I
can’t do my whole recap right now because I had to go home and go
straight to bed rather than uploading my pictures. Getting home at 1
AM and having to get up at 3:30 AM doesn’t leave a whole lot of
room for such things.
But
I do want to get some initial thoughts down about last night because
it was an incredible night and also because this is the first time I
have ever written about a wrestling event the day after it happened.
I am extremely tired right now, as it is 7:19 in the morning and I
have had about two hours of sleep in the last twenty-eight hours.
We’ll see how this goes. The really awesome part is that I have
five days worth of Halloween posts to finish and polish up after I do
this. I think the first week of 31 Days of Halloween is going to be
pretty terrible. Of course, we’ll know by the time this posts.
The
actual venue in Porterdale is great. The hall is a bit narrow, but
that just meant I was extra-close to the ring and able to get some
great pictures of Kyle Matthews’ Fancy Booty for Lori. Otherwise
it’s a good size (and I mean that in a good way, not the way ladies
mean about a penis) and a very cool setup. Despite the fact that I’ve
watched a ton of video of matches from there, I never quite grasped
the way the place was.
Imagine
a GameStop with a really high ceiling that was wide enough for a
wrestling ring with about five feet on either side. You walk in the
front door and the ring is about twenty feet back. There’s another
thirty feet or so on the other side of the ring. Toward that back
side on the right is the curtain where the wrestlers come out and
beyond that is a table where Jonathan Williams, Larry Goodman (I am
assuming here – I have never met Mr. Goodman, but there was a guy
diligently notating everything), and Matt Hankins are set up to do
their thing. I was going to sit back there and take part, but I just
couldn’t be that far away from the action.
But
before I get too far into that, I just want to mention how awesome
every single person I talked to was. Before I entered the venue I
spoke to some of the Porterdaliens. Now, I take wearing the mask sort
of semi-seriously. Like, if I’m going to wear it I am going to keep
it on. So I arrived beside The Main Event – the venue where Sacred
Ground III took place – and had a couple of adult beverages. Then I
put the mask on out in the parking lot. I figure if you’re in the
general vicinity of a wrestling show people are going to expect that
sort of thing. But I had never been to Porterdale before and I wasn’t
too sure if people might want to hit me with sticks or something. You
never know. But quite the opposite happened. People knew
me.
I’ve
mentioned before that it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy when people
know my work; particularly complete strangers. So it was just crazy
to be in this utterly foreign place and not only have people know
Needless Things, but to have them inviting me to cookouts and
offering their couches up for future Porterdale trips. And it’s not
because I’m all super-awesome or anything; these people were just
great.
Once
we got to the ticket guy I explained that I had bought the cheap-o
ticket because I hadn’t even been sure I would get there in time to
take advantage of the whole premium seating deal.
I
can’t remember if I explained this in older posts or not, but there
were $10 tickets and $20 tickets. The cheap ones get you in the door
and then you’re on your own. But for ten dollars more you got a
shirt and “Premium Seating”, meaning you got to pick your seat
early.
So
I asked the ticket fella if I could give him ten bucks and upgrade
and he said no problem. I spoke to that guy a couple of times over
the course of the evening and he was a very nice guy. So anyway, I
decided I wanted the best seat possible and of
course
I wanted a shirt. Though I did not, in fact, get a shirt. There was
some kind of weird confusion that I still don’t quite understand
but I have faith I’ll be able to get my hands on one.
We
got inside to this sort of waiting corral and I spied the ring
through a side door. Jonathan Williams had previously asked if I
wanted to do a little commentary on his live broadcast of the show
and of course I did. Any opportunity to run my mouth. I spoke to him
briefly before entering the corral and he said to come by his table
beside the entrance area. So I stood in the corral and thought to
myself, “Well, he didn’t say when.
Maybe he meant now. I could just go in now. Sure. They’re not
letting people in, but he said to come by the table.”
Let
me explain what was going on my head.
I
don’t ever presume. Or want to intrude. Or try to take any kind of
advantage in any way. I don’t ever want to be the guy who goes
shoving his way into somewhere whether he is wanted or not. I know
some people who do this kind of thing and are, quite frankly, very
good at it. They don’t ever seem to feel unwanted and actually
don’t ever seem to be
unwanted. They stroll right into any situation like they belong there
and it works for them. But I just can’t do that.
Maybe
because I’m 6’4” and wearing a purple wrestling mask.
But
last night I felt different about it. I don’t ever
do anything that might interfere in any way with work. I do not go
out on nights when I have to work the next day. I can’t. I get up
at 3:30 in the morning. It’s fucking ridiculous. It does not matter
how early you go to bed, humans simply were not meant to be waking up
at that time. But I get home around 6:45, eat dinner, and am in bed
by 9:00. This is all totally against my nature because left to my own
devices I stay up until 4 AM, but you do what you have to do to keep
the paychecks coming.
So
anyway, it was a very big deal for me to be out in the midst of three
consecutive shifts. And I was damn well going to make the most of it.
So I went on in.
The
first person I ran into was Hayden Young. He was pumped. I had
already picked up the Porterdaliens’ enthusiasm via the equivalent
of a contact high, but talking to Young got me more excited. He told
me there were eleven matches and was clearly excited about the night.
Chuck
Porterfield is a phenomena in the town of Porterdale. There were
people in Chuck t-shirts. I could just imagine the guy rolling into
town in the Chuck Wagon with all the Chuckamaniacs running wild in
the streets.
Sorry,
I just really wanted to use “Chuck Wagon”.
Chuck
greeted me after that and then somebody tapped me on the shoulder or
grabbed my arm or something and it was Rick Michaels.
This
guy was once part of The Exotic Ones, the tag team that was so damned
good that they were not only a big part of the reason I now follow
PCW, but also inspired me to buy the first indie wrestling t-shirt I
ever owned (DCW doesn’t count – that’s kind of not really indie
wrestling).
Rick
told me he had read my previous post about PCW
and that it meant a whole lot to him for me to have said the things I
did about his matches. He thanked me for it and shook my hand, then
pulled me into a hug. The guy clearly meant what he was saying and I
almost got a little misty. To have anything I’ve done mean anything
to somebody is pretty awesome, particularly somebody in a profession
I admire so much. I thanked him in return and told him how much I
appreciated what he does.
