This section will cover my seventh year in pro wrestling, 2017. Previous sections:
Chapter 40 – Tough At Home
2017 was a year in which I strived to really cement myself as a viable prospect in pro wrestling. I had already experienced a lot more than someone of my initial ability should’ve had. I think what allowed me to achieve those things was taking a chance on myself early on, and then working really hard as much as possible, to be continually better.
There were a few opportunities that I felt I’d missed out on for whatever reason. I would’ve loved to have been a part of WCPW, when that launched in 2016, for example. I believed I had all the tools in which to be able to do something, and indeed the 4 guys from House of Pain who were a part of the roster, thrived in those early days, and in a couple of instances, used that platform to achieve great things over the coming years. Alas, that was not an opportunity for me, and I had to focus on the things that I could control.
I wanted to try by the end of the year to get myself involved with some of the ‘bigger’ companies in the UK, initially, and hopefully abroad, later down the line. There was no Japan booking in 2017, so I really wanted to focus on progressing at home, something I had regularly neglected to do.
I cut all my hair off in January,as I was sick of seeing my ever noticeable receding hairline in photos. I didn’t like it though, growing it back straight away, and attempting to ignore that I was quickly receding. I would realise the error of my ways later in the year, and whip the fucker off for good.
Abroad-wise, I had a booking in Thailand, in September of 2017, at the Japan Expo in Bangkok. It was another Gatoh Move/ Michinoku Pro crossover event, and this time I was booked in a multi man tag match. I thought that I was very much ready to go, and as a make up for missing out in 2016, I offered to pay my own flight and accommodation. I fancied a few days in Thailand, to recharge my batteries, and I was in a position where I could afford to do so, and it wouldn’t tie me to any further wrestling commitments. I could go be a pasty tourist for a few days.
I got to the day of the the flight, and I just didn’t go… I felt really apprehensive about going, and felt as though I really needed to stay at home.
I had a few reasons as to why; I felt as though my relationship at the time was failing, and I wanted to just spend time together and see if I could fix it. We did manage to muddle through another couple of years at least… My second reason was that I couldn’t get excited by it – I knew that this would potentially rule out any further invites to Gatoh Move, definitely in Thailand, and maybe even Japan – but something didn’t feel right for me. I know I still owe Pumi a booking at some point…
I lost money on the flights, but for some reason that really didn’t bother me.
With that in mind 2017 was all about making it at home. Did I succeed?
I guess I did, to a small degree, but a lot of it left a really sour taste in my mouth, which really started to make me feel as though I needed a break from wrestling at somepoint.
Chapter 41 – The Eye of Chaos
Where better to kick off the year, than at home. House of Pain. 2017 was yet another year of expansion, with 3/4 shows a month being a regular occurrence. In terms of my involvement with HOP for the year, this was to be my biggest year ever. It ended up being quite the rollercoaster in good and bad terms, and opened my eyes to a few things related , and unrelated to the Academy.
The early part of the year was spent consolidating and attempting to raise my standing as one of the top babyfaces in the ‘company’, mostly in tags and multimans. As we got to March/April time, we started turning up the association between myself and the Heavyweight champion, Kyle Kingsley. I’d often be the one making the save in his matches, or partnering him in tag matches. If you recall from the last part, I’d won a rumble in the latter part of 2016, which entitled me to a championship match against the champion, who happened to be Kingsley.
One match of note was myself and Kingsley taking on the big bastard tag team ‘Hellbound’, consisting of Barricade and Alton Thorne, in St Anns. I think we stole a win, but they beat the piss out of us post match. I really liked working with Thorne & ‘Cade, as everything was really physical, impactful and importantly, believable. The crowds really bought into the power and presence that these two carried themselves with.
So – onto the title match in July, which took place in the new Beeston venue, which I think I’d only really worked in a couple of times previously. A note on the Beeston Y&C centre, which HOP are still running now; I always looked at Beeston as the big HOP show for the month. Almost the PPV equivalent, big matches paid off here for a while, and the crowd were fucking HOT all night, every night. It was such a brill venue to wrestle in.
The match with Kingsley was a big one. We talked over a few set pieces, and Stixx gave us the finish, which I think was a tad overbooked, but could have looked great if everything went to plan.
As an aside, before the show began, I handed back my Real Deal Wrestling championship belt, as the promotion had ceased running at this point. End of a small era there.
