Flupke's Month in Wrestling: October 2023
ActWres girl'Z - Ice Ribbon - Marvelous - OZ Academy - Tokyo Joshi Pro
Front Matter
Each image used in this newsletter is linked to the Twitter account responsible for it: simply click through to bring up the original post. If you are a photographer whose image I have used here, and you do not grant me permission to reproduce your work, please let me know (Twitter: @FlupkeDiFlupke) and I will remove it. Thanks!
写真家さん、ここにイメージが写すことが許可しなければ聞いて下さって私は大至急除きます (ツイターの @FlupkeDiFlupke です)。ありがとうございます！
The Michelin Guide Star System
One star - Very good
cookingpro wrestling in its category.Two stars - Excellent
cookingpro wrestling, worth a detour.Three stars - Exceptional
cuisinepro wrestling, worthy of a special journey.
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ActWres girl’Z
The Royal (Natsumi Sumikawa & Kouki) vs. Asako Army (Asako Mia & Kira☆An)
24.09 / Shinkiba 1st Ring
The Korakuen Hall match between Great Asako and “Muscle” CHIAKI was a stellar example of a sub-genre of comedy wrestling where there’s no foil, just two reprobates being weird at one another until one of them can’t get up. On the way there, though, we were treated to two matches where Asako came up against grumpy straight women who were tired of her shit. Asako ripping off Kairi’s gimmick in a match featuring one of actual Kairi’s old tag team partners was a great hook, and Natsumi responded with one of her more urgent, pissed off performances to date, in spite of which Asako managed to actually raise her game and score a near-fall off a pin reversal. This was quite simply the best straight-laced ass-kicker in ActWres girl’Z vs the best nonsense merchant in ActWres girl’Z, and if that sounds like a winning formula to you then you can watch it for free above.
Natsumi Sumikawa & ACT vs. Mari & Ayano Irie
15.10 / Korakuen Hall
Whatever else was going on in this match, there’s one passage fairly late on that sums up the kind of form that Sumikawa and Irie have been in this year. Don’t tell President Sakaguchi, but I made a clip of it that you can watch here. I wrote last month about the concept of “Big Fights” and knowing one when you see one, and although this match as a whole goes nowhere near as hard as Sareee/Nakajima I’d go as far as to call this 40 second sequence a genuine example of Big Fight Feel. It’s the way that Sumikawa follows up the missed knee strike with an angry second attempt the moment she’s able to go back to the well, and the equal and opposing fury with which Irie kicks out of the subsequent pin attempt. They haven’t promoted these two as explicit one-on-one rivals before now but you can really feel it that tension in the way this whole thing comes together. Irie and Sumikawa are both oustanding breakout stars of AWG’s outstanding 2023, both nominal unit leaders, and both failed challengers to Aono’s crown, even if Sumikawa’s challenge came before Aono had actually laid claim to the belt. They’re leaders of the charge, in other words, and this sequence crystallises the competitive spirit that’s currently lighting up the top of the AWG card in a way that bears ongoing comparison to TJPW’s Princess Road arc (more on that story later!).
Miku Aono vs. Asahi
15.10 / Korakuen Hall
Speaking of Aono, this was maybe the definitive statement (so far far) of Aono as Ace, since it saw her defending the top prize in the promotion from a challenger who still carries a whiff of “interloper” status - Asahi may have debuted new entrance attire for this match but the rest of her gear was still created for Ice Ribbon. It also felt like Aono’s toughest defence to date, running to a minute shorter than the match against Misa Matsui but with much more of that time given over to domination by the challenger.
There’s something Miyu-like (there’s that comparison again!) in the way Aono approaches this match reactively, waiting to see what Asahi will throw at her, backing herself to hit back twice as hard when she gets a chance (there’s one brilliant passage where Aono boots Asahi hard in the ribs and Asahi continues to sell the damage even as she gets back on offence and gets firmly back on top). Difficulties arise for the champion when Asahi proves more than capable of hustling, limiting Aono’s opportunities for counter-attack to the bare minimum, but even then, with four defences now safely under her belt, you get the feeling that even when nothing else is going right for Aono she still backs herself to keep kicking out. And so Asahi finds herself in a position she’s never been in before, finding a singles title within her grasp but lacking the edge or the killer instinct to apply the finishing touches.
