- originally written Sept 25th, 2010-
My first show in April was a very, very trying experience! My old nemesis The Evil SatNav struck again! I was driving up to a Wrestling.IE show in Newtownards, but the bloody thing took me all over the place! I should’ve just followed the map from the AA. I was on my own, it was LASHING rain, and I had to make several diversions, but the main “highlight” of the trip was when my evil navigation companion took me to the small town of Strangford, and uttered the following: “In 200 yards, turn right and board ferry.” BOARD FERRY??!!!” Yes, that’s right. If I’d followed the AA map, I could’ve ultimately gone around the lake/body of water I now had to cross, but I relied on this malevolent contraption, and would’ve had to go back the way I came (extending my driving time by an hour) so I ended up having to get the ferry across from Strangford to Portaferry. I was already a little behind schedule as it was, but I had to drop by my B&B for the evening, and get my key, and finding that of itself proved difficult!
The trip from Dublin to Newtownards should’ve only taken two and a half hours. Heh heh… Yeah… I left my house at 1:20pm, and got to the venue there at 6:10! Needless to say, that was the worst journey I’ve ever had in five years! AND I still had a match to wrestle! Heh heh—“Good Friday”, indeed!
The show, itself, threw up its own set of problems. For one, a mix-up with the venue staff meant that the show had to run to 90 mins at an ABSOLUTE maximum, including intermission, and pre bell-time. Thus the card was severely re-jigged, and a few of us got chucked into a six-man tag, which was a fun one, albeit a tad short. I teamed with Jordan Devlin and Tron to face Maxer, Joe Cabray and Corvin. It was enjoyable. There was one other problem (apart from the return of that obnoxiously arrogant fella from last month) and that was the dressing room was visible from the public toilets; if you were going to the toilet, a quick glance to the left into the changing area would completely give up the game, as it were. Thus, the two guys who were just pounding the shite out of each other could be seen laughing and joking about… well, whatever guys talk about… beer, I suppose. Beer, gambling, avoiding housework, pornography and so forth. You know men…! Anyway, the potential kayfabe-breakage was an unfortunate oversight that might’ve been avoided. Most people know the craic with wrestling; it’s just a bit of a shame when it’s so obvious! Regardless, in spite of these things, it turned out to be a decent enough show.
The afters proved quite interesting, too. Steve, the promoter, asked me if I minded bringing Maxer and Joe [Cabray] to their B&B nearby, which was no problem. We had a nice Chinese nearby, then I tried in vain to find their accommodation for the evening. The house was on a very quiet country road, with no lighting whatsoever, and it was after midnight at this stage. I must’ve driven up and down the road about three or four times looking for the address, but there was nowhere that appeared to be a B&B; all the while we were cursing Steve for picking such a remote B&B! Heh heh. I don’t know how in the name of sanity he found it! (Speaking to the proprietors the following morning, it transpired that they’d only begun operating two weeks previous.) I stopped the car for a three-point turn, and noticed a house at the end of a very long driveway; it was darkened, but it seemed quite large, and had the appearance of being a B&B, or some sort of paid accommodation. I headed down the drive, and it took about three or four minutes to reach the house at the end of the drive. It was pitch black, apart from a lamp on in the front room. My headlights attracted the attention of the people in the house, and they looked fairly worried, to put it mildly! It was a couple, in their thirties; the woman seemed very frightened, while the guy had the appearance of being ready to take action. (Maxer said that when I got out of the car to approach the front door, he could see the guy reaching for something!) I made myself as non-threatening as I could, and politely asked if they were a B&B, or if they knew if there was one nearby. He hurriedly answered that he didn’t know; he wanted us out of there as soon as possible! It wasn’t said, but it was definitely “between the lines”, as it were. I apologised for having disturbed them, and drove off fairly swiftly. The days of “The Troubles” are fairly far behind us, but I suppose the sight of a “Dublin” car registration in a very Protestant area- after midnight on a property that’s very remote and gets very little traffic- is still likely to inspire terror! We managed to dig out the phone number for the B&B eventually, and they managed to guide us towards them. I dropped off Maxer and Joe, and headed back to my own B&B, about 15 mins away. It was a very nice one, incidentally—Drumcree House, run by the very hospitable Ben & Lily Forde. Damn good breakfast (if I can channel my inner Agent Dale Cooper!)
