7/29/2011: It is not often I express joy. It is sentiment reserved at most for the mentally simple and the off-puttingly effeminate. But as I see the sun set and rise in the sky over and over, my smile grows. I watch the large clock in Ares’ American mansion spin ever forward. Every bell ringing brings another hour to death. That hour’s corpse becomes one more stone in my path to 30 July. I have had only words at my disposal thus far, and it angers me. The youngest and most foolish Ant of them all parades around in a rolling outhouse, staring at fields for some misguided inspiration. Even were our paths to cross before 30 July, Ares and Claudio tell me that violence is forbidden. There are different rules here in America. That is to say there are rules of any kind. This is not home, and this is not prime example of how we did settle affairs in past. I must not wring last short breaths from Apprentice Ant’s wispy neck. Not yet. But soon. Very soon.
To pass time quicker, I watch of history. Of Ants marching into the swamp of Reading to do battle. And I laugh. I see my friend Keita Yano take simplest technique and crush Green Ant’s arm to powder. I think of time ago to that day. I wait in halls to further cripple Gregory “Iron” in next fight. I remember silence, and then bursting doors and girlish screams. The Red Ant and The Soldier dragging their apprentice to car, while he screamed out to CHIKARA’s rotund doctor for help. I could see fear devour Green Ant that day. I knew he had no warrior heart.
Then Jakob shows me older film, from the dark ages before The BDK put its light upon CHIKARA. Another Ant, I have never known. In the same swamp of Reading. Hoisted high up by imbecile Chuck Taylor and brought down to his end. I don’t compliment easily, but I commend Chuck Taylor for that act. Without fear or doubt, he won his battle as warrior should. Then from curtains, emerges another Ant. This one, I know. Green Ant. Likely found the dead Ant a hero. Wanted to be that Ant. Soon, The Red Ant and The Soldier gave him what he wanted. He took the place of his fallen brother. And on 30 July, he meets same fate. In same swamp. But there will be no other Ant to pick him up or carry on his name. There will be but 2, and they will be gone soon enough.
Then, this. Where begins? New idol to you, American Ant. Man who inspired your stupid pilgrimage to bowels of USA. I know not of this man. But he believes in you, he say. Tell me, have you ever hit a someone with belief? Have you ever wrapped belief around a man’s neck and squeezed? No! So then I say what good is this fractured old man’s words to you? Will his infantile Christian god provide protection to you? Will the heinous flag you both drape yourself in carry you away just as I finally end this aggravation? Would he himself dare approach Tursas? I find all ends unlikely. It is more American tradition - presentations with no might to enforce. Empty words from an empty man to an empty Ant.
Make your peace, young Ant. I may loathe you and your kind, but I respect the process of death. Disperse possessions, share last meal with your closest allies, and ready yourself as never done prior. But never take eyes from time. As times brings me ever closer to what I seek, it pulls you away from what all you fight for. I make no promise as to the final state of your body form, but I will bring you death quickly if you submit. Expect from you that my words will not make heed in you. Expect from you worthless fight. Arms flailing against destiny much greater than even Tursas. Perhaps you will even bring your black magic steel bone to try to fight this end. But no magic or metal or merging of both can break destiny. Nor can they break Tursas.
Farewell to you, Green Ant. Tomorrow, you die.
Im namen der Bruderschaft,
7/28/2011: Sooooooo…I’m up to a Redbull count of 5 today and I wanna write a blog! A BLOG! I know i should probably hype up this weekend’s big time return of El Generico to CHIKARA, but the truth is, I ain’t in da mood - ya see we were left off CHIKARA`s big time midwest tour back in June, and while we ARE booked for these upcoming events, it’s in trios matches. So I wanna know what’s going on here? Is something up?
Don’t get me wrong - I am dying for the chance to knock Icarus’ teeth down his throat on Saturday in Reading. And the Spectral Envoy? The trio so many fans thought could win at KOT? I’m dying to take them out just to prove a point. I’m so excited for this weekend, I’ve got the shakes. But that might mean it’s time for Redbull # 6. What Big Magic is starting to wonder is - does someone not wanna see 3.0 get another title shot? Are tag teams afraid to face us? Maybe a certain championship team is a little worried about what happens when the Jag-man and I pick up three more points? I want competition, and I want some gold!
And maybe a short nap.
7/27/2011: Hello CHIKARA fans!