It means something, then, when Asahi gets her own super-finisher kick-out spot late into the finishing stretch, surviving a Styles Clash before Aono seals the victory with an Uranage. There’s a suggestion that Asahi has what it takes to do the things that Aono can do now, but just hasn’t had enough practice to be able to do them as consistently as the champion can. And what’s more, there’s a feeling that Asahi knows that Aono couldn’t always do these things - unlike most of the rest of the roster here, Asahi didn’t first encounter Aono as some untouchable AWG figurehead, but as a visiting mid-carder in Ice Ribbon). On the face of it, this match isn’t a million miles away from all the other defences in Aono’s entertaining reign, but there’s a subtle kind of irreverance to Asahi’s performance that makes it feel distinctly different from the more desperate displays put up by Irie and Matsui, and that kind of nuanced simplicity is the perfect fit for a promotion that’s slowly but surely re-building its mythos.
Michelin Guide Star Rating: ☆
Ice Ribbon
Hamuko Hoshi & Makoto vs. Yappy & AKARI vs. Misa Kagura & Sumika Yanagawa
26.08 / Korakuen Hall
Ice Ribbon remains broadly cursed. I was all set to write about how much I loved the tag match on this show between the smiling babyface team of Hikari Minami and Hinata and the mean, rude team of Dark Silueta and Tsukina Umino, but then the thing ended with Minami sustaining a bad arm injury and puking into a bucket in the middle of the ring, and Umino also announced her temporary withdrawal from competition a few weeks later. I’m also fairly sure that Kagura and Yanagawa’s stunning victory in this tag title three-way match was a flash in the pan-type thing, since they lost the belts a couple of months later in a time limit draw with Kaho Matsushita and Ibuki Hoshi, and at time of writing are not scheduled for a rematch, or quite possibly to appear in Ice Ribbon ever again.
But what a flash in the pan it was! This match was perfect evidence that the true spirit of Ice Ribbon can shine through anything. The first glimpse I got of that spirit here was the shot we were given of Kaho at ringside reacting to Hamuko’s wooooos, and the way that that smile continued as the wrestlers brawled into the crowd. I love watching Ice Ribbon seconds react to violence with broad smiles. From there, the match unfolds in a fast-paced flurry of quick transitions that call to mind the best Ice Ribbon tag matches, but what makes this one really stand up on its own two feet is the way they weave in a distinct identity for each of the teams - Hamuko and Makoto are the canny vets, Yappy and AKARI balance power with impressive athleticism (AKARI hits a Shining Wizard to a standing opponent at one point), and Misa and Sumika are the energetic underdogs who manage to consistently be on the same page. The match also gives us a chance to see each of these teams on top, working their own particular brand of magic, before 1111 manage to outfox AKARI and Yappy and quickly seize on the opportunity to write their names into the Ice Ribbon history books. What the next page of that particular compendium looks like remains anyone’s guess, but this was a whole load of fun while it lasted.
YuuRI vs. Ibuki Hoshi
26.08 / Korakuen Hall
When I wrote about “Big Fights” last month I wrote about how rare it is to find one in the wild, and how often wrestling gets by on tricks and shortcuts, and how that’s really no bad thing. This was a good example of a match that lacked proper Big Fight Feel but which pulled out all the stops to give the paying public the experience of a proper Big Fight. There’s no natural aura to this match-up, especially given that Ibuki’s rise to the position as successful title challenger could (unfairly) be explained away as a result of her having been one of the few Ice Ribbon originals to stay after the exodus, and YuuRI’s position on top could be explained in similar terms. But by the end of the 20 minutes here you do feel as though you’ve watched a match that’s been successfully engineered to make people sit up and take notice.
Part of that is down to the way the thing is structured. The match descriptor “they just went out there and hit each other” rarely appeals to me, because of that just - I’m forever trying to find subtleties when writing these reviews, details that go beyond what’s just there on the surface. But this felt like a match where that kind of description might be warranted - it was stripped back and heavyweight and intense, putting over both Ibuki’s aggression and YuuRI’s maturity as a fighter. There’s a moment late down the stretch where Ibuki attempts the Good Ibuning and you can tell that YuuRI has the move scouted, reversing it efficiently, but there’s also a sense that it’s not working as well as it might, because Ibuki is sore and tired and can’t transition quickly enough to catch her opponent off guard. There’s a heightened technical realism here but also a brutal kind of common sense.
