Picture the scene. 1,000+ bodies piling into what on first viewing looked like an abandoned gym hall; each one more wide eyed and eager than the last, as they filtered past the vendies and badminton playing posers to queue up for what was to come. What manner of event could attract so many to such a place? Well for a start, this was nae ordinary abandoned gym hall. This was the gym hall tae end all gym halls. When you looked beyond the aesthetics that hit ye upon entering it, you felt its history. You felt the roar when Jim Watt first raised that WBC Lightweight Title above his head in 1979. It felt like a place that could house a golden era, but all golden eras must come to an end and more than 1,000 folk were piled in to the old place for its last hurrah. It was upto professional wrestling to give it that send off it deserved.
The night began with a wee preview of things to come from its protagonists, as Greg Hemphill and Rab Florence were introduced to the crowd by the MC for the evening, Billy Kirkwood.. Hemphill first to deafening disapproval, as he cut a promo calling Scotland a shitehole, and its inhabitants a bunch of nae good, pish stained junkies, or words to that effect. The boy Florence wis huvin none ae it, and tapped his canadian jaw for his troubles. That was that, on to the wrestling eh!
Davey Blaze vs BT Gunn
Solid opener here. The physical tone was set early on, when these two rogues made their way to the outside, and BT propped Davie up on the ring post, only for Davie to duck out the way, leaving BT to deliver a haun breaker of a chop to the ring post. They would end up actually delivering a few chops to each other, as the match swayed back and forth . Davey thought he had the win in the bag with a beezer of a spinebuster, but BT wisnae for hearin it, as he rallied to take the win with the superkick, followed by a forearm smash to the back of the napper. BT Gunn wins.
Scores on the doors - Team Hemphill 1 Team Florence 0
Wolfgang vs Liam Thomson
I was fair looking forward to this one, and it certainly didnt dissapoint. Firstly, the boy Wolfgang comes out on his fuckin Harley, narrowly overshadowing "Badboy" Liam Thomson entering hilariously to "Bad Boy For Life" by P.Diddy . Then the match itself kicked off, and it very much had a feel to it of two auld pals who have done this a million times before. Not a beat was missed in the ring, and outside it we had the all to rare treat of one wrestler trying to run his opponent over wae a Harley Davidson. Wolfy was not successful with his murder attempt, but he did have more success in simply pinning Thomson. It looked like he had the job done when he set Thomson up for the Swanton Bomb, but Thomson moved just in time, and took to the top rope himself to deliver a flying headbutt. Perhaps if he had gone for the pin there an then, he might have got the win, but the boay got greedy, and decided to rub salt into the wounds by delivering another flying headbutt with Wolfgangs helmet (calm doon ya middens, the helmet he uses to keep his heid safe on the bike) but on this occasion it was Wolfgang who got out the way just in time, and he picked up the win with that finisher he does that I still dont know the name of (basically a firemans carry into a gutbuster, but it must have its ain name)while Thomson still had the helmet on. Wolfgang takes the win and seemingly his opponent was his prize, as he popped Liam Thomson on the bike and rode off into the sunset. Setting the fire alarm off in the process.
Getting us back to level terms at - Team Florence 1 Team Hemphill 1
Nikki Storm vs Carmel
Ye know whit grinds my fuckin gears more than anything else in wrestling? The lack of respect afforded to the talented females we currently have giving their lives to it. For me its simple. gid wrestling is gid wrestling. Disnae matter if yer bits dangle or not, all that matters is that what you produce in the ring looks good and it makes sense. Judging it on any other merits its just plain sexism. As if a case has to be made, this match would go a long way to selling any skeptics on women's wrestling, as it was another stoater. It was of a slower pace than Nikki's encounter with Kaylee Ray at Oran War, but Carmel is a different type of opponent. More deliberate in her work, but perhaps with a bit more of an evil side. My view of the finish was rudely interrupted by the fanny sitting in front of me deciding to stand up, but I do know that Nikki Storm got the win.
Making it Team Florence 2 Team Hemphill 1
James Scott vs Jack Jester
I wasn't keen on this becoming a bumpfest, as I didnae see it as the best way to utilise these two, but I was happy to be proved wrong . It DID turn intae a bumpfest, but it was a damn good one at that. It all began in a civilised enough fashion, and fans of ICW would have been intrigued by the dynamic, with Team Florence's Scott as a face (and a fairly affable one at that) and Jester adopting the role of sour faced heel. It eventually made its way to the outside, and up to the seating section (unfortunately no the one we were in) where Jester was thrown from the balcony down to the floor (I assume there was padding there, because I would have noticed if he was deid im sure, he didnae die eh?) Seemingly gripped with a thirst for violence, James Scott wasnt finished, and he launched himself from that same balcony on to Jester. Somehow the two warriors emerged fae that ill advised base jumping sesh, and got themselves back ringside. With Scott in command, he introduced a table into the proceedings, launching it behind his head to catch Jester square in the jaw with it. He then used it as a landing strip for the double stomp off the top rope, as he had it propped on Jesters heid, but that couldnt get the job done. Running out of ideas, he set up a steel chair in the corner, surely intending to launch the Jester towards it, but that wily bastard reversed it and sent Scott mohawk first into the chair instead. Soon after he sealed the point for Team Hemphill with the Tombstone on the table. A valliant effort from James Scott in a match which surely suited the more hardcore inclined Jester from the start, but it wasnt enough. Jester wins.
