It was finally here.
Like a wean on Christmas morning, I couldnae contain my excitement. I sprinted doon the......hall (see that should say stairs, but I live doonstairs in a 4 in a block, so technically I don't huv any stairs, but thats my cross tae bear mate) fulla beans, couldnae wait tae see what Father Dallas had brought me this year. I eagerly tore at the wrapping paper on present number one and it wis the thing I'd been waiting for all my life. The perfect gift. Wis it maybe a bit early for it? should I have maybe opened a coupla less significant gifts first? only time wid tell, but in this present moment ye could dae gymnastics aff my stauner for....
Grado vs Colt Cabana
Good fuckin lord in christ, and heaven wae the bible n the prayin an aw that shit. Aw man. Of aw the matches I envisaged being first, I couldnae picture it being this. I planned on taking notes throughout this event on my phone, just tae make sure I didnae miss anything good, but since yer my pal, I'll tell ye nae lies. I wis too busy screamin my fuckin lungs oot tae take anything resembling a note on this beautiful shit. Firstly yer man Billy Kirkwood introduces us to what lies ahead along with his commentary partner Dr Zhivago (awrite ya melt..its actually Sean David...can I no have any fun? fuck sake)then without further ado.. BOOM BOOM! Colt Cabana...oot he comes, lookin every bit of the lean mean 18 stone he weighed in at. A fuckin wonderful pop for one of the most entertaining men in professional anything. Compared to the Grado pop though? it wis nothing. Deathly quiet. Like a North Korean library, ye daren't pass messages tae yer pals wae yer eyelid movements in case the man caught ye. A nanny state. Grados pop made the pop Daniel Bryan got at Summserslam sound like Hampden when the away team sing their national anthem. He blew the fuckin roof clean aff the Edinburgh Picture House. 1,000 people in Unison. diehards, new cunts and mibbe even the odd dug. Chantin their lungs oot. LIFE IS A MYSTERYYYYYY.The match was entertaining stuff. Most of the first 10 minutes was comedy stuff and I'm no even a bit mad at that, cause when ye get two of the funniest men on earth together, ye cannae expect any other outcome. It wid be like bringing Brock Lesnar n Mark Henry together, and no expecting them tae rip phonebooks n eat them. A lost cause.
When a wrasslin match eventually broke out, it was cracking stuff. Lovely pace tae it. Grado gets aw his usual work in. Belter of a Rock Bottom after Colt blocked the first attempt, and a picture perfect roll n slice. Colt gets Grado up for the GTS, but couldnae connect. Other stuff happened so it did. Wrasslin stuff. This is the trouble wae reviewing fae memory, cause yer basically reviewing the scattered bits of brain matter that huvnae been wrecked by substance abuse and chronic chuggin, so sometimes hings get hazy. I do recall Grado trying to knock Colt down with shoulder blocks for ages, before finally getting him on the 68th attempt, and also a hilarious spot where Grado made Colt drink Irn Bru, much to Mr Goldmans obvious disgust, before Grado hits a fuckin Stone Cold Stunner for the win.
He barely has time tae enjoy the pop, before Chris Renfrew and BT Gunn arrive tae spoil the party. Clearly irked at Grado knockin his finisher, and probably a bit annoyed at no being booked (kayfabe...shhhh) Renfrew is a man in a mood. BT is his hired rottweiler ready tae bite on command. They gie Grado a wee dunt, wae their fist shaped hauns, before Colt comes rushing it tae gie him hauners. They clear the NAK oot the ring, before being chucked 8 cans of Irn Bru each, and daein the Stone Colt Steve Austin hing wae the beer cans, cept wae cans of Bru. It was just fuckin perfect. If this match wis a couch, I'd have shagged it rotten in my sleep. Nae doubt about it.