Another of the issues I have with what we might called “they just killed each other” matches is that it can be hard in these matches to tell who’s winning at any given moment - Arisa Nakajima has been a long-term offender in this regard in my eyes, but I have just called one of her matches out as one of the highlights of the decade so far, so maybe I’m turning the corner on this style. In any case, that didn’t feel like a problem here - the contest felt like two equally-matched fighters burying themselves with a view towards restoring the prestige of this once-great title, and the finishing stretch felt like a sudden death scenario which was justifiably brought to a screeching halt via a sharp-looking Crucifix Bomb. The best ICE x Infinity title match I’ve personally seen in a long time, for what that’s worth.
Michelin Guide Star Rating: ☆
Marvelous
Mio Momono & Sumika Yanagawa vs. Tomoko Watanabe & Unagi Sayaka
24.09 / Sapporo ii-one Stadium
There’s a double-length episode in season two of The Bear which focuses with claustrophobic intensity on one disastrous Christmas Day at the Berzatto household. As a piece in the puzzle, the primary purpose of this episode is obviously to add further storyline depth to the characters who actually feature around the dinner table - Carmen, Natalie, Richie, Mikey, etc. But, for me at least, this episode had the added effect of making me think about other characters who aren’t shown on screen, but who have to do regular business with Carmen and co., and who are unwitting co-carriers of all the explosive baggage that unravels over the course of “Fishes”’ long, stressful hour. I was reminded of this episode when watching Sumika Yanagawa walk into Marvelous for the first time.
Marvelous in the Freshlive days - when Sakura Hirota, Pandita and Natsu Sumire showed up on a regular basis - always felt like a sitcom, so this was something of a return to form. Sumika is the classic ingénue foil that shows the Marvelous roster’s close-knit dysfunction for what it really is. There are two real comedic peaks to this match. First, the spot where Tomoko and Unagi load Mio and Sumika onto a trolley and spin them round and around, only to make themselves grotesquely dizzier than their apparent victims. Second, the sequence where Tomoko begs for mercy, claiming (I assume) that she can’t possibly hope to match Mio’s intensity, only to kick Mio in the shin once her guard is down. Mio sells this by screaming louder than she screamed during the final fall of the GAEAISM main event, before grabbing a spanner from under the ring and attempting to pay Tomoko back double. Referee Tommy has to drag Mio away and hold her back, Mio tantruming all the while.
Once exposed to the true chaos lurking beneath the all-smiles facade of the Marvelous roster, Sumika decides not to walk away but to throw herself in at the deep end. The final few minutes of the match see her fighting tooth-and-nail to pick up the win for her team, before Watanabe’s experience eventually proves decisive. There’s a really strong comic through-line to this whole thing - we start out emphasising Sumika’s outsider status (everyone demanding to see more of her towel-waving abilities) and we end with her coming out through the other side of innocence and going native. But the tone decisively shifts in these climactic passages and we end up with something more dramatic and desperate and jam-packed with fighting spirit. This was structurally ambitious, funny and viscerally satisfying - maybe not as much as “Fishes”, but more than you’d expect for a house show in Hokkaido at least.
Mabudachi Chuunibyou (Mio Momono & Kyuuri) vs. Magenta (Maria & Riko Kawahata)
26.10 / Shinkiba 1st Ring
If you were producing your own wrestling show, and your boss was away, you’d definitely include a match where the competitors were forced to pay you a compliment before every pin attempt, right? That was the premise of the second match of the card, and I was ready to declare it the outright highlight of this sophomore Mio Momono Produce spectacular, mainly off the back of the pure high school energy of Itsuki Aoki and Ayame Sasamura bullying Leo Isaka into announcing Mio as the cutest wrestler in all of joshi. But this main event cannot and will not be ignored. It starts out by reintroducing fans to Mabudachi Chuunibyou, the team whose manic, infantile energy hooked me on Marvelous in the first place, and then morphs into an all-kicking, all-screaming GAEAIST-type affair, belying all the in-ring progress that Mio and subsequent cohorts of Marvelous rookies have made since 2017. The action more than justifies an extended run-time which comes close to hitting the time limit, and the turn from chaotic fun into “serious” competition isn’t so all-consuming as to shut down the possibility of Kyuuri popping up on the ring apron and yelling through a megaphone into an opponent’s face. Fans who joined the Marvelous bandwagon before Mio’s first injury hiatus won’t need telling twice, but even if you’ve never watched Marvelous before you won’t know what you’re missing until you’ve tried this.
