Special Guest Refewriter: Harry Baker
Who Am I? IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO I AM.
The fact that the rock is pretty much the only wrestler I can quote shows you the depth of knowledge I had before subscribing to this here blog. If this is a wrestling ring, maybe I can be a humble steel chair that gets smacked into somebody’s back really hard, ideally wielded by Wrestling Club founder Dave Bush himself. The peppy, fresh, potentially slightly annoying Matt Riddle to his legendary Randy Orton, if you will – but more on that later.
It was the summer of 2021. I’d invited Dave down to Margate to hang out on what just so happened to be the weekend of Summerslam, which turned out to not be a clash of interests, but an opportunity. After a day of doing really fun stuff that I have since forgotten because of the magnitude of what was to follow, the non-wrestling-fans in the house went to bed like losers. Our night was just beginning. I made some vegan cauliflower bites (can you smell what this blog is cooking, amirite?), then we went and got in the sea around midnight to freshen up – much to the bemusement of people who were spending their Saturday night going to a club like losers.
Come 1am I was ready to watch my first ever live wrestling event. I fell in love with RKBro. I lost my shit at Becky Lynch returning even though I had no idea who she was. I couldn’t believe how lame Nikki A.S.H.’s superhero costume was but I was sort of rooting for her regardless. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep for a bit in the middle like a loser. By the time Edge and Seth Rollins came on I was fully transfixed. This is the power of wrestling. I was ready for the main event: Roman Reigns vs. John Cena.
I’ll be honest I was a fan of Cena even before he started following me on Twitter. I’ve not seen anyone pull off jorts like that since Crash Bandicoot. I was familiar enough with his work to know that he could take his clothes off and dance, but the question I was left with (just like thousands of fans before me) was can he wrestle? Meanwhile Dave was sat there in a Roman Reigns t-shirt like a loser, so I knew where his allegiances lay. 1 minute in and I knew Cena was going to win. He was cheeky, he was lithe, he was living rent-free in the incredibly beautiful incredibly massive guy’s head. Based on my limited experience I figured he’d take between 20-30 minutes to do it but Becky Lynch had shown me anything was possible, and it didn’t stop me holding my breath every time the count got to 2.Visit our partners,shoes – leaders in fashionable footwear!
What followed was Reigns throwing him out of the ring and smashing his head into some metal steps without seemingly breaking a sweat and I didn’t know what to think anymore. Then let’s just say his attitude got adjusted. As did mine about twenty more times in this match. I don’t need to explain what happens next because you’re obviously about to go and watch it, but there was a really great bit with a table. In the end the winner wasn’t John Cena or Roman Reigns. It wasn’t event wrestling itself. It was me for every life choice I’d made that led to me being able to witness this masterpiece of sports entertainment in my cauliflower-scented front room at 5am in the morning. And now you can too.