Leah Owens vs Nikki Storm(Bra and Panties Match)
Know whit? I expected tae huv a wee go at this, after getting my horny wee arsehole routine out the road about how much of a stauner it gied me. I'm a red blooded, card carrying hetero mate. Despite my enjoyment for Dolph Zigglers erse, I'm lassie daft. Yer aw fuckin gid smellin, lovely creatures and I sometimes wonder whit the fuck yer daein lettin us smelly dick wielding rotters anywhere near ye. How d'yees no just shag each other forever and leave us tae stew in wur ain filth? The only reason we even shower is so theres a remote chance of wur hole. Anyway, the match was fuckin good. The first Bra n Panties match I've ever seen which actually made some time for wrasslin. Storm is a wee bit of a cheater throughout this match but, cause her top has a kinda Russian Nesting Dolls thing on the go, anytime Leah ripped it aff, another smaller top wis on underneath. Leah wisnae uptae any such tricks, so after a decent wee bout, Storm strips her doon tae her skants n bra, n thats that. Leah reveals there tae be an even smaller set of skants underneath the ones she wis stripped tae, which wis when the horny wee arsehole bit came along, cause thongs are gid mate. I enjoyed the thong, and aye. As Storm is celebrating her win, Leah waits for her turnin roon and leathers her wae...eh...I cannae mind. Before jumping intae the crowd n nae doubt gettin that erse felt by a bunch of sweaty so n so's. Whit yees like eh! Fun match though.
James Scott vs Jimmy Havoc
Loved fuckin everything about this. Firstly, the crowd being split. Which is a direct result of yer man Jimmy Scott being over as fuck these days. Secondly, the fact that the match gained new significance when it was announced that the winner would face Rhyno at Fear and Loathing, and last but not least, it was arguably the match of the night. I've said for a while Jimmy Havoc is hugely underrated as a worker. The boy can fuckin go. And that wis on display here somethin fierce. Also apparently Scott worked this match wae a broken foot, which makes his work borderline remarkable man. Aw sorts of suplexes and throws in there. Including a full nelson throw, and a firemans carry intae some kinda sexy karate kick (I'm aware there will be a proper name for this move, but I don't know it so there ye go) Havoc counters by hitting a stoater of a hurricanrana, before hitting Scott with a back body drop intae a pin. Ach it was just a fest for the eyes in terms of aw the innovative throws, and some brutal kicking from both men and the finish matched the innovation that the match had carried throughout, when Havoc locks in hells gate. Scott struggles, but eventually somehow manages to dead-lift Havoc (tae be fair, Jimmy is probably 12 stone wae gravel in his pockets, but still impressive for a man with a sare foot) and slam him down for the pin. But just as the ref counted to 3, Scott is still in the hells gate submission and taps out. This leads yer man Dallas to emerge and tell us that cause of the ambiguity to the finish we'll have a triple threat match between James Scott, Jimmy Havoc and the bold Rhyno, and cause he's a cheeky wee rascal, after he and Havoc shake hands, Scott hits him wae Rhynos signature move. GORE GORE GORE.
