The Inside Scoop On An INSANE WrestleMania 35 Weekend
Saturday was G1 Supercard day. I was shocked at the negativity levelled at the show in the aftermath. I had one of the greatest nights of my life.
I'm not the most expressive of wrestling fans, but I went apesh*t. A night of utter chaos and in-ring action of the highest quality, I dove right the f*ck into my heart and guts to show respect to the talents who commanded it throughout several physically committed performances.
The Ring of Honor stuff was mostly an overlong diversion, but I didn’t care. It was a night on which I refused to let negativity bog me down. I have followed New Japan Pro Wrestling for years, having fallen in love with the twisting, defensive finishing sequences and the artistry with which the space between moves is manoeuvred, the sheer depth of the wrestling craft, and the staunch commitment to long-term storytelling. I was determined to have this one, to reciprocate the reward of investment.
This felt like my hometown team in the biggest match of their life, and I didn’t care that they let too many daft goals in. They won. I won. Imagine complaining about a Lloris howler when you’ve just won the World Cup.
Will Ospreay found millimetres of space with which to just avoid breaking his neck in a dragon-chasing, white-hot opener. The Junior Heavyweights defied physics in a festival of brutal adrenaline. PCO's psychotic bump made me legit howl in fright and wonder. Hiroshi Tanahashi and Zack Sabre, Jr. wrestled a technical match drenched in pure class. Kota Ibushi and Tetsuya Naito meanwhile wrestled a brutal, high-octane match drenched in pure fire. Jay White entered a performance of exceptional character and range, deservedly headlining Madison Square Garden with a minor classic.
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