The Non-Fan Review // Kane vs. The Big Show vs. Raven from WrestleMania X-7

Before we go any further, may I make a small confession?

I absolutely HATE The Lord of the Rings. The books, films, all of it - I’ve always found the thing a slow, self-indulgent plod-athon with occasional bits of violence to tickle up the tedium: a potentially good story dreadfully told.

What could any of this possibly have to do with the Hardcore Championship Match from April 2001, I hear you ask (not unreasonably)? A good question with a surprisingly simple answer: this match is the same as Tolkien’s acclaimed Catholicism metaphor, in that it’s mostly walking at a leisurely pace with the odd smack here and there. Allow me to explain:

A weird echoey remix track of carrion birds plays out loud. “CAW CAW CAW CAW,” sing the raptors, as out strolls current Hardcore Champion Raven. Sadly not the Teen Titan of the same name, this fellow is adorning a white t-shirt, odd facial hair and Fonzie jacket; he pushes a shopping trolley full of wacky props to the ring, as an advert pops up for "WWF The Music, Vol 5”, featuring “What about me?” by Raven. Odd first impression for a 225 pound wrestler to make, having a song with a title that sounds like it was written by a whining 13-year-old girl?

But now for the challengers: pyrotechnics galore as a giant strides out, with girly black hair, flaming red tank top/leggings and a red/black mask like a Power Rangers villain. He also has a glove only on his right hand, maybe he burned it while making muffins? But whatever the case, he is KANE! The commentator starts gibbering incoherently about this 6 foot 10, 326 pound behemoth: “Kane scares the hell out of me and I am a fearless man.”…Isn’t that a bit like saying “he’s the best singer I’ve ever heard and I’m deaf”? Meh, who knows - Raven hits Kane with a wet floor sign just before the DING DING DING can sound, only to be thrown into the corner by the Brobdingnagian.

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL,” goes the music. Lulu? If only. The music goes all Killer Instinct as our third and final combatant makes his way out: it’s the 500 pound leviathan known as the Big Show! In his black leotard and extremely neat beard, he has inspired the commentator to start singing the Danger Mouse theme: "He’s invincible! He’s invulnerable! Quite possibly, he’s impervious to pain!” Whatever this commentator’s taking, I want some.

As Biggy (as I’ve affectionately decided to call him) struts his way to the ring, Kane chucks Raven at him; Biggy catches the Lilliputian and shoves his face into his armpit. Quite understandably, this makes Raven thrash about like he’s dying; he is saved by Kane leaping off the ropes onto Biggy! Raven dashes over and grabs Biggy’s enormous fetlock - ONE, TWO… But Kane kicks him away! Whose side is this giant in a gimp mask on??

Kane punches Raven over the soft foam barricade (just like on ITV’s Gladiators), only for them both to run through the crowd, followed by the tiny ref. As they get halfway to the gate through which they all entered, Kane puts Raven into a fireman’s lift, only for Biggy to appear out of nowhere like Hong Kong Phooey and kick the masked meddler in the chest, causing him to drop his mini-foe. Fans mug to the camera as the two massive fighters plus referee make their way to the gate; bizarrely, just as Kane catches up and grabs Biggy’s bonce, the camera cuts to the outside of the crowd. WHY? What is the point of that?

Back to the action and it looks like we’ve missed nothing, they’re STILL slowly making their way over to the gate, only to turn right away from the gate and towards the camera from before, still outside the crowd. Biggy hits Kane in the head, then they walk a bit more. This is a VERY odd thing to witness; again, the camera cuts away just as it looks like something interesting is about to happen. Whoever directed this needs to be taken off whatever he’s currently taking and given whatever the commentator is using.

Kane throws Biggy into a wall, then simply wanders off… It’s as if these wrestlers are bored of fighting and just want to walk about. However, Kane walks straight into Raven, who hits him in the head with a sign! I wondered when his wacky props from earlier would make an appearance. #ThatsSoRaven

Not approving of signs, Kane smacks the prop away and throws his enemy into a wall, ACTUALLY DENTING THE WALL IN THE PROCESS. Surely that’s going cost a bomb to fix, since they’re only renting this stadium?

Before Kane can hit the little birdy again, Biggy once more appears from the shadows like Darkwing Duck and picks up the masked madman, dropping him into a nearby stack of wood.