The Bucky Boys vs Team CK vs Fight Club vs The Coffeys (ICW Tag Titles Match)
Card Subject To ChangeI'll no erse aboot. The wee "card subject to change" bit above is jiggery pokery. It did change. After The other 3 teams come oot, and the wee man drops some patter, James R Kennedy arrives to announce Team CKs arrival, only for BT and Renfrew to pan their melts in. I dunno if that's an ICW rule, that if ye knock the living shite outta any potential challengers, you automatically take their place In the match, but that's how it went down. I wisnae sure about this match beforehand, purely because these Fatal 4 Way Tag Matches tend to be exciting enough, but no really easy to get invested in, but I wis happily proved wrong because this was a beezer. Firstly it was an elimination match, so that gave it a wee bit of extra excitement and secondly, aside from the first 3 or 4 minutes, it descended intae pure and utter carnage. Organised carnage though, the typa carnage you and a bunch of other wanks talk about over Facebook, before ye go up the main street and set Argos on fire. Fight Club are the first to go out, and I assume this will lead tae them finally splitting up after months of tension, but nae sign of it yet. The match rolls on, and next to go out are The Coffeys. At the hands of Renfrew and BT I'm sure. They don't take too kindly to this though, and they take both the NAK members out, before oddly urging the Buckys to pin them. Then they kinda slap the new member of the Save Pro Wrestling movement about and say it was his fault, cause apparently he didnae comb Joes beard correctly before the match or something. They hit the new member/whipping boy with a smashing wee double team move, as Mark launches him up in the air for Joe to catch him with an uppercut on the way down. Sare yin. Not as sare as the Coffeys were with being papped out though (god thats awful patter..should be pit doon for that)
That's us down to two then, but no for long as that wee arsepiece Dickie Divers comes oot. Cheatin swines so they urr, but as I said earlier, the match had descended intae lawlessness long before. The numbers game proves too much for the Buckys and they drop the belts, thanks tae a double foot stomp off the top by BT on Davie, with Renfrew getting the pin. Gutted the Buckys dropped them, but BT and Renfrew having the tag belts makes sense if the NAK are tae be a dominant heel stable, so aye. I wis fine wae it. Hopefully it'll be a triple threat situation wae the NAK, Buckys and Summerian Death Squad at Fear and Loathing. Wae tables, ladders, chairs, cages, dumpsters and aw sorts of shenanigans.
After the match Fight Club appear tae be in the ring tae help Davie n Stevie up, baith wae huge welps on the their chest fae gettin chopped intae next month during the match, but instead they only go and turn on the boys, and instead of the Fight Club split we were all expecting we got a fuckin Fight Club heel turn. Swervetastic.
I wisnae gonnae put this in the review, but I will on the off chance that the person in question reads it. On the road back fae the bar at the interval, I got a wee bit lost. As in, I didnae find my way back to the wee set of stairs leading to the ring. I wis off course by about 5 or 6 feet. So when i tried to nudge my way along towards the steps, this was deeply offensive to some folk, and I got shoved a bit. I couldnae care less about getting shoved, but then as soon as I'm managed to get through, a guy genuinely thought it was cool to forearm smash me in the back. Gied me a proper dunt. To the point that I nearly dropped my drinks. I turned round and asked him quite genuinely if he "thought that wis clever" and I'll no lie, I basically offered him a square go. It was a bluff like, cause a square go widda got me papped oot, and I wis there for the wrasslin mate, but he met my eyeline once, shat it, then looked away. No bothering my arse now right enough, but I couldnae fathom the attitude. Going to ICW makes me fuckin happy so it does. If you're no in the same boat, whit the fuck ye daein there? being aw agressive and forearm smashin cunts. Behave yersell. So mate, incase yer reading this, i just want tae tell ye that fae deep in the bottom of my heart, I think yer a fuckin wank. Huv a nice life but.
Solar vs Andy Wild
This was shorter than it might have been, probably due to some issues during the interval, but it wis predictably stoatin. You'll struggle tae find someone in the UK better than Solar in terms of high flying wrasslin, and Wild is underrated as a wrassler. Technically one of the best in the UK. I widda had this match on first, but I'm just a cunt writing some words mate. Whit the fuck dae I know? Its a shame cause the crowd wis just a bit knackered at this point, and probably didnae get as invested in it as they would have. Solar hits a springboard RKO looking move and seemingly gets the pin, but the match is re-started cause Wilds a magician, and he threw his voice under the ropes. As soon as it re-starts Wild hits a peach of a Tiger Bomb, and makes Solar tap with the Boston Crab. Cracking wee match. Its a shame Noam Dar couldnae recover from injury in time, but Solar was a more than adequate replacement. Gid job wee man, away n get yersell a celebratory spray tan pal, yer chalk white.