I
spoke with photographer extraordinaire Harold Jay Taylor next –
while trying not to stare enviously at his camera – and he filled
me in on Porterdale and how shows were there and whatever. I strongly
feel he’s going to need to write a history of PCW one day, because
that guy has a
lot
of information.
And
then Stephen Platinum walked over.
I
like to think I’m pretty honest. I try not to heap undue praise on
anybody and I certainly don’t ever want to ever come off like I’m
just sucking up to anyone.
I
think anybody that has had a conversation with Platinum would agree
that he has a certain presence. This aura of enthusiasm that just
makes him exciting to talk to. It’s like he rolled a D20 when he
was born and got a +18 charisma. You want
to talk to the guy and when he wants to talk to you, you listen. I
can see why the PCW talent grows the way they do.
So
we chatted for a minute and I said absolutely nothing significant.
Actually,
I’d like everybody to know something – Saturday night was a huge
deal for me. Between the big event atmosphere, the incredible
enthusiasm of the Porterdaliens, the warm reception from the PCW crew
I spoke with, and the fact that I had been up for around twenty hours
by the time the show was over I was pretty much high as a kite the
whole time. So if I spoke to you and seemed like I might be kind of
an idiot, that was why. I mean, I am
kind of an idiot, but I can usually carry on better conversations
than I managed last night. Also it was really loud in the Porterdale
Wrestling Arena.
While
I’m speaking about not gushing over anybody too much, I’d like to
mention how glad I was to see the announcer from the Academy Theater
– Mort, I think? That guy is awesome. Next time you go to a
wrestling show, try to really watch the ring announcer and see just
how much he contributes to the show. There’s a lot going on there
that I bet most people don’t even notice.
I
said hello to a couple more people and then went back to Jonathan and
company’s table to speak with Team All-You-Can-Eat. All of the
other people that weren’t big assholes that just walked in the door
semi-uninvited started filing in at that point and I decided I had
better get a seat. Fortunately there was an empty right in front of
one of the ringposts. I asked one of the Porterdaliens I had been
talking to before if it was taken and he enthusiastically invited me
to have a seat. I believe Pandora’s family was on the other side of
me.
Side
Note: Okay, from here on out everything is being written a few days
later and I am slightly more coherent than I was the day after Sacred
Ground III. I had intended to get some thoughts down about each
match, but it just didn’t happen so you get the full deal now. I
had also intended to post the above stuff as its own thing, but that
didn’t happen either so you now get eighty thousand-plus words all
in one shot.
Stephen
Platinum came out to welcome everybody to Sacred Ground III and to
point out the fact that there were eleven matches scheduled and that,
yes, eleven matches seems like an awful lot but they will be worth
your while. He said he had no idea when it would all be over, but
that the Main Event was the biggest thing ever in the history of Our
Great Sport and we should all really stick around for it. Then this happened:
Then
the Empire came out with Jeff G. Bailey in the lead and the Freemans
looking like they were dressed up for their Sears Christmas portrait.
I can’t actually say anything about Jonathan Malick because he
looked fairly normal compared to his Empire allies. Naturally Jeff G.
Bailey had to present a counterpoint to Stephen Platinum’s
energetic, enthusiastic endorsement of the evening’s event.
“Blah,
blah, blah, Empire. Blah, blah, blah, Shane Marx.”
And
on like that for quite some time. It’s no wonder the damn thing
didn’t end until after midnight.
Platinum
Royal
The
winner of this match earned a shot at whichever title remained after
the Main Event.
Empire
Upper Management stayed in the ring to welcome all of Team Empire
out. And then something really confusing happened.
Dwight
Power was the first guy out. I was happy to see him, as he has the
funniest name in all of professional wrestling. But then “Showtime”
Erik Jones came out. And Big Masked Guy. And Master Jae. And
“Dynamite Soul” Eric Walker. And Fifth Column, who may or may not
have wrestled more than anybody else that night. But that’s neither
here nor there.
Shouldn’t
a certain number of Empire guys (four, possibly five depending on
Fifth Columns ethnicity; though I’m thinking not) had a pretty big
problem with one of their supposed teammates? And doesn’t standing
in a ring with four black fellows while being named “Dwight Power”
qualify you as either having the biggest balls on the planet or
being the dumbest motherfucker on the planet?
But
then it occurred to me – Dwight Power’s name isn’t actually any
kind of play on “White Power”. He is quite literally promoting
“Dwight Power” – the natural, inborn superiority of people
named “Dwight”. If I knew for sure he was going to be at the next
Porterdale show I’d make a sign with Dwights Schulz, Eisenhower,
Yokum, and I guess I’d have to research more. But I’d put those
pictures on it and write “Power” underneath.
Sorry
– that was stupid.
Next
out was “Marvelous” Marko Polo and Crown Jewel Records, which
apparently now consists of about eighty-three people, two of whom
carried The Marvelous One to the ring on their shoulders. That was
kinda fantastic, but would have been better if they’d actually had
a sedan chair like Tupac in the “All Around the World” video.
I
will take any excuse I can to reference that song.
Out
of that whole crew, only Polo and “Mr. Pump Yo Brakes” Steve Goins
were actually in the match. Honestly, they could have just had a
Crown Jewels Royal.
Next
out was Johnny DANGAAAAAAAA! and then I decided I maybe didn’t want
to use up my camera battery taking pictures of every single person
entering the Platinum Royal, then I had
to take a picture of Lee Roy because he was Shredder:
Sylar
Cross hit next, then Tommy (Daniels), The Witness, and then…
Vandal!
I’m not sure why he’s been out for so long, but he has. Good to
see this guy back in action. Dude got a big response.
And
action it was, as things started immediately.
I
don’t know how anybody could possibly recap a battle royal very
well. I know this was the one match where my proximity to the ring
worked against me. Lee Roy and Dwight Power were the first eliminated
and one of the referees had to physically eject Power from the
ringside area. Master Jae went out at one point, followed by a
perturbed Mr. Pump Yo Brakes.
The
endgame started when it came down to Fifth Column, Sylar Cross, Erik
Jones, and Marko Polo. Fifth Column did a lot of standing around and
watching until Polo and Jones got near the ropes, then he took the
opportunity to dump both men over, eliminating them. And then Fifth
Column realized he had just left himself alone in the ring with the
Human Stampede, Sylar Cross (that’s not really his nickname – I
just thought it sounded appropriate).
