- originally written Oct 30th, 2010-
Well, not really… This blog is very much in two dimensions only! Sorry if you feel cheated. That’s pretty much how I feel any time I’ve to pay over the odds to see a film in 3D! I know this is primarily a “wrestling” blog, but if you’ll just allow me this brief aside: I’m sick to death of 3D films. Call me a luddite if you will, but there really is no need to have most of these 3D films in three dimensions! Aside from Avatar- where the 3D effect DID actually add to the feel of the film- I haven’t seen a 3D film that genuinely made use of the concept effectively. My Bloody Valentine was a lot of fun, but I mainly enjoyed that for the actual story, and because it was a good horror film, not for the 3D. There was absolutely no need for Clash of the Titans to be in 3D, or Final Destination 4 (which was abominable). Even, recently, Saw VII (or “Saw 3D”, as it was released) could’ve been released as a 2D film easily enough. Bar one or two moments in the film, like a hacksaw flying off screen, there was little 3D action. Still unsure what I thought of Saw VII, incidentally; I’m a firm follower of the series, and have enjoyed the arc throughout the films, but I don't know if it was the finest way to end. That’s if it is, in fact, the last one. From the film’s conclusion, there’s plenty of room for a Saw VIII, if they decide to go down that road. Anyway, my main point: the 3D gimmick’s being done to death. I’m tired of it. That is all. On to the wrestling!
I wrapped up June at the end of the last blog, and had notched off the first of my three weekends in Scotland. The second weekend took me back to PBW, for their show on the Isle of Arran. I flew in to Prestwick Airport in Glasgow early on the Saturday morning, and got a ridiculously overpriced breakfast in Dublin airport beforehand; how sausages, beans and toast can come to over six Euro is beyond me! Needless to say, this was NOT a sensibly-priced meal, and will be the last time I eat in Dublin Airport! Anyway… Scottish worker Logan Storm picked me up from the Airport, we hung out for a few hours, and then caught the ferry to the Isle of Arran. It was my first time since my youth getting a boat anywhere (if you ignore the Strangford-Portaferry business I got myself into before April’s Newtownards show) and the trip was enjoyable. Logan’s a very nice guy; though we’d met a few times before at other shows, it was cool chatting with him a bit more at length.
Arriving on Arran reminded me of The Wicker Man, in a way; one of my favourite films. (The original film, that is, as opposed to the abysmal remake with Nicolas Cage. Ugh.) The sense of paranoia and distrust towards ‘mainlanders’ was palpable! The show was a matinée, and we arrived at the venue just as the doors had opened. I was originally due to face ‘The Highlander’ Colin McKay, but that got changed, and I ended up in an enjoyable three-way with Justin Thorn and Jamie Feerick, both exceptionally nice guys, and cool to work with. The turnout wasn’t phenomenal, but those in attendance seemed to enjoy the show, and made a sufficient amount of noise to provide a good atmosphere for proceedings.
Once the show wrapped up, we’d a few hours before the next ferry crossing back to the mainland, so twenty one of us headed for a bite to eat in a local restaurant. Yeah, twenty one… This was approximately three o’clock in the afternoon, and the management there were NOT happy to see us! Not one jot! I can understand that having such a large group descend on you without notice would be stressful but, at the same time, it would be a huge taking, money-wise, for the restaurant. As I say, I understand the stress—I worked in a very busy McDonald’s in Dublin city centre for three years—but the staff in this restaurant were very unprofessional, and brusque, and the food was the epitome of bland. Heh heh: “Bingo Ballance: Food Critic”! The only saving grace was a reasonably tasty chocolate brownie-type dessert. At any rate, not an especially pleasant dining experience. The ferry back was shortly after, and from there I went back to Colin McKay’s with Andy Wild, and we stayed there for the evening, along with an SPWA trainee named Jordan, getting a takeaway, and watching Family Guy.
