The Chronic Pain of Semi-Pro Wrestling

Master Blaster slams Draven Lawless at Chronic Pain V Saturday

Jackson Lowe (AKA Chas Roberts) would have you believe that the SSP Arena (King Cobra on Capitol Hill) holds half a million people. He’d also have you believe that the stage is 10 stories high (five feet) the ladder is solid steel (it’s aluminum) and Mr. Fitness has the physique of Mr. Universe (he doesn’t). Lowe is the frenzied announcer of Seattle Semi-Pro Wrestling. At Chronic Pain V, one of the organization’s two main events, Lowe’s exaggerations grow exponentially as the empties pile up. But hell, who cares. It’s all in good fun. And it’s all for the crowd.

Devious Silvertongue, AKA Nathaniel Pinzon, one of the founders, says that most of what happens on stage is determined by the crowd. The organization listens to blog posts and tries to play up wrestlers who have become fan favorites. SSP encourages participation in other ways as well: at Chronic Pain, the beverage of choice is almost exclusively cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Those cans are important. Throughout all the matches, a hail of shiny tall boys rain down on the competitors. Those beer cans speak volumes: a well-placed empty is more poignant than a hoot or a jeer — and much more satisfying. And at SSP events, the theatrics are just as important as the, ahem, wrestling.

Here’s a match: At Chronic Pain, Draven Lawless steps into the SSP Arena as the Pacific Middleweight champion. The challenger: Master Blaster, the air guitar superstar. Not of the traditional three-count-pin variety, their duel is a ladder match. The idea is simple: the title belt is looped around a pipe in the rafters. Whoever gets it, wins. There’s no tap out, no three-count pin — just the belt. At the outset, Blaster and Lawless push, pull, slap and body slam each other on stage until the fight spills into the crowd. Lawless slams Blaster’s head into a table (made of solid steel! Lowe screams), upending chairs and sending beer cans everywhere. The crowd roars and the fight returns to the stage. At the end, Blaster lays prone on the floor wheezing. Lawless pulls out a piece of plywood wrapped in barbwire. Setting it between two metal chairs (also solid steel), he drags Blaster to the ladder and tries tossing him over his shoulder onto the barbwire. Blaster reverses the maneuver, landing Lawless firmly on this back and sending the crowd into a frenzy. The tables turned, Blaster drags the ladder on top of Lawless, who lays motionless on the mat. Blaster launches off a chair, slamming Lawless where he lays underneath the ladder.

“Oh My God,” Lowe screams. “Slammed under a ladder of (and here the crowd joins him) solid steel!”

Lawless out, Blaster sets the ladder, ascends it and claims victory amidst a renewed volley of beer cans. He is the champion — at least until Bloodsport — the other main event held in October.

The running script continues May 7 at the Re-bar.

Topics: Pro Wrestling

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Bill Nack Saturday

There was a time — a time before cable — when horse racing and boxing were the two biggest sports in America. This halcyon era made these two beats the hottest at the sports desk, where writers like William Nack helped fuel their majesty. But despite Queen Elizabeth's presence at Churchill Downs for yesterday's Kentucky Derby, that majesty has faded in all but the most hallowed horse havens. Still, Street Sense's stretch rally under the guide of steely cajun Calvin "Bo-Rail" Borel, was breathtaking to witness. Chillaxin' at the back of the 20-horse pack for the majority of the 1-1/4 mile race, Street Sense made all but the pacesetter (and eventual runner-up) Hard Spun look as though they were standing still in his victorious gallop. Perhaps most flabbergasting was just what a clean trip Borel received en route to perfectly executing his late-race charge. Had he checked at all, Hard Spun wins that race, thus breaking my Beyer-like failure to pick Derby winners (I picked Hard Spun to win. Beyer, naturally, tapped Street Sense. I sill came out ahead on the day by cashing place and show bets on Hard Spun and picking Sky Conqueror in the Turf Classic. Ryan Kane put $700 on Street Sense's nose, thus pocketing $4,100 on one bet).

Departing Emerald Downs after the ninth race, with our pockets lined in green (a couple of m'homeys hit fat exactas), we proceeded to the greater White Center area for steak tacos and the De La Hoya-Mayweather title bout. But first, the Rockets: I realize Yao Ming ended up with 29 points, but his timid, fumbly, Nowitzki-esque first-half performance and paltry six rebounds are my Exhibits A and B as to why the Houston choked away a full seven game series to the Jazz. It's staggering to tally the amount of marquee players who've been shown the door in this year's first round: Kobe, T-Mac, Dirk, Yao, D-Wade, Carmelo, Iverson, Shaq, et. al. As far as young guns go, we're left with LeBron and a cloud of dust.

Okay, back to boxing, in what was billed as the fight of the decade, between an undefeated Mayweather and East L.A.'s Golden Boy. Before the fight, Floyd Mayweather Sr, who'd trained both fighters before getting shown the curb, announced that "blood was thicker than mud" in proclaiming his allegiance to his son. Yet after his son won a controversial split decision, Mayweather, in a spectacular moment of candor, said he felt De La Hoya won the fight. The 34-year-old was the fight's aggressor, yet failed to land more than a handful of clean punches against Mayweather, a defensive prodigy who counter-punched efficiently enough to narrowly prevail. Mayweather says he's going to retire. Bullshit. With a $30,000 per day gambling habit and an uninspired performance in a dull, overhyped fight, he'll be back for the megabucks rematch in eight or nine months. Mark my words. The sad thing is that this was supposed to be 21st Century boxing's answer to Hearns-Leonard or Hagler-Hearns. Sadly, it couldn't even come close to matching the excitement of Hagler-Leonard, a similarly overhyped, undercooked fight of two great fighters just out of their prime.

Topics: Horse Racing, NBA, and Pro Wrestling

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The Good Ship Regurgitania

Richard English has a superb essay on the drinking prowess of the beloved late pro wrestler Andre the Giant in the latest online edition of Modern Drunkard Magazine, which regales readers with many boozy tales, including the time when the 7'5" 500 lb. Giant drank 119 beers in one six-hour sitting and needed to consume two liters of vodka just to feel "warm and fuzzy" (of which English writes: "For most of us, two liters of vodka means a one-way ticket to Blackout Island aboard the good ship Regurgitania"). But the highlight of the piece is the second paragraph, which describes America's hero worship of famous drunks better than I could ever hope to do myself. "In addition to their wrist-raising abilities," English writes, "we deify great drinkers because they indulge their lust for intoxication while simultaneously operating at the peak of their powers in whatever their chosen profession. In other words, great drunks are also great writers, actors, athletes, scientists, statesmen, philosophers, and so on."

For any of you who are having second thoughts about going out drinking this weekend, this should get you off y'asses. Cheers!

Topics: Pro Wrestling

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