This leaves Raven to try to limp away from the slow, relentless Biggy. It’s exactly like the end of the first Terminator film; Raven even has Linda Hamilton’s girly hair.

Raven stagily falls down, allowing Biggy to throw him AND the ref into an enclosure and lock the camera out! A slight 50 Shades vibe coming off this part of the match, as gradually this chainlink enclosure prices to be better stocked than your average B&Q.

Very impressively, Kane tears the locked door off, just as Biggy drops a set of shelves onto Raven; as Kane starts hitting Biggy’s enormous head with a fragile block of wood, Raven proves to be supremely ungrateful by wrapping a bit of hose around Kane's neck. “Last I time I help you out, dwarfy,” Kane probably thinks. The mask is too tight for him to do anything more than hum a bit. 

Kane slams Raven into a chainlink fence, then uses the same bit of hose to throw the little ingrate through a window into what looks like a security room! I strangely find this satisfying. Perhaps I’m more evil than I realised.

SURPRISE BIG SHOW KICK! Yep, it’s uncanny how he keeps doing it but he’s managed it yet again, this time literally kicking Kane through a door into a room. Drunk off his amazing ninja kick powers, Biggy takes to opportunity to indulge in Brian Blessed-style enunciation as he picks up kane by the neck: “YA WANNA PLAY? WELL SCREW YOU. I’M GONNA… WRITHING ON THE FLOOR, AAAAAH.” Laurence Olivier, eat your heart out. But NO! Kane has graced Biggy by the neck, causing him to gurn like Sylvester McCoy mid-ferret. They slam each other THROUGH A WALL and end up writhing on the floor; they’re going to need Lawrence Llewellyn-Bowen at this rate, they’re making such a mess of the architecture!

And that it happens. As the two Brobdingnagians are rolling on the ground, Raven calmly walks through the door behind them, tips a table on top of Big Show, gives him a couple of kicks for good measure and then toddles off.

This fight is basically Godzilla vs Godzilla with the occasional input of Godzooky, when you stop and think about it.

The chase continues as Raven assaults a perfectly innocent security man and steals his golf cart. Somehow able to catch up to a vehicle moving slower than K9, Biggy gets Tweetie in a headlock, causing him to crash the thing ever-so-slowly into a chainlink wall. Bullitt, this is not.

As the pair once more grapple, Kane and the ref get into another golf cart to drive the 30 yards or so to the brawl. Actually, come to think of it - WHERE IN THE NAME OF WICKET THE EWOK HAS THE REFEREE BEEN ALL THIS TIME? More to the point, why doesn’t he do anything when Kane runs near Raven, which somehow makes his leg hurt?

Time for more traipsing about the place as our plucky trio takes turns to punch each other, throw each other into snack tables and chuck wheelie bins at each other. Then the trio climb a ladder, followed by the referee who has somehow picked up a championship belt— SERIOUSLY, IS THIS MAN ONE OF THE ANIMANIACS? HE JUST APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE AND BRINGS CONVENIENT PROPS OUT OF THIN AIR!

Out they pop from the ladder and they’re back in the arena, having done one giant loop of the place. Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed this tour of a random stadium in Houston as much as I did. More, if that’s possible.

A Glasgow kiss from Biggy knocks Raven down and he lifts the little man over his neatly barbered head. Seizing his chance, Kane kicks the Big Show’s big kidney, causing both of this adversaries to tumble into the the scenery new to the podium! The perfect finishing move from Kane as he jumps off and ground-pounds them both, just like in Super Mario Sunshine!

(On a side note, that is a BLOODY BRILLIANT GAME. It doesn’t get nearly as much attention as it should do.)

Our referee appears on the side of the scenery - he’s also teleportation - and counts ONE, TWO, THREE - Kane is the winner!

So, what have we learned from this experience?

First of all, it’s possible to have a wrestling match without a ring. Moreover, walking around and occasionally hitting each other makes for surprisingly poor television. But at least we can say it’s been tried once.

FINAL SCORE: 2/10

Short people got, no reason...