Scorecards all square at Team Florence 2 Team Hemphill 2
Battle of Britain
Kid Fite vs Johnny Moss
Now for the first surprise of the evening, and that was the appearance of Gavin Mitchell (aka Boaby the barman) as special guest ring announcer. He emerged to a very decent pop actually, and proceeded to cement his "face" status by distancing himself from his pal Gregs conduct in the build up, and stressing that Gregs views were not that of the cast of Still Game (dunno how he found oot right enough, do they still have cast meetings to discuss their auld boss is uptae on twitter?) As Mossy entered, Auld Boaby was told on no uncertain terms that if he valued his teeth, he should remove himself from Mossys strikezone, and he duly obliged, leaving Mossy to cut a promo nae cunt really heard (the sound at times was a bit sketchy) but essentially the tone of it was that Scotland is shite, dont go there or children will stab ye. The match itself had a bit of a sluggish start, more concerned with bringing the crowd into it as much as possible, but when it hit its stride, it was braw. Make no mistake, Johnny Moss is a fuckin beast of a man. Think Batista, but twice the wrestler, and 10x scarier. The way he strings those German suplexes together, and makes each feel like it had more torque than the last, is something else. I also vaguely recall of a fucking topper of a superplex, somewhere in the middle, and as Kid Fite was seemingly closing in on the win, Boaby the barman rose to the apron, shaking the earth to its core in the process as he distracted the ref long enough for Greg Hemphill to rush to ringside and deliver a chairshot to Fito's dome. Mossy takes the win for England, and Boaby the Barmans heel turn was complete. Theres a sentence I never envisaged writing.
That made it Team Florence 2 Team Florence 3
The Kelvin Brawl Trophy
Noam Dar vs Lionheart
Tell ye what I'd love to do..I'd love to get aw the Wrestling naysayers together. I'd like to get them all in a big room together, perhaps in one of the Conference Halls at The Glesga Hilton, or Wembley or suhin. Just a room big enough for aw the skeptics that cry wrestling "fake" or "that thing for the weans" because I defy anyone who really sits and absorbs this match with an open mind, to tell me that professional wrestling is not one of the most captivating things you can spend your time watching. When it's executed with such unerring perfection, there just isnae anything better, and the fact that the two responsible for this spectacle are local to US. Me n you. We get to see this first hand because we just happen to live in close enough proximity to such talents that it allows matches like that to be nothing more than a bus journey away. Fuckin mental that eh? Its blessings like this, that make me wonder what folk really have to complain about in life. Theres always some poor cunt worse off eh, its no aw so bad, so lighten up, get some pep in yer step, an get yersell along tae that wrestlin'!
I cant really provide the words to do this justice, but I will say I genuinely hope its out there on video for all to see soon enough. Simply a masterclass between two guys who have unbelievable wrestling chemistry together. Some of my personal highlights included the kickout at 1 and middle finger after Hearto hit the Rock Bottom, that powerbomb type thing on the apron, the Oran War esque series of high impact moves and near falls, and finally the finish. As Lionheart gained redemption for his Oran War defeat with what felt like a 15th frog splash. Out came the bold Jim Watt to one last round of applause in the place that he helped make famous, as he was set to award the trophy to Lionheart, but of course there's nae chance that couldnt go off without some kind of interference. The source of that interference was Johnny Moss, who again cut a promo I couldnae hear properly, but which ended with him squaring up to Jim Watt, urging the champ to give him his best shot, and Jim duly obliged, delivering a couple of thunderous jabs to the belly, before landing one square on Mossys chin, giving him perhaps his most popular KO at the Kelvin Hall on its grand finale.
I was genuinely a wee bit taken aback by that outcome, but in a good way as it indicates that maybe the Lionheart isnt quite done yet. I certainly reckon they will go for it a third time whenever the next event in this series takes place, but I could see Lionheart coming out of retirement for good soon enough. He is just far too talented not too. He was one half of perhaps the best match I've seen all year after 7 months on the shelf, and that says to me that he still has plenty to offer.
What can you say about Dar? a fuckin superstar at this game. Pure talent. I hope his efforts to make it beyond this vibrant local scene dont bear fruits for another few years, but thats from a purely selfish standpoint. Surely its only a matter of time until his talents are seen by a wider audience, and see if that wider audience don't appreciate him like we dae? it'll no be a Drew Mcintyre type situation where we watch his demise from afar and get sad about it, we're taking the boy back!
