People say that death and
taxes are the only two constants in this beautiful little (intelligently
designed) accident we call life. However, that is not true. As sure as your
Facebook news-feed will be flooded with how bad Mondays are on Monday
morning, you can better believe that
somewhere out there, a Pro Rasslin’ show
is just moments away from going down.
( Guaranteed to be the most horribly written, uninspired wrestling review you read today, unless you search the archives of this blog for another one.)
Saturday night, to our
recollection, was the first time that such an event took place in the
small-civic center sized 64th District palace at the former Summit
Junior High. It had finally achieved notoriety for something other than Frank
Lee , OJ Mayo, and Andrew Wiggins filling it to the rafters. It had finally
become more than a toilet for the elephants of the Shrine Circus. It would
finally have folks sitting mostly uncomfortable through and event other than a
poorly executed graduation ceremony or a sparsely attended Paul Pace concert.
Finally, a reason for all the bleachers, in their beat-up and splintered glory,
to be pulled out: Pro Wrestling was coming to town.
(For the record, Pro
Wrestling had made it’s way to Boyd County before, with a show at the
Fairgrounds, another at the *sigh* ‘Old High School’, and even a show at the
Catlettsburg gymnasium. That show featured an irate janitor who demanded the
performers return his tools in mid-match when they had procured them from a
table near ringside to use as ‘weapons’.)
Those shows were, well,
lousy. However, they were the run of the mill, "what did you really expect ‘Starrcade’?", typical, broke-down, independent pro wrestling shows. You know, the kind that have littered the
Armory in Ashland for years. (Aside of course from old Poffo ICW shows, Smoky
Mountain , and an NWA Bluegrass show, it’s been crap there too.)
This one was going to be
different though. For starters, it was in a building that we had talked about
for years , that would be a great place to have a show. Size, look, feel,
amenities…It has it all.
And it had name value.
Ohio Valley Wrestling was
created in the late 90’s by Jim Cornette and has produced or cultivated the
biggest names currently going at in their briefs on national television in a
pre-determined ballet of controled combat.
At one time, it was headed creatively by Paul Heyman, and it had been a
developmental promotion, think triple-A ball, for the WWF(E). Now, of course none of those mentioned or
alluded to persons have any connection to the promotion any longer, but it
still is a respected company in the industry known as America at it’s very
finest, Pro Rasslin’.
Replace the WWE pipeline with
their competition, TNA, and it’s still serving the same function it has for
most of it’s existence. The promotion is seen on TV in Louisville, where it is
based, and used to routnely fill venues, not sell out and with WWF stars on the
bill albeit, like the Gardens in Louisville. It recieves higher TV numbers, and
has also in the past, than even some WWE broadcast as well as their new ‘big
brother’ TNA’s locally in Louisville. Louisvillians love their rasslin’. Dating
back to the days of Jerry Lawler and the Memphis crew tearing through the
Mid-southern area of the U.S.
So, OVW is kinda’ a big deal,
so to speak, as far as wrestling companies go. Compared to what the boosters of
the middle school’s football team could have brought in, OVW was like getting
the Great American Bash to come to Summit.
So, we loaded up in two
vehicles, picked up a toddler to pawn our embarrassment off on in the event
someone we knew would see us walking in, (it’s funny, you can say you are going to the Big Sandy Arena to watch
wrestling, nobody thinks ill. You tell em’ you’re watching anywhere else, you
become a leper instantaneously.) and got prepared to have our senses assaulted.
So we get there, and every
image I had ever concocted of what the set-up for a show in the gym would be
like was smashed to bits. Not that it
was bad, but it just didn’t look flattering for a company that obviously knows
what it’s doing. At least there was no garage-band, party lights from Spencer’s
and a flat-screen TV on a tripod to replicate ‘TV’ rasslin’s pyro and stage
show. Kudos for not going that direction, and kudos for them not building a
jank, plywood ‘entrance ramp’ with some krudly painted flame motiff on it. No
ridiculous ‘fog’ machine entrances, and no light shows which are equivalent to
7 ADHD kids playing with flashlights.
Lord knows, there was enough ADHD kids on hand to pull it off though.
