[DVDVR ROAD REPORT- XIW 12/14/2002]- PRESTON QUINN AND DIRTY MONEY BEAT THE DOGSHIT OUT OF EACH OTHER! KAMEO WEARS TIGHT THINGS! mulDOOMSTONE YELLS THINGS ABOUT NEIL SHARKEY'S MOM! and whole lot of the clusterfuck..... ----------------------
I was really drunk by the time I got home from this and for some reason Linux decided to hate me- such as whenever Konqueror is used at the same time as Mozilla, Mozilla will just disappear mysteriously, taking the idiotic rambling I had written about this wrestling card with it. Here, I am using assorted e-mails and hopefully it will fix my little problems so I can light this candle and get this show out of my head and onto your computing machine.
I will try to get all introspective and sensitive in this report, an added extra since it is a couple days late and I drank so much booze that I can't really remember any of the finishes. Cry with me. Laugh with me.
Your Backstory: Ryan is mulDOOMSTONE and he's my boy. Ryan is a freak and I dig him. We are both from the mean suburbs of Hampton Roads, VA- he from Virginia Beach, I from Chesapeake- and we have many shared experiences of the cretinous suburban wasteland that is most of the Former Tidewater Area. I usually talk to him once a week. This week we were trying to con the other into posting a really stupid music list by feigning that each had big lists in the making at work and the other could get the jump and post his first- sorta like he suckered me into that 100 Songs I'm Putting On Your Mix Tape I thought I snaked him on, when in actuallity, he was making a list of every band he ever saw while I was wasting time concocting a mix tape list. Of course, I tell him that I am making a 300 Best Bass Players List and he notes that he is working on a 500 Best Drum Solos list. Then the conversation degenerated into our feelings about jacking off to Doro Pesch or smoking weed with Filipinos in Virginia Beach or something. Between the two of us, we have four children. He will be at my house at 5:30 for the trip to Fredericksburg.
Bryan calls and he has heard that we are going to some indie wrestling. He asks if he can get a ride or follow us. I tell him that Satan Pro is bringing the GundanMobile and that we should have room for him. Brian is good to have on these roadtrips because he is a bit of the rakish womanizer who has really great stories of the chance meetings that he has with the ladies of the fair Capitol City- sorta like having Tom K in the car without the endless Nightmares/ wolfie D/Mod Squad stories. Thus we old bastards can live vicariously through his exploits. Pathetic really.... Brian is also not afraid to drink a lot so we all get along really well- as Satan Pro shows up with his Explorer and built-in sXe designated driver designation. A drunken Shartan Pro is a truly terrifying thought. I wonder if it would involve me bailing him out of jail for attempting to run over assorted middle class Gentiles with a cell phone or if it would be more of a weepy depressed drunken binge. I thank God for the power of the punk rock and ability to keep me from ever having to corrale a drunken mountain of a man called Satan Pro as he tries to dive like a ninja off the roof of a building.
Ryan shows up and I remember that I have some Magnum in our refrigerator and offer him the only quality Miller product and offer myself one and I accept my generous offer and it's really cold so it's actually drinkable. Mmmmmm. Ryan and my wife talk about how sick our sons have been this week and then Brian shows up and we opt to wait outside for the unusually untardy Satan Pro- just in time to save us from my two daughters who are re-enacting a Spinach Chin Roller Derby by running circles around us while smashing each other into random neighborhood cars parked in front of my house. We head over to the WaWa on Brook Rd for the painfully hideous Steel Reserve 221 in the 22 oz cans- Ryan's swill of choice and at manly 8.1 % alcohol, I have trouble faulting him. The problem with Steel Reserve is that if you get it REALLY cold, you can drink it without too much horrendous gagging pain, but after about 15 oz, you get to the angry, hellish part of the brew- where the alcohol has settled and gotten warm, mixing with the inferior hops and barley, forcing you to really feel that price you pay for getting so much booze for one dollar and nineteen cents. We decide to take the edge off the dreck we are imbibing by trying to think of appropriate Corporate Slogans for Steel Reserve. Ryan is first with the John Gielgud Voice-over and I can't remember his first one, it was something like "When you are only have $1.19 and you MUST get fucked up .... STEEEL RE-ZZZuhV....". It degenerated to my final offering, "When you tire of drinking from the dick of a goat.... STEEEL RE-ZZZuhV...."
So anyway, we are drinking as much as we can because we never get away from our familial commitments enough to ever be cool about getting drunk, so me and Ryan become like born again 15 year olds, with Brian adding booze to the fire. We get into the building and Kim tells us that it's gonna be a while and then Dave comes up to me and says, "Jesus Christ, I need a beer." We add this up to mean that we should go back down the road to the Fredericksburg WaWa and get a local version of their Steel Reserve. I buy a six of Milwaukee's Best because it was under 3 bucks and I'm the cheapest drunk on the motherfucking earth with three kids and Christmas right around the corner. Dave never actually came and had a beer with us so we drank all of it in his absence and most of us pour out a 22 to our still alive homies by peeing by the Explorer in the chilled night air. Then I hear the sound of bodyslams cross the field and decide to go on in while Ryan and Brian smoke and Satan Pro hangs out with them. I get inside and it's Sean Lei and Mike Booth taking it home. Dave comes over and says that I missed Chris Escobar get eliminated in the first two minutes. The 4-way was 7 minutes long and it is then that I realize that THIS is gonna be a clusterfuck. I've been to like 5 non-clusterfuck indie cards in a row and I figured we were due for one. It was the promoters first card ever so I should have figured on a clusterfuck. Raven drove all the way from Scottsville to see the four man tournament- none of which actually materialized, so I imagine he was far more pissed than we were. At least we were really drunk with a Designated Driver. Raven and his travelling companion didn't even have that luxury. Either way, here's what I can remember of the rest.
