Where exactly are these holes in the cultural fabric where people gather to watch fake wrestling in small intimate venues? I just simply can't imagine being enthusiast enough to find and support your local "indie" wrestling scene.
I'm guessing there's beer involved.
Raoul Duke 138
ou haven't lived until you've seen independent wrestling in an abandoned steel warehouse in Glassport Pennsylvania at 1:00 on a rainy March night.
You know those areas that give you the creeps when you drive through them at night? Not the bad neighborhoods where Negroes mill on corners, but the industrial areas on the outskirts of towns that lost all their industry in the 1980's. Slag-piles orange under sodium arc lights? Rusting cranes leering over tin-roofed cinder block structures? Sound familiar?
Once a month, one of those block-long asbestos nests plays host to the most bizarre and invigorating spectacles I have ever been a part of.
Why was it illegal? Trespassing.
Someone somehow sets up a ring, a PA, bleachers and concession stands in these warehouses. Without the owner's permission or knowledge.
You can hear the diesel generator chugging and smell the sooty exhaust before you even know where the match is. Many times, that's how you know which old, condemned building you're heading for. Most times, though, you just look for the crowd gathering.
These places don't attract crowds, normally. These burned out and failing spaces usually just serve as a reminder. What used to be here. Where Dad used to work. What this place used to be like.
It's still a reminder. Not a reminder of the way things were, but a harbinger of the way things are and will be. Cold and violent. Uncomfortable, wet, drafty and poisoned. Dying or already dead.
That's why we were there.
It wasn't about watching clumsy brawlers in home-made costumes brutalizing each other. It was about confronting our own desperation. Seeing where we were headed and trying to get used to it.
I actually was going to submit this last week but never got around to it. Go fig.
This guy is either a plant or retarded... or possibly both.
|Monchiles Monchiles |
This man did not follow proper chanting etiquette. You always yell your chant twice, three times at most, and if no one starts chanting with you then you drop it and never try that chant again. If someone does chant with you then everyone chants until the natural dying down of the chant prompts you to stop. If you're the only voice chanting then you get at most two repeats then you must stop and not start back up again until something chant-worthy happens.
Doesn't anyone watch Jerry Springer anymore?
Ah, the etiquette of wrestling...
I like chanting in my brown Comme des Garçons single button, it breathes and it conveys a sense of casual formality. Generally I will wear a watch and fob, as it hearkens to a time when men would proudly attend the great sport of Greek wrestling in their local plazas, expeditions and foyers.
And to drink? I know it sounds pedestrian, but I do enjoy a chilled grappa with my grappling.
As far as the chanting itself, I generally start with a "Ra ra ra," as it tends to motivate the young men of the audience. I often follow this with a "sis coom ba!" if I feel that there are not enough participants.
I recall one match between the Great Tiger of Monte Cristo and the Lebanese Dazzler Fantastique that had the entire audience, even the ladies in their trefoiled spring dresses.
|Hugo Gorilla |
Sir, could you please top chan-
It's just we're trying to watch the match an-
No, please, sir, stop chan-
We really need a commentary bulbing system for the likes of baleen and Raoul here.
|Mayberry Pancakes |
Maybe the man just really likes Super Dragon.
A little sad.
After all that cheer-leading, the target of his admiration threatened to kick his ass.
How heartbreaking it must have been.
Y'know, I just wrote a bunch of words explaining why this guy needed to be beaten with a wrench, and then I realized writing so many words about it made me the guy who needed to beaten with a wrench.
Don't cry for this man. He deserves worse.
Capital amusement, whether this was staged or not. Huzzah!
Super Dragon really knows how to work the crowd.
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