Cross got fired up and was
unleashing some red and yellow fury on the mystery member of Empire
until that dirty little ass weasel Jonathan Malick stepped up onto
the apron. Cross was rightly enraged, but temporarily forgot about
his opponent. Fifth Column once again took advantage of a situation
and dumped Sylar over the ropes, winning the Platinum Royal and a
title shot!
YOUR
WINNER – The Fifth Column
I
fully expected Fifth Column to unmask and reveal his identity (Hayden
Young is my guess, but who knows if that’s who it really was or if
that person is who it will end up being or if we’ll ever even find
out). He didn’t.
“The
Attraction” Hayden Young
Vs.
“Do
Or Die” Chip Day
This
match had so much stank on it you couldn’t clean it up with a whole
tub of Handi-Wipes. Young and Day used to be tag partners. Young
started to get a little heelish and Day didn’t like it. Young
turned on Day and became possibly my favorite douchebag in wrestling.
Which is tough for me, because Chip Motherfucking Day is awesome. I
definitely wanted to see Young get his ass handed to him, but I knew
that wasn’t likely because Chip Day is not in the habit of winning
matches.
The
Attraction started off by delivering a hard slap to his opponent. Day
shrugged it off and sort of smiled, then the punches started flying
back and forth. Young took control early on and kept it. Like, to the
point where I almost believed Day might win. Not really, but almost.
If you don’t follow wrestling… well, you’re probably not
reading this. But usually when somebody is getting their ass beat
really bad in the beginning of a match, there’s a better than
average chance they’ll come back and win.
Day
finally turned the tables by avoiding Young’s signature corner
clothesline. He slipped out of the way, leaving The Attraction hung
up in the ropes and then delivered a sick high kick as Young
recovered:
(I
really wish that picture was better)
Day
got off a couple more moves, but Young grounded him in the corner and
hit a fakey boot to the face, followed by a vicious actual boot to
the face. Things went back and forth after that, with neither man
gaining a clear advantage.
Young
went to the top rope only to be thrown off:
Then
Day landed a knee to the jaw:
After
a failed pin attempt Young got Day on the mat and hit a Frogsplash:
And
got the 1-2-3.
YOUR
WINNER – “The Attraction” Hayden Young
After
the match, Young made a big show of stalking the fallen Day. Finally,
he raised Day up and went to deliver what I thought was going to be a
low blow or a clothesline or maybe just a dirty cockpunch; but was
instead a handshake. Which I thought would turn into a DDT or a kick
to the testicles or a belly-to-belly suplex; but didn’t. It was
just a, “Good match, broseph,” handshake.
I
am very, very
disappointed in you, Hayden Young.
Washington
Bullets
Vs.
Daisho
PCW
Tag Team Season Semifinals
I
did not know this match was happening. And HOLY SHIT. The last time I
saw the Bullets face Daisho was at the Masquerade and the Bullets won
by count out. That shit wouldn’t be happening at the Big Show, so I
was stoked about this one.
I
didn’t put the camera down for this match, but I did have trouble
keeping up with taking pictures. It was really
fucking
good.
Vordell
Walker of Daisho started things off against Trey Williams of the
Bullets. And then I totally lost track of what was going on. Both of
these teams are at the top of their respective games and I honestly
wasn’t sure how this match was going to go. I went into Sacred
Ground fully expecting the Bullets’ promised “3peat” – they
had won the Tag Team Season Cup the previous two years and are
without a doubt the most capable tag team in PCW. But Kyle Matthews
and Vordell Walker are two of the toughest, best technicians I’ve
seen. I didn’t know they were a factor. It put a little doubt in my
mind about the Bullets’ chances.
There
were lots of tags in and out – particularly between Walker and
Matthews. Those two are masters of tag team psychology – they are
constantly tagging in and out and always seem capable of controlling
their opponents’ tags. The only way you are going to get out of the
ring if Daisho wants to keep you in there is by being faster or more
aggressive than them. And that’s a tall order.
But
the Bullets are like magic in that ring and managed to control the
match just as much as Daisho. The Williams brothers use teamwork like
Thor uses his hammer. It’s a weapon. No opportunity to weaken the
opponent is missed, no motion is wasted. So when the Bullets did get
away from Daisho’s control, they inflicted equal amounts of damage
to what they had just received.
The
action was non-stop. This was a tag match like no other I’ve seen.
You can almost always count on a “face in peril” beatdown.
Sometimes this hypes the crowd up, but if it isn’t executed
perfectly it can really bog a good match down. Not a concern with
this match. There was a brief period where Trey just couldn’t make
the tag, but it was still action-packed and featured none of the
punching then standing around and gloating that are trademarks of the
sequence.
Once
the elder Williams brother did get the tag he brought the fire. A
dropkick to Vordell Walker’s face broke up the submission hold the
Daisho member had been applying to Trey. From there both Bullets laid
into Daisho, finally hitting their trademark finish – the Marion
Barry – on Walker and getting the win!
YOUR
WINNER – The Washington Bullets
This
was an absolutely awesome tag team match – living up to every
expectation I had for Bullets vs. Daisho. The action never stopped
and it truly felt like either team could win throughout. After the
match, both teams exhibited for-real Good Sportsmanship and shook
hands and embraced. Then we went straight into the next Tag Team
Season match.
Brian
Blaze & Geter
Vs.
Corey
Hollis & Jacob Ashworth w/ Screamin’ Marty Freeman of Empire
PCW
Tag Team Season Semifinals
You
might think the tag matches should be split up. I did initially. Back
when I used to fantasy book the SmackDown
video games I did everything I could to avoid putting tag matches
back-to-back. But this match was a completely different animal from
the last match.
Obviously
Ashworth and Hollis are straight-up Lawful Evil. But Blaze and Geter
are Chaotic Neutral and that makes for a very interesting match,
particularly when you factor in the size of Geter and Ashworth. These
are two big men who can go. I was very interested in seeing that
clash happen.
So
naturally the match starts with Hollis facing off against Geter. I do
believe the whole room laughed for about three minutes straight.
