thought it would act as a catchy topical hook, before we explain how brilliant PRIDE will be on Saturday, and how you should all go there and enjoy it with yer eyes, ears and any other senses you fancy engaging with. Did it work? Did it draw ye in? The nation was divided by all that referendum patter, but do you know what unites us all? Wrestling. Well…it unites all the wrestling fans anyway, and pop culture references always make for top class wrestling show names, so of course, calling it “We Love It When A Plan Comes Together” was a smart move. Now the conspiracists are asking “was the plan a ‘no’ vote all along?” but they need tae shut the fuck up and think about….
The things we endure for wrestling eh. Like Edinburgh….aw the fuckin time. Nah I’m joking, I’ve grown to like Edinburgh in a bit of a sadistic way. Its nice tae look at. There’s invariably decent looking burds stoating about most of the time. Ye still get bumped into sometimes, but once you’ve experienced London, Edinburgh resembles a monastery. Serenity now. Week two of a run where ICW run shows for six weeks in a row. Seven weeks out of eight if you include London which is…a fuckin lot. A lot of any Indie Wrestling company, and a true test of ICWs aspirations to one day become a full time gig, and thankfully every show is either sold out, and close tae selling out. The interest in the product is sky high, so the only thing left to do is deliver good wrestling shows. Thats the easy part eh? We’d soon find out.
As per usual wae the aftermath of a big house party, there’s a lot tae contend with. First and foremost, everycunt’s hungover. Even those who did not partake in any alcohol or swedge consumption are suffering. I spent all of Monday lying motionless in a sweaty heap, while my pal whiteyed in my toilet, cause Sunday just…I dunno. It done that tae ye. It took every single ounce of energy you could muster, then booted you hard in the chest, rendering ye a pile of useless flesh…in the best way possible. DNA and a bone structure, thats all you are now. Maybe thats all ye ever were. The point is, Shugs House Party wasn’t the best wrestling show ICW have put on this year, but it was…momentous. A special night for the company and for everyone who gives a fuck about it, and its taken me a gid 24 hours just tae let it all sink before trying to put words on it that make any degree of sense. Continue reading
Studio 24 might be my favourite venue ICW run regularly. That’s no bias towards this particular show either, cause some nice things happened in it (we’ll get tae that eventually, calm yit) that were mare joyful on a personal level, I just mean in terms of atmosphere and crowd interaction, its always a fuckin braw time. The only downside for Glesga punters, is that its in fuckin Edinburgh, and while I quite like Edinburgh these days, its ratio between shops that sell tartan memorabilia and chippies is not fuckin favourable. We must have stoated by at least 10 of these stupit shops fulla tartan hats, and mugs that say “Bonnie Scotland – Home of Bravehearts, not just hunners ah junkies askin if ye’ve got a spare 20p for an imaginary bus” before we could locate somewhere that can sell ye a fish supper. But see if ye go tae Edinburgh for professional wrestling shows and miserable Hibs fans? Sunday May 25th 2014 wis the Da.
So Edinburgh got pumped again. In perhaps the most chaotic way yet. Admittedly I missed the first show ICW ran in Edinburgh, but unless there wis a tank and an incredibly hungry Lion involved somewhere, there’s nae chance it matched the carnage that came wae ICWs first ever Edinburgh Street Fight. Glesga’s been tore enough new arses, it wis time tae show the capital how orchestrated violence can look so convincing sometimes, it leads tae the polis being phoned. I reckon the polis showing up is a sign that yer doing it right more than anything else, so I’m sure everyone involved wurnae bothering their arses when it occurred. Before that utter mayhem got under way, we had a stoater of an undercard tae get through, so I’ll try n walk ye through it eh. I know the Square Go review wis a wee bit sketchy on the details, but I have various personal excuses fur that naecunt will really gie a fuck aboot, so we’ll move past it eh. Water under the bridge.
I got in 5 minutes late, so unfortunately I missed most of the bold Billy Kirkwoods patter, but I didnae miss him introducing his broadcast colleague for the evening and I didnae miss how much of a hilarious cunt he is. It wis yer DCT, retired ref and 2 time Square Go entrant (totalling about 3 seconds of action) and he wis now apparently a PIMP, as he came strollin oot shirtless, wae Leah Owens in tow, and the maist baw huggin tights on ye’ll ever see. Tae cut a ong story short, if ye ever need DCT, just dial 69-69-0-0-0. Also, if ye were in the crowd, you’re carrying DCTs wean noo, and it already has a tash.