SUMMER LIVING:Scotty the Hotty and Dunkan Disorderly were among the actors – sorry, wrestlers – at the appropriately named Summer Bash in Tallaght, writes BERNICE HARRISON
‘MAYBE WE’LL get one of the blood and sweat-catching seats,” says Harry, aged 12, when a trip to the American Wrestling Rampage (AWR) in the National Basketball Arena is mooted. “You know, the ones that are so near the ring, it’s flying all around you.” And just as I have a vision of myself in the front row, handbag on my lap in one of those see-through plastic rain macs so beloved of generations of Knock pilgrims, he says: “Nah, only joking, the wrestling’s fake. It should be a laugh, though.”
And it is, mostly.
On Wednesday night, around 500 people make it to Tallaght for the first in a week-long national AWR tour called, pretty aptly it turns out, the Summer Bash. There are just as many children as adults, more men than women, and the last time I was in a crowd who oohed and booed with such enthusiasm it was panto season.
World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) is the big daddy in this sport-o-tainment business. A global company, it stages wrestling extravaganzas that are part sport, part theatre. It controls wrestling live shows, on TV and film with a slew of licensing agreements that put its star wrestlers on everything from lunch boxes to posters. After that, there are several smaller independent tours, and this AWR tour is one of them.
“It’s usually guys who maybe were in the WWE or have been in the business for a good while,” explains 20-something John O’Brien from Balbriggan, who is here with his friend Andrew Kenny from Balbriggan. Anytime there’s wrestling on, they go. “It’s entertainment, same as watching a soap,” says O’Brien, who isn’t remotely bothered by the stage acting, pretend punches and fake throws, or that one or two of the wrestlers seem to be carrying a few extra kilograms (spandex is a very unforgiving fabric).
“It’s not about the guys with the most muscle, it’s the guys who entertain who are the most value,” adds Kenny – and he’s right.
Topping the card is slick American showman Rob Van Dam, something of a star in this world if the number of home-made “RVD” banners dotted among the crowd are anything to go by. There is Sabu, who according to the programme doesn’t answer to any other name, and Kid Ka$h and Scotty the Hotty, who, we can only hope, do.
And if whoever is writing the scripts for this year’s pantos don’t borrow the name Dunkan Disorderly for a character, they’re missing a trick.
Danielle Cafolla from Finglas is here with her three-year-old daughter Aisha to see her partner Paddy Morrow fight. He is a professional wrestler and trains children in the Fight Factory in Bray, Co Wicklow. He tours with the AWR under the not-exactly-upbeat name the Suicide Machine. Cafolla is worried. “A friend of his broke his back in the ring,” she says. “It can happen. They practise and choreograph the moves, but you never know.”
In the end, 25-year-old Morrow doesn’t win his match against M-Dogg 20 and Shawn Maxer – it is, the MC says, a three-way death match – but he is a huge favourite with the crowd, thanks to the way he hurls himself off the top rope (his nickname is “Born to Fly”) and onto his opponents. He’s as agile as any acrobat; Cafolla has a point.
Even though all the “fighters” obviously know how to fall, have been doing it for years (in some cases, as many as 20) and are trained professionals, there has to be some danger in being thrown at speed out of a raised wrestling ring, or having a 90kg of man muscle falling on top of you from a height.
By the second-last fight, Renee Dupree (the “French Phenom”) v X-Pack, it is all getting a bit samey. The cumulative power of all those fake throws, mock expressions of pain and suffering, and theatrical smackdowns is starting to wane.
Dupree, in his shiny red pants, and X-Pack, who looks like he could be a refugee from a veteran biker gang, seem to be going through the motions, and it is around this time that a little boy behind us, who appears to be about four, begins an insistent “can we go home now, daddy” campaign.
In the final match, Sabu is facing Rob Van Dam. They up the ante by bringing some extra ammunition into the ring: a fold-up chair and a trestle table. He ends the bout with a cut on his scalp, unsurprising as he is bashed on the head by the chair, and lands with a crash on the table, breaking it. However, these guys are so good at telegraphing each other’s moves, that a mid-size Band Aid will probably take care of the injury.
"See – there's blood," says a smiling John O'Brien, "much more entertaining than watching Emmerdale."
“It’s better than on TV,” says Morgan, aged 12, “though everything’s better live isn’t it?”
“Class,” says Harry, giving the evening the highest possible praise. And yes, in the end there was lot of sweat flying, great gobs of it. You pay extra to sit that close – we were glad we were up in the cheap seats.
Next stop on the AWR Summer Bash tour is tonight in Castlebar, Co Mayo. www.awrwrestling.com