Hollis made a show of finding a plan of attack. Then he got thrown
around the ring a whole bunch. He ended up tossed into the corner in
front of me at one point and I couldn’t help but yell, “C’mon
Corey! Go get him! You can do it!” He turned around and said, “I
know – just give me a second…”
Then
he tagged in Ashworth, who looked like he was going to make a go of
it. HE threw some clotheslines, went for a sort of spear, and even
went behind the big man for what could have been an attempted German
suplex (yes – really). Geter finally got sick of that nonsense and
tagged Blaze in.
Blaze
had the advantage for a while, throwing Ashworth into the corner and
punishing Hollis briefly. But then the Empire teamwork kicked in and
Blaze ended up outside at the mercy of Freeman and Ashworth while
Hollis distracted the ref and Geter. This time we did get the
extended Face In Peril sequence, but it worked. Geter was going
absolutely nuts trying to get the tag, but Ashworth and Hollis stayed
on Blaze and kept him away from his corner.
And
then Blaze German suplexed Hollis into the turnbuckles in front of me
and it was sick as fuck:
Both
men were down, but we all knew the Big Man was gonna get tagged in.
And he was; at the same time as Ashworth. Geter roared like an
enraged beast and just demolished the smaller – but still large –
man, finishing his assault with a massive back suplex. Hollis came
back in and once again provided a distraction. As Geter grabbed
Hollis - his huge hand almost encircling the man’s neck –
Ashworth came from behind and grabbed Ashworth in a Full Nelson. I
honestly thought he was going to try for a Dragon Suplex, but instead
he slammed Geter down on the mat, setting the big man up for a splash
from the top turnbuckle from Hollis.
But
something terrible must have happened to Hollis after that, because
the next shot I have is Blaze dropping a big elbow on him and then
Geter hitting Ashworth with a sidewalk slam and getting the pin.
YOUR
WINNERS – Geter & Brian Blaze
Things
just got a lot more interesting, as I don’t think I’ve ever seen
any combination of the Gorillaz/We Are 3 take on the Bullets. I could
be wrong, but even if I am that’s going to be a heck of a match.
While
Blaze and Geter celebrated inside the ring, it looked like Hollis and
Screamin’ Marty were giving Ashworth some shit for getting pinned.
I’m curious to see where that goes.
Rick
Michaels
Vs.
Simon
Sermon
Michaels
came out first to tremendous boos. He had some fancy new entrance
attire that I have to give the guy props for.
Then
Simon Sermon danced his way out of the back and paused for a moment
to boogie with Phantom Troublemaker:
(Thanks
to Crystal Anderson for capturing that magic moment – I owe you
one. I will refrain from making fun of your husband’s white jeans
for exactly 1 (one) recap.)
As
I said on Facebook shortly after – that was my Main Event.
This
is a match I never wanted to see.
As
I wrote on my ode
to PCW,
The Exotic Ones were my favorite tag team – in the indies or on TV
– from the time I first saw them at the Masquerade until the time I
stopped seeing them. I’m not sure when they disbanded or how it
happened – must have been before I was going to the Academy shows –
but the first time I saw evidence that they had broken up was a
couple of months ago when Rick Michaels came out to be a jerk to
Simon Sermon. It was one of the few times I was really crushed by
something that happened in wrestling.
I’m
not trying to sound like Mr. Knows The Business here, but I do tend
to be able to separate my base emotions from my enjoyment of the
sport. Yeah – I get into things and I like it when one of “My
Guys” wins. But I’m not usually so invested that things actually
disappoint me. But seeing Sermon and Michaels in conflict that night
bummed me out. For real. Especially coming out of nowhere.
And
then there’s the whole thing where I have to boo the guy who had
just said some really nice things to me not an hour ago.
But
whatever – fuck that prick. He turned his damn back on Simon Sermon
and I
want blood!
This
match was total old school all the way and I loved it. It reminded me
very much of the matches I’ve watched over and over again from my
Ric Flair, Dusty Rhodes, and old WCW DVDs. It was just two
tough-as-nails sumbitches beating each other up. It was suplexes,
elbows, and back-and-forth action the whole time.
Sermon
would work an arm, then Michaels would respond with a suplex.
Michaels would whip Sermon into a corner, but meet an elbow when he
charged in. It was exciting and hard-hitting.
Sadly,
my memory fails me and I cannot remember what move this was:
Could
be a superplex (but looks too far from the corner), could be a
swinging neckbreaker. But whatever the case, it won Simon Sermon the
match.
YOUR
WINNER – Simon Sermon
Afterwards
both men were on the mat. Sermon crawled over to Michaels and pleaded
with his former partner to end this feud; to bury the hatchet.
Michaels finally stood up and took the hand Sermon was offering. Yes!
The feud was over! Heck, We might even see a return of The Exotic
Ones!
Except
no, because that irredeemable jerkbag Rick Michaels delivered a
nutshot the second Simon turned his back. I was appalled. The referee
was appalled. All of Porterdale gasped in disgust.
Rick
Michaels, you despicable shitbag.
Christie
Whiplash
Vs.
Aisha
(perhaps no longer Sunshine)
Vs.
Nina
Monet
Vs.
Pandora
Last
Woman Standing Match
Interesting
to note that Ms. Monet was not carried to the ring in the same manner
that Marko Polo was. Might want to check your crew’s priorities,
ma’am. Just sayin’.
So
this match was pretty crazy-go-nuts right from the start. But we all
knew that would be the case. Platinum Championship Wrestling ladies
don’t have slapfights. They don’t pull each others’ hair and
mince around the ring. Rarely do you see any spankings. They tend to
fight harder and nastier than the men.
Pandora went after Monet and Aisha went after
Pandora. Then Whiplash came in and threw a bunch of elbows so
weak-looking they wouldn’t have blown the dust off of grandma’s
ass.
I
went into this unfamiliar with Ms. Whiplash but assuming she must be
pretty tough and pretty good to be taking part in PCW’s biggest
show pretty much ever. Don’t get me wrong – by the end of the
match she was doing well enough that I didn’t notice any flaws,
which means she must have been doing pretty darn good because those
elbows stank on ice.
After
the opening chaos, the ladies paired off for one-on-one beatdowns.
