romisdiary

[romisdiary]

El Desperado vs. Jun Kasai: Red Canvas

Death can be the end, or the beginning.

It's the second time I'm writing this. It's the third time I'm deleting whole paragraphs that don't seem to convey the emotions that I hope to represent in this essay. It's the fourth time that I'm doubting if I should write this. It's the fifth time I...fear to not give this match the kind of love it deserves.

It's hard for me to write about wrestling.

It's even harder to write about it without leaving a part of me in what I write and make it just so I can relate with a few parts of what I've seen. This match is about passion, and said passion is what I have for wrestling and what makes me do this again.

Write this again. Share this again. HelI, don't know if somebody is going to see this, but at this point I don't care. I don't care about trying to surpass what I did before. I don't care about somebody that doesn't know me reading this. I don't care about the fact that this could be ignored.

I just don't care, and I don't think it matters.

This, is what "El Desperado" felt.

Well, not exactly, but a part of it.

I don't actually know if Kyosuke Mikami felt this too, but after watching the Death Pain Invitacional classic between Jun Kasai & him, and hearing what he said to who he considers one of his biggest idols and role models in life, I guess I can believe a part of Kyosuke was hidden in that monologue. If you've seen their past encounters, you'll know that one of the most important things that Desperado heard in his life was "do not chase death" from death himself. A poetic, ironic and heartfelt moment that highlighted the mind and soul of who we consider a Deathmatch god in Kasai.

It's through his voice, tired and old, that Despe found the life advice that would make him be stronger, and become undeniable in New Japan Pro Wrestling. It's something that even Despe himself declared. In a year of uncertainty and fear for change, or for missing out on his own potential and the expectations from fans around the world, Despe felt he was getting behind, and he didn't care about fighting because he thought Hiromu Takahashi was on another level.

Under this mindset, he went and challenged Kasai, in the first show right after the pandemic era, with an active crowd clapping and cheering for both men. I watched that match back in 2022 and the kind of hope I felt from it is one that I can't forget, and since that moment all I've seen from both in every single encounter, either teaming up with each other or teaming up against each other, has been absolutely magical.

Last month, I watched Kasai's documentary. I never had the chance to give it a try, but I was interested in Kasai and what was told there thanks to a tweet from Hideo Kojima. I remember the ending of that film, with Kasai turning his back to the camera, showcasing the scars that have embedded in his body as reminders of who he is. He said we needed to follow his back if we've felt like life was missing out on us.

And Kasai, as a wrestler who had considered the idea of retirement thanks to the toll the pandemic era had in himself, had also changed his mind about it and decided to continue fighting until his body couldn't stand it. He said those words, and he told us to follow him, because he was also thinking about giving it all and dying a slow and sad death. That's why, in 2022, the spirit emanating from Kasai motivated Despe enough to challenge him and see if he could feel the excitement and the adrenaline from death. He didn't care after all.

I've said this story many times, and so has a lot of people, but the lessons Despe learned in that match are special. The first one was, not messing with Jun Fucking Kasai because he was going to kill you and make sure you suffer. The second one was, not messing with death because the moment you actually face it you'll be screaming out of horror, pain and anger, scared of what you decided to bring to your life. And the third one was, do not chase death, do not wish for death, and learn to live your life every day you can. These lessons, all related to the concept of death, were a beautiful contradiction from life itself because Kasai is the embodiment of deathmatch, and he motivated Despe to continue living. He motivated us to do so.

This year's Crazy Fest 3-Way between Kasai, Despe and Masashi Takeda, another historic deathmatch wrestler who found life in death, was a celebration of this sentiment. The only sport where something like that could've been done is wrestling, and that match stuck with me because it felt like everything they wanted it to be. It was a ceremony of violence that celebrated the life of a famous referee in the Japanese deathmatch scene and gathered absolutely everybody we can think of to pull a show out of sincere gratitude and love. But, even if I already did a review of that match, one thing was left from that, and it's Despe's feelings after the match happened.

Even with the idea of celebrating life through death, the creeping thoughts and insecurities that drove Despe to do all of this came back in full force, and he was once again asking for death to come. Not because he felt like he didn't care, but because he CARED about it in a way we can't fathom or understand. He cared so much about that loss, he was willing to go through hell again. And the Crazy Pain Invitacional is the perfect stage for it, because contrary to their 2022 affair, Kasai actually invites Despe to this hellhole. He knows that this guy is different, and he knows this guy is a warrior that has unleashed a new version of himself since their classic match. So that's why he calls for him, because he also feels like this is THE match.

Kasai is also a man that has experienced the same things Despe did. They're a mirror of themselves in a way few wrestlers can achieve, and for every thought of ending it all Despe has, Kasai motivates him to live another day. It's fitting that, for every thought of retiring Kasai has, Despe's actions motivate him too. It's a relationship built around competition, and the idea of living to beat each other's asses again and surpass each other. Kasai is an old man, but as we have learned from his words: "Age does not matter."

He is an old man, yes, but he is an old man who has lived in the underground for 25 years of his life, now standing at the Main Event of a Korakuen Hall show, wrestling for New Japan and competing in a match for the IWGP Junior Heavyweight Title. And all of this, is thanks to Despe. Because if not for him wrestling Despe, he wouldn't have the fire inside to do all of this. But he does, and even if his body tells him he can't go no more, he is a crazy monkey, and he is an artist on his own right that will go and do what he wishes.

Despe's work is masterful. At first, you think he's not capable of standing up to Kasai, but it's in the second half of this match we get to see what is really going on. It's not that Despe can't handle Kasai, it's that he's resisting every single thing thrown at him. This is his championship, this is his canvas, and this is his life we're talking about, so Kyosuke just gives in to the violence and absorbs every part of it, just like we see with his white mask, turning red.

Just as I stand in front of this white canvas, bleeding out words in front of you that are vulnerable and heartfelt.

Even with the fear of death lurking inside our mind, our soul, and our spirit, we have to continue living. We have to do it. For our friends, our family, and for ourselves. Kasai has to live, and Despe has to live to fight once again in 10 years as two shitty old men.

Because deathmatch is about life, and life is about death.

[romisdiary]

AKINO & Ayako Hamada (c) vs. Etsuko Mita & Mima Shimoda (ARSION Carnival 1999)

Una de las mejores luchas de la historia, y la mejor lucha en la historia de ARSION por paliza.

ARSION es un caso de una empresa de lucha libre japonesa femenina que entrando al nuevo milenio se vio con la tarea de navegar las aguas profundas del Joshi, con los que habian sido los monstruos de AJW y GAEA debilitados. Si el interes del publico en la lucha libre profesional masculina se desplomo durante esta epoca, las empresas de lucha libre femeninas la pasaron demasiado mal. Esto fue casi una consecuencia de que empresas como AJW hayan cambiado el enfoque que tenian en los 90, priorizando el wrestling por encima de lo que hizo que la gente amara a las Crush Girls en los 80. Para el fanatico japones promedio (conservador como ninguno) AJW no podia ser tomada en serio si era dirigida a adolescentes rabiosas que amaban a Chigusa Nagayo.

Por eso es que existe la concepcion de que la gran epoca de AJW fueron los 90, donde Manami Toyota, Aja Kong, Bull Nakano & Akira Hokuto eran las principales caras de una era de Joshi que ahora si podia ser "tomada en serio" y que habia quitado cualquier vestigio de publico femenino habido y por haber. AJW ahora si era una empresa de lucha libre a tomar en cuenta segun los fanaticos, y segun si misma por haber entregado en bandeja de plata su identidad por un poco mas de relevancia. El problema fue que ese enfoque hizo que la industria entera este por desaparecer, porque las Joshis ya no vendian como antes y a la gente no le importaba que hacian o como.

En este contexto, vemos una lucha de parejas que representa muy bien el objetivo de ARSION en el panorama sombrio que se asomaba, con una escena practicamente abandonada por el "fan de wrestling" japones que ya no tenia razon para ver Joshi. Por un lado tenemos el equipo de Mima Shimoda y Etsuko Mita, "Las Cachorras Orientales" que habian dejado su marca en la industria. Ellas eran un equipo que habia marcado gran parte de los años 90 en el wrestling y que se gano un lugar a punta de absoluta e innegable calidad. Ellas en si representaban esta supuesta "era dorada" del wrestling japones femenino, y querian llevarse el protagonismo en ARSION, enfrentando a las campeonas Twin Stars of ARSION, el equipo conformado por AKINO & Ayako Hamada.

Para que tengan una idea, ARSION se siente como un prototipo de STARDOM en cuanto a presentacion, pero tambien se siente como un choque constante entre dos filosofias: una que prioriza las emociones, y otra que prioriza lo recio y fuerte. No por nada dos de las grandes estrellas en esta empresa son dos luchadoras que en papel son tan diferentes, siendo la siempre face Ayako Hamada, y la absoluta bestia de Mariko Yoshida, de quien hablare en otra ocasion. El combate en si destacaba por su premisa: el homegrown talent de ARSION que habia ganado los titulos Twin Stars, y buscaban defenderlos contra quien sea, enfrentandose a las temidas rivales que les tocarian en el ultimo gran evento del año para ARSION.

El desafio de LCO era claro, y tanto Shimoda como Mita se encargaron de jugar el papel de veteranas buenas para nada que le hacian la vida imposible a las "rookies". La lucha en si se siente como un caos en los primeros minutos, pero siento que eso le suma muchos puntos, porque te da la sensacion de que tanto Shimoda como Mita no quieren soltar el lugar que ganaron, y van a humillar a las pobres luchadoras de ARSION. Aja Kong esta en la esquina de Hamada, ya que esta es practicamente su protegida durante esta epoca.