Kaylee Ray vs Carmel (Last Woman Standing Match for the ICW FF Title)
This was fuckin unreal. Just a fantastic wrasslin match. Two talented lassies telling a smashin story. There wis cunts behind us moaning throughout, cause sexism is still alive ma man. If it wis fuckin Jester v Whippy workin the same match, they widda spunked thersells tae Jupiter, but because it wis two gid lookin burds, they couldnae fathom it. Some of the chants were fuckin rotten anaw. Kick her in the fanny? really mate? That's yer patter?
Anyway the match itself wis just perfect imo. As they battle on the outside, Carmel sets Kaylee up legs first on the bar, and plants her wae a DDT similar tae the one yer man Randy Orton does on the middle rope. They then make their way back intae the ring, and she only goes n does it again! Hitting her with the actual DDT Orton uses, cept better, cause Ortons face gies me anger lines on my foreheid. The match swings back n forth mare frequently than a Rangers fans opinion on Charles Green, and during the swinging Kaylee hits a belter of a German Suplex throw. I huv this on a note in my phone under "sexy Germans" so I huv tae assume it wis a suplex reference, and no somethin to do wae some pumpable tourists. Anyway, the match makes its way on the the stage only fuckin the bold Viper from FF tae come out of nowhere and set about Kaylee. It looks like shes formed an alliance wae Carmel, but she flattens her anaw, before the bold Kaylee squares up tae her. She departs and Kaylee launches a barrage of offense tae lay Carmel out for the 10 count, including a firemans carry slam typa thing and a swanton off the announce desk . Absolute cracker of a match. Cannae mind the last time I seen a womens match that wis even close to being as good. Kaylee gets on the mic afterwards, and in the broadest accent ye'll ever hear, announces that it'll be her vs Viper vs AWESOME KONG for the belt at ICW:FF next month. The combination of the excitement of the announcement, and the braw way which it wis delivered gied me much delight. Well done Kaylee hen. And huge congratulations tae Carmel anaw for her part, nice tae see them huv a wee hug after it anaw. BFFs 4 lyf.
Wolfgang vs Mikey Whiplash (Match for both the ICW Ttle, and Zero G Title)
For me this just edged Scott n Havoc for match of the night. Two of the most accomplished workers in ICW, and two of my favourites. I'm a Wolfy guy but, so it wid be a toe in the stanes if he didnae finally take home the belt. This whole saga has been a right tease so it has. First we thought he was gonnae take it aff Red in the Fatal 4 way at Fear n Loathing, but nope. Then we thought he wis winning the Square Go for sure, but yer man Whippy done the business there instead, and now we finally see him get another shot at the big prize, after taking the Zero G belt earlier in the year at Tramspotting and working cracking match after cracking match since winning it. Its all going swimmingly tae, after the pair of them clatter intae each other with a double shoulder block, before Wolfy gets to dominating. The tide really turns in his favour, when Whippy goes for a suicide dive, only to be caught and planted windpipe first on the barrier (I didnae really see this right, so it might no have been windpipe first, mibbe even didnae plant him on the barrier ataw, maybe he took him roon tae Nandos for some Lemon chicken, I cannae really tell ye for sure sir) anyway Wolfy looks like he's closing in on the win after hitting a powerbomb followed by a stoater of a clothesline. Proper knock ye clean oot yer boots typa number, but Whippys no done yet and managed to squeeze in that stauner inducing triple suicide dive bit he done on Grado at the last show. Properly impressive spot that is, one of my favourites in wrasslin right now full stop, never mind just ICW. The level of accuracy required to hit the move 3 times so quickly must be unreal, so fair play to the big bastard. Back in the ring the match goes back in Wolfys favour, and the "having a party when Wolfy wins" team are gettin ready tae get the bunting up. He hits the Gutcheck, then goes up top and nails the Swanton, and thats us. new champion. Surely. Not quite, as that pollution Jam O'Malley comes oot and pulls the refs leg before he can count tae three. Wolfy offers him a an engagement in fisticuffs (that sounds dodgy as fuck, but ye know whit I mean. Hand to hand combat......a fight) and off the distraction, Whippy gets Wolfy up on to the top rope, and nails him with a belter of a Finlay Roll tae retain the big belt, and add a shiny new one to his collection. As much as I was pulling for Wolfy, I've nae trouble with Whiplash continuing as champ. He's another who's never worked anything approaching a bad match in the year I've been attending these shows, and his mic skills are good. The crowd was fuckin red hot for this anaw, and it was in a good way. pretty much split down the middle in terms of who they were pulling for, mibbe very slightly in favour of Wolfy, and despite his apparent heel turn and re-alliance with Jam, Whippy gets a rapturous round of applause on his road oot. A match well worth the billing.