Monet went after Pandora and Aisha cornered Whiplash. The former two
ended up brawling outside the ring while Aisha dominated her
opponent. Then, while Aisha was distracted by Whiplash running
repeatedly into her knuckles and then falling down, Pandora jumped on
the Brawlin’ Banshee’s back and locked in a sleeper hold. But
Aisha threw herself into the corner and dislodged the wild woman.
Whiplash
tried to get back into the action, but Monet and Aisha teamed up on
her. They used a tandem suplex that knocked Whiplash out of the ring,
then the duo went to work on Pandora, repeating the tandem move.
Pandora
somehow regained control and took out Monet and Aisha with a bulldog
combination move out of the corner. Whiplash came back in and ate a
vicious DDT.
It looked like Pandora might win this thing, but all
three women made it to their feet and Pandora ended up outside on the
floor.
Apparently
a lot of action happened really fast after Pandora got her shit
together, because I don’t have any more pictures until the one
where she is atop the turnbuckles in victory:
YOUR
WINNER – Pandora
This
is what you expect out of a women’s PCW match. I’m still not sold
on Whiplash, but Aisha, Pandora, and Nina Monet delivered big time.
What a bunch of tough broads.
Casey
Kincaid
Vs.
“The
Sensational” Jay Fury
Vs.
Fred
Yehi
Platinum
Trinity Match
I
really feel like these guys should have action figures.
Anyway,
Casey Kincaid came out first and was introduced as “The Phantom”
Casey Kincaid. He had on a skull mask and a Misfits jacket and an
absolutely terrifying set of spikes strapped to his arm.
The
rules of the Platinum Trinity are that when you are pinned or submit
(yes – you “submit”, nobody “gets submitted”; that’s
stupid. They’re wrestlers, not fucking job applications. I hate it
when people say “got submitted”, you’re not protecting anybody
or putting anybody over, you’re just using poor and inaccurate
English. Thanks for that one, MMA.) you are out for two minutes. The
man that remains when both of his opponents are “out” is the
winner. I think this is a genius solution to the problems inherent in
a three-way match. Rather than having one guy look lazy, weak, or
dumb every few minutes so actual wrestling can happen, you give him a
reason to not be in the ring.
I
put the camera away for this one. I hope very strongly that there is
video of this match somewhere because I want you to see it. It was
without a doubt the match of the night. It was a technical
masterpiece. I enjoyed every second of it and these three men did not
waste one of those. Unfortunately, the fourth man did.
I
don’t typically talk too much about referees. They have a hard
fucking job that I couldn’t do any more than I could wrestle. And
what sucks about it is that if they’re doing their job right they
should not ever be noticed.
Side
Note: The one exception to this rule is Marc Hildebrandt, who is my
favorite referee of all time. But he is exactly that – the
exception that proves the rule.
Anyway,
I don’t talk about refs unless they become directly involved in
storylines, which I usually hate. I didn’t mind the recent Duke Korey thing because it made sense and helped Najasism look like an
even bigger prick heading into the Sacred Ground match.
But
the ref handling this match blew a couple of pretty big spots. There
was one in particular where I think it was Casey Kincaid that hit a
Northern Lights suplex and had Jay Fury pinned. I think it was even
supposed to be a three-count because they stayed there for a
while.
But the ref was facing the other way, daydreaming or something. Maybe
he was distracted by Mrs. Anderson’s shoes. I dunno. But all of a
sudden he turned around and was like, “Oh, shit!
I totally forgot I was refereeing a professional wrestling match!
What time is it? What day is it?” and then dropped and made the
count, but obviously Fury (or whoever it was) didn’t want to let
himself get pinned for a thirty count, so he kicked out.
I
think there were a couple of other referee boo-boos in that match.
Shit happens. I’m not trying to be a dick to the guy, but it messed
up what would otherwise have been a near-perfect match and I’d look
like an idiot if I didn’t mention it. Lord knows there are enough
other things calling me out on that one – I don’t need to add
another.
The
match ended when Fury had held a Crippler Crossface on Yehi for a
very long time. Kincaid had been out and as soon as his time was up
Yehi tapped. Kincaid ran in the ring and hit one of the
nastiest-looking dropkicks I’ve ever seen on Fury. Just knocked him
the fuck out. Kincaid pinned him and got the win.
YOUR
WINNER – Casey Kincaid
After
the match – which had been established as an athletic competition
and had no grudges or storylines involved – Kincaid and Yehi shook
hands (Fury was still out cold). But then Kincaid hit Yehi with a low
blow and something else, knocking him out of the ring. Kincaid then
went over to Fury, who was recovering and hadn’t seen any of that.
He picked Fury up, raised his hand, and then (I think) kicked him
square in the solar plexus. From there Kincaid went to the top
turnbuckle and delivered a Frogsplash Elbow – Fury’s own finish.
Kincaid
left the ring to the taunts and boos of the fans while Yehi crawled
back into the ring and was left to wonder why his former teammate had
turned into such a raging dickhead.
After
the match I finally ran over to the broadcast table to see if I could
get some quick commentary in on what had just happened. I got there
and Jonathan warned me that the audio was terrible. I made a few
brief comments and realized that my voice was already shot and also
that I couldn’t hear anything Jonathan was saying. Then the next
match started.
Najasism
Vs.
De
La Vega
Hair
Versus Hair Match
Aside
from the Main Event, this was the biggest storyline match on the card
for me. Vega and Naja have been upping the scale of their conflict
for the past couple of months to the point where it was going to take
something big to be a believable blowoff. This was that something
big. One of these men – who both have recognizable and signature
hairstyles – would lose their hair Saturday night.
I
watched the first portion of the match from the broadcast table, but
it very quickly became clear that both of these men were Bringing It
For Real and I had to return to my ringside seat.
I
got my camera back out just as Naja was being relieved of his
position on the high ground:
This
might have been the fastest-paced match of the night. There was very
little time to think as these two flew all over the ring, performing
feats ordinary men could not. Flying from turnbuckles, leaping over
ropes, and tremendous leaping kicks were all part of this brutal
dance.
Vega
ended up outside the ring at one point while Naja mocked his
signature entrance dance. But Vega (who was attired as the Street
Fighter
character) came back with a quick, mean spear and a series of
clotheslines.