Y no lo se, pero la visual de Shimoda pasandole la sangre de Hamada a Aja en su remera blanca con el logo de ARSION dice mucho mas que cualquier otro rant en microfono que se pudo haber lanzado. La poca cooperacion entre los spots, y como todo se siente mucho mas improvisado me parece fantastico, y le da un toque de realidad y desesperacion unico. Esta lucha tambien es una obra maestra de ritmo, y de como usar lo que muchas personas pensarian que es poco tiempo para contar una historia increible.

Se habla mucho de "star-making performances" pero este combate es la mayor definicion de ese concepto, y una de las respuestas correctas para dar. Me parece increible como se usa el recurso de la emocionalidad, y como se siente en el aire el hecho de que tanto Hamada como AKINO se cuidan mucho entre si, y se siguen alentando a pesar de la paliza que se comen en contra de las violentas pero experimentadas rivales. Es como si las dos filosofias de ARSION chocaran en un combate que, obviamente, se ha vuelto uno de mis favoritos en lo que llevo investigando esta compañia unica.

La lucha en si es dramatica a mas no poder, pero eso la hace especial. El frenetismo, la agresividad de LCO, el impulso de Hamada, y el hecho de que AKINO siempre busca defender a su compañera incluso cuando esta quiere seguir luchando. La dinamica de ambas es tan fuerte que resuena con el publico, y al final del combate todo el mundo esta gritando el nombre de Ayako, para que ella pueda sobreponerse a las malditas Cachorras Orientales. De manera inconsciente, esta lucha hace una metafora de lo que fue la escena del Joshi entre los 80 y los 90, con unas luchadoras veteranas y recias en LCO, y un equipo que se hace querer muy facilmente, y emana carisma y presencia.

Si te gustan las luchas de parejas, este es un combatazo para tener en tu lista. Y si te gusta el Joshi, creo que es muy importante que veas el capitulo de ARSION en la historia de este para entender todo lo que vendria despues. Definitivamente, esta compañia fue de las mas interesantes en la escena por el enfoque que buscaban tener y por lo que terminaron siendo: un smorgasbord de estilos, luchadoras y calidad en el cuadrilatero. Como te daban una lucha de parejas para la historia, te daban una pelea de MMA con Yoshida en su prime (que luego reseñare)

ARSION es lo que es. Un proyecto que caracterizo una epoca muy especifica en la industria, y que en parte es la fingerprint de todo lo que vendria en el futuro. Es una empresa unica en su especie, que lastimosamente ya no existe, pero que es un gran primer paso si es que tu unica exposicion al Joshi es STARDOM, TJPW Y AJW. No se si te va a cambiar la vida (por ahi si) pero vale la pena ver su catalogo de luchas y vale la pena adentrarse en un nuevo mundo.

[romisdiary]

Fujita Jr. Hayato vs. Munenori Sawa (BATTLARTS 15th Anniversary Show)

Esta lucha representa muy bien a las J-Indies de los 2000.

No se si deberia arrancar esta lucha hablando de lo lindos que se ven tanto Fujita Jr. Hayato como Munenori Sawa, pero si, arranquemos por eso. El puroresu en los años 2000 se preocupo de que sus luchadores se vean hermosos, y varias promociones incluso intentaron que sus mayores estrellas se vean como idols o cantantes de visual kei. Por el lado de Toryumon/Dragon Gate, se notaba mucho que querian meterse en el mercado de los idols, y que habian conseguido algo increible con Masaaki Mochizuki, BxB Hulk & Dragon Kid, que aun estando enmascarado tenia aire de superheroe.

En New Japan no hubo un intento tan marcado de que los luchadores sean esteticos, pero tenias un joven Shibata tirado por ahi, y de vez en cuando tenias a luchadores Junior como Taiji Ishimori o el "bishonen" Kota Ibushi dando vueltas por ahi. En DDT tenias el peak estetico en MIKAMI, un luchador que se veia como un cantante de J-Rock promedio, y que era un Jeff Hardy pasado a Asian Kung-Fu Generation.

En NOAH tenias a KENTA, que se veia y actuaba como un joven rebelde, pero emanaba aura por ser tan cool como era. Entonces, por que me puse a hablar de la belleza de los luchadores al hablar de este combate? Creo que es porque al mismo tiempo que pasa con las Joshis, las empresas en esta epoca buscaron invertir mucho en las figuras de sus luchadores, y en lo que importaba que tengan looks marcados. Hayato es un luchador muy cool durante los 2000, pero quiero destacar lo extremadamente hermoso que se ve Sawa en este combate, porque en el momento de ver este combate lo mas estetico es como ambos emanan personalidad y agresividad.

BattlArts paso por una especie de reboot donde los luchadores como Hayato y Sawa buscaron formar parte de la generacion que representaria a la marca, y lo lograron con creces porque este combate es fantastico. En el 15 Aniversario de la promocion, Hayato y Sawa querian dejar en claro quien demonios eran, y durante menos de 10 freneticos minutos se aseguraron de que los recuerdes. No solo por lo lindos que son, si no por lo fuerte que pegan.

Es satisfactorio, es violento, y es hasta estetico, si se me permite decirlo. Hay algo muy "cool" de esta lucha, y creo que pasa por el hecho de que ambos luchadores comparten una clase de rivalidad- hermandad bastante marcada, y estan dispuestos a matarse el uno al otro para vencer a su rival. Vi esta lucha en stream, y bromee con el hecho de que su dinamica se parecia a la de Naruto y Sasuke, no solo porque ambos tenian cierto aire a ellos dos, si no porque la clase de rivalidad que tendrian seria exactamente igual si fueran reales.

No se si "esta lucha es como si Naruto y Sasuke pelearan en la vida real" es la mejor manera de vender un combate, pero si te puedo decir que nada condensa lo que fueron los mid-2000s en el Puroresu como esta gran lucha llena de patadas, golpes directos y una atmosfera unica que solo BattlArts te puede dar. Te lo recomiendo, esta gratis en YouTube.

[romisdiary]

Chris Brookes vs. HARASHIMA (King of DDT 1st Round)

Que squash hermoso.

El King of DDT es el torneo mas importante y prestigioso de la empresa. Es el que mas luchas increibles nos dio, y el mas longevo que hicieron. Es en si, parte importante de la fundacion de DDT como la conocemos, y como no serlo, si ese torneo fue ganado por Kenny Omega, Kota Ibushi, Konosuke Takeshita, Daisuke Sasaki, Tetsuya Endo, y recientemente, Chris Brookes. Pero de entre todos esos nombres, me parece increible como el que menos credito tenga sea HARASHIMA, el indiscutido Ace de DDT. Cuando se mira para atras en la historia de la empresa, tenes multiples nombres que se han ganado el cariño del fan de wrestling promedio.

El caso de HARASHIMA es tan extraño porque es hasta ahora, que tiene 50 años de edad, que la gente se esta dando cuenta del talento tan unico que es y la calidad que tiene. Durante los 2020, HARASHIMA se encargo de demostrar que tenia tiempo para un reinado mas con el Campeonato KO-D, pero toda ocasion que tenia se veia frustrada. DDT logro construir varias estrellas sacrificando el gran momento del Ace de todos modos, como Ueno, MAO o Brookes, que en la nueva generacion de DDT cargan con la bandera de la promocion. Por eso es que entrando al torneo como Campeon KO-D, Brookes piensa que lo va a ganar y va a decidir contra quien se enfrentara. El definitivamente quiere su revancha contra Masa Takanashi despues de lo que sucedio en su combate, entonces se une al King of DDT con la esperanza de pasar por toda la competencia (a la cual ya le ha ganado)

Es un tramite, algo rapido, que va a hacer y en lo que va a tener exito por ser el campeon. Por eso es que antes de sonada la campana ataca a HARASHIMA, y trata de tener la ventaja rapidamente. El tema es que los 50 años de edad de nuestro Ace no son en vano, porque el sabe perfectamente que Brookes hizo esto para tomarlo por sorpresa. Por eso, cuando Chris se intenta lanzarse en un tope, el agil y rapido HARASHIMA la de una enzuigiri que lo saca del sistema. HARASHIMA le cambia las piezas de lugar a Brookes y este aun asi busca terminar el combate rapido con un Praying Mantis, pero de nuevo, el Ace le da una cucharada de su propia medicina y lo revierte para encestar un Somato fantastico, y luego preparar el otro, cubrirlo y enganchar tanto la pierna como la truza para que no se salga del pin. Asi, y en menos de un minuto, HARASHIMA consigue la victoria y avanza a la siguiente ronda del torneo.

ESTA LUCHA ES GENIAL. El shock del publico, el shock de Brookes, y la expresion de HARASHIMA nos demuestran que el eterno Ace se canso de esperar, y quiere su reinado con el Campeonato KO-D. Yo solo puedo decir de este combate que vi a Dios y a los ojos, pero no era Dios, si no HARASHIMA.

[romisdiary]

Fujita Jr. Hayato vs. Tama Tonga (NJPW Best Of The Super Junior XVII ~ Strike Gold ~ - Tag 4)

Creo que esta lucha es la que menos me esperaba encontrar en YouTube, pero es muy interesante ver este choque, y como Tama Tonga lucha bien en este combate.

Ahora que estamos en epoca de Best of the Super Juniors, queria volver a ver lo que se cocinaba en la New Japan de los años 2000 entrando a los 2010, porque su division Junior estaba llena de grandes luchadores, y habia un rejunte bastante poblado de diferentes promociones. Creo que el BOSJ del 2010 justamente es uno de los mas variados, y de los que mas potencial tenia por sus diferentes combates. No solo tenias la participacion de luchadores de DDT, si no que otros invitados de empresas como Michinoku Pro, como el protagonista de este combate: Fujita Jr. Hayato.