The following day, we were off to Newry for another Wrestling.IE show. Newry is on the way back to Dublin, so that was quite handy. I made the trip with Joe, Maxer and Northern Irish worker Vice, and worked with Joe on the show; our first match together and- I believe- our best. Everything went as planned, and the crowd of about 200 or so were really into the match, which really added nicely to proceedings. Joe likes his suplexes, and I love being thrown around the place (heh heh) so it was a nice fit; I was happy with it. Another highlight of the show was of the backstage variety- at the meet ‘n’ greet, I caught up with a guy called John, who had been a key fixture at a load of IWW shows between 2007 and 2008. John’s a very sound, very genuine guy, and it was cool getting to catch up with him, as I hadn’t seen him for about two years or so… On the “potential heart attack” side of things- heh heh- it’s probably worth noting that Newry Town Hall (where we were doing the show) is up a few flights of stairs, and a winch was needed to lift up all the bars/boards/corner posts, etc. to where they were needed. Why the potential heart attack? Well, mainly because I had earlier parked my car in the cordoned-off parking area just below and- had the ratchet come loose- then my baby would’ve been impaled with all the ring-support beams! (Cue me on my knees in the pouring rain outside, yelling “WHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYY?????!!!!!”) Thankfully, though, that didn’t come to pass, and I made the trip home without incident.
There was another show later in the month, but before I get to that, there was one other thing in April that irked me a little. A mate of mine had run into a former IWW trainee who had spent some time bitching and moaning about me to him. This was a guy who I had given a lot of time to; I had given him private classes over a long period of time (on weeknights, when I had work the next morning), recommended him to Simon (the IWW promoter), given him plenty of advice to help him advance and- in general- just hadn’t been a prick to him. There seems to be this tradition in wrestling that in order to train someone, you have to rib them, stiff them, and stretch them. Like a lot of other “traditions” in wrestling, it’s bollocks. You don’t get this kind of crap in other disciplines like martial arts, and I don’t believe in it. Wrestling is a cooperative practice—you’re giving someone your body in the trust and understanding that you’re working together for a common goal, and that the other person isn’t going to abuse that trust. Along with that, being a trainer is a position of trust—if I were to shoot on a trainee, who was giving me their body anyway, I’d be a bully. It’s not who I am, and it’s not my policy. If someone stepped out of line in one of my classes- which was exceptionally rare- they’d generally just end up taking a shitload of bumps—at least, they’d be learning as they were punished! My point, anyway, is that I treated my trainees fairly, and wasn’t in the habit of being a prick. In spite of this, stuff like this just goes to show the mentality of some people; rather than take responsibility for their own lack of success, or shortcomings, they blame other people. I have no doubt that this guy probably isn’t the first to assign blame on yours truly; it’s irritating, sure, but at the end of the day, it’s not something I’m gonna lose any sleep over. I know that me sticking this in my blog probably gives the opposite impression, but it’s just something I wanted to share with you guys. I personally feel I did right by the folks I helped, and that’s all I’m concerned with. That’s what helps me sleep at night, in my sleeping mask and Aquaman PJs… (Heh heh..Is he joking?) For every Keith, Seán, Hynesie or Colin there’s probably ten or twenty guys who didn’t have what it takes. I certainly don’t think any less of the guys who couldn’t hack it—not at all—but when it comes down to it, I don’t shoulder any of the blame for that. None. Anyway, rant over…
Naas, in Kildare, is an absolute bitch to get to, especially with an evil SatNav! The last few times I headed there, I’ve gotten lost along the way! On Patrick’s Day in 2009, I was on the way to Naas for an IWW show with the Ballymun Bruiser, and almost ran out of petrol—it was a very, very close call, especially with the prospect of a lot of petrol stations being closed for the day. For the NLW show earlier in the year, I ended up on the N4 with JC Williams, rather than the N7, which got us a bit lost, and involved a lengthy detour. This time around- again- I ended up on the N4 (somehow) but got turned around fairly quickly, and back onto the N7. I’ve dubbed it the “Naas Curse”, but I’m more hopeful that I’d be able to get there hassle-free on another occasion, if it ever arose. (Incidentally, just for any non-Irish readers of this blog, Naas rhymes with “mace.”) Anyhow, I was in Naas for another NLW show. Surprisingly, I ran into Vic Viper there; he and I had been friends for a good few years in IWW, and I hadn’t seen him in a long while. It was good catching up with him. I worked with Joe again on this show; I was very happy with the in-ring stuff for our match. It was just the crowd that was a bit lacking. They were into it, but attendance was just down a tiny bit from the previous show, which was a shame.
Made the trip home solo, and stopped off for a pizza pie on the way; a delicious Apache Pizza with sausage, sweetcorn and chicken. I put it away like some sort of wild animal with impeccable table manners! Gotta treat yourself occasionally!
Thanks for reading, guys. That’s it for April. Until next time.
- Ballance.
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