Hello, good afternoon, good evening, and welcome to the first ever Message From The Manor. The fools running The Indy Corner have finally seen fit to ask someone with knowledge, intelligence, and the demeanour fitting of a Lord to look at the independent wrestling scenes of the UK (and to a lesser extent, the US).
If you are reading this, I already know a few things about you. You are a fan of either well written prose or of the more niche avenues of wrestling. You possess within your breast a passion for an art form that few others will find beautiful or even interesting. You may even support particular wrestlers by attending shows, purchasing merchandise and cheering their performance within the ring, and (the most important thing of all), you are unreservedly, unrepentantly, and without a shadow of a doubt a complete and utter berk.
I mean this from the bottom of my heart. I detest you. I cannot stand the way that you bray for the people you aspire to, the way you insidiously judge those you watch, and those who share your passion. You are the lowest of the low, and the snidest of the snide. You are pathetic in every sense of the word, and there is a circle of hell waiting especially for you and people who talk during movies.
Those of you who know who I am will most likely have gained this knowledge from my time wrestling for Revolution Pro Wrestling, and over the coming columns, I will most likely talk about them in some detail. I might decide to enamour you with details of how I came to find myself in their company, what I have discovered about the wrestlers that I have met there, or even how James Castle manages to keep his ridiculous hair to stand up like he does (I will not take a column to explain this, the answer is hair spray in quantities that should be banned by EU regulations). For now though, I would like to just address one concern I have, social etiquette at an independent wrestling show.
You see, there’s a little promotion running out of Dorchester and Yeovil that I like to sojourn to called Ultimate Pro Wrestling (colloquially known as You-Pea-Dub by those simpletons from these rather antiquated areas). It was here that I most recently encountered the amazing phenomenon that I like to call “drunk morons”. It was a pleasant day out for the families and many fans who travelled to watch some British Wrestling. They were treated to the delights of watching yours truly soundly thrash Jake McCluskey and the aforementioned O-zone destroying James Castle (seriously, his hair is bad, and he should feel bad about it). They were also dazzled by the sights of watching Marty Scurll, Jonny Storm, and Joel Redman to name but a few.
Surely this could be considered a great night out to take your family or friends to be entertained, yet I feel that the enjoyment may have been marred just slightly by three absolute bastards who had decided to imbibe a few too many before the doors opened. Yes, I’m sure that the loud, obnoxious chants of “We’re from Weymouth”, or “Let’s go baby oil” roused much merriment from your “posse”, but I feel that perhaps the rest of the crowd would have enjoyed themselves slightly more had these ear-splitting chants been slightly less frequent.
What I am trying to say here is this: You all seem to desire British wrestling to be great again. The amount of people that I hear congratulating Insane Championship Wrestling for selling out a frankly ludicrously sized venue is heartening (despite them having the poor luck to come from Scotland), and I know the vast majority of you morons are welcoming and thoughtful to your fellow fan. To those that aren’t, I ask simply this…
Don’t attend shows.
I’m not even slightly joking.
If you put off but one person with your behaviour then you are a god-awful human being.
It’s not “banter”.
It’s not clever.
It’s not your right as a ticket-holder (after all, those people whose night you are ruining also paid)
It’s certainly not “enhancing the evening”.
Before you take it upon yourself to get bungalowed before watching a show, just remember that there may be children in the audience and act accordingly.
In fact, as a general rule, remember the motto of PROGRESS wrestling….
Don’t be a dick.