Creo que estoy siendo muy molesta con Hayato, pero es porque el nivel que tenia en esta epoca lo pudo hacer el mejor luchador del mundo facilmente porque no hay nadie a quien le crea mas lo que me vende que este demonio de pelos parados que llego a donde llego a punta de patear a cualquier condenado que se le cruzara. Volvi a ver alguna de sus luchas en este torneo, el que tuvo que dejar porque tuvo una lesion.

Despues de ver su nivel me convenci de que definitivamente podia ganarlo, porque la clase de luchas que dio parecian que querian probar un punto: que el era el mejor Junior del momento. Y si, se nota mucho la diferencia de nivel, y de agresividad. Entonces, encontre este combate que no habia visto antes, y mas que nada lo que me llamo la atencion fue el junte de dos luchadores tan opuestos uno con el otro, de los cuales tengo opiniones completamente diferentes.

De paso, me entro morbo y curiosidad de ver si pasaba lo mismo que paso con Karl Anderson, pero con Tama Tonga. La verdad este combate me sorprendio gratamente, pense que iba a ser algo decente pero termino siendo bueno y entretenido pero mas que nada por el perfil de Hayato, y como justamente le daba patadas sin asco a un Tama que intentaba hacer sus cosas. El dominio del combate en su mayoria es de Tama porque el piensa que va a ganar solamente por fisico, pero si algo caracteriza a Hayato es que es un tipo que saborea la sangre cuando la ve, y si Tama tiene una venda enorme en la rodilla, obviamente que Hayato la va a usar a su favor.

Progresivamente la ventaja de Tama se vuelve de Hayato, ya que este lo subestima, y luego se da cuenta de su error. La verdad es que su papel como el powerhouse me gusto mucho, mas que cualquier otra cosa que hacia en el Bullet Club, y afirmo mi teoria de que cada luchador americano que haya pasado por el Bullet Club se ha visto diluido de una manera u otra. Algunos se recuperaron, y otros siguen teniendo el mismo sintoma. Esta lucha es intensa, rapida, y corta, por ende se pasa facil y la disfrutas hasta cierto punto por el choque de estilos, y porque el final, con Hayato reventandole la cabeza de un rodillazo, es ciertamente satisfactorio. Asi que si, supongo que es una buena lucha, y si tenes un tiempito podes mirar lo que era Tama Tonga antes del "estrellato".

[romisdiary]

John Cena vs. Randy Orton (WWE Backlash 2025)

La ultima John Cena vs. Randy Orton de la historia se uso para un buildup de un bookeo slop de Reddit.

John Cena y Randy Orton son indudablemente las estrellas mas grandes de los ultimos 25 años de pro wrestling. Estrellas mas grandes no significa mejores, pero en el caso de Cena si podemos decir que es uno de los mejores de la historia. Esta lucha siento que te pega mucho si tenes nostalgia de la epoca del Cena-Orton, o si tenes una conexion emocional con estos dos luchadores. Eso asumo que le suma puntos a este combate, independientemente de la accion en el ring y el ritmo que pueda llegar a tener. Yo sinceramente no siento ningun tipo de conexion grande con estos dos luchadores porque simplemente no veo WWE con tanta frecuencia y sinceramente no siento que alguien como Randy Orton pueda estar a mi mismo nivel de idolatria que un KENTA o un Katsuyori Shibata. Antes de ver este combate, existia un debate muy grande y era el de que podian hacer un Cena y un Orton al borde del retiro en 2025, y la respuesta la tuvimos y fue bastante inesperada.

Los unicos luchadores que tienen el beneficio de envejecer como el vino son los mexicanos y los japoneses, a no ser que tu nombre sea Terry Funk. En WWE es dificil agarrar luchadores que mientras mas grandes se hacian mejores eran, o al menos no perdian tanta habilidad y calidad. Estamos en una epoca extraña de la lucha libre, donde los Aces de los 2000 finalmente se estan deteriorando y llegando a un punto de no retorno. Hiroshi Tanahashi, Naomichi Marufuji, John Cena, y muchos otros mas se estan encontrando con la pared del envejecimiento, por ende las expectativas que puedan haber de combates que los involucren a ellos son menores. Este ultimo combate de Cena y Orton es un fenomeno extraño, porque comparado a todo lo que fue el Campeonato de WWE en los ultimos años, con sus epicas larguisimas, esta lucha fue justamente una lucha tradicional a mas no poder, con segmentos de control y un ritmo equilibrado entre uno y otro.

Los primeros minutos de este combate me fascinan porque tenemos tanto a Cena como a Orton haciendo el gran tributo a Akira Taue con piquetes en los ojos e intercambios de candados, algo tan extraño que ya siento no existe en una empresa convulsionada como WWE, quitando que existe CM Punk todavia. Cuando vi este combate no pude evitar pensar en los grandes combates de los 80s o incluso 70s, que priorizaban un uso de la expectativa de los fanaticos y buscaban llevarlos a un viaje con destino, mas que un "veamos que pasa" como las defensas del campeonato este acostumbran a hacer. El problema es que WWE tiene que hacer un WWE y todo este esfuerzo de ambos por construir una lucha que sorpresivamente no baja de buena visto y considerando el contexto que presente termina desapareciendo en cuestion de segundos, cayendo de nuevo en la formula de la epica sin sentido convulsionada, y llena de un overbooking que busca repetir el efecto "WrestleMania 40" y que ha infectado a las defensas titulares de este campeonato de tal manera que ahora lo unico que les queda bookear es slop de Reddit, con R-Truth salvando a Cena por un chiste de 2019 que llego demasiado lejos y que quieran o no le baja el precio al Campeonato de WWE por una cuestion de rangos. Me encanta R-Truth, es el unico apice de comedia real en WWE que no raya en el chiste malo o directamente ofensivo, si no que es enteramente inocente, pero no puedo sentarme y ver como Orton hace 5 RKOs a 5 personas distintas, pero luego llega R-Truth y Orton duda en hacerlo.

Independientemente del bookeo, independientemente de la historia que vayan a contar en el futuro, llevamos dos luchas titulares de John Cena con finales malos o que dejan mucho que desear. Por lo menos ahora esta mejorando el nivel de la lucha en si, siendo una demostracion mas que decente de lo que tanto Cena como Orotn pueden hacer fuera de su situacion, pero el final en si sigue siendo ridiculo no importa cuantas veces lo vea. Me gusta hacer enfasis en la parte de "chiste de 2019" porque esto es directo del libro de la WWE de 2019 que tanto gustan criticar, y que ven con malos ojos por ser el pico del mal booking en la compañia. No, esto no se supone que tiene que ser malo, ni es una cuestion de "long-term" si no una cuestion de que el tour de retiro de la estrella mas importante de la lucha libre a nivel mundial no puede tener una visual como la del final de este combate. Me da mucha pena que sea asi, porque este combate me estaba gustando mucho, pero por este tipo de bookeos siento que WWE esta mordiendo mas de lo que puede masticar, y esta estructura de "hype moments y aura" eventualmente se va a gastar, porque no va a haber aura de donde agarrar, al bookear a R-Truth por el campeonato mundial de WWE en contra de John Cena.

[romisdiary]

El Desperado vs. Jun Kasai vs. Masashi Takeda (Barb Sasaki Produce Barb Sasaki Refereeing Life 25th Anniversary CRAZY FEST)

Living beyond death.

The main thing about the El Desperado vs. Jun Kasai is that, as a series of matches, it obviously tells a story. A tale of Desperado pursuing death but learning to live in the process by facing he who has tricked death countless times and stands as the purest form of a death match wrestler, just because he continues to live on. Kasai is death match wrestling, and not because of his trajectory, but because of his philosophy towards death match.

What makes Kasai so special to me is something that I can't find in the likes of Nick Gage or Nick Mondo. This feeling of fighting through thick and thin to continue breathing and continue doing the sport they love the most is what makes Kasai so legendary.

Desperado vs. Kasai in 2019 was somewhat of a promise that failed to be fulfilled. Desperado wanted Kasai more than anything in the world, because facing such a legendary wrestler would be the litmus test of his own worth as an individual, yet he couldn't achieve that.

Desperado vs. Kasai in 2022 was a poem, a declaration of how important is to live, and how foolish is to search for death, or stating you're going to die if needed. The match itself is Desperado atoning for his sins, as we see Kasai giving him a taste of what he wishes or thinks he does. Kasai's monologue continues to resonate as the mantra of this rivalry/friendship/bond they share.

They share, and they shed blood. After 2022 though, Desperado and Kasai were more of a unit. They worked as an occasional tag team, and in those matches we found a new version of the masked wrestler. He was free from the chains and limitations of the junior heavyweight division and was going all in on every single occasion.

Desperado built a resume of fantastic matches in every promotion *but* New Japan Pro Wrestling. After watching a sick tag team match between him and Kasai against Rina Yamashita and Masashi Takeda, I was kinda disappointed on the way Desperado wrestled in NJPW. He was remarkable, that's for sure, but something was missing.

I don't want to use the word “soul” because Desperado's wrestling style has that in every single part of what constitutes his persona and the enigmatic presence he carries wherever he goes, but it's a concept akin to that. So, when this match appeared in front of me, I was excited for it, because I wanted to see what was the next chapter in Desperado's story with death match wrestling.

I'm going to try to be brief with my review: this match fucks.