Michelin Guide Star Rating: ☆
OZ Academy
Mayumi Ozaki, Saori Anou & Kakeru vs. Chigusa Nagayo, Mio Momono & Tomoko Watanabe
22.10 / Yokohama Budokan
Let’s first look at this match through the lens of Mio Momono. 2023 has been a good year for matches which work in series: you can trace a solid line from Miyu’s defeat to Yuka in the Ittenyon main event to Mizuki’s capture of the title at Grand Princess, to Miyu’s performances in the Princess Cup and eventual victory at Wrestle Princess. The coalescing of AWG’s unit power rankings has been nothing if not one long continuously unfolding narrative, even allowing for weird detours like Asako Army. This match belongs to be thoughts of as part of the same thread as the match in which Ozaki took the AAAW title from Mio, obviously, but it’s also of a piece with the match in which Mio won that title in the first place. Here’s how I opened my review of that match:
There’s a shot during the introductions here that brings a tear to my eyes. Mio stands in the corner, visibly breathing heavily, and when the announcer reads out her name you can see fans throwing pink streamers into the ring for her. She’s their hero. That’s when the tears come. But then Nagashima gets more streamers, and you’re reminded that this is the house that GAEA built. Whatever prestige the AAAW Championship has comes more-or-less entirely off the back of its pre-Marvelous history, and the people that made that history are still here, both in the ring and in the crowd. Mio is not assured of this crowd’s undying love
What Mio achieved in that match was something that’s been on people’s lips for much of this year - she finished the story. Representing the present and future of Nagayoism, she took on a representative of Nagayoism’s illustrious past, and won. For one crowning moment, everything came together, and all was well. Then Mayumi Ozaki showed up. Here’s how I closed my review of that controversial first title defence:
on reflection this is precisely what you should expect when you unleash Mayumi Ozaki on an unsuspecting roster - not just all her experience but also the Zero Fucks Given attitude, which in wrestling (as in life) always serves as a convenient shortcut to getting dirty business done. Mio faced a range of challenges to get here, and the win over Nagashima felt like her cashing in on everything she’d learned, but even through the road to GAEAISM and beyond Mio never faced an outsider this hostile, this openly contemptuous of the principles that Mio wears on her sleeve in every match.
The defeat to Ozaki was a tragic turn for Mio’s championship arc to take, but given that we’ve now taken that turn it seems only right that the story would lead us to here, with Chigusa Nagayo exposed, her best soldiers defeated, chained by the wrist to her mortal enemy, forced to stand up for her own creation.
The pathos of Mio’s defeat is the highlight of this long, chaotic match, though it’s run close by some other memorable moments - Tomoko shaking off a disgusting barrage of chair shots to the head to murk Kakeru out of nowhere, the way Mio eliminates Saori by dropping her crotch-first onto a barbed wire-wrapped llama toy, the duelling Ozaki and Chigusa chants from the partisan crowd, the spot that finishes the whole thing. But it’s the moment of anguish on Mio’s face as she realises that - despite all her desire to make it through her first ever deathmatch victorious - she can’t get up from being powerbombed onto a barbed-wire board that comes the closest to evoking the emotional gold standard of that GAEAISM main event. On paper this is a very similar match to that main event, a big elimination tag built around an ideological fissure, but its execution was frustratingly lacking in comparison, in no small part because the action is designed to peak not around Mio Momono and Chihiro Hashimoto but around Chigusa Nagayo, who is 58 and has wrestled 10 pro matches this decade. That might be the wrong lens for this match, however - I think everyone would be happiest if they viewed this less as an attempt at an in-ring classic and more as a bloody and dramatic chapter in the decades-long story which has consistently provided Mio with her strongest motivations, and which is somehow still being written before our eyes.
Tokyo Joshi Pro
Free WiFi (Hikari Noa & Nao Kakuta) vs. ToYo Mates (Yuki Kamifuku & Mahiro Kiryu)
09.10 / Tokyo Tama Mirai Messe
There’s no other team they could have put up against Free WiFi in this tag title decider that I’ve have supported like I supported ToYo Mates. A day or two after the match was confirmed I listened to Kiryu’s theme on my headphones on the tram and tears came to my eyes at the thought of her winning her first title. But by the end of this I was satisfied - this was the right result, because there wasn’t a wrong result possible here.
