Coatbridge bore witness to the dawn of a new era on Saturday night, and it didnae even know it. Whilst locals tuned intae Ant and Decs Saturday Shite Takeaway, or whatever other pish was on, some may have even been shuffling intae one of the local pubs for a spot of karaoke, but if ye weren’t in that wee chapel that I cannae mind the name of, yer Saturday might as well not have happened. Ye might as well had a game of chappy, except the only door ye chap if yer own cause yer too much of a fearty tae play the game right. Aye thats right, in this metaphor I’m trying to claim you played the game wrong by no coming to the wrestling. Did ye catch that? It wisnae really an option for you to attend though, as it sold out weeks in advance. I queued up months before it wis even announced to get my ticket, cause I just had the sense something huge was the horizon. Slept in a tent wae a big stain fae some cunt pishin on it at T in the Park anaw. Brutal. Well worth it though. Pish patter aside, it was hugely encouraging to see the amount of raw talent coming through the ranks at PBW. Plenty of debuts were had, with a few still in their first few matches tae, but no one could be disappointed with their efforts. There wis matches and aw that tae, so I might aswell say some words about them eh? Bored ye wae this patter long enough.
Show Me Your Lizard was quite a beautiful saga when ye think about it. A show that sold out over a month in advance without a match announced leaves the company with a bit of a unique perspective, because really, they’re under no obligation to announce anything. So instead of announcing matches to cultivate ticket sales, say nothing. Make it a big surprise. Leave the possibility of the whole thing being a front for an adult orientated Singing Kettle show well and truly open. ICW weren’t quite that bold, but with only 4 matches announced, there wis plenty of scope tae make it a night packed with twists, turns, stauners, heart attacks…mare stauners….probably tears, blood? Aye I reckon there’s gonnae be some blood somewhere, and most importantly of course…hunners ah fuckin wrestling!
We had out obligatory opening gambits from the bold Billy Kirkwood, and his co-presenter of ICW Worldwide Veronica LeStrange, and naebdy gets a party started like Billy. That man has called me a sexy motherfucker on countless occasions now, and it still gets me soakin every time. Nothing can really compare tae the level of satisfaction ye get from knowing that a hairy, tatooed man fae Ayrshire finds ye sexy. So with nipples suitably pointed, and baws with a warm welcoming glow aboot them, we were introduced tae his co-commentator for the evening. The recently retired Jackie Polo. Still favouring the neck injury he picked up fae cunnilingual activities wae yer maw and/or sister, he stood by his retirement announcement and spoke of his future prospects as a top class talent agent, and full time advocate for the wearing of suit jaickets without the accompanying suit troosers..anyway. WRESTLIN!