Next time for Nicholas // 

Matt Hardy vs. Jeff Hardy in THE FINAL DELETION

Written by Nicholas Peat //

@NPChilla

The Non-Fan Review // Ospreay vs. Ricochet from BOSJ XXIII (Day 6)

He who chases two rabbits catches neither.
- Japanese proverb

And that’s the major problem with this wrestling match: THE COMBATANTS ARE WAY TOO SODDING FAST! Seriously, this match is like the Flash made a baby with the Road Runner and that baby was christened by Usain Bolt with Billy Whizz and Cheetara from Thundercats as godparents. And then that baby was turned into a wrestling match. Allow me to elaborate:

Let’s go back to May of 2016; unlike me at that time, you were probably not furiously learning the best man's speech to my brother's wedding (it all rhymed, it needed extra rehearsal!), so you’re probably in better shape than I am to go to New Japan Pro Wrestling Best of the Super Junior XXIII (what a snappy title).

This Japanese show is such a subdued affair compared to the American extravaganzas we’re used to seeing: the arena is small but exceptionally well lit. Far from holding up signs about liking boobies or offering fish sandwiches, this crowd is extraordinarily controlled, sitting and clapping politely along with the music. But most gregarious of all: THERE IS NO COMMENTARY. I mean it: no odd observances from old chaps in cowboys hats, just silence.

Sorry, but this IS professional wrestling, isn’t it? Not a competitive sewing circle?

At this point, with zero fanfare, out walks our first hero: dressed like Adam Ant taking part in an am dram production of “The Mikado”, he’s a blonde chap with a union flag around his shoulders. Keeping the British end up - I approve. Chewing gum, shaking hands with the polite audience and doing little jigs, our hero poses like Darkwing Duck in front of the ropes, then does an impressive flip into the ring. The announcer in the ring gives him a hero’s introduction: “WIRU OSSUPURAE!” That’s Will Ospreay, a strangely-spelt raptor from Essex. Not much fake tan or “OH SHAAAAT AAAAAP YA FILFY CAAAAAAH” about this lad though.

But now the music gets more guitar-y and in dances our other fighter. His outfit of red y-fronts, Wonder Woman boots and a leather waistcoat is complemented nicely by his Matthew Corbett beard and big, shiny belt (I think it’s a prize of some description). Stopping constantly on his way to the ring to clench his fist and point at random people like a male Eurovision singer, he finally leaps into the ring and starts breakdancing. The announcer can hardly contain his excitement: “RIKOSHAE!” Ricochet is an American. But we aren’t holding it against him, he can’t help it.

* * *

A single wooden “tonk” sound means we’re off. After prowling around each other like lions for several seconds, the two finally get stuck in and grapple: Ricochet gets Will in a wrist lock. This is a VERY GOOD MOVE: the first thing I learned in my self-defence course from Sensei Gary was how easy it is to break an attacker’s wrist; but Will is no amateur, he does elaborate rolls and twirls on the floor to take the pressure off, like a disco caterpillar. But then Will bounces up, trips his foe over and gets him in an ankle lock, triumphantly saying “WHOO!” like a hyperactive Thomas the Tank Engine.

Ricochet flips out of this predicament but Will isn’t finished: he tries bending the colonial over his shoulders like that one scene in Men in Black II. (Am I the only one who remembers that film? Thought so. You’re missing nothing.) But beardy-weirdy isn’t standing for that! He rolls out of it and stares Will down, while making his nipples dance for the crowd. Alas, Will sadly can’t do this trick.

(It’s also one of the few I haven’t mastered either, though I can wiggle my ears and move each eyebrow independently. I can be booked for birthdays and weddings.)

But enough of party tricks: Will gets Ricochet in a headlock, only for the latter to pull the former’s hair and make him shriek “REF!”

Hang on - so kicking each other in the bollocks, hitting each other with furniture AND tearing off each other’s clothing is totally fine in wrestling, but PULLING HAIR IS AGAINST THE RULES???? Meh, the ref isn’t bothered either way so I’ll follow suit and watch the two combatants fight.

Sorry, did I say “fight”? I meant “bounce off the ropes constantly and flip over and under each other for a good 45 seconds like Power Rangers on ecstasy”.

I’m honestly not sure what I’m watching right now.

Somehow, Will crawls over Ricochet like a centipede - you have to see this to believe it - and flips him, but the American bounces back. Then, for some reason unknown to man, both combatants choose that moment to cartwheel into the ropes, backflip and land in the middle of the ring like Spider-Man. All in perfect synchronisation.