Anyhow, the show started, and I couldn’t tell you a thing about the undercard. Usually I’d watch as much of the show as I could, but I think I watched the opener, and that was a bout it. I needed to get my head in the game. In contrast, I can remember this match almost hold for hold, despite never watching it back (I don’t even think it was recorded at all, which always left me feeling abit sad). Plenty of photos though, which has kept the events of the match fresh in my mind.
We started out babyface v babyface, bit of chain wrestling, some back and forth, with Kingsley taking the role as the aggressor in the early exchanges. We steadily picked up the pace, and moves got more impactful. It was mid-July and the venue was hot and sweaty, I felt like this added to the moment, as I felt as good as I ever had. I’d been preparing myself for the main event opportunities, because I really wanted to make them count. I wanted to prove to myself that I could engage an audience, that had seen EVERYTHING done throughout the duration of a match card. I loved this match, we worked hard. And then the opportunity came. The referee got in between us, and got squished. Kingsley was in the ascendancy at this point, but suddenly, Hellbound stormed the ring and laid out Kingsley. Barricade raised the belt as if he were about to paste me with it, until HD Tyler ran in and kicked Barri, which left the belt in the ring. It was a little early in the context of the story, as we really wanted to milk the moment, and give the impression that Hellbound were just there to ruin the match. We wanted to clearly show who brough the belt into the ring, and how they were going to use it – the jumping of the gun on the run-in may have slightly taken that away, but maybe that was just me overthinking it. Anyhow, the ring cleared leaving myself and Kingo in the ring – we let the fuss die down everso slightly, as I crawled to my knees, and saw the belt in the ring. I stared at it, and I went to pick it up. I faced away from Kingsley, holding the belt, and considered hitting him with it. I didn’t and put it down in the corner… As I turned, Kingsley was there with a kick and his one winged angel finisher, which put me down, but there was no referee. After around a minute, or an eternity in my mind, a new ref ran in from the back to count the fall. He counted 1 – 2 – 2 and a half… kicked out! As the hand was coming down for the three, my shoulder popped up to stay in the match. An exhausted Kingsley stared in disbelief, as I lay motionless for what felt like forever. He had to put me away, so he rose up, looking for a second one winged angel. He hoisted me up, and I managed to slip down his back, and threw him backwards with my big ol’ saito suplex. I had breathing space. The new ref was checking of the still downed original referee, and I saw an opening.
The House of Pain Heavyweight Championship belt was in the corner next to me, Kyle Kingsley was slowly rising to his feet, exhausted and looking to end the match.
Somebody had to lose, and for once I wasn’t going to let it be me. I grabbed the belt, and cracked Kingsley round the head with it, as he turned away, reeling from the shot, I threw the belt back into the corner, and grabbed him by the leg, and then the waist, for the cross legged German suplex. I threw the heavier Kyle Kingsley with all of my remaining strength, over my head, keeping a tight grip. I held a bridge, his shoulders smashed and glued into the mat. The referee counted, what felt like the longest 3 count in the history of forever, but as that third slap of the mat rang through my ears, I had finally achieved it. I was a champion in House Of Pain.
Years of being the nearly-man, the final boss, the one who didn’t need it, I was THE man. I had finally become a champion in my home promotion.
I felt great. The crowd fucking hated me now though.
For some people, winning the main belt in the shows adjacent to their training school isn’t so much of a bit deal. For me it was, because I could see the direction that House of Pain was heading in, and I was in a good position to help push it forward.
The first defence was in a new venue for me, Rainworth in Mansfield. This was the only time I wrestled here. Not quite sure why. Anyway, a match against BFD. Now, BFD was a lad who was one of those that always just worked really fucking hard in training. He used to always come to my classes where we would run a lot of the Japanese drills. I mainly used these classes to keep myself up to scratch with all of the shit that I learned in Gatoh Move and other places in Japan. There would always be a small number in attendance, because we used to really push people. Of all the classes I ever ran, I think BFD only ever missed 2. I respected that. At the time, I think Beefy would admit it, he was still figuring himself out. He’d not long gone it alone having almost always been a tag wrestler. He was looking for inspiration, and to develop, and this seemed like a good opportunity to push him. He gave me a few ideas, and I wanted to break them up and prolong his spots, just to give him another perspective. We had a fairly decent match I thought. It was the right match to have had for his experience and confidence at the time, and to be honest, I’d have liked to worked him again a few months later to see the change in him. Beef was a steady hand, not spectacular, but he never needed to be. It worked for him.