The whole thing was very symmetrical, both in terms of the action - it’s notable that the commentator shouts “we still don’t know! we still don’t know” deep into the stretch - and in terms of the power dynamics of the teams. Both teams are fronted by a former International Princess champion, producing a clear junior-senior partner dynamic (even if Nao has been wrestling for more or less as long as Hikari has). both Hikari and Kamiyu elect to let their junior partners do the bulk of the work for this match, showing faith in less-decorated peers. A good third of the run-time of this match is given over to a hard-fought singles battle between Kakuta and Kiryu, with Hikari and Kamiyu dipping in to make exciting, impactful saves. There’s some really juicy differences at play here in terms of character dynamics - Nao and Hikari are cool mean girls whose styles are an obvious match, while Kamiyu and Kiryu are the sort of friends that need to be bonded together by chance if they’re to be bonded at all - but ultimately both these teams are babyface teams, and the longer this contest wore on the clearer I could see how much Nao wanted this and needed this victory too. I wasn’t as happy to see her lifting the pink belt as I would have been seeing Kiryu in the same pose, but I was happy.
TJPW is good at this sort of thing - at setting up a clear contender (Kiryu’s 2023 has been in its own way every bit as compelling as Miu Watanabe’s 2022 Princess Cup run) and then tilting the perspective so that you buy into the motivations of every character, not just the principle underdog. Kiryu’s salvo of strikes to Nao’s back could have been the climax of this match, but just because it wasn’t the decisive sequence doesn’t cheapen the effort she put into this match, or her 2023 as a whole. It’s just that Free WiFi wanted this every bit as much as she did, and desire is never a bad thing in a wrestling match. This was somewhat overshadowed by the two singles matches that came after it and may not make the cut when the final reckoning of TJPW’s 2023 is said and done, but it was elegantly constructed, and full of all the stuff that makes tag wrestling a compelling proposition - friendship, teamwork, shared hearts.
Michelin Guide Star Rating: ☆
Rika Tatsumi vs. Max the Impaler
09.10 / Tokyo Tama Mirai Messe
As was more or less expected for those in the know, the motif of Max as a monster dominating the local champion lasts for all of about 2-3 minutes here before the match takes a turn into asking us who the real monster is. One of Rika’s very first gambits in defence of her International Princess title is to turn on Miu Watanabe, Pom Harajuku and Wakana Uehara, seizing them as weapons and launching them into her opponent, each betrayal objectionable for its own special reason.
Rika gets clattered and thrown around and squished for a couple of minutes after this, but soon gets herself back into the contest when her Hip Attack proves effective. She follows this up with a Dragon screw which chops Max down to size, and then fires off a bunch more Hip Attacks. All of which is to say that Max’s physicality isn’t enough to either dominate Rika or to push her into a classic babyface fire comeback - she’s all Rika, blithely so, tactically focused, unfazed by what’s in front of her, chaining leg move after leg move the exact same way she did in her breakthrough victory over Yuka Sakazaki in 2021. From the moment she locks on the Figure Four you don’t feel like you’re watching an ingénue trying to climb an immovable mountain so much as a relatively even-keeled battle between two fighters with distinctive skill-sets, something much closer to a Chihiro Hashimoto match against Sareee or Mio Momono than to Max’s own TJPW debut against Pom.
That’s not to say they lose the obvious Monster Heel vs Local Hero thread here - Max wins the title with a single short-range lariat, after all - but throughout this match the obvious is made to dance with the counter-intuitive. Rika has the wherewithal to continue targeting the legs, Rika has the kind of devil-may-care attitude that allows her to slap Max in the face over and over to keep them locked in the Figure Four, but Max has the strength to make every hit count double. Max is forced to improvise a make-shift leg brace to finish the match, but their finishing move looks like it rearranges Rika’s molecular structure. There’s something of the suspension of disbelief of a Tsukushi vs Rina Yamashita match here (and those were always great matches), but with all the differences between the two fighters thrown into even higher contrast. Max has tended to be presented as an invulnerable spectacle in TJPW to date, and that reputation is part of what makes this match work as well as it does, but Max should also be commended for shifting things up here - their leg selling, their performance of vulnerability in general, was particularly effective.