Naja
regained control after a while and hit a couple of high-flying moves
from the top turnbuckle, as well as a solid big boot. He looked to be
holding onto the advantage until he charged toward De La Vega, who
was inert in the corner. But when Naja got there, Vega was gone. Vega
thought he had the advantage, but Najasism grabbed a hold of him and
slammed him into the ringpost. He then pulled his opponent onto the
apron and delivered what could have been a crippling piledriver:
One
more Frogsplash later and it was all over for De La Vega. And his
hair.
YOUR
WINNER – Najasism
Naja
wasted no time retrieving the Official Platinum Championship
Wrestling Scissors of Shame. He celebrated briefly, then set to
cutting off De La Vega’s locks and spreading them around the ring.
Doctor Melei and Stephen Platinum came out, followed by Sylar Cross
and I’ve got to tell you – that sold it for me. I thought
something might actually be wrong. Platinum has played this card
before, but it gets me every time. Doctor Melei appears to have about
as much medical training as my four year old son, but there’s just
something about those Official Paramedic Issue Converse All-Star
hit-tops that fools me every time.
Next
we had an intermission and I ran outside for a refreshing adult
beverage. I also took a moment to show my support for Sylar Cross by
purchasing one of his spiffy, new t-shirts. He didn’t have any
change and still owes me a dollar. But he’s one up on PCW, who
still owe me an entire shirt.
El
Asesino
Vs.
Devlin
Valek
Vs.
Grotesquecito
w/ Pandora
Vs.
The
Undead Luchador Supernatural
Let’s
just get this out of the way – that is one tiny fucking Grotesque.
Not only is Pandora taller, Supernatural almost is. Clearly Pandora
did not follow Grotesque’s cleaning instructions and washed him in
hot water rather than having him dry-cleaned. Silly Pandora. I would
also like to speculate that Grotesque Mini is Hayden Young. I would
also, also like to speculate that Hayden Young is actually Chuck
Porterfield and that the Chuck Porterfield behind the announce table
is Stephen Platinum and the Stephen Platinum that comes out to the
ring is a hologram like Tupac Shakur.
Sorry
– it’s the end of the day and I’m getting a little silly.
Asesino
came out first and had a Party City cape over his head to let
everybody know he was the bad guy. He should have had a Hurricane
Helms cape. It’s him under a hood, I’m telling you. Not really.
Devlin
Valek Satan-rocked his way out next. I wish I had an extra coat like
the one Pinhead form Hellraiser
wears because I feel like Valek needs one. Of course, I would have to
have one
coat like that in order to have an extra, so Valek’s entrance gear
may be a long time coming.
Grotesquecito
came out next and let’s be frank – this shit is just getting
ridiculous. Grotesque has gone from being a six-foot-five monster who
ran around throwing chainsaws at Chip Day to a cruiserweight-size
wrestler that might conceivably be able to shop in the Dickies Junior
section at Sears. The trademark Grotesque head gear – which is
clearly there to try and distract from the fact that roughly
eighty-three different people have been Grotesque – was about four
sizes too big and became an extremely unwieldy collar about five
minutes into the match.
But
the best part? The little guy in the costume was acting
like a big guy. It was like if you gave Paul London Big Show’s
Fighting Style in the first SmackDown
vs. RAW.
That shit was hilarious. Not as hilarious as this:
But
pretty funny.
And
then Supernatural popped up out of the casket like a birthday present
from Hell!
The
Undead Luchador immediately climbed to the top turnbuckle and
launched a dropkick that connected with Valek and Asesino.
The action
spilled out of the ring pretty quickly, with Pandora setting
Grotesquecito on Supernatural and Valek while Asesino waited for his
opportunity to do some truly crazy shit:
Sometimes
it just takes one thing to win me over. This was Asesino’s.
Once
everybody recovered from the clubberin’ they made it back into the
ring where Grotesquecito got dropkicked in the face by everybody at
once:
The
story for a while was everybody beating Grotesquecito down, which
really came off more as bullying because he’s so tiny. October is
National Anti-Bullying month, so I can’t get behind that.
Grotesquecito is now the babyface.
Nah
– just kidding. Because Supernatural took control at this point. He
made Grotesquecito all woozy with a sleeper, tied Valek up in a sort
of modified Tarantula in the ropes, and then… well, Valek pulled
him through the ropes and DDT’d the shit out of him.
Grotesque
and Valek were battling it out on the far side of the ring, but
Supernatural brought Asesino over to our side to say, “Hi!”
Actually, the Undead Luchador motioned for everybody to get the fuck
out of the way because he grabbed Asesino’s head, ran up a chair,
and did a Sliced Bread #2 off the fucking wall!:
HOLY SHIT!
But
Supernatural WAS NOT DONE! He then placed the dazed Asesino on top of
the casket, climbed to the apron, and jumped right onto Asesino’s
abdomen. This looked like it pretty much sucked for Asesino. I felt
very bad for him. Somehow he got back in the ring, though, and even
managed to gain the advantage. At least, until the inevitable TOWER
OF DOOOOOOM!:
Valek
fired up at this point and took the fight to Grotesquecito. After
dumping the tiny titan out of the ring, he ran the apron and dropped
a mean double ax handle across his noggin:
Once
back in the ring, Valek fought with Supernatural and Asesino, but the
Undead Luchador seemed to keep the advantage. When Grotesquecito
regained consciousness, he went directly to the casket, intending to
put an end to this madness:
But
that shit backfired, as he ended up back in the ring with
Supernatural, who seemed imbued with an almost… um… supernatural…
might that evening. The Elder Ones of Downtown Porterdale must have
been looking with favor upon the Undead Luchador because he was –
like the Tick – nigh invulnerable. Grotesquecito found himself
dumped into the very casket he had just opened, and then Supernatural
jumped directly on top of him and then slammed the casket lid –
what remained of it after the madness of this match – SHUT!
YOUR
WINNER – The Undead Luchador, Superrrrrrrrrrrnatural
After
the match, Stephen Platinum hit the ring for the annual ceremony to
honor men who have made significant and special contributions to the
business of professional wrestling.