Next, as far as asthetics go,
because everybody cares what middle
school gymnasium production looks like, I was disappointed that the lights, all
of them, stayed on during the show. Now, that had more to do with the
facilities provided than anything. OVW didn't travel with a lighting rig, and
thankfully elected not to go the shop-light route to mimic stage and spot
lighting for the event. However, I am a fan of the ring being lit-up and
everything else being dark. The old scoreboard which used to hang over center
court would have been ideal for a lighting rig over the ring, but sadly, birds
nested in that thing years ago and the school system did away with it.
I don’t mean to sound like I
am tearing this show apart before it even started, especially considering it's a show
which is put on by a legit, honest to God, respectable company like OVW. Make
no mistake about it, this was not the run of the mill, I trained myself on a
trampoline in the backyard and asked if you wanted a car wash when you paid
for your gas, indy show.
Now, I honestly expected a
bigger turnout. However, the school was probably expected to do the promoting
as OVW was doing the show for them as a fundraiser. The school, bless their
hearts, did what they thought was going to be a sure fire way to fill the
building: The blanketed Waffle House with fliers. OVW has routinely filled gyms
and various types of other venues for years, we’re talking crowds of at least
500 people or so. They have to at times turn folks away from their TV home of
Davis Arena in Louisville due to capacity. They use people on their shows who
people recognize and know in today’s wrestling market. But chances are, unless
you are a 7th grade lineman or had your hash browns smothered and
covered while sober in the past month, maybe throw in listening to a country
music station at odd hours of the day, you had no real clue that this show was
going to happen.
About 120-ish people were in
the building and the popcorn machine was going full blast, mix that with some
folks who were either stunt-doubles for the ‘Hills have Eyes’ movie franchise or just were following the smell of ball sweat
and theater butter, and folks we got ourselves a show to watch.
The first match. People not
really knowing what to expect, and no real reaction to the the souls who have
decided to make a go at this traveling circus for their livelihood. It was
obvious that they were going to have to be drawn in and made to care, and 5
minutes into the start of the show, they didn't care.
I can’t recall one of the
names of the participants, He was bald, had a beard, and wore a hunting-camo
infused singlet, which was more like a spandex body suit minus legs bellow the
knees and sleeves. Oh, and he had a ‘Bone Collector’ logo on the front and a
rifle insignia on his rear.And, yes, he was a bit of a pudgy feller. Automatically, he should’ve radiated with the Boyd
County Folk, he was one of them. Only he wasn't. He kinda’ sounded like a girl
when he tried to gain support from the, still crickets, crowd. He was slow, not
very gifted athletically, but damn it he tried.
He was thrown opposite a guy who
looked Mexican, was named Elvis Pridemore, and mumbled some kind of trash-talk
on his way to the ring. Oh, and he was a ‘wanna be’ throwback straight to 1998.
Seriously, he was dressed exactly how those fools dressed in ’98. Any how, the
bald, backwoods-bull managed to get whatever crowd response he was able to down
the ‘wangsta’ in the first match. It was a fair match, I guess. The fact that
the kids in the flat-billed hats at ringside didn't hate this dude enough
disturbed me.
Then, I saw my 8th
grade math teacher and spotted my first sleeveless nWo shirt wearing dude with
his kid on the verge of a sugar-induced coma in tow. The night was getting
better, I could feel it.
Now, let me get into the fans
there real quick. Like the guy mentioned above, if you have ever been to a
wrestling show, you know what kind of folks are there. I am not going to throw
about any derogatory phrases or ridicule folks for no reason other than cheap
entertainment on a blog nobody reads. Just know, they were there. And yes, that
guy who thinks it’s cool to yell out at the wrestlers every five seconds, use
his ‘wrestling insider terms’ and to tell the ref to “ask em’” every time a
limb or appendage is grabbed. Yeah, thank God that guy was there.