I was not hoping to use vulgar terms to explain my liking of this match, but I think it's the most honest way to portray my feelings towards this and how much I loved every single second of it. In this current state of wrestling where I'm more radicalized by the minute in terms of how my taste continues to develop, this match is the definition of fresh air.

It's a match that, on the surface, doesn't seem to care about telling a story. But the story of the match is the match itself and how it is a celebration of everything that made death match wrestling in Japan so characteristic in the 2000s.

At one point it becomes nonsensical violence. The one that doesn't need an explanation more than the nature of the human being and the most timeless form of entertainment and artistic expression: this being pure violence for the sake of it. You stop watching a match, and you start seeing a test of endurance.

A fight for the ages, and the most empiric proof of the indomitable human spirit. Desperado's presence in this match also tells a story of a man who was a fan of death match wrestling but never had the chance to explore it in its finest form, up until this night.

Yes, you could make an argument that Desperado wrestled “death matches” but nothing close to this. The context of this match is what makes it special, as Desperado squares up against the “Crazy Monkey” in Kasai, and the “Crazy Kid” in Takeda. Both individuals synonymous with death, but preachers of life in every single aspect.

We know what Kasai did in 2022, and we know the kind of impact it had on Desperado, but Takeda is also a wrestler that shares that philosophy of “living beyond death”. When he became King of FREEDOMS Champion, he stated that his late wife was watching him somewhere, as he achieved his dream. He used death match wrestling to learn how to live, facing the death of his loved one, and I think that's beautiful and one of the main reasons I adore this match.

This is a fight for survival. These are warriors. This is the thing that makes wrestling so pure to me. The raw emotion, and the universal language that is violence when done the right way. The nature of great death match wrestling. A match so good, so emotional, that exists as a life lesson. A lesson on how to live.

[romisdiary]

Kyle Fletcher vs. Will Ospreay (AEW Dynasty 2025)

Si la lucha libre no es gay, no es lucha libre.

Si me seguís desde hace tiempo, sabes mi opinión de Will Ospreay: de hecho creo que en este punto es como el chiste de Los Simpson donde dicen “Macbeth” y cae un relámpago. No es sorpresa para nadie que no me gusta su manera de luchar, y que no es que no me gusta porque se fue a AEW y no a WWE como unos cuantos imbéciles en Twitter, sino porque durante 6 años he sufrido a Ospreay como no se lo imaginan.

¿Saben lo difícil que es invertir tiempo en un luchador que esperas que mejore, pero se ve obligado a hacer eso que te cae tan mal porque es la fórmula que le sirve?

Ahora entiendo a la gente que en 2016 y 2017 criticaba a Kenny Omega después de haber visto su paso en DDT y AJPW donde, de manera consistente, se robaba el show. Me sucede lo mismo con Ospreay, por el hecho de que cuando era Junior me parecía un luchador fantástico, y porque estaba dispuesta a aceptar sus falencias en pos del estilo dinámico y frenético que tenía.

Cuando Ospreay hace la transición de Junior a Heavyweight, es cuando estas exigencias que tenía subieron su nivel y deje de perdonar ciertos elementos de su estilo, elementos que hasta el día de hoy ha cargado y llevado al máximo en ocasiones.

Este blog, o al menos la versión canon, comenzó con una reseña de una lucha de Will Ospreay en New Japan Pro Wrestling: una tipo War Games entre el United Empire y el Bullet Club que había dejado una opinión mixta, donde muchos decían que había sido increíble, y otros que había sido una perdida de tiempo.

Yo me encontraba en el medio de eso, con una reseña que hablaba del concepto de la “casa de cartas” para referirme a Ospreay, y para referirme a la estructura de sus combates donde hacia todo de manera extremadamente “flashy” para no dejarte entender lo que veías y que te quedes con la idea de que es el mejor luchador del mundo. La reseña se basó en la frustración que tenía con Ospreay.

No podía comprender el hecho que este tipo inhumanamente atlético y capaz de hacer cualquier cosa, no entienda el privilegio absurdo que tiene con el estilo que plantea, y como puede construir expectativa con movimientos o spots que valdrían muchísimo más si no los repitiera constantemente. Me daba pena que un luchador que deje tanta sangre en el ring no fuera capaz de conmoverme, o darme a entender los efectos de esa violencia que practicaba a través del selling de lo que pasaba en el combate.

En sí, el pico de este Ospreay flashy llego en 2021 y 2022, donde a través de esta fórmula (y aprovechando que el fan de wrestling necesitaba una inyección de serotonina por los efectos secundarios de la pandemia) escalo en New Japan hasta llegar a ser Campeón IWGP Peso Pesado, y luego ser campeón en RevPro, y Warrior Wrestling, fomentando una clase de “Belt Collector”.

No lo identifique en su momento, pero el tiempo me dio a entender que Ospreay fue (y en momentos es) un luchador que se sostiene en el hecho de que los receptores de dopamina del público están reventados, y la idea del “highlight wrestler” ya no es un chiste, sino una realidad y algo en lo que muchos luchadores se basan para formar sus combates.

Por todo esto, es que la idea de que luche contra Kyle Fletcher me parecía la oportunidad perfecta para que me guste Ospreay de una buena vez. Si no has sido capaz de ver el trabajo de Fletcher o analizarlo en profundidad, te sorprendería saber lo estructuralmente distinto que es a Ospreay, y la verdad es algo que nadie esperaba que sea así por los comienzos de Fletcher y como siendo parte de Aussie Open tenía ese condimento “flashy” en sus luchas también.

En una época donde todos los luchadores eran “Ospreay clones” Fletcher decidió cortarse el pelo, sí, pero decidió cortar con esta visión del wrestling sobre estimulada a más no poder. En sus luchas empezó a introducir elementos más tradicionales, empezó a priorizar el selling, tuvo un cambio físico abismal y de a poco se fue volviendo uno de mis luchadores favoritos por todo esto y mucho más.

Este enamoramiento por Fletcher se intensificó a partir del Continental Classic, y su lucha con Daniel Garcia, donde las dinámicas presentadas eran mucho más simples y efectivas. Fletcher se hacía odiar naturalmente, y por las razones por las cuales la gente amaba a Ospreay. Siempre me pareció algo extraño que un héroe te diga constantemente que es el mejor luchador del mundo y no admita espacio a discutirlo: más extraño cuando el mismo discurso lo hace el villano y es justamente odiado.

La palabra y el concepto clave detrás de Fletcher era el odio. Tanto el odio que tenía él, como el odio que teníamos por él. El emparejamiento de Ospreay con Fletcher me parecía agridulce, porque, por un lado, Fletcher buscaba limitar los errores de Ospreay, pero este estaba predispuesto a hacerlos de todos modos. Sentía una desconexión entre las propuestas que ambos traían a la mesa, por eso, y por la experiencia que tuve viendo a Ospreay en luchas de este estilo, me daba mucho miedo la Steel Cage.

Ver este combate en vivo para mí al menos fue una experiencia interesante, porque entre con expectativas bajas a medias, y salí con el culo para arriba. Asumí que iba a ser violento, asumí que iba a tener este tipo de spots y momentos, pero siempre me mantuve con la idea de que no se me iba a demostrar la violencia de esta lucha: comparándola con la War Games de hace un año.

Me alegra mucho decir que mis sospechas fueron solo paranoia, y que mis críticas fueron calladas de manera exitosa. Este combate es una maravilla, la mejor Steel Cage que vi en mucho tiempo, y algo que aprecié más viendo la seguidilla de luchas que Revolution había tenido y el nivel de consistencia que alcanzo (hasta el Main Event)

Ospreay vs. Fletcher III, justo como Mariah May vs. Toni Storm III se trata acerca de la relación de ambos, pero a diferencia de Mariah vs. Toni que se presenta como un momento de reflexión final y despedida, esta lucha se presenta como el lado más desagradable y violento de ambos, que no tiene interés alguno en mantener viva la llama del vínculo. Esto es odio puro, y cuando se llega a transmitir ese odio a través de lo que pasa en el ring, es cuando una lucha llega a un nivel abismal, y su valoración se transforma en algo universal.

Cuando se puede transmitir el odio de manera correcta, es cuando cualquiera puede conectar con la lucha, independientemente de su perspectiva o gustos. Eso lo compruebo yo, que no soy fan de Ospreay y que mientras todo el mundo le tiraba flores a su combate con Danielson me dio sueño. Así de bueno me parece este combate.

Ahora, algo que me sucedió es que mientras lo veía sentía que estaba haciendo todo bien como para que me guste, incluso el enfoque de la violencia y su presentación, de la cual yo hice gala en Twitter cuando dije que era extremadamente gay. En la euforia del momento, habrá parecido un chiste, pero en esta reseña puedo explicar por qué dije lo que dije, y que es a lo que me refería con ello.

Que esta lucha sea extremadamente gay es necesario, porque el wrestling cubre de manera muy pobre un aspecto de la violencia indiscriminada que es la perversión: la idea de romper con una idea de algo preestablecido. Las luchas más violentas de la historia, y las más recordadas, siempre se han escudado en esto: en cambiar la manera en la que se entiende la violencia en el wrestling.

Justo como lo hizo una lucha como Swerve Strickland vs. Hangman Page en Full Gear 2023, esta lucha no le teme a explorar otras avenidas para que la violencia se sienta íntima y profunda. Puedo listar varios de los momentos gays en esta lucha, como Fletcher lamiendo un destornillador ensangrentado con una expresión de placer, o metiéndole en la boca un brazalete del United Empire a Ospreay, jugando con el vínculo que tuvieron alguna vez.