Away wae the fairies there eh, but is quarter past 4 in the AM, and I may or may not have a wee buzz on the go. That wee glimmer of kindness in yer eyes says tae me that ye forgive my lack of professionalism, and I can get on wae describing the Main Event to ye, so I'll fire in n dae that shall I?
Grado and Rab Florence(with Adam Shame) vs Red Lightning and Greg Hemphill(with C.P.T)
I enjoyed this 10x more than I ever thought tbh. The finish aside, it was a fucking riot from start to finish, and was worked to perfection. Before the match began, we ironed out this business with the score being uneven, with Florence challenging Hemphill to make the main event "winner takes all" with the condition that the match could only end if one of the team Captains earned the decision. Hemphill agreed for eh...some reason, no entirely sure tbh, but it worked out no bad for him in the end ;) The early part of the match correctly focused on the two wrestlers involved in the contest, and was the usual engaging affair between these two. Lightning looked like he was in his best shape in months, and cut a great heel promo, promising to flee to Canada with Hemphill once they had taken care of business.
We got the usual pre match taste of Grado flair, as he emerged team handed wae a troupe of dancers to Like a Prayer. The pop was unreal. So loud, that even the select few in that hall who might not know who that fine figure of a man standing before them was, couldnt help getting caught up. The exchange between Red and Grado was brought to a close when Red tagged Hemphill in, and what followed was classic auld pro (Grado) noising up the rookie. A wee bite on the arse here, a wee footstomp there, wound the big Canadian puddin right up, until him and his Team were ready to bolt. Red took to the outside to stir up some heat, stating that his team wouldn't be continuing if the match wasnt taken more seriously, only to legitimately take a beer to the face from some fanny. The fanny bit off more than he could chew however, as Reds fist made a beeline for his jaw, and all of a sudden he didnae seem so brave. The match rolled on, with Florence yet to make an appearence, but that was soon rectified as he finally squared off against Hemphill.What followed was a bit of a slappy type of affair, although Florence certainly looked the sharper of the two, and he got the upper hand after smacking Hemphills heid aff the top turnbuckle of each corner. He then delivered a decent looking elbow drop from the middle rope, but he must have lost his fuckin mind on the road doon, because he wanted to go up top next. During his struggle to reach the top rope, Hemphill had stirred and managed to tag Red back in, and Florence wisely got himself tae fuck, and got Grado back in. There was a roll n slice in there somewhere from Grado anaw and a picture perfect DDT, and the game looked up when Grado laid Hemphill spark out and tagged in Florence to get the pin, only for Team Hemphill enforcer C.P.T to stop the count. It was a classic case of taking one for the team, as that would be the last action C.P.T would see, before being hoisted to the back by The Shamer. In the middle of all this, Hemphill managed to lock in a belter of a sharpshooter, paying homage to his canadian brothers, and it looked like Florence would tap, but he managed to reach the ropes.
The match was nearing its close, and it looked like it would be another win for Team Florence, when Grado once again laid Hemphill out, this time with the wee boot, and tagged Florence in for the easy pin, but inexplicably the dafty decided to make good on his promise to deliver an in ring "selfie" for his twitter following. He just couldnae get the right angle for it though, try as he might, and red sneaked up behind him to deliver the Michinoku driver, and tag Hemphill in for the win. Making it a final score of Team Florence 2 Team Hemphill 4.
Red and Greg delivered their wee departure speech, promising that this is the last we'd see of them, before Red left Greg to bask in the glow of victory. Looked like the end of what had been the brawest of evenings, but we werent quite done yet.
Out came a squad of masked vigilantes, five of them in total. One could be easily identified as Joe Coffey, and I had a strong suspicion another was Chris Renfrew having seen cuttin about earlier in the night. Two of the others were revealed to be Damian O'Connor and Kaylee Ray, and their reason for being out there was pretty clear. All four had voiced grievances at not being involved in the card, and were out to deliver some toe to baw justice in the direction of Hemphill (having previously attacked Florence on their way to the ring I believe, although I didnae see that, so that might be shite) With the first four unmasked, the fifth finally revealed himself to be FRANKIE BOYLE, which perhaps got the biggest pop of the night. The pop eventually died down to murmurs of unrest though, as Frankie went away off on a ramble about independence, finally revealing that he was to be the head of a new team at and event at the Glasgow Hydro at some point in the not too distant future, as part of an independent Scotland he hoped. I wisnae really bothered about the independence patter, but It was a bit out of place. Imagine Sean Connery turning up at hauftime in the fitba to raucous applause, before delivering a 15 minute speech on how we all have to help save the whales. Yer raisin valid points tae me like, but I just want tae see if my number comes up in the hauf time draw mate. Get on wae it.
All in all a great showcase for Scottish Wrestling. Which amongst the excitement is really what it's all about. Giving these talented folk, an opportunity to show a wider audience what they can do. If anyone entered that venue a non-wrestling fan, and didnae leave converted, they obviously didnae pay attention.
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