Whitby, UK: a hotbed of Goths, fish and seaside entertainment. I have just spent a week there checking out the local scene and eating more fish than I would usually care to. Whilst in Whitby, I went to check out North-East wrestling promotion All Action Wrestling.
Performing to a capacity crowd of 150, Whitby Pavilion on Friday, All Action Wrestling put on a show for children of all ages (as long as that age is below 8 years). It seemed that I was one of the oldest people there (apart from a few mothers, and one loud-mouthed heckler at ring-side), and as I sat the second row with a pint in my hand, I noticed something: most of the people there were children, some of them had Rey Mysterio masks, some of them had John Cena t-shirts and caps... As soon as the announcer came out as said: ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls,” I knew I was in the wrong place. I’ve been to a few wrestling shows in my time, and this was the first that had the atmosphere of a kid’s party. Rather than hoping to witness some new up-and-coming talent, I decided at that point to think ‘fuck it’ and enjoy it with my tongue firmly embedded in my cheek. Wrestling works because of the suspension of disbelief, this could only work with a suspension of expectations... 2 pints... 3 pints...
I sat and waited with the missus for the event to start and realised how inappropriate the music was for such an event. Now, I don’t claim to be a wrestling promoter (I’m not), and I have so much respect for the people who put together live events, especially to a handful of people. What struck me was the music. Now, picture the scene: you’re a wrestling promoter, you want a small crowd to be into your show, you want to build up anticipation for the event. One of the ways you do this is through the music you play before the event. Maybe some rock music, or some rap music, or something edgy and loud, maybe... Instead, I had to endure Robbie William’s album of Big Band songs Swing When You’re Winning: I was mortified.
The announcer explained how the event would work. Essentially it was a knockout tournament between four wrestlers for the coveted Whitby Pavilion Trophy. The anticipation levels started to quiver a little bit as the announcer introduced the wrestlers. First out was American heel by the name of Heartthrob Robinson. Dressed in tight pink shorts, pink feather boa and waving an American flag, he came out doing the whole Rick Rude schtick telling the crowd how all the women loved him, etc, etc. Far from sharing the steroid-enhanced frame of Ravishing Rick, Heartthrob Robinson was quite skinny and pale. During his promo his (very bad) American accent would sometimes slip into Geordie... things were looking up. Next up representing England, was Tony Spitfire: the company’s top babyface. As far as I can tell, his selling point was that he was English, and this is the reason why the announcer told us to cheer for this guy... brilliant. We then had a generic Japanese mask wrestler, Shadow Phoenix, who I believe had a brief stint with ROH a few years ago. Finally, representing “the rest of the world” was “Bad News” AJ Anderson. Anderson was dressed in black, with Ultimate Warrior face paint, and though combined the names of two of TNA’s top wrestlers, lacked the talent of either.
The first match was between Tony Spitfire and Heartthrob Robinson. This was not a technical wrestler’s dream match by a long shot. With the most advanced moves being arm-drag takedowns and Body Slams. The match was structured using the ever popular Wrestling Booking for Dummies. The match started with Spitfire getting momentum, then Heartthrob did something heelish and cheated while the ref’s back was turned, he then dominated for a bit and just when it looked like he was going to get the win, Spitfire dug deep and won the match with a clear win. What was most interesting about this match was that throughout, Tony Spitfire was getting the crowd to chant “Eng-er-land, Eng-er-land” – it was some very sophisticated stuff, I think you’ll agree.
With the best guy going through to finals, we had a match between AJ Anderson and Shadow Phoenix. With the, almost parody-esque style of the last match, I didn’t hold my breath for anything of quality, and prepared myself to continue basking in the stupidity of it all. As the wrestlers came in, Anderson let us know exactly what he thought of us, saying to the parents in the crowd that “your kids are so ugly they had to wear those masks” (referring to the aforementioned mini-Mysterios in attendance). I was actually surprised by the quality of the match-up. Both of these guys could actually go, and though they looked sloppy around the edges, there were some pretty decent moves being pulled off: a few Enziguris, a couple of powerbomb variations, a hurricanrana, a senton and a moonsault were all in there. The match was again booked using the Wrestling Booking for Dummies text and this time saw Anderson win... through cheating. What a dastardly sod!
Next up was a “bonus match” between Max Heat (representing England) and Ewan McCloud (representing Scotland). Heat had a quick Luchador style and McCloud was a bit like Sgt. Slaughter. Essentially, it was power versus agility, and England versus Scotland. There were calls by the announcer to get behind Max, as he heckled McCloud for his hairy back. All hilarious stuff, I can assure you. The chants for “Eng-er-land” were called for and as the kids started to recognise Max’s style, they started the all too familiar chants of “6-1-9”... With Max winning the match, McCloud went for a post-match beatdown, only to be scuppered by a floppy looking 619... the kids loved it.
Finally, we had our main event: “Bad News” Anderson versus Tony Spitfire. For some reason, Anderson was now representing America and Spitfire said something about American getting us into wars we don’t want to be in (very topical...) and took issue with the fact that Anderson had cheated in his last match, urging the crowd to chant “cheat, cheat, cheat...” The match was pretty basic, as were the moves. They left the ring and fought around the outside of the ring for a bit. There was a ref bump and a run-in by the other heels, and the beat on Spitfire. The ref awoke, but Spitfire dug down and managed to get the win. England won! Against insurmountable odds, England won! “Eng-er-land, Eng-er-land...”
On the whole, this was an event for kids. I’m sure as an eight year old, I would have been enthralled, but for the older fan the wrestling and the storylines were very simplistic. This isn’t a criticism, it is merely stating fact. The company and its audience represent quite strongly the demo shift in WWE. But the kids are the ones buying the merchandise and paying the promotions bills, so hats off to them. The event wasn’t for me, but I’d certainly recommend it to families.
I'm a big fan of local wrestling. Nothing beats the being a few feet away from some indie wrestling, where even the most obscure chants can catch on. 