The next month would see me team up with Hellbound to take on Kingo, Lucas Archer and Tommy Taylor. This is still one of my favourite matches, mostly because of the aftermath, and the pure anger and heat we felt from the audience. Post-match we beat up Taylor, Archer and Kingsley, with chains, chairs, fists. Whatever. We tied Kingsley to the ropes and battered him, leaving the ring in tatters. The audience hated us. I loved it. I described the feeling of that evening a couple of years later to Thorne as “the room was dripping with heat”. I felt that a pairing with Hellbound could’ve been a great and natural direction to head in, but we never really did much else together again, which I still feel is a bit of a shame and a missed opportunity.
A first defence was a bit of an off the record match with Eddie Martins ,at an outdoor show on the August Bank Holiday. I was supposed to have flown to Thailand that weekend, but didn’t go, so I let Stixx know I was available. I’d never wrestled a match outdoors, and was one of those odd little things I wanted to tick off. The match was OK, but it didn’t need to be a Wrestlemania special. I think if I’m honest, Martins was one of the most boring wrestlers I’d ever faced, and I didn’t really want to wrestle him again. I did, however, a few weeks later in Calverton, in a championship match. It was slightly better than the outdoor match, but until I looked back at my notes, I’d completely forgotten about what happened in the match. By boring, I mean that I really couldn’t get much out of him. When I asked what he was, character wise, he was ‘just a nice guy’. I asked about his moveset, and it was quite ‘meat and potatoes’. I could work with it, but he needed to fill in the gaps in between, which he did with a few generic “c’mon’ shouts. I know my ‘assessment’ may come across as a bit harsh, if I’m honest, I didn’t particularly like the guy behind the Eddy Martins gimmick, so I didn’t have a lot of interest in pushing him to think about his stuff, if he couldn’t be bothered to either. Get in, get out.
I’d wrestled people who were unsure or still learning about who they were plenty of times, and I would have patience or ideas for them, to help bring them on or give them a different way of thinking about things, because they were receptive to ideas. I didn’t find that to be the case with this particular person.
Kingo and I would meet again, in his scheduled rematch. I honestly don’t remember this one so much, no matter how hard I stare at the notes in my book. The result reads as I won, but that was it. Sorry Kingo.
I think the next match I’m going to talk about is where I really started to feel sour about having the belt, and how I felt the “he doesn’t need it” started to creep back in. It probably wasn’t the intention of the way the match was booked, but its how I felt at the time.
I was booked in a match against ‘Ritmo’ who was the Full Throttle champion at the time, I’ll state here, I fucking loved wrestling Ritmo, always easy work, and a shedload of fun to go with it.
A champion vs champion match was booked for the last show of the year. Ritmo and I had a brief discussion at training a week or so before and threw a few cool ideas out, and knew we could put some good shit together to give him a good run in the match, I loved bumping for a lot of his moves so wanted him to throw plenty of hurricanranas. Anyway, we rock up to the show, we’re on first. OK, there was a rumble main event, so I get that. Dunno, just seemed an odd match to ‘waste’. Still, we knew we could go out and warm the crowd up and set the show off on a fast paced and exciting footing.
Oh by the way, Ritmo was winning. Even he was asking why. I was pretty gobsmacked. I knew a rough plan of who was taking the belt in the new year, and I’d hoped to keep the belt ‘strong’ for him. But no. It was quite rare for the result of a match to really piss me off, but this did.
I did however have a j.o.b to do, and I was going to go and fucking do it. Me pissed off would go one of two ways, I’d either shit the bed, or I be determined to have the best match of the show – I liked Ritmo, so I wasn’t going to shit on him.
We went out and had a fucking good match and if I do say so myself, we pissed all over the rest of the card. I had a bit of a post-match debrief with Ritmo after the match, and I packed up ready to go real quick. I was fucked off.
The end of a year I’d been hoping for, ended on a shit note. Fucking grand..(!)
Chapter 42 – A Sharpe Change
The annual PW4U review, the home away from home. We set out in 2017, with a loose plan to finally get the G6 championship on to someone else. That someone was to be Rob Sharpe.
We’d set the table with the tag run in the previous year, and we started the year with what would turn out to be the last tag title match, against The Barmy Army, Noah and Matthew Brookes.