Real
quick – I forgot to mention Platinum’s shoes earlier. I tired to
take a picture, but obviously didn’t quite get it:
They’re
a pair of custom slip-ons featuring Shane Marx on one foot and the
Demigod Mason on the other. They look pretty fucking amazing. Wait –
here’s a better picture:
This
year’s honoree was a man that I recognized at thw time but I cannot remember his name for the life of me right now. I just spent ten minutes scrutinzing a list of WCW alumhni, too. I'll correct this when I can. He worked for WCW back in the day and is
now taking over the PCW training school in Stephen Platinum’s
absence. Typing “Stephen Platinum’s absence” just then might
have made a little lump in my throat. I don’t know if this fella
will actually be running the future Porterdale shows or if he’s
simply taking over the training. Either way it’s good to know that
somebody will be continuing the good work that Platinum has been
doing.
Brian
Blaze & Geter
Vs.
Washington
Bullets
PCW
Tag Team Season Finals
Call
me a shitty recapper (no, really), but I put the camera away for this
one, too. I just have to draw a line between my love of wrestling and
my need to fill up blog posts. I wanted to savor this match. And
while I can totally enjoy a match while taking shit-tons of pictures,
there are just times where I feel like I need to sit back and focus
on what the men in the ring are doing and the story they’re telling
rather than just trying to get shots of the spots.
Side
Note: There were too many fucking photographers at Sacred Ground. It
was ridiculous.
I respect those guys and what they do and am certainly envious of
their nice cameras, but some of those guys were in my way all fucking
night. A couple were actually conscious of where they were or made an
effort to not obstruct the fans’ views. Others did not give one
solitary shit where they were standing or who they were blocking.
It’s one thing when you have one or two dudes doing that. It’s
another entirely when there are five or six guys all trying to get
the same shot from the same angle. I think the considerate guys know
who they are and the others probably don’t care. So thank you,
considerate guys.
And
believe me – I’m not talking about anybody looking out for me
getting pictures with my little point-and-shoot camera. More often
than not my picture quality isn’t going to be any worse for having
a shirt with dragons all over it obstructing a Frankensteiner. It was
probably going to be blurry anyway. The problem is when I miss even
being able to see the next five moves because that shirt is still
right in front of me. Keep moving, please. Don’t camp out in front
of the paying fans.
This
was the kind of match that not only had huge stakes – the PCW Tag
Team Season Trophy – but was going to tell an interesting story as
well.
The
Washington Bullets are an outstanding tag team with one of the most
impressive records in PCW. They typically get the biggest pop of any
given night and have only gotten better and better with each passing
year. 2012 has been their biggest year yet, with an ongoing presence
in the Tag Team Season as well as successful forays into the singles
scene for both brothers. Jon and Trey are two of the most naturally
gifted and hardest-working athletes in the company. Every person I
have ever brought to a PCW show cold has immediately loved the
Bullets. Granted, this is sometimes more a case of, “Ooh – look
at them,” than “Wow, what an amazing pair of wrestlers,” but
I’m pretty sure they’d take either. Regardless, the Bullets’
tagline in 2012 had been “3peat” - a promise that they will win
the Tag Team Season for a third straight year.
Brian
Blaze and Geter have a very different story from the Bullets, but it
is no less impactful. They made it to the finals of this Season on
their own terms – allying with neither PCW nor Empire. They have
fought the battles they needed to in order to progress, never getting
involved in anything other than furthering their own goals. Blaze has
transformed himself from a solid part of a larger group into a leader
with his own style and impressive skill set. Geter has become the
biggest threat in PCW. This giant could have easily been nothing more
than an Immovable Object and been successful. But that was clearly
not enough. Over the past couple of years Geter has become that
rarest of wrestlers – the athletic Big Man. Rather than watching
him and thinking, “He’s indestructible – nobody could hurt
him,” fans end up thinking, “He is going to destroy everybody.”
Geter is a force of nature and has worked hard to become that.
This
match was all I thought it would be. Again, I hope there is video
somewhere because I really want you to see it. The action was intense
throughout and I have to say I never had any doubt that the Bullets
would win. The end of the match brought several close calls, points
where either team could have won and the ending would have been
satisfying. But finally, Brian Blaze hit one last move on Jon
Williams and Trey simply couldn’t break the pin in time.
YOUR
WINNERS AND 2012 PCW TAG TEAM SEASON CHAMPIONS –
Brian
Blaze & Geter
After
the match Stephen Platinum came out to console the Bullets while
Blaze and Geter celebrated with their hard-won trophy in the ring.
And
with that ladies and gentlemen,
Your
Platinum Championship Wrestling Main Event!
“The
Revelation” Shane Marx w/ Big Masked Guy, Jeff G. Bailey, Jonathan
Malick, Screamin’ Marty Freeman, & Rachael Freeman
Vs.
Demigod
Mason w/ The Witness
For
the Empire Championship and the PCW Championship
This
match was to determine the future of Platinum Championship Wrestling
and Empire Wrestling. Mason went into it as the PCW Champion and
Shane Marx went in as the Empire Champion. The winner would not only
unify the titles but win the company for their side. Either Platinum
Championship Wrestling or the Empire would cease to exist after the
Main Event on September 29th, 2012.
Now,
you might be wondering why I have pictures of this match if it was
such a big deal. I had to. I couldn’t very well not do a decent
recap of this match. I am not being hyperbolic when I say this match
was more important to me, personally than any other match I have seen
live. I have grown to love PCW over the past couple of years and I
didn’t want to see it die (even though I felt certain this was the
case given the surrounding circumstances). I had
to be able to provide a record of this Main Event.
Also,
I felt this match was going to be a bit more entertainment-oriented
than the other matches I put the camera down for. This is not taking
anything away from the athletes involved. Shane Marx and Mason are
the
top competitors in the company. They can wrestle any kind of damn
match they want to. But this one was for everything.
It had to be special and, quite frankly, Marx and Mason wrestling a
riveting, technically sound match is nothing special. They can do
that any night of the week and twice on Sunday with their eyes
closed. Yeah, it’s thrilling and impressive, but it wouldn’t be
appropriate for a match of this significance. And that is precisely
why it is no insult to say this match was going to be more spectacle.
Before
I get too much further, here’s Jeff G. Bailey’s fucking Guccis:
What
an asshole.
So
Marx and Mason were in the ring and the tension in the air was so
thick we could all hardly breathe. I went into this match with an
absolute certainty of the outcome. I won’t tell you what it was
until after I tell you the actual result, but I was about as tense as
I’ve ever been watching a wrestling match.
