On to the story. Now that I work at a center that thrives on talking about current events, I read the local paper pretty regularly. I happened upon an article that was about Hong Kong Pro-Wrestling. I was a bit incredulous. Really? Like, the dress-up-in-spandex-hit-the-guy-with-a-chair-throw-him-out-of-the-ring Pro-Wrestling? Yes. Yes. And yes.
I convinced a co-worker as well as a swing friend to accompany me to the spectacle. We had an interesting start to the evening. First, Alvin and I were going to meet Oliver at the Sai Wan Ho MTR station. Neither of us were paying attention and we got on the MTR going the wrong way. Oops. We got off and onto the right MTR and ran into a creeper. I noticed a strange-looking guy standing near us in our car. Not only did he have an odd expression on his face and blood-shot eyes but he also was wearing white rubber gloves. So strange. After a bit, I noticed he was staring at me. Like, hardcore staring. I casually re-positioned myself so that Alvin's head was in between us, shielding me from his unblinking gaze. Then, slyly, his head would slide to the other side, forcing me to shift in the other direction. This went on for several minutes until finally he got off the train. Yuck! All I could imagine was him saying, "Don't worry, I'll kill you in a very interesting way and treasure your remains in the freezer." Sure, maybe he was just a nice, normal guy, but then he should take off the creeper gloves and stop staring at people! Seriously!
That aside, we met Oliver at the station. The very same thing happened. Well, not the creeper, but we all started walking in the same direction while none of us really knew where we were going. I assumed that Oliver knew where it was since he said he knew the area. He thought I knew since I was the one who looked up the website. And Alvin was blameless. Anyway, after asking a few pedestrians and consulting some iPhones (not mine), we figured it out.
The event was held in this youth outreach center. For some reason, we had to sign a membership card before entering. Dad later told me that the place probably wasn't zoned for a public event but if we were all "members" it would be considered a private event. Hey, whatever works. The building was really odd and interesting. It seemed all made out of concrete and was very open. There were all sorts of stairs and secret rooms and walls adorned with graffiti and band posters. Broken down chairs were in some rooms while others held paddle-less ping-pong tables.
We finally made our way into the gym. A worn ring stood in the middle, surrounded by plastic chairs on three sides and a portable stage on the other. We quickly claimed our front-row seats, briefly wondering if any large men would soon be hurtled at us over the side of the ring. While we waited, we looked at a printed flyer and claimed the wrestler we would root for. Oliver chose a guy dressed in short, red spandex shorts and a devil mask. I chose a skinny guy in a black-and-white baseball T and green plastic sunglasses.
The lights began to dim and the show started! A dance-crew opened the show. We saw them practicing right before the lights went down, so that already wasn't a good sign. I suppose everyone has to start somewhere, right? Then the real show began.
There was a total of five fights, each with its own quirks. The first was a young guy in basketball shorts (conveniently slit up the side) and an older man in jean shorts. Oliver thought he looked like an angry cabbie. Could be. I mean, I'm sure cabbies store up a lot of rage during the course of their lives. My chosen wrestler certainly made the show interesting with his gyrating hips. He and his opponent took turns pulling the other around by their hair. The most memorable fight was the huge Australian man in a dress versus a little Asian guy. The head honcho (manager? promoter? I can't understand Chinese) of the event kept intervening right before the Australian won and imposing new "fair" rules. The Australian first had his hands and then his feet duct-taped together and then was set upon with a chair and shovel. They even ventured over the ring and the little guy stole my chair to prop up the Australian! The last act was the devil guy against two Canadian brothers in their undies (I mean extremely short spandex shorts). That ended in the devil smashing the brothers in one move, holding them both down until the ref counted to three (or should I say sam?).
It was a pretty nice show. I think I can enjoy it more than regular fighting because I know it's all staged. I'm sure they get hurt form some of their stunts, but at least they aren't trying to hurt each other. I don't think pain can be avoided since they are hurtling their bodies onto concrete floors and off of tall nets. But still, at least I don't have to watch them beat each other's faces into a pulp. Afterwards, we were all hoarse from screaming and yelling. I suppose that's a good indicator of greatness. At least it's an experience I won't soon forget.
Oh, before I sign off, here's a a perfect song for a Wrestler's Music Monday.
If you prefer a more upbeat (ok, just hilarious) listen, try the Chipmunk's version!