I really wanted to get people on Rob’s side, so I was a right bastard to him on the way to the ring. I still wouldn’t let him carry one of the tag belts, and I still made him carry me to the ring. I’ll say, this was as much Rob’s idea as it was mine, he loved it and really played the victim well, his facial expressions were perfect. His role as the disrespected ‘student’ was brilliant, and he worked really hard to get audiences on his side.
During the match, I think Rob and I were as cohesive as we ever were, we had a couple tag spots we’d used, so obviously, this was where we lost the tag belts and imploded. Rob took the fall, we let The Barmy Army have the floor to celebrate, we waited for things to die down, and I really laid into Rob, ending up with me slapping him across the face. We didn’t plan any of it, but it felt right in the moment, and Rob seemed to know what was coming, he sold it beautifully, and the crowd saw enough to get behind him. I scarpered, and he chased me backstage.
It set the table perfectly for us to leave the tag stuff behind, and split off into a singles program, in a couple of months time.
PW4U was looking to expand a little bit over the next little while, and Phil the promoter tried a few new venues locally over the next few months. First up was Bradwell, in Newcastle-Under-Lyme. This was not the best venue. Low ceiling and a very tight backstage area. A few on the card were a bit grumpy with the low ceiling, but to be honest, I never felt like low ceilings were ever really in issue in wrestling. If you’re well rounded, you should be comfortable, and I’d like to think I was fairly well rounded by now. I wrestled Ry Lloyd here, a young lad that Phil was quite high on. Shitty gear aside, I could see it, so I wanted to push him here. We were the opening match, new crowd, so we did a bit more crowd interaction than I usually would’ve done, as we really wanted to get them invested in the show.
I think we had a good light hearted, but fast paced and competitive match, which set the tone for everyone else to follow us.
Oh, this was also the show where I threw an orange at the at-the-time-heavily-pregnant ring announcer Kim Roxx. Soz Kim haha – I was throwing it to her in all fairness. She just didn’t see it until it bounced off of her…
Next, we were into what was intended to be the opening match of the Rob Sharpe feud. The idea here was going to be that he would come out hot, beat the piss out of me for a few minutes, and then I’d snatch a win. Crowd felt hot for this, and Rob looked fantastic, bouncing me around all over the place, throwing me around like a sack of shit, looking fiery and strong.
Just as he was about to put the contest away, I snatched the win with a rope holding small package. The crowd fucking hated me, and we left with them exactly where we wanted them, ready for a return.
Now, the plan was to crown Rob in our next match, and he’d take the belt forward. Unfortunately, that never came to fruition. Rob never came back to PW4U, I believe that he and Phil didn’t see eye to eye on a couple of things, and they decided it was for the best that they part ways. I was absolutely gutted. We’d worked hard for around a year to build to this point, and I was so ready to give the belt up. We’d finally found someone that the audience cared about, and hated me enough, for this to be the perfect time to pull the trigger. It had taken us so long to find that perfect babyface. Rob was that. Back to the drawing board…
The next show, we all agree was a bit of a throwaway match, a singles match vs Noah. It was OK, but nothing special. This was a bit last minute, as this was the show where we were intending to drop the G6 belt. We were still looking for that babyface.
The next attempt to find the right person was in the last show of the year, in a three way match. I’ve said it before, and reiterate it here, this I felt was my favourite G6 match of the whole run. I think it was the perfect showcase for what we wanted the division to be. I’d also argue, that this 6-8 month period was the peak of the G6 era (the title has now been retired – I still need to go fetch it from Phil…)
The match was a 3-way, with myself, Ry Lloyd and Alex ‘Pyro’ Bowers. Whenever I took part in multiperson matches, I wanted them to have a continuous flow. I hated having people laying around, waiting for their cues. We kept this moving, and quick. In and out, I think we had 30-45 second crossovers each, and the match flew by, noone looked shit and I think captured the essence of the belt. Anyway, I won… Still carrying the belt into 2018! As someone once said to me, “theres no reason you should ever lose that belt”. It was starting to feel like that, but I felt like it was starting to mean less.
Chapter 43 – A New Hope?
2017 was a weird year for HOPE wrestling. . The promotor/owner Dale had also taken over LCW in Leicester, and as much as I liked what he’d done with HOPE in Mansfield and a bit further afield, I really hated what happened with LCW in the end.