Hay una observación que si voy a hacer de esta lucha y es que Fletcher desde el segundo 1 tiene en la mente este enfoque, pero Ospreay no y va liberándose progresivamente de sus cadenas para ya al final abrazar la violencia como parte de él, y ganar la lucha. En un momento donde lo que más se discute en el wrestling es la representación de la violencia, y donde se habla de “excesos”, esta lucha es un fiel recordatorio de que tenerle miedo a lo violento es tenerle miedo a lo humano, y por ende, a lo real.

No tengo palabras para el combate, y no tengo interés en analizarlo desde la perspectiva cansina y usando los mismos argumentos que todo el mundo. Quería hablar del uso de la violencia en este combate, y como AEW ha estado implementando estos elementos en sus rivalidades para hacerlas más personales, teniendo éxito y demostrando que cualquier forma de la lucha libre, tiene que ser gay de vez en cuando para llegar a su máximo potencial.

[romisdiary]

Katsuyori Shibata vs. Kazuchika Okada (c) (NJPW Sakura Genesis 2017)

Sacrifice.

Katsuyori Shibata to me is one of the most inspirational wrestlers to follow. Not because of what happened in this match, and how he succeeded in overcoming the effects of *that* headbutt, but because he always gave his 120% in every single outing he had since the beginning of his career. And that's something that we need in modern days. I found myself going back and watching old Shibata matches from his early NJPW era, and I'm not talking about the famous matches with Hirooki Goto or Tomohiro Ishii. When you talk about Shibata's sacrifice for pro wrestling, you need to talk about his early 2000s matches, where he wrestled people like Jun Akiyama, Kazuyuki Fujita and Kazunari Murakami. Those are the matches I tend to go back to and say: this is real.

Not because those matches have insane striking exchanges or sick neck bumps, but because of what I see in them. I see struggle, I see fight and I see suffering. Three universal feelings many can connect to, and much fail to portray successfully in modern wrestling. I think we're in a weird period for the sport. While some of the best wrestlers in the world actually give their all, the self-proclaimed “goats” of this era have been found rehashing old formulas that work for them, and give them relevance. Bloodline-type booking, WWE-type producers, AEW-type structure, and even NJPW-type epic have been the things I complained and hated the most in this last tenure as a fan because to me, they don't feel as real as this.

It's ironic, because we live in a world where most wrestling fans would rather say that what they've spent their lives following is fake and stupid just so they can get approval from normal individuals. Wrestling fans are accepting of mistreatment towards wrestling as a concept if that means their favorite thing stops being a niche. So many people have participated in building this idea of wrestling that I don't subscribe to, and I hate with all my heart, an extreme opposite of the match that I'm about to review.

See, it's hard to talk about this one without highlighting what everyone already says: This is one of the best matches of all time, that's for sure, but why is it so good? Is it because of the action? The strikes? The atmosphere? All could be great answers, but to me, the definitive one is the concept of sacrifice. All great art must come with a bit of blood and suffering. Not because it needs to be “edgy” to be credible, but because you need to *feel* what you're doing. If you don't *feel* what you're doing, you're making a mere product, and you're hoping to sell it to anyone who's willing to buy it. A product tends to be marketable. A product tends to be *safe* and choreographed, like the last years of American wrestling with some great and needed exceptions.

When talking about pro wrestling being an art form, one must not forget the essence of any type of art. This match is not a product, BUT a product of the magic that can come out of giving your all for this. This match helps you understand the importance of wrestlers being compromised enough with their craft to throw their lives away for what they love the most. If a wrestler is not willing to do this for the sport he's been born to do his whole life, then your favorites should learn a thing or two about honesty. What's more honest than Shibata headbutting Okada so hard his blood falls from his hair into his mouth, making him taste the flavor of adrenaline pumping through his veins, forcing him to continue fighting?

I can't think of something that specific yet special for the structure of a match. There's a morbid nature in watching this one knowing exactly what's going to happen, but as some things in wrestling, you're still not prepared for it. You'd think the headbutt would happen later in the finishing stretch, but it does not. Shibata is willing to go in for more than 20 minutes because this is his life flashing through his eyes. From the second he entered the NJPW dojo, from the moment he busted himself open while fighting the IWGP Heavyweight Champion. Just as Mozart did his “Requiem” in the last moments of his life, or just like Jesus gave his body and blood to his disciples days before being crucified, Shibata gives us his blood too and makes us witnesses of the last flame of true Fighting Spirit NJPW has seen for a long time. This match is a masterclass. I have nothing to say more than thanking Shibata for all the things he has done for this sport, he's one of the best wrestlers of all time, and this match of course is one of the best too.

[romisdiary]

Fujita Jr. Hayato vs. Keita Yano (Battlarts Young Generation Battle 2008 - Tag 3)

GOD BLESS.

The best type of wrestling to me always stand out from the rest for two simple reasons: the first one being the kind of violence displayed, and the second one being the understanding of violence.

2000s Battlarts is always a promotion I go back to because of this premise: even if its final years were kinda grim, the amount of talent coming out of their pools is one that would go and shape the foundations of Japanese pro wrestling in the 2010s, with the exception of Keita Yano because he would kill some DDT guys and get banned from everywhere.

Nonetheless, his work in this match is outstanding because here he is fighting the young killer in Fujita Jr. Hayato, who is making waves thanks to his rapid, aggressive and brutal style that one could only compare to that of an early 2000s KENTA. One could also argue Hayato being infinitely better, but I'll leave it at that.

The way this match and all of Battlarts matches are recorded and presented during this era makes me think this kind of intimate atmosphere builds what we're about to see too. It's a welcoming presentation, that makes us realize wrestling is not defined by a big budget, but whatever we see in the squared circle.

To some of us that's blatantly obvious and unnecessary to bring to the discussion, but to other people it seems that wrestling can't be enjoyed without flashing lights. This match to me is essentially the purest form of pro wrestling. A simple dynamic with absolutely breathtaking action. Yano eats some of the sickest strikes ever hit by a human being, and Hayato is basically himself delivering said strikes.

It's not a 50/50 match and it shouldn't be because it would kill so much of it, and if you want to watch a different type of wrestling from the usual you consume, this match is 10 minutes long. I tend to re-watch it whenever I feel down or sad because it's an injection of adrenaline provided by two of the best wrestlers (and most underrated wrestlers) to have ever do it.

[romisdiary]

Chris Brookes (c) vs. Shuji Ishikawa (DDT New Year, New Hero 2025)

I thought I "knew" how this match was going to go.

The more I consume wrestling, the more I find myself stuck in this idea of "knowing" the outcome of a match. It's like one of the most special things about the sport, because in the supposed predictability a match could get, you find somewhat of an unexpected outcome. To me, saying wrestling is scripted takes from the dramatic nature of a match in which you actually don't know what's going to happen.

Yes, you can argue wrestling is indeed scripted, but you don't know said script at all, you just try to understand it and see where does it go from point A to point B. You can predict the outcome of a story and see if you can connect all the dots, but you'll never "know" how a match will develop.

As there are examples of matches falling down piece by piece like a house of cards, there are examples of matches that understand you're taking them for granted and show you how wrong you can be, succeeding in their mission, as you watch your screen thinking "Well, that was awesome."

That's the appeal of a "match" to me in terms of telling a story. Yes, I know this is scripted, but predicting the outcome of a match to me is a great way to see how a match treats suspension of disbelief and how does it make you feel a part of it.

If you read this blog, it's no secret DDT is one of my favorite promotions. I made various reviews of DDT matches that gave its flowers to a company that to me stands out as the best example of what "modern" pro wrestling should be in all of its glory, and this match I bring you today is a great example of this I'm preaching.

Chris Brookes vs. Shuji Ishikawa is built around the idea of Ishikawa being this big, mean monster that will surely take Brookes by storm.

A similar idea was the backbone of that fantastic King of DDT final between Kazusada Higuchi & the current KO-D Openweight Champion. While this is enough to catch my eye, the implications of this match for Brookes were big, if not immense.

If you don't know what happened with Ishikawa these last months, I can give you a quick recap.

Ishikawa left All Japan Pro Wrestling and entered a DDT built around junior-heavyweights. A DDT that had just lost Yusuke Okada, Yukio Sakaguchi and Yuji Hino but had both Brookes and Yuki Ueno as flag bearers of a new era in the company, seconded by the oh so charming and charismatic stable of 37KAMIINA.

Ueno, as former KO-D Openweight Champion, had his reality check when he faced Shinya Aoki, a legit shooter that made him understand the flaws around his game and humiliated him in both a technical sense and a psychological sense. Ueno's defeat was something unexpected to me, but the more Aoki continued his title reign, I understood the purpose of it.

Therefore, when taking into consideration that both Ueno and Brookes were the flag bearers of the company, and both had careers certainly connected to one or each other, the idea of the same scenario happening was at least intriguing. DDT tends to work like that. When a champion faces every talent in the company or at least every single potential threat to his title reign, a new contender emerges and dethrones him.

For me, Ishikawa was that guy. It was not only his in-ring prowess that made me contemplate the idea of a KO-D reign from him, but other things like another match with HARASHIMA on the horizon, or Ueno's redemption being beating this big bad monster in Judgement or something like that.

I never considered Brookes as a legit threat to Ishikawa.

And this is what I meant when I brought out the idea of "knowing" the outcome of a match. When a match shuts you up and makes you doubt if you know anything about wrestling is when said match hits a higher level, and when you can actually believe what you're looking at. Brookes is no stranger to these kinds of showings.

As I said before, the King of DDT final in 2023 is a great example of this type of matches where he just gets destroyed but continues fighting, while bloody and battered. A type of match where you just don't see the miracle of Brookes actually winning, and you just simply accept what will come.