Magic vs Billy The Kid: I have no idea how this match came about. Billy The Kid screams a lot about Texas until Magic beats the life out of him and kills him with a Released LygerBomb. I await Magic returning to the friendly confines of the Westover hills Community Center where he is beloved by children and would have actually wrestled in a tournament for the belt.
The Doc/ Bill Bain vs Rob Eckos/ Damian Adams: These guys were all perfectly competent except they threw some of the worst lariats I've seen in a while. The rest was basic attempts by Doc and Bain to rile the 20 in attendence and I think we yelled a bunch of drunken stuff. It was fun.
Kameo vs Casey J. Austin: Kameo is a keeper. So on the Joshi 100. She can work and her punches and kickes look good and she kept Austin from getting lost for most of the match- though Austin has been in only 4 matches so far in her young career. Austin could develop into a decent big gal but it's waaaaaay early to tell. Word on the street is that the finish was a SHOOT~! so you want the tape from Tim. If so, I DEEPLY await the Kameo vs Kiley McLain (Austin's MENTOR) match. I think we spent most of the non-wrestling Kameo moments screaming "Love ME!" to Kameo but in the ring it was all business and she is more than just magnificent hinder in a too short dress. Kameo was with Sean Lei and FINALLY we get to make the drunk cracker at Richmond Coliseum yelling at Ric Flair-level "That one in the Miami Dolphins Jersey is the prettiest girl there" jokes. It was a good times........
Phil Brown vs Tommy Logan: Tommy Logan follows up his ungood match with Idol X by having a really good little match with Phil Brown. Dave reminded fourteen times between the last NWA-Va match and now that I have been slighting young Mr Brown because he is also a trainer at the VCW school and was also instrumental in training the exciting young surly punks like Mike Booth, Chris Escobar and the other guy who I didn't watch wrestle Greg Steel at that GWA. I tend to let my slavish fanboyism of Preston Quinn make it out that PQ is like Ultimo Dragon of Gloucester when actually PQ and Phil Brown are like an Ultimo Dragon Brothers of Gloucester that turn out these fabulous trainees. Either way, what i remember in my drunken haze is that this was pretty stiff and basic and well-worked. Both whipped out some powermoves and Brown barked at us to LOVE HIM and we were happy. It bodes well for these two on Jan 18 when they have a streetfight for the belt. Phil Brown is growing on me quite a bit.
Joey "Spank" Silva vs Robert Royal: I was totally wasted by this point but I remember being thoroughly torqued about Silva, having seen him JUST DIE for my pleasure on the Monumental Statmark Pimping tape from last month. This was a perfectly fine little match- as Royal refuses to suck when I see him wrestle these days and has worked his way into the "Oh Cool This Guy" level of my wrestling fandom. Silva seems like he is actually CRAZY but he ate no hot death this night because the match was a basic heel Royal and his RAT BASTARD manager Neil Sharkey whom we said unkind things to being heelish and tormenting the young Silva. Silva vs Sonjay Dutt is the new Virginia Indie Junior Dreammatch that Rick O'Brien needs to make happen already.
Greg Steel/ Idol X/ Mike Lynn vs Biggie Biggs/Josh Daniels/ Chino Martinez: I pimp Mike Lynn's elbow drop like a motherfucker to Raven so he- of course- doesn't do an elbow drop. I was seething with baffledness. Idol X is a legendary cult hero now for cult-like reasons and thus we pop like monkeys for him. Greg Steel is turning into the really good wrestler and I always look forward to tricked out old school stylings. Depsite all this, this was pretty haphazardly thrown together at the last moment, it seemed like. When did Chino Martinez turn evil? Why was there no third of 7 match with Robert Royal? WHY NO ELBOW DROP? Who was Raven's traveling companion? Why does Milwaukee's Best taste exactly like Miller High Life? Why was there no four man tournament?
Dirty Money vs Preston Quinn: Dirty Money and Quinn just beat the dogshit out of each other so it was great in that respect. Quinn has a bum shoulder so Money got in most of the offense and he wasn't afraid to lay it in and PQ wasn't afraid to lean into it like a man. Quinn selling 80% of the match is no giant loss because Quinn is great at selling and drawing you into the match, but you could tell he was feeling the shoulder and couldn't hit a lot of stuff and he was smart enough to not try shit he could couldn't pull off. Quinn did the fucking beautiful Cobra Clutch Trifecta Suplex which fucking rocked. Shenanigans ensue and the ending is a SHMOZZ~! and then everyone joins the forces of Evil and joins the Untouchables. It was less than your usual awe-inspiring healthy Preston Quinn match but still a good match considering. Dirty Money is really good (though he still needs another healthy heapin' of pants) and can make it look legit, which is all we really want in the end. Hopefully PQ will be semi-healthy for the Jan 18th show.
We hung around and talked to folks and then drove back and forced Brian to tell us sex stories while we got even somehow drunker. It was great. Maybe Ryan, Satan Pro, Raven and Brian and Raven's mystery friend can remember more details.
I think that even if the WWF was putting on the best tv they have ever done the ratings would still be falling. They were pulling phenomenal numbers for the longest time for the numbers to shrink a bit. Look at Survivor.