Is this how the Japanese like their wrestling, with sprinkles of Super Sentai-style aerobics? Because from my western point of view, it’s just going to tire them out quicker!
In fact, they really ARE tired after that little display: they square off to each other like kids in a schoolyard, then just stand still for a good 24 seconds.

Until Ricochet kicks Will in the goolies and slaps his face, to the ref’s disapproval. Finally, 5 minutes and 41 seconds in it’s more like a wrestling match rather than a West End musical!
Ricochet gives Will a pimp-slap, causing the Brit to emit “OOH YOU BASTARD.” Will is my spirit animal.

More twirling kicks and landing dramatically between the pair and Will gains the upper hand, pinning his adversary: ONE, TWO - nope, not over yet.

Creatively, Will puts his rival in an interesting hold where he clings to his back and pulls one arm up; if Will had just tickled him under the arm at this point, the match would be over with 7 minutes. Sadly, Will lacks my imagination and just grinds his fist into his enemy’s side. But Ricochet wriggles out and does a flip while holding Will’s head, so the Essex boy rolls out of the ring with a hearty “FACKIN ELLLLLLLLLL”. (I might have made up that last quote.)
Ricochet somersaults out of the ring and into Will, even making contact with the fans. In the west, H&S would have a heart murmur at this idea; Japanese fans seem to love it though. They’re a hardy breed, these Super Junior fans.

Shoving Will back in, Ricochet dives in over the ropes and ends up head butting Will’s chest while so doing, leading the Essex wonder to scream “YOU MOTHERFUCKER”. Mouth of trucker, this one. I wonder how many Japanese fans were introduced to naughty language from this match alone? But Ricochet isn’t finished! He presses his booty on Will’s collarbone, making his little legs wiggle like a six-year-old’s. Cute.

A few more blows, triumphant nipple-wiggles and a hearty “come on, Will” from Ricochet finally galvanise the limey to get up and punch his foe in the dong, only to end up being having his back hurt against Ricochet’s knee like Bane did to Batman. But that’s not all: Ricochet immediately stamps on the air around Will’s head, which somehow hurts Will’s eye.

How frightfully odd.

More elbowing each other’s faces and flipping about like Zebedee until Will jumps off the ropes and punches Ricochet with a hearty “PIP PIP CHEERIO, MOTHERFUCKER!” #britbantz
The American rolls out of the ring but the Briton flips onto hm, again making contact with audience members; I notice this time there are people with yellow t-shirts acting as human shields for the audience.

Then Will gives the camera a big, sweaty kiss. I have no idea how to process it and I need to ask myself some very searching questions.

Will drags Ricochet back in and they both seem to have sore backs suddenly; trying to get each other in locks, they’re both looking a little peaky. After a couple more attempts at getting each other in a lock, and kicking each other’s faces like Hero Turtles, the referee stands over the air, rolling around in agony, and shrugs. I admire this “I don’t really give a toss” attitude.

They both stumble out the ring and take turns in kicking each other in the face; once they’re supine on the floor, barely moving, the ref again comes over and seems indifferent.
But NO! The referee is slowly counting: “ONE, TWO, THREE…” Is the match over if they’re out of the ring for a certain amount of time? Well, they’re rolling on the floor, seemingly hardly capable of movement. Yet magically when the ref says “NINETEEN” they both leap into the ring like gazelles. CONVENIENT…

More blows exchanged, though the pair are certainly tired. Getting the upper hand, Ricochet is face-first in the canvas with his bum sticking out. Will pulls a face that says “I SHALL FEAST ON HIS ARSE!” and tries to bear hug him, only to be kicked away. This is a strange one.
They’re so tired and it’s getting infectious. Bet they regret those OTT gymnastics now! They take turns in trying to pin each other and even simultaneously pin each other at one point - would that have been a draw?

But in the end, it’s Will who jumps off the corner and pulls down Ricochet’s head, dazing him enough for a ONE TWO THREE - and it’s finally over!

So from first impressions, Japanese wrestling is much more subdued. I’m not entirely convinced this is a good thing: it’s much faster than any other match I’ve seen to date but harder to follow.

Ah well, at least Essex finally has a trophy to call its own.

FINAL SCORE: 3/10

Watashi wa Essex-jin desu.

Next time for Nicholas // Kane vs. Raven vs. The Big Show for the Hardcore Championship (WWF WrestleMania X-7) 

Written by Nicholas Peat // @NPChilla