I think Brookes has been fantastic for a while, and some people will still refuse to give him his flowers because of some things he does that don't align with people's tastes in wrestling, but to me, it's all about the heart and the emotions he evokes. He's definitely one of the best foreign wrestlers in Japan right now, but the work he's been putting on DDT has been nothing but outstanding to me.

If you didn't realize by now, I love this match. Ishikawa is great as always, but Brookes pushes all the right buttons to make you believe he's actually going to defeat this monster standing in front of him. In the first minutes of this match, Brookes' offense is useless against Ishikawa, who using his brutal headbutts puts him in a hurry over and over. The size difference also tells a story of Brookes' natural and evident limitations against his opponent.

He may be tall, but he's not as powerful as Ishikawa, so he has to pull every trick out of his book and stand against everything that gets thrown at him. This match is violent and aggressive, but I don't think it's necessary to clarify this when you consider the hardcore aspect surrounding it too, because yes, this is also a hardcore match, and a great example of the stories you can tell when bringing weapons into the equation. It seems like this match hits all the strides, and maybe it does because if not, I wouldn't write this. Brookes' victory feels satisfying in a way few matches make me feel.

Because it's not just about the idea of him winning, but him overcoming the odds and the presumed idea he's going to fail, welcoming a new year, and standing tall as DDT's new hero.

[romisdiary]

Cara Noir vs. Effy (GCW Live in London 2025)

Yes, I have subjected myself to this.

Effy is the worst cancer that you shall never get rid of. He is what people think a "gay" wrestler is because he has not made any effort in being good and being a good representative of the LGBT+ community in wrestling. In the past I thought he was there for the vibes, you know, as an act rather than a wrestler, but time passed, and he even decided to try and become more than what people perceived him to be. He tried to be taken seriously, but he just couldn't escape his own perception of himself. He couldn't leave the thing that made him famous and infamous for that matter: he couldn't stop *being* Effy.

And what is Effy? Notice I've said "what" and not "who" because to me Effy is no longer an act for the vibes, but the representation of what pushes down LGBT+ wrestlers to a road of mediocrity. He is everything wrong with wrestling, in the sense he's not looking for people to appreciate wrestlers in the community for more than the fetishization he brings to the table.

There are so many great examples of LGBT+ wrestlers that are fantastic or at least try to put the effort. Even if I don't particularly like some of them, in a world where Effy tries to be the norm and the thing people think IS an LGBT+ wrestler, Mike Bailey and Nyla Rose stand out to me as great examples of the opposite. As a proud member of the community, I'm sick and tired of Effy being *our* main representative in the wrestling scene because he does not represent *us* at all but what people think we can give.

When you see Effy, you can't take him seriously because he's just *gay* and that's the joke. He's weird, he's quirky, he's wicked, and he's disgusting because THAT's what gay people should be in wrestling, right? They all shall be freaks of nature, but what Effy fails to understand or does not want to recognize is that WRESTLING is a sport for the freaks. The wrestlers are not normal individuals, so there's no necessity in highlighting your wickedness only because you're a gay man if the sport welcomes even more wicked concepts.

And to be honest, what is *wicked* about a gay man? He's just gay, that's it. We have passed the need for Effy in the wrestling world because he's just a reminder of what LGBT+ wrestlers shouldn't be. They shouldn't be compiled and compressed into one-trick ponies that people can't take seriously. They should strive for more.

The worst thing about Effy is that even when being criticized by members of the community he says he represents, he can't acknowledge the damage he's doing in terms of perception and how the common public views LGBT+ wrestlers. His head is so far to his ass, he stands in the middle of the ring and acts like a moral compass of what wrestling should be.

He proudly claims he's a bold man, but you shouldn't confuse boldness with straight out ego, and an undeserving one. Effy does not understand the reason we criticize him is not because we hate him, but because he should understand the position he's in and should look for ways to make people accept LGBT+ wrestlers for more than the jokes he pulls out.

Enter Cara Noir, a wrestler who even if you don't like him has made the effort to go onto something more special and unique in wrestling. His rivalry with Ilja Dragunov, while extremely melodramatic and silly, tried to be something else than what Effy does. Dragunov and Noir tried to tell you a love story by fighting and highlighting the performative art wrestling can be because of its variety.

Even if you don't stand for that perspective of wrestling, you can at least appreciate the attempt to strive for more, to live as something more than who you may think Noir is. In Noir also lied tragedy, sadness, melancholy. He was not just a Black Swan-inspired gimmick. He was not just a gimmick, or a joke. Noir existed as something else, a manifestation of what the community could strive to be in terms of how they approach wrestling.

Noir vs Dragunov even in his theatrical nature had a brutality and a sense of wickedness not brought by the idea they were kissing or showing signs of love, but because of the battles they went through. My issue with Effy lies in the idea he NEVER treats his identity as something that he should live with, but highlights it over and over and over and over to hide his most obvious mistakes.

Yes, he's gay, and yes, he's a maniac, but the idea of Effy highlights the gay part more than the maniac one, so you sit and think "oh well he's a maniac because he's gay, and gays are weeeeeeird". That's the joke, that's the punchline, there's nothing else hidden or brought by Effy that could awaken something more than cringe and disappointment, AND THAT'S WHERE THE ISSUES LIE.

If the main representative of the LGBT+ community in wrestling brings his contemporaries to a level of mediocrity so high, people constantly said he and his peers shouldn't be included in wrestling, where does that leave all the other members of the community? Why are we stuck doing 2018 Pride Parade bullshit when people of our community around the world continue to be harassed and killed? Why can't wrestling think of the LGBT+ community as more than an accessory? Why can't we have serious and heartfelt stories told by LGBT+ wrestlers?

Who said Monomoth can't be a bloody and beautiful underdog fighting for a world title? What is our end goal in wrestling if the focus of the community continues to be on someone like Effy that not only does not understand the damage he's doing, but surrounds himself around ass-kissers that will NEVER doubt anything he does? Is the LGBT+ community stuck and subject to continue doing jokes with our sexuality, or can we think and dream of a future where our own people stop receiving comments doubting the importance of LGBT+ representation in wrestling?

Because I don't know about you, but I'm tired of celebrating Effy, because I'm not proud and neither I feel represented.

[romisdiary]

Kazuyuki Fujita vs. Go Shiozaki (Pro Wrestling NOAH 20th Anniversary ~ NOAH The Chronicle Vol. 2)

30 minutes.

When you look back at the pandemic era of professional wrestling, you think about many promotions that stood up and had to change a lot of things to survive. You think of the big ones, like WWE and AEW, who changed their whole presentation for a more intimate and let's say creative approach. The Thunderdome was something straight out of a dystopia, but it was accurate to the times we were going through. I mean, the idea of a pandemic always sparks fear and intimidation for whatever happens to you or your loved ones, so the idea of wrestling in front of multiple screens with people watching over you ALL the time didn't feel like that much of a nightmare, although it was.

AEW had their own shows, and they made the talent the crowd so you could at least try and remember the times when real people were there, cheering or booing the wrestlers in the ring and making sure they have a reaction, or they don't. The thing about the AEW roster working as a crowd was that they reacted to everything and everyone. At the time we didn't question if that was practical or not because we were so needed of human interaction anything resembling our ordinary lives before this behemoth called COVID-19 struck in our world was appreciated, even if in its nature lied a blatant dishonesty with everything surrounding wrestling.

The first months of 2020 were weird looking at them in retrospective. It seemed like wrestling was going to continue a route of mediocrity at least in the United States, while in Japan the new guard was slowly building itself to be recognized, while the present stars were still shining through the darkness of this world. In promotions like DDT, you had the likes of Konosuke Takeshita and Tetsuya Endo running things and making sure you remember their names while Chris Brookes and Yuki Ueno were slowly becoming more and more important.

In New Japan Pro Wrestling you still had the likes of Kazuchika Okada and Tetsuya Naito to remind you they were the biggest stars in Japanese wrestling, but names like Jay White and Will Ospreay were starting to break through the mold, specially Ospreay who started his transition to a Heavyweight wrestler. In All Japan Pro Wrestling, Kento Miyahara was kicking it and bringing back Zen Nihon to the conversation once again, and while we had all of this, there were projects to be made in the sphere of Joshi wrestling, like STARDOM building the myth of Utami Hayashishita, and Miyu Yamashita becoming the definitive Ace in Tokyo Joshi Pro Wrestling.

Among all of this, lied a promotion with enough ups and downs to build a video-essay of three hours. Its name was Pro Wrestling NOAH, and in 2020 they were starting a new era. Long lost were the days of Suzuki-gun's invasion and NOAH's attendance issues, as CyberFight bought the company and was starting to build it almost from scratch, bringing a new logo, a new image, and of course, new stars and some established ones that had a lot in the tank. NOAH was a mix of everything you could imagine, and in a certainly interesting fashion, they became the home for the shooters and hoopers of the wrestling world.

In 2017, no one knew if NOAH could continue running things, as the promotion was going through a big crisis. In the beginning of 2020, a new roster was brought to fruition. Alongside the drawing power of Keiji Muto, the likes of Kenoh, Kaito Kiyomiya, Masa Kitamiya, Kazushi Sakuraba, Takashi Sugiura, Hideki Suzuki, Katsuhiko Nakajima and Kazuyuki Fujita built a roster of absolute monsters with something to prove. After defeating the young Kiyomiya, Go Shiozaki, the last disciple of Mitsuharu Misawa, became the GHC Heavyweight Champion and started a new chapter.