The next day, I was taking a training seminar in the SPWA facility in East Kilbride. I like training, I have to say, as I think I touched on in one of my earlier blogs. Unfortunately, bar the odd seminar, I haven’t gotten to do a great deal of it regularly, since the IWW facility closed down in August 2008. Actually, just as I’m speaking about that, I’d like to share a couple of quick memories from IWW over the years training there; for amusement, if nothing else. *cue flashback*
Where to begin? How about with the trainee who got a bit… eh… “excited” during training, if you get me… Excited in his trousers, if you follow. Mm-hm. That’s right! Heh heh heh. That was memorable, certainly! I really pitied the poor guy who had to take a waistlock from him, on one occasion! What else…? Ah, yes. There was one other guy who was essentially a pathological liar, who lied about everything from his age to his wrestling experience—he had none, previously, but tried to convince us that he’d wrestled for IWA Mid South in a deathmatch, and got a dark match with Hustle, in Japan—to his childhood friendship with a current WWE wrestler, and so forth. I just don’t understand why people tell lies like these when they can be so easily rumbled. What, do they expect that people just won’t find out? I don’t get the psychology of it. He wasn’t a bad guy per se, but I don’t like being bullshitted. Bullshat? Whatever. You get what I mean! A regular reader of this blog also cut one of the most memorable promos in the history of training, showing an amazing amount of creativity for why he wanted to face his hypothetical opponent; the scurrilous rogue had stabbed this trainee’s horse in the neck with a screwdriver! Heh heh. Awesome! Another guy had an inexplicable inability to keep his pants up. I eventually became desensitised to the sight of his ass crack being on display! Manson, who’s thankfully a bit more upfront than I am when it comes to matters like this, told him to get his pants up during one class, leading to the guy wearing his pants way up, like a geriatric. Another amusing visual! My most lasting memory regarding that guy, however, would be giving him a bodyslam during one class, and him appearing to void his bowels! Ah, memories…! If I think of any other decent ones, I’ll include them in another blog. Anyway, back to 2010…
I’m surprised I actually made it to the session. I slept the previous night in the front room, where Andy & Jordan were also sleeping. The TV was on during the night, so I woke up with it on that morning. The lads were still sleeping, and the remote was on the coffee table. In order to reach the remote, I’d have to negotiate my way around them both, and risk waking them, which I didn’t want to do. I, thus, took one for the team, as they say, and suffered the Never-Ending Carousel of Misery that is the infomercial for the Ab-King Pro! *shudder* I considered just ending it all right there!
Anyway, around noon I think it was, we headed to the SPWA facility, and I began my class/seminar. To be honest, I was quite disappointed by it. I’ve definitely done better classes. The main problem was the huge variance in ages and standards. So, all in the one class were people as young as 10 or 11 up to those in their mid-twenties, and people who had a few years’ experience under their belts to those who’d never even bumped before. Trying to do things that would suit everyone was nigh-on impossible, and where I tried, I think, to do stuff that would suit both groups- both experienced and not- I don’t think either was sufficiently catered for. It was disappointing, personally, as I always hope that if I do a seminar, each person can take at least one thing away from it that could be of benefit to them. I remember attending guest seminars in the past where I felt that my money was completely wasted, so I definitely wouldn’t want anyone feeling that way going away from one of my classes. It was a shame, anyway, but thankfully wasn’t my last seminar this year.
Annoyingly, my flight back was hugely delayed from Prestwick. The flight was due to leave shortly after nine, but I don’t think took off until well after eleven. It was frustrating, especially as I’d have work early the next morning. I whiled away the additional time listening to the iPod, and reading—I think I was reading Harold Pinter’s play ‘The Hothouse’, which was very good. I eventually got home, got four hours’ sleep, and that was it for the second weekend. Two down, one to go.
The final weekend of the three was in Bathgate, again involving a flight to Prestwick. I was met by Calum, who I hadn’t seen since March. It was cool catching up with him. He was to make his début in two weeks' time, so was suitably stoked (as they say in the States.) We hung out at his place for the morning, playing some Guitar Hero. I am RUBBISH at Guitar Hero! Whether it was ‘The Kill’ by 30 Seconds to Mars or ‘Knights of Cydonia’ by Muse or ‘All these Things That I’ve Done’ by The Killers, I’d always invariably be booed off the stage! Why would they come to our concert just to boo us? It brought back to my mind the anecdote I’d heard where Morrissey (former lead singer of The Smiths) had been bottled off stage…. at his OWN concert! Heh heh. I think he was midway through one of his songs, and someone had thrown a bottle-cap onto the stage, and it hit him in the face. He took his guitar, and left the stage, as the punters rained boos down on him! Can’t really blame him, but anyway, I digress… Where was I…? Ah, yeah: I’m crap at Guitar Hero.