This
was it. It was go time.
Mason
seemed to have the advantage from the start. Marx got a couple of
holds, but Mason’s confidence and composure never wavered. Marx got
the Demigod in an armbar, but Mason got out. Marx trapped Mason in a
headscissor, but the PCW champ escaped. All quick and efficient.
Mason threw Marx over his shoulder with a snapmare and then followed
up with a tight rolling neck snap.
This
actually seemed to fire the Revelation up, and from there he took
control. He got Mason outside the ring and slammed his back into the
ringpost. I missed some action here, but the Demigod took over
outside the ring at one point and got the Empire figurehead dazed.
Mason ascended to the top turnbuckle and leapt at Marx with all of
the force his body and gravity could muster. The impact was
devastating and both men went crashing to the floor of the venue.
When
they rose Marx was rocked, but Mason was clearly the worse for wear.
Blood was streaming down the PCW Champ’s face like red rain down a
window pane. Marx grinned and threw his opponent back into the ring,
determined to finish things quickly.
The
Revelation had Mason down on his knees and was raining blows onto his
head, making the blood pour out in ever-increasing rivulets. I
thought for sure the referee was going to call the match. If he had,
the crowd would have rioted. Marx finally relented his assault and
brought the crimson Demigod to his feet, likely to deliver the final
blow.
But
a fire suddenly lit Demigod Mason’s eyes, and the bloody Champion
drew back his hand and laid into his foe.
Marx
was unprepared for his opponent’s renewed vigor and was quickly
subdued. Seeing his opportunity, Mason made the most impactful
statement of the night by lifting the bigger man up to his shoulders
and dropping him head first to the ground in a devastating driver.
Panicking
and sensing defeat, Jonathan Malick leapt to the apron in an attempt
to distract the Champion of PCW while the other members of Empire
Management took out the referee. Mason struck Malick down. Before he
could turn back to his foe, Rachael Freeman jumped on Mason’s back,
but the Demigod caught the Empire’s witch and brought her to his
shoulders, dropping her in the same way he had Marx just a minute
earlier.
Finally,
Jeff G. Bailey – the most reprehensible excuse for a human being to
ever set foot in the squared circle – scrambled into the ring
before Mason could regain his footing and forced a white cloth over
the Champ’s mouth. The cloth was obviously treated with a substance
meant to sap the will and drain consciousness, as Mason sank back to
the mat. Bailey dragged Shane Marx’s sorry carcass over and laid
the arm of the Empire’s Fist across PCW’s Last Hope. Bailey then
roughly revived the referee, who moved into position and began what
would be the final count for Platinum Championship Wrestling.
1…
2…
And
Mason threw his arm up in defiance of the odds, in defiance of his
own tortured body, and most of all in defiance of the Empire.
White
hot fire ran through the entirety of that room.
Shane
Marx knew sheer terror in that moment, and it would prove his
undoing.
He
began to throw panicked blows against the Demigod, who was now
seemingly possessed by the very spirit of PCW and the energy of all
of the fans in attendance. Marx’s moves became unfocused and less
concentrated, but still drove Mason to the mat. Desperate to end
things and escape the Demigod’s wrath, Marx scrambled to the top
turnbuckle to deliver a final aerial move. But Mason sprang up from
the mat, electrified, and thrust his hand upward to Marx’s exposed
throat, locking in Occam’s Razor.
The
referee lifted the prone Empire Champion’s hand once and the
audience watched breathlessly as it fell limply to the mat.
Twice,
and again the hand fell.
A
third time, and Marx was gone.
YOUR
WINNER AND NEW UNIFIED PLATINUM CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING AND EMPIRE
CHAMPION
Finally
the energy of the seemingly possessed savior of PCW went limp and he
simply knelt over his vanquished foe in the middle of the bloody
canvas.
Mason’s
family – the entirety of the PCW locker room – swarmed the ring
and surrounded their hero. And that was enough to bring the Champion
back to life, as he ascended to the top of the ringpost and
proclaimed his triumph to the crowd, whose voices were ragged from
continuous chants of, “P-C-W!
P-C-W! P-C-W!”
Finally,
Mason and Stephen Platinum were left in the ring to embrace in their
mutual victory.
And
then that disreputable villain Jeff G. Bailey had the inconceivable
gall to enter the ring and attempt to cast aspersions on the
proceedings.
That’s
it, ladies and gentlemen. It was the very best night of wrestling I
have ever seen and I fear it won’t ever be equaled, let alone
surpassed.
Side
Note: Okay, I really
wanted that to be the end of the recap, as it felt all dramatic and
stuff, but I’ve got a couple more things to say.
I
really meant what I said about Sacred Ground III never being topped.
I doubt it will be.
After
PCW vacated the ring, Jonathan Malick and Bailey got in there and had
a little bitch session. Bailey kicked a bunch of stuff around and
threw a fun little fit:
And
finally, most importantly, PCW is
not dead.
As I said above, I was positive about the result of the Main Event. I
thought the Empire was going to win. It seemed logical, what with
Platinum being in Florida. But that didn’t happen and I’ve never
been so genuinely surprised at the result of a wrestling match except
maybe when RVD beat Cena at One
Night Stand.
But
PCW will return to Porterdale on October 20th, 2012, where Mason will
defend his unified Championship against the Fifth Column. I strongly
recommend you be there. You might have missed the first years of PCW,
but now you can be there for the new beginning.
Also, as always - please check out my Facebook album for a TON more photos.
Also, as always - please check out my Facebook album for a TON more photos.
-Phantom
i love your colorful spins on your recaps. i could actually feel the excitement of the night through your words. thanks.
ReplyDeleteI really appreciate that. I actually got chills myself a couple of times while recapping the Main Event.
DeleteThanks for the mention, even if you did spell my name incorrectly and doubted my credentials.
ReplyDeleteDr. Melei
Heh. Fixed the spelling. And I have every bit of faith in your bandaging skills. I think the only thing barring undoubted legitimacy is a cervical collar. Run out and slap one of those on every time and people would let you perform brain surgery on them.
DeleteI am so deeply saddened that I missed this event.
ReplyDelete-dany only
It was fantastic, but I'm not gonna lie - the thought crossed my mind many times leading up to it, "Man, it's not going to be complete without only there."
Delete