To understand Shiozaki's struggle we need to go back to 2009, when Misawa received a back suplex and was left in the middle of the ring gasping for air. In the biggest irony of all, the man that subjected himself to the sickest bumps in history was taken down by a mere, simple thing. As Misawa tragically died, Shiozaki was given the crown and was expected to get to inhuman heights for a guy his age and with his experience. He was a NOAH-born wrestler, but the fans were merciless with him and didn't settle for less than the best. The pressure was massive, and Shiozaki basically left NOAH in pursue of different opportunities.

Contrary to his master, Shiozaki continued his story in All Japan, the place that saw the myth of Misawa be born and brought to the spotlight. After winning the Triple Crown, and becoming one of the best wrestlers Japanese wrestling had to offer, he then returned to NOAH in 2015/2016, amidst the Suzuki-gun invasion and the Sugiura-gun angle. Shiozaki promised to protect NOAH from their invaders, but Naomichi Marufuji (potentially, THE NOAH guy you may think of) didn't believe in Go's intentions and doubted his loyatly because he left the company where things got tough.

After years of working his way through the ranks of the company, Shiozaki was building a status deserving of more opportunities. He formed AXIZ, a tag team with Nakajima that was really popular in the company and helped him build a resume of worth seeing matches, giving the company a new feeling. NOAH was no longer the promotion you could ignore, as they were building something big in the hands of Shiozaki and Nakajima. As I said, Shiozaki entered 2020 defeating Kiyomiya for the GHC Title, and was waiting for his contender to arise. What he couldn't predict nor control was the situation he was going to get involved in.

Kazuyuki Fujita was his first challenger. Fujita was the last disciple of Antonio Inoki, and the last son of Inokism, which meant his style was leaning on insane strikes and claustrophobic holds. Fujita was as stiff as they come, and he had a lot of accolades to fear him, more so when you consider he was part of Sugiura-gun, the "bad motherfuckers" group by excellence. He didn't sell for nobody, he bumped on his shoulders, and he was a stubborn S.O.B. as learned from his master who carried his philosophy to the biggest Puroresu company in the world today, this being New Japan.

While this match's significance was already in the table, being a clash between two of the most stubborn, narcissistic, egostistical and disruptive philosophies of professional wrestling who ran the 2000s clashing with each other for dominance, longevity and prestige (and were also literally contrary to each other in every single aspect) something else happened. A thing that was only permitted in the dystopical landscape we were living.

NOAH was forced to run their 20th Anniversary show in an empty Korakuen Hall, and the Main Event of this evening was Fujita vs. Shiozaki. Keep in mind what I already said. This was a match between the last of a dying breed, because Misawa-ism and Inoki-ism are no longer living as they did before. Marufuji can teach the young wrestlers the "Misawa way" but he'll never be that, he'll never reach that status. The same goes for someone like Katsuyori Shibata. You can't teach spirit. It's something that comes with you. You can't teach passion. It's something that lives within you. You can't teach like Misawa or Inoki because it goes further. It's not only "Misawa vs. Inoki" but part of it is "Baba vs. Inoki".

Part of what made NOAH characteristic was its evolution of King's Road methodology. Like it or not, All Japan's DNA lives in NOAH's first steps in the wrestling world, and the first arc of the company lies heavy on the stories that couldn't end in AJPW. The "Misawa vs. Kobashi" series, the "Misawa vs. Kawada" series, even the idea of Jun Akiyama being crowned GHC Champion when he couldn't be a Triple Crown holder is also proof of this. Therefore, this match has all of this significance behind.

Its setting just amplifies it.

If you never watched this match during the pandemic, there's a chance you will not understand why this is one of the best matches you could see in your life. It's all about the atmosphere to me. When you write on paper "30-minute staredown" it surely does not sound as interesting as it actually is in the match. I think the unique nature of it helps for that complex idea to be accepted and embraced. There's no one watching this. No one has to go anywhere. We're all stuck in our homes, fearing the death of our loved ones and ourselves.

Maybe we're going through some tough shit even, therefore why should we care about "time", when the world just stopped and doesn't seem to run accordingly? Why is "time" an imperative necessity for us to enjoy this match, when its setting just tells the story more so than 100 camera shots and a 20-minute speech? This match is actually a great exercise in how to use the limitations bestowed upon you to build something magical. Everything about this match feels natural because it's the only thing that you can think of. It also helps you understand the weight this has for someone like Shiozaki, because there's also something really profound hidden. This is the last challenge of Go Shiozaki's career to prove he has everything needed to run NOAH and carry it like Misawa once did. It's sink or swim, and the biggest shark wants a bite of him, so he has to fight through. He has to prove to ourselves and HIMSELF he can go, and he can carry that weight. The finishing stretch of this match just speaks louder than words. The final Gowan Lariat takes down the beast, and helps Shiozaki build his myth once and for all.

Watch this match. It's the best match in the pandemic era BY FAR, and it's also the best match in 2020. I've said this in 2020 when I first watched this, and I continue to think the same in 2025. After five years, I can say Shiozaki's reign with the GHC Title was so legendary it brought NOAH to heights that it didn't reach for a long time. While the current NOAH fails to catch my interest and has sincerely lost the plot, there's always this reminder of what a great company they were in the beginning of the decade, and how that short two-year run was a gift to NOAH fans around the world, and the NOAH-born wrestlers who had a lot of ghosts from their past, haunting at them and reminding them of their condition. For Shiozaki, those ghosts have disappeared, and he can finally stand in the middle of the ring and shout: "I am NOAH."

[romisdiary]

Ryuji Hijikata vs. Yuki Ishikawa (AJPW Only My Royal Road 2004)

Oh shoot, they're SHOOTING.

The more I consume pro wrestling, the more I'm scared by the fact the matches that I like the most are the ones that feel insecure and unhealthy. The kind of matches that I wouldn't subject myself to do in any scenario. Gritty, dangerous matches that just feel illegal to watch have been my most profound pleasure in the last stage of my wrestling consumption, because watching a 480p bloodbath fills you with much more adrenaline than anything you would imagine.

I learned to love the chaotic nature of a match that obviously is not cooperative in any way, shape or form, because in it lies somewhat of a sincerity that I would love to see explored in the modern age. Of course, its sincerity exists as a reminder that the best wrestling comes from people that legitimately HATE each other, because hate is the universal and prime feeling any human can understand.

Through the magic of violence we can learn a lot about these two wrestlers, but the thing that helps you *get* this match is definitely the fact that this is, indeed, a shoot. It's 2004, and Keiji Muto continues to run AJPW. At this point, Muto's booking is definitely weird and spontaneous because he's just booking a guy to appear and do something. The quality of that "something" is mysterious yet intriguing. This is an example, because this is Muto booking two guys that DESPISE each other for the sake of it.

Well...not for the sake of it, these two have a long history together, because Yuki Ishikawa, who ran BATTLARTS from 1996 to 2001 at that point in time was facing Ryuji Hijikata, a former BATTLARTS trainee who saw comfort in Muto's All Japan. Hijikata left BATTLARTS in 2001, a year when the company was struggling and slowing down. So, in the year 2004, Ishikawa sends All Japan a fax detailing he wants to beat the shit out of that bitch Hijikata for leaving his holy ground.

That's how we got here. And that's how you can understand why a sub-five minute match is SO cool, because yes, that's the word you should use to refer to this. Even in the nature of a shoot, there are fundamentals being shown here. There's an interest in showing urgency and drive because while this is two guys beating the shit out of each other, it's more about Hijikata standing up against Ishikawa because he *knows* he deserves this beating. Therefore, he tries to gain the advantage at the beginning, kicking and throwing Ishikawa over the guardrail. Although Hijikata starts the match great, he just lost it because of his audacity.

Ishikawa gets up and starts responding. He throws Hijikata into the stands of Korakuen Hall and then gives him closed fists while grabbing a facelock. When the poor boy tries to get inside the ring, he's received by an insane Gamengiri that just takes him out for good, and busts his orbital bone. Blood starts gushing all over Hijikata's face, and from this moment on he fights with nothing but a glimpse of the boy he was three minutes ago. There's fire in his strikes and slaps, but Ishikawa is a gritty bastard and meets him with something better in every occasion. He pulls up multiple Gamengiris, and an insane amount of punches that just work to open that wound Hijikata has. The boy is no longer efficient in his offense, and Ishikawa just enjoys himself because this is a beating he was waiting for years to give. It's the weird yet interesting setting in which morality actually plays a part in building a story for a match, and for everything that it is worth, it's one of the best examples of it.

Hijikata deserves everything Ishikawa throws at him, but at the same time, the fact this match ends like it does open the door for several scenarios in which both participants have their little and petty victories. Hijikata can say he was not beaten by Ishikawa, but Ishikawa can say he beat Hijikata so hard and in so short time, the referee didn't allow him to continue doing this match. It doesn't matter in which side you are in this one, because you're technically winning at the end of the day, but my correct assumption would be you're on Ishikawa's side, because Ishikawa is fucking cool and so is this match.

[romisdiary]

KENNY OMEGA YOU FUCKING PSYCHO YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME WITH ALL THIS LORE

[romisdiary]

Kenny Omega vs. Gabe Kidd (NJPW/CMLL/AEW Wrestle Dynasty 2025)

Humanity.

What it means to bleed in pro wrestling? Is it just a nice detail to make the audience understand the intensity of a fight? Is it an essential part of wrestling to work and tell deeper stories? Is it unnecessary, or overly used to the point of exhaustion? Fuck no.

Bleeding in pro wrestling means accepting your humanity. You may be a wrestler, but you have emotions running through your body, manifesting by the way of indiscriminate violence and anger. Your strikes, your punches, even your holds have this strength behind built from whatever you feel in your heart. Whatever makes you human is what makes you go out and give your absolute all.