Maybe more than anything, though, this match goes down as another big milestone in Rika’s superb year, taking what could have easily become a one-liner - Rika looks like an angel but has the soul of a demon - and turning it into a memorable title match with tailor-made psychology that’s easily one of the most interesting Monster Gaijin vs. Local Hero matches I’ve ever seen.
Michelin Guide Star Rating: ☆☆
Mizuki vs. Miyu Yamashita
09.10 / Tokyo Tama Mirai Messe
People have a way of framing TJPW main event booking like it’s withholding something from them - the right to see Itoh as champion or to see Mizuki extend her reign beyond an extremely normal 200 days and 3 defences. But I’m not only acting defensive or playing devil’s advocate when I say that I think TJPW main event booking is terribly, terribly generous. If you want to see new faces ascending quickly and belts being spaffed around all over the place, STARDOM is right there. What TJPW does is something quite different: it finds subtle differences in sameness, which in turn creates storyline depth, so long as you’re tuned in enough to find it.
You could look at Miyu Yamashita winning the Princess of Princess title for the fourth time as a return to the old, to the already-done, a cutting off of Mizuki’s reign before it got to reach top gear. Alternatively, you could look at the storytelling that’s followed Miyu around since April and see that Miyu beating Mizuki here doesn’t mean the same thing that Miyu beating Mizuki at Ittenyon 2022 meant, or even the same thing that Miyu beating Mizuki in this year’s Princess Cup meant. You could look back to the way that Miyu lost the belt the last time she lost it, as much a victim of her own complacency as of Shoko Nakajima’s sharpness, and to the way she seemed to be drifting out the picture through 2022 and 2023, following Itoh in the direction of international audiences, and then look at her performances through the summer and see that Miyu has fresh motivation now, that Miyu isn’t the same wrestler she was in 2022 let alone in 2017 when she first won the title.
It was a notable feature of Miyu’s title defences in that long second reign - and here an Ittenyon match against Itoh really springs to mind - that she would sit back and absorb pressure and wait for her opponent to make a mistake, at which point she would pounce and capitalise. It was this reactive, cagey approach that saw her fail to put Shoko away early in the first Grand Princess main event. Now, there’s a hunger to Miyu’s approach which speaks to that same unwillingness to cede ground to the new generation that Yuka spoke of when she won her first Princess Cup trophy last year. We have seen this match-up before, but we have not seen this match before - we’ve not seen a Mizuki who knows she has what it takes to win and defend the top prize in the company take on a Miyu who has all the hunger of an underdog challenger married to the battle-harded experience of someone who came through that Ittenyon match with Yuka and lived to tell the tale. We’ve not seen Mizuki take a Skull Kick and pop up from it to hit a Double Foot-Stomp to the back.
The narrative thread that led to Miyu & Yuka’s era-defining match at Ittenyon wasn’t going away just because we picked up a new narrative thread a couple of months later. The Princess Road exists as long as the performers that took us this far down that road are still around. Mizuki won the title in special circumstances but this challenge, this wall was always waiting for her. It just took Miyu realising she still wanted to be that wall to get us here. Mizuki pushed herself beyond anything we’ve seen from her here - that Cutie Special was properly iconic - but Mizuki has never beaten Miyu before, and Miyu wanted this win as badly as ever, so there was no reason to assume she wouldn’t be the favourite here. But it’s not the same thing we’ve seen a million times before, for the same reason you can’t step in the same river water twice. You add something new to something old and you don’t get something old, you get something new. Roll on 2024.
Michelin Guide Star Rating: ☆☆
Yuki Arai vs. Saki Akai
27.10 / Korakuen Hall
There was a supernova quality to the finishing stretch here. We’ve seen Saki Akai farewell tour matches, and we’ve seen matches where Yuki Arai kicks out at one because she’s full of fire and desperate to prove herself worthy as a pro wrestler. What we haven’t seen before is a match where one of these things gets multiplied by the other, and where you get the sense that Arai is fighting to stay in the match for as long as possible as much out of a reluctance to say goodbye as out of personal pride. A special match, and one which did a brilliant job of sidestepping the sense of diminished stakes you sometimes get when you know that one of the wrestlers involved won’t be in the business for much longer.
Michelin Guide Star Rating: ☆