Eventully, the Brockington College venue was lost/replaced for Working Mens Clubs, and lost a lot of the audience, as only a small number would follow LCW there. The Brockington venue was brilliant, and always had a bit feel, especially with the bleachers around the ‘pit’.
I felt like a lot of the, for want of a better word, ‘quality control’ that the previous ownership had, was not at the same standard, and a lot of the Leicester fan favourites either didn’t want to come back or were phased out. A lot of those people had their own issues with Dale, I’ll again say, I never really had any such issues with him. We’ve always been fairly honest with each other if theres been an issue.
Eventually, the LCW name was dropped, and rebranded as HOPE Leicester. I always thought that this was a bad move.
With all that being said, I had 2 matches for him over the year, and both are fairly notable for me enough to give HOPE a section here.
in April, I appeared in Mansfield for what would be the last time, taking on Jake McCluskey in the opening match. McCluskey was a bit of a name, and held the LCW championship, so this was for the belt. Cool. I was really up for this, as I saw this as an opportunity to gauge where I was in terms of my ability to hang with what I’d have called at the time an mid-upper indy guy. I thought we had a decent match. Jake was solid, all his stuff was clear, concise and easy for the audience to follow. They cared for him, and were indifferent to me. I think indifferent to me as I was nowhere near a regular for HOPE, and that audience had changed a fair bit since my last visit. He was really giving in the match, and gave me a lot of offence, and in return I did my best to be where he needed me to be, and I sold my arse off for him. I let him kick out of the leggy German too…
I got a good slice of feedback from him, which I was grateful for. I didn’t have long to stick around, as I had a second show to head to. Decent evenings business.
The next month I would be invited to Leicester, for what would be my last time wrestling at the college. The HOPE v LCW ‘war’ was hitting its stride and I was back to represent LCW against ‘Tivy Lee’, representing HOPE, but the Southern/MK branch. This was the first time I’d ever wrestled in Leicester as a babyface, and christ, I loved it. Kids surrounding the entrance ramp, high fives, the lot. I made sure to savour it, after years of being booed in this building.
He was OK for his experience at the time, and I think we had a decent match. Again I tried to be giving, and help bring this younger talent up a bit.
What was of note of this match was that apparently during the match, he dislocated/broke his shoulder. I didn’t know until later that week, after posting a photo, and someone commenting on it, saying he’d broken his shoulder. Fuck. I felt shit, and deleted the photo. He never told me he was in pain at any point during, or after the match, or at any point whilst I was with him. The lesson I’d like anyone to take from this match, is that please, if you get hurt during a match, tell your opponent, or the referee. They will look after you, end the match or work around your injury, get you through safely and minimize any further damage. Something I always did during a match was talk. After a big bump, or a dive, I’d ask if they were ok, or grab their hand for a squeeze. Squeeze back, I know you’re ok.
Bit of a shit way to end what I thought was a decent match.
I really wish LCW would’ve been able to thrive naturally, as it had been doing over the last 2/3 years. Theres nothing wrong with a new direction, but I don’t think its something you can do whilst running something else. That second promotion is always going to be second best.
Thanks for the memories and experiences.
Chapter 44 – Bigger Isn’t Always Better
Having won the HOP belt had presented a few more opportunities around the country, and again Southside came calling. I hadn’t enjoyed any previous experience with SWE if I was honest with myself, but I wanted to make a go of it home in the UK, so I took a few bookings from them.
The first opportunity was one I actually quite enjoyed. We were wrestling in the Ruschliffe arena in Nottingham, great opportunity to work in front of something of a partisan crowd. It was an afternoon show, so not a full capacity, but it was still fairly busy. I was in a 4-way match (Southside was notorious for overbooking shows), against Chris Tyler, TNA wrestler Kaleb Conley (he was doing the Suicide gimmick on the evening show) and female wrestler Lana Austin. I knew Chris and I could do some good stuff, I hoped Kaleb would bring some ideas to the table, with his ‘X-Division’ experience, and I was comfortable with Lana to be her base for loads of her moves.
The match started a bit weird, with the story being how nobody wanted to wrestle the woman, but she got into it. It was a tad awkward, and I think Kaleb’s idea. His multi-person spots were pretty spot on though, and we got through an action packed match, where really I just tried to base for everyone and take all of their moves. It was fun I thought,
A couple of months later I was booked in a 8 man tag (overbooking) against the heel faction GBH, along with HOP folk Gabe Kidd, Visage, and the odd man out Johnny Concrete.