For Kenny Omega, his humanity shines through every step he takes, but he has fallen into what I like to call the "Kenny Omega Effect", where everything he does fails to reach his supposed loyal fans. People abandon him the second they don't get what they want from him. He's just a tool to most of his fans that needs to give them the "real graps" they're yearning for.

He has tried time and time to explain to his audience what truly hides behind this "aura" he carries: a shell of a man that is doomed to give his absolute best every single night because that's what's expected from him. His Cleaner persona made it clear with different interviews where Omega talked time and time about "losing his passion for wrestling" and how that made him better in his craft, as he saw the sport as work.

This same situation is happening with Konosuke Takeshita in AEW, where he has said "he stopped having fun a long time ago" thanks to the rhythm of the wrestling machine. Some of my favorite wrestlers have taken the time to expand on this idea. The amount of expectation fans build tends to be a cross they have to carry, and once they don't reach that level they're accustomed to, they're abandoned and forgotten.

The same thing that happened with Kenny and Takeshita is happening with New Japan Pro Wrestling. This company is expected to give excellence every single show, because they're the biggest promotion in Japan and have been for 40 years. People yearn for their golden era to come back. They don't care about the health of some wrestlers, or whatever goes on in their personal lives. To wrestling fans in general, wrestlers are tools that will be thrown once the wheels fall off.

For wrestling fans, the mere idea of a wrestler exists as a synonym to a toy. Toys are used. Toys are thrown around. Toys are interchangeable. Toys are not humans, therefore you're not losing anything of value when you change it. There's nothing material in losing a broken toy, but something emotional. You're losing your memories. You're losing part of who you are.

If you abandon a wrestler you once loved, did you love him or did you love your idea of him? That's a question I want to ask all Kenny Omega fans every time they say "I don't want Kota Ibushi or Elite lore in 2025 for Omega".

I can't believe we're entering the sixth year when Kenny tells the same story and nobody bats an eye: he's not a machine, neither a god. He's a human like you and me, he has flaws, sins and emotions running through his body. He's not your savior, or anyone's because the one thing we have learned throughout his career is that Kenny Omega is a flawed character.

Furthermore, he's bad with his relationships. He's bad with his friends. He has dropped his comrades over and over in their necks. Likewise, he has yearned for artificial gold and compensations in spite of a broken heart. He has seen himself reflected in the actions of other people and has decided to turn them into his rivals.

He's not a god of pro wrestling, as he proclaims himself to be. He just accepted his role as the guy that has to do IT, because nobody can. Nobody is Kenny Omega but himself. That's a burden he has to carry. That's what makes him continue wrestling at this level, and that's what makes him strive for more.

He left DDT in 2014 to become a bigger star, and he did with a broken heart yearning to be fixed. He left NJPW in 2019 to write a new chapter in his golden legacy as part of AEW, and even decided to leave his best friend and partner in Ibushi. He then returned to his old ways in 2021 by becoming a maniac obsessed with power and belts, and in 2023, after EVERYTHING he subjected himself to, his own body made him fear the other most human trait a wrestler has.

Death. Kenny feared death.

And even when facing death, he still wanted to give us his best. And people, instead of embracing him, ran to call him "washed" and done for. The same people that now are applauding him because of this masterpiece he gave with Kidd in the semi-main event of Wrestle Dynasty. A hypocritical behavior if I have ever seen one.

If blood is accepting your humanity in pro wrestling, and Kenny experienced a life-threatening disease, what's the one thing that he had to do the second he stepped foot in a ring for over a year and a half? Of course, bleed. And not in a pretty way. Kenny blades like he never did before to showcase part of his humanity to his fans around the globe. Even the ones that supposedly have his back, being the Japanese fans. Everyone can see the humanity in Omega, as he goes out to have his most emotional match in a long time, because of course, he's filled with anger and rage.

As he said in the post-match comments, he has to go through this hellhole completely alone because his partner (Ibushi) can't be present in the Dome. Therefore, Kenny taps into his killer instinct as a result of nobody controlling him and giving him the hand he needs. He doesn't do it because he likes it, or because he feeds from it. He does it because he has to. Because he's Kenny Omega, and is coming back to astronomical expectations.

Yet, while his Western fans praise Kenny over and over and surprisingly forget they were calling him "washed" years ago, the Japanese fans don't cheer for Omega, but for somebody who is also bleeding and has also experienced a near-death situation. For reasons that also have to do with emotions and anger.

The Japanese fans, or better said, the NJPW fans decide to take Kidd's side on this one because he represents their anguish and disdain with Kenny's attitude over the years, leaving the company that saw him rise to the top of the wrestling world with his friends by his side. When I said Kenny is a flawed individual and I said he had sins to atone for, this is exactly what I meant.

He abandoned this company in 2019 to build another, and New Japan never recovered from that blow, because we're talking about THE guy, and as everything goes on we realize Kenny was bigger than we thought at the time. For Japanese fans, Kenny was one of them, and they saw every step he took to become who he was. Then, he abandoned everything and everyone for a selfish goal. He thought the likes of Jay White and Will Ospreay could fill his shoes, but nobody could be Kenny Omega.

Nobody could reach his level of artistic prowess, and that made NJPW cold, as they experienced a change in guard. The old wrestlers were leaving, the Naitos and Tanahashis were aging, and the Young Lions didn't live to the expectations fans had. As 2024 arrived, NJPW felt more stale than ever with Will Ospreay and Kazuchika Okada leaving the company for AEW, and while they could still do joint shows, it seemed like something was off. The fans didn't like it, and started hating everything related to AEW because it reminded them of the thing they COULD have.

It was resentment. And that's the key word to understand why this match hits so hard.

Kenny and Kidd represent the same feeling of resentment. Omega resents his fans, and Kidd resents his rival because of what he did. This match is built around that idea, and for that and more, it feels like the exact type of match that'll make you fall in love with wrestling again. The emotions, the humanity, the blood, and the vulnerability shown by these men is something you'll not get somewhere else. This is what pro wrestling should be built around. Wrestlers showing their human side, and making us live their pain.

For that, and many other things, I consider this match to be one of the best Kenny Omega performances I've seen in my life, and the definitive Match of the Year.

(At least, at the date I'm writing this)

[romisdiary]

MAO vs. Shunma Katsumata (c) (DDT Into The Fight 2021)

It doesn't get more "late morning" than this one.

See, I'm not supposed to be writing this because I'm currently going through my most sincere wrestling burnout, due to the idea that the sport I love is losing itself for approval. This blog was supposed to just die, and I was supposed to stop doing this, but something awakened in me when I watched this match.

It's not something strong to make me leave this burned out state I'm talking about, but it's enough to make me write again. And of course is DDT. It always is, it always will be. This is my comfort wrestling company, the one that I wholeheartedly appreciate for everything they bring to the table and how unique they feel. They'll always have a place in my heart as the one company that fails to disappoint me.

In current wrestling, uniqueness is like pure water in the desert. It all feels so monotonous and soulless I can't seem to connect with anything, but this I did, and why is that you may be asking?

Well, there are two reasons: the main one being I love Shunma Katsumata, and the other one being I love deathmatch wrestling.

Of course, I can see you typing a question for me, and it could be something by the likes of "but I'm seeing LEGOS there, what do you mean deathmatch?" and to that I'll say 2020-2021 DDT was really experimental with how they would approach violence. DDT was always experimental (they wouldn't have their current reputation if not) but 2021 felt like their peak in terms of creativity.

It seems like giving Shunma the space and the place to give birth to these wacky yet dangerous ideas really pays off because this match feels violent, silly and fantastic.

You could say it does feel dramatic, am I right?

I think watching this match with my girlfriend at 2:00 AM made me realize a lot of things that I didn't take in consideration when analyzing Shunma as an innovator in violence and the way it's done.

It's fair to say I'm not making those mistakes again.

For everything that it's worth, and with how deathmatch wrestling feels more of an accessory than anything in big 2024 thanks to the likeness of GCW's mediocre work, I can't give anything but praise to this match. This is how you do fucked up wrestling.

You have the "empty-headed superstar" in MAO (who's REALLY dumb in this one, and I love him for that) but you have Shunma at his most chaotic attitude yet to come, and that's a lot to say. Shunma's 2021 was absolutely off the bats watching it in retrospective.

He emerged from a 2020 DDT who needed guys to step up, so people could watch pre-recorded shows in empty arenas, and Katsumata was one of those. His match with Yoshihiko still stands out to me as the most hardcore a wrestler felt in the modern era. Seeing a guy that I just met throwing himself at stuff felt sincere.

He was doing it for the love of the game, and well, this match with MAO is something like that but multiplied by 20x.

The type of spots you'll see in this one are the ones that'd make you question everything you thought was deathmatch wrestling. If you never escaped the GCW bubble, you'll feel like you just entered a different dimension, but don't let looks deceive you!

This match IS violent, and it feels distorted because of different moments, like MAO grabbing a LEGO brick and throwing it from the top rope to Shunma's lifeless body. The thing is, MAO doesn't throw the LEGO brick, but reveals a REAL brick that just shatters in Katsumata's belly (and maybe his dick, judging by his reaction)

Don't even get me started on the amount of toys that are used like legit weapons: because you'll never know how much going through a tea table hurts, but MAO and Shunma do, and for that you need to appreciate the hell they made themselves go through.

Sometimes, wrestling hits that spot where even if you're absolutely burned out on everything, and you want to disconnect yourself from any conversation related to it, you'll still feel inspired by it. And this match inspired me enough to bring back this blog that I did, to share my wrestling thoughts with you all.

Consider this a late Christmas gift.