And that Ref who he insisted
to ask 5000 questions? Well, his get-up was either meant to be ultra-flattering
for his physical stature, or he had just go off first shift at Cheddars. And
his motion to the time keepers table to ring the bell, was way over the top and
too enthusiastic. Seriously, guy, there was 120 people there, and at no point
was there any level of excitement displayed that would warrant you acting like
Magnum TA just walked into a ring and beat Nikita Koloff down in the name of ‘Merica.
Next match up, we got a young
guy who looked to legit understand how to be a wrestling heel. Although the
ring announcer, Gilbert Corsey,(think Rob Johnson, only black, of WSAZ doing
ring announcing duties) botched his announcements as far as his nicknames go,
he didn’t miss a beat playing heel. His name was Dylan Bostic, who I have seen
on NWA Southern All-Star several times. He’s got some talent. He was playing up
everybody is going to hate me because I am young, goood looking, wearing pink,
and I referenced Justin Bieber. They
didn’t hate him enough. That is until ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ hit the PA speakers.
I was pumped. We were all pumped. We thought for sure that anybody who was
smart enough to use that ballad as their entrance music would have to be our
guy. We waited in immense anticipation for what we thought for sure was going
to be the second-coming of Ricky Morton. An then it happened. He came out from
behind the curtain. It was a member of the 7th grade football team.
It was actually a guy named ‘Rock
Star’ Spud. And he was all of 5 feet tall. He had enrgy and enthusiasm and the
old lady’s in the crowd fell in love with him, partially because they were
either horny or wanted to bake him some cookies. Seriously, dude looked 12.
Spud was the first of the TNA guys to wrestle. He has been on IMPACT before and
he won the Gut Check competition in his native United Kingdom. Spud and Bostic
put on a fairly fast paced and finely executed match. Bostic normally should not ever going
to be the biggest man in the ring, but here he was. He looked like a monster
compared to Spud, and Bostic is what you would call small himself. Good match,
good pace, and good story telling. Spud defied the odds, made his comeback and
made a 5 year old girl happy.
That 5 year old girl also
provided some entertainment in the next match. Another TNA guy, Jesse
Godderz made his way to the ring and
immediately reaked of ‘I wear Affliction shirts to Applebee’s, bro.’ He was a
stout lad, thanks to probably mastering the art of self-inflicted shots and
cycling. He, however, was rather diminutive vertically. He obviously was in the role of the arrogant,
cocky, muscle-bound heel, Adonis. Flexing, posing, and kissing his various
bulges. “There’s no fat there”, he would say. His opponent was another guy who’s
name escapes me only that his last name was Diamond. I know that because that
little girl we mentioned tried to rally support to him all during the match.
She was a one person pep club. Unfortunately, she was really loud and awkward.
Any way, this Diamond guy looked like Stephen Baldwin playing Barney Rubble in
Flintstones. He threw a horrible drop-kick, too. This was about what you’d expect
from two guys who, one is too swollen for his what would be small frame to
effectively move, and the other who, well, looks like a Baldwin. One protein
shake and misplaced boner later, and I think ‘Mr. Pect-acular’ won. Oh, but don’t
think that little girl’s hatred for the meat-head went unnoticed. It Did
not. Godderz referenced the girl mid-match and her ‘Let’s go Diamond’ chant: “Yeah,
that’s who I’d root for.” As he stood over his fallen opponent, “Shut-up, kid.”
A over-performance enhanced bro yelling derogitories at a child. This truly is
my America.
Godderz may have been recognizable to some of you Reality TV buffs. He was previously on several seasons of CBS' 'Big Brother'... Which oddly enough, so was one of Sid Vicious' kids. He was also on TNA for a few months as the 'on-air' lover interest of Tara. That run resulted in him leaving TV , and being sent back to Louisville, with the last impression fans got was of him in a turkey suit that looked like a droopy ball sack. He yelled at a 5 year old girl in the greater-Ashland area. He's been vindicated, obviously.
Next up was intermission,
which was good considering I was with some chain-smokers and a toddler who had
previously dropped one off pre-opening match and had a void to feel. I’ll take that time to take a break here,
too. The conclusion of 6460’s coverage of OVW in Summit will be up later in the
day. And no, it’s not going to get any better.
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