Next up we finally got the debut of David The Beloved. Dave wis here man, and he was a pain in the arse. Interrupts Dallas announcing that he's sober at an ICW show for the first time, and apparently he'd knocked one of Jimmy Whites auld waistcoats fae the snooker. He emerges wae the bold Chris Toal, Jamie Feerick and JD Bravo, and when I seen this I could only assume that it wis gonnae be the second coming od Demolition. But naw. Dallas just announces that he wis talking shite at the last show. Never had his pills ye see. So he'll no be turning heel after all. He's midway through a rant about ICW never conforming tae whit society wants it tae be, before this David The Beloved cunt comes oot. Accompanied by Sara, who he has pretty much brainwashed wae somethin Holy. Probably his cock. He and Dallas exchange pleasantries, before David attempts tae lure JD Bravo intae the light. He then enquires who Mr Toal is, and yer man hilariously informs him that he's Mark Dallas conscious. Mare rantin away fae David The Beloved, before Lionheart does another kiddin on he's a fan in his wee zipper routine, before rushing the ring and laying the holy one spark out wae a Rock Bottom. Better luck next time eh Davey ma man. Ye'll be needed tae enlist some decent hauners, or you gettin yer shit ruined is gonnae become routine.
Sabu vs Jack Jester
Aye. Sabu's still got it. If ye had any doubts (I did, and I'm ashamed of them noo) ye shouldnae have. It wisnae the most encouraging of starts to the match either, as there's a wee bit of aimless stuff involving the pink chair that was used in the Kaylee v Carmel match, and also three big 6 foot bruisers went right in-front of my eyeline as soon as it started, so I had tae relocate tae somewhere where I could actually see a fuckin thing. A table is brought out fairly quickly, and I think Sabu goes through it accidentally (unless I missed the cause of it, which is extremely likely) before they make their way intae the crowd, with Jester planting an elbow on Sabu off the bar. Back in the ring, Sabu reels out all his classic spots with the steel chair, like he wis recording an instructional video on various ways tae knock the shite ootae a pirate wae a pink chair. He then sets up another table in the corner, but once again its Sabu that goes through it. They the take shots each of embedding a corkscrew in each others skulls, cause a Jester hardcore match just widnae be worth watchin without some sare looking corkscrew action. Blood, sweat and tears ensue, before Jester seals a famous win by driving Sabu through a table wae the tombstone. A truly iconic match that lived up tae its billing. One that'll go down in ICW folklore, or I dunno. Something else poignant. I'm really tired, so my sincerest apologies if I didnae sum up that adequately for ye. I thought it wis gid so i did. Will that dae ye?
The night ends with Whippy re-emerging and cutting an unreasonably angry promo on Jester. Shoutin at us aw. Whits up wae ye mate, ye just retained yer belt and won another yin. Cheer up sunshine. The whole point in the promo is tae announce that they will once again do battle. This time for the ICW Title, and that Whippy is a heel again. For sure. Calls the whole crowd a bunch of arseholes, and even calls the lassies filthy whores I'm sure. Or words to that effect.
Overall, despite a small sprinkling of crowd unpleasantness, it was a fuckin crackin night. Every single person involved should be immensely proud of their efforts. As a wrasslin show I gie it a solid 9 Jacknifes outta 10, but as triumph for ICW as a company, and a triumph for invading the nations capital and painting it Black, White and Red, its a perfect 10 chief.
Smashin.
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