I like Conk, but I never really enjoyed being in big multi-man matches with him, because I felt like matches would slow down so that we could get the comedic spots in. His characters strengths were in singles or tag matches where his spots had room to breathe and sink in, and he needed a couple of ‘straight faced’ people to play off. I didn’t think the Baywatch schtick worked on an indy like SWE, because of the volume of people in ALL of the matches, and time often being squeezed.
Anyway, we did the j.o.b, I can’t remember a great deal about this match if I’m honest. I can however remember our involvement in the main event, which was a street fight Joseph Conners and Ligero against a couple of the other GBH lads. We all joined in, we had a fight outside, and then we came back in, and tried to throw Big Grizz through a table. Multiple times. So many that we got on Botchamania. Fun.
Billy Gunn was on the show and I made sure to try and get some pointers from him, which were really useful.
The last Southside show I was on, really left me sour on SWE and bigger British indies as a whole. We were on the ‘7 Year Anniversary Show’, and the roster was ridiculous. As in the number of people backstage – 33 wrestlers – our match alone had TEN.
Eight of those were imports, who I can’t imagine were cheap. The promotor posted on facebook that there was an attendance of over 900.
So yeah, our match, a ten man elimination tag match – and we had 10 minutes. It’ll take me longer to write about it. Myself, Gabe Kidd, Visage, Lucas Archer and Visage vs GBH .I think Gabe won it, with some help from Abyss. My part of the match was to have about 30 seconds of offence, get cut off, take the tag team finish. Great. I’d been presented as the HOP champion, but Christ, I couldn’t have looked any less than. I can’t have had more than 2 1/2 minutes of ring time.
I made sure to get some good photos backstage, so that I’d get something out of it.
Here’s what really soured me on ever wanting to do an SWE show ever again; I was the only one who’d been on the show who helped tear down the ring. I was also that last to be paid. And I was only paid £30 (my wage hadn’t been £30 for some time). I was so gobsmacked, I said nothing, I just fumed quietly and decided I never wanted to come back. And I didn’t. Ever.
I feel like my experience comes across as bitter, maybe there is an element of that, but I think the overriding feeling is just disappointment. I had 5 matches over the course of my pro wrestling career, and I had one match/show that I actually felt as though I was able to show what I could do. Every other one, I can’t understand what the point of the match was, let alone my involvement was for. The guys that did well for SWE were generally the ones that were invested in early in the company’s growth. I could only really name a handful of later arrivals that did well. Some people probably had a great experience working for Southside Wrestling, mine was unfortunately, very disappointing.
Chapter 45 – A Change of Priorities
2017 in my mind felt like something of a failure, by the end of the year. Yes, I’d achieved another goal in winning the House Of Pain Heavyweight Championship, but I didn’t feel like it was going well. I’ll recognise here, I absolutely should have been talking to Stixx more with concerns, and ideas, but I didn’t.
My experiences with ‘larger’ companies weren’t great, and I wondered what I needed to do, to level up, and stop being in this weird ‘limbo’, of feeling like I was good at pro wrestling, but not quite good enough to make that next step. I couldn’t put my finger on what was missing, and I was getting frustrated. I was tired of not feeling good enough.
I felt like I needed a break. Mentally I was really struggling. My relationship was on its arse, and we were drifting apart. I needed to put some attention on it.
I felt massively as though my weekends wrestling was beginning to affect my relationship with my two boys as well.
And finally, it was time to stop pursuing being a wrestler full time. I needed to get back into full-time work, because money was becoming an issue. Back end of November I got back into work, and started prioritising earning again. Wrestling was still there, but it began to not be the be all and end all. Everything just sort of came to a head for me, and I had to get on top of everything.
I’d decided I was going to take a break in 2018. I had commitments to fulfil, and I would let them come to a natural conclusion, and after that, it was time to stop. Either for a while, or just fullstop.
But then I received a booking enquiry. Kazuhiro Tamura of Heat-Up Wrestling in Japan. He wanted me to go over again. I was conflicted, but fuck it. If I was going to finish, my God, one more Japan trip was the perfect way to go out.
I’d better get ready then…
Juken Pro Wrestler 