Calum & I headed to Bathgate in the afternoon, and hit the venue, figuratively-speaking, for the SSW show later on. Nice seeing a few familiar and friendly faces there, like Muzlem, Falcon, Ken Adams, BT Gunn, and Chris Rampage, who I’d seen the previous weekend at the show and seminar. I also met, for the first time, the oldest active wrestler in the UK: Dave Kidney, 79. I didn’t have a chance to see Dave wrestle, but he was a gent to talk to. Very nice chap. My match was a face-vs-face one with Ken Adams; a lovely guy and a very good worker, into the bargain. As much as I enjoyed the match, it was marred somewhat by the worst referee I’ve ever come across in 5+ years wrestling. (Even worse than a ref that fucked up the finish FOUR times in a match I had with Jay Knox in December of last year!)
To be honest, I should’ve known what I was in for. I’m a firm believer that a ref is an integral part of the match, and can definitely help build suspense and add fundamentally to the excitement of the finishing sequence through how he paces his counts, if you get me. If you hit a pretty big false finish and the ref counts slow, it’s kinda obvious that a kickout’s coming. If he counts just that little bit faster, it really, really amps up the suspense, and tension. It’s amazing how a tiny thing like that can make a difference, but any good ref that I’ve been in the ring with instinctively knows these things, and understands the psychology of how a faster count can help lead the fans to thinking the finish is coming. I’d be a little particular about that; if I want the ref to count a bit faster for a particular move to increase excitement, I’ll let him know in advance and, generally, it’s quite effective. I tried to explain to the ref in this match that I wanted him to count a bit faster when Ken hit the Code Red (a sunset flip powerbomb) and it wasn’t getting through to him. I explained the move, when it would be hit, and so forth, and he really didn’t seem to be understanding what I was asking of him. I left it, and sorta knew that he’d fuck it up somehow. Wasn’t a big deal. What I wasn’t counting on, if you’ll pardon the referee-based pun, is that the man would actually manage to fuck up the opening spot, too!
The opening spot involved Ken & I going back-and-forth a little bit, and would eventually lead to a fast-paced pinning sequence, where we’d trade pins back and forth. Essential to this spot is the ref jumping around the place, counting the pins, and wearing himself out! Done well, the spot gets a good pop, and the ref’s reaction can usually add to it. This guy didn’t even leave his feet! Several times, we had pins, and he just stood there. I had Ken pinned, and barked at him to count, then Ken reversed, and he just stood there again! Despite the ridiculousness of this, I again shouted at him to “COUNT!!” even though I was the one being pinned! The guy gave sporadic standing counts, as we traded the pins. All the pace had been drained from the spot, and I was quite pissed. Yelling “COUNT!” proved ineffective; I was more inclined at that point to just drop the ‘O’ from that word, but it was a family show…
The match nevertheless went on and, despite the appalling refereeing, I enjoyed it thoroughly. It was good fun. The show, too, was fun, and it was nice, atmosphere-wise, backstage. I like SSW, I must say… Went back to Calum’s post-show, and enjoyed some Family Guy, and a pizza pie! The flight back was the following morning, and Calum very kindly got me there in plenty of time. That was it for my Scottish trilogy, as it were.
I was expecting that to be that for July, but I got an unexpected offer to do a Wrestling.IE show later in the month, in Irvinestown, Fermanagh. Had it been on the same money as I’d been paid previously, I would’ve definitely turned it down on principle due to the messing around from earlier in the year, but since my full expenses and fee was going to be covered, I decided to head along. I worked Joe Cabray in a singles, which was quite good, and we also had a tag match, where he & Casey Owens faced me and Rachel Walker. That wasn’t so good. It was a bit of a mess, to be honest, as mixed tags can sometimes be, but what can you do? Casey, who’s one of Bonesaw’s trainees in the North, impressed me, though, and seems to be coming along well. My most enjoyable bit of the night was getting to cut the promo to challenge Joe & Casey to the tag; I don’t think I’d ever gotten a chance to take the mic in the promotion previously, but I was happy with the promo, and felt it got the job done quite nicely, getting the fans into it… I was actually paid a little bit more than what I’d asked for as a “thank you”, so that was quite sound of Steve, the promoter. Certainly, a nice gesture. The drive back to Dublin was grand, and my meal of choice once I was closer to home was some delicious fried chicken and chips from Hillbilly’s, a former IWW haunt, back in the day. They do some really nice food, particularly their gravy dip, which is simply outrageous. Heh heh.
And that’s it for July. That was a bit longer than I’d expected it to be! Heh heh. Thanks, as always, for reading, guys.
Ballance.
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