Johnny Kidd here. As my name might be new to some of you on the other side of the pond, I thought I’d take this opportunity to tell you a bit about myself.
I started as an amateur wrestler in 1974, when I had four years at Ampthill Amateur wrestling club in Bedfordshire. I was brought into professional wrestling by Ken Joyce, who was a former European Welterweight Wrestling champion (and later a promoter,) and he gave me my first pro job on one of his cards in Salisbury, Wiltshire in October of 1978. Then, I was given more work by Joint Promotions, who at the time were the biggest wrestling office in all of England, and had the television contract with ITV.
I was fortunate enough to appear 24 times on the “World of Sport” wrestling television programme. My first time on television was in 1981, and my last was the final show on British television in 1988 before wrestling was taken from the screens here in England. Although “World of Sport” continued, the wrestling portion of the programme was discontinued. My first televised matches were against Jim Breaks, Johnny Saint and Mick McManus. And as many CHIKARA fans will know, I am wrestling Johnny Saint on Saturday the 30th of July in Reading.
I’m looking forward to this, as not only will it be a chance to wrestle one of the finest wrestlers that Britain has ever produced, I get to wrestle in the United States for the very first time and hope to show the CHIKARA fans some of the skill and technique that British audiences know us for. Our style is quite different from the standard American fare.
Also it gives me the chance to renew my acquaintance with Mike Quackenbush for the first time since we met in Germany a couple of years ago, and spent a few hours chatting over our tea about wrestling both in England, and the USA. Mike I found to have a great feel for the British style of wrestling and there’s a little bit of Ken Joyce in what he does. Colt is much the same, but I see in him little traces of Rollerball. Having been in the ring with these men of class and calibre, I have no doubt we will give the famous fans of Philadelphia a match to remember. For me, the weekend of July 30th/31st can’t come quick enough…look forward to seeing you all there!
Yours in sport,
7/26/2011: Sometimes I wonder if play-by-play announcers in wrestling even understand what the meaning of the word “disgusting” is. It’s a low, visceral feeling that wells up through your gut into the back of your throat. That’s how I feel every time I hear someone say that you were a better Young Lions Cup champion than me, Hallowicked. It fuels my desire to destroy your legacy and replace it with my own that much more. Don’t worry though, there’s no need to get your mask all in a bunch and do a full-circle evaluation to figure out who had the greatest reign.
Back in 2002 Hallowicked, you had rookie intensity, but no mastery. Wasn’t your fault, though. CHIKARA was a different beast back then. The competition was thin and weak. You never had the talent to combat what I did when I held that Cup. Then after your cake walk was over, you spent your twilight years mired in meaningless feuds and losing treasured friends to the BDK. Not me, not Tim Donst! No, I took a last sip from that Cup and I travelled the world, crafted my ENGLISH SPEAKING interviews and put on some of the best matches this company has ever seen!
Once I’ve finally put you in your place, I’ll reserve a page for you in my memoir. Who wants to be forgotten about and replaced? But Woody! That’s not all is it? I’ve gone from the stunt double to the leading man, I’ve toured Osaka Pro, I’ve survived in a business that ate up my peers and spat ‘em out like watermelon seeds. Where’s Hydra? Or Lince Dorado? Or Amasis? They couldn’t hang with the best. Ask freakin’ Daniel Bryan! I am professional wrestling. I am professional wrestling’s finest and there’s no way for me to be more humble because there’s no words to describe how good I truly am! On the mic, in the ring I’m the best. Not you, Hallowicked. And not your little freak sidekick - “the most defending Young Lions Cup champ in history.” Gimme a break. I beat Frightmare when I was champ! Did he ever beat me?
If I wasn’t so mature at such a young age, you’d probably be getting under my skin Hallowicked. You pinned me in the Golden Dream match. You defeated me and my team back in Williamsport. Worst of all, you ambushed me and caused me to lose in just 4 seconds to some washed up nobody! And my scrapbook…my highly respected, pricey, long-serving, artistically innovative scrapbook. I can barely type the words out. I loved that scrapbook. That was my legacy you tried to rip to shreds.
You’re going to suffer, Hallowicked. I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to hit you where it really hurts. And then, once you’ve paid my price, I’m going to end this. You’ll wish you’d never entered that tournament back in 2002. When all is said and done, I will stand over top of you and drink from my Cup - I’ll drink to whatever is left of you to be scraped off the canvas.