September’s matches of the month is one of the more diverse selections I’ve put together recently. We’ve got everything from rookies doing their pro-test to mask matches in Arena Mexico. There is even one match that happened in August! I never claim these things are definitive, but I would like to imagine this one has something for everyone, and hopefully, you’ll discover at least one match you haven’t seen. Enjoy!
Mei Suruga vs Emi Sakura, To The Future! (31/8/24), Gatoh Move
What’s most noticeable about this match is that it’s remarkably simple. I don’t mean that as an insult. If anything, it’s the opposite. With Gatoh Move returning to Korakuen Hall for the first time in eight years, the temptation must have been there to go for an epic. It’s not like Emi and Mei couldn’t do it. However, whether it would be a good idea is a different question. My least favourite era of ChocoPro was when the match lengths started to sneak up, and they let the freedom go to their heads. I appreciate this is personal taste, but for me, Gatoh Move has always been at its best when it has embraced its size.
Stripping away any delusions of grandeur allowed this match to be about the important stuff – master vs student, old-guard vs young, Mei Suruga vs Emi Sakura. Suruga was the embodiment of youthful exuberance, swamped in streamers as she made her entrance and practically buzzing with excitement. In contrast, Sakura radiated powerful experience, her new final boss gear looking badass as hell. It would be ignoring a lot of history to claim that ChocoPro has been the story of Emi vs Mei, but there’s no doubt you could shape it that way. Turn it into the tale of the new face rising to rival the old.
The match played into those personas, Mei prancing around the place, relying on flurries of offence while Sakura went for the big hits. However, it wasn’t all more of the same, as we saw some of what Suruga has learned over the last few months come to the fore. Early on, she focused on twisting her trainer up, showing a ruthless edge as she took advantage of Emi’s lack of flexibility. As Akki, who was on commentary, said, she hasn’t been able to bend for fifteen years. However, that was never going to be how this match was won. There it came down to Mei’s willingness to throw caution to the wind, clambering up onto the ring post to hit a double stomp or, in what might not have been the winning move but certainly was the beginning of the end, hitting a Super variation of the Propeller Twist. She couldn’t rival Emi blow-for-blow, but she could do things Sakura hadn’t been able to in years, and that was her route to success.
Not that this was simply the Mei show. Emi Sakura deserves just as much credit. Twenty-nine years into her career, Sakura has such confidence in the ring, and it’s an honour to watch her work. Early on, she tried to match Mei’s antics, and when that didn’t work, she brute-forced it. Then, when she saw everything slipping away, that huge Propeller Twist knocking the last of the air from her lungs, she desperately swung for La Magistral, hoping that she could bundle up the future and keep it in her pocket for a little longer. It didn’t work, but it was a near-perfect torch-passing performance, as she simply ran out of ways to stop Mei from skipping off with it into the distance.
Not that I think this is the end of Emi Sakura. It better bloody not be. If she wants to come back six months from now and put Suruga in her place, I will cheer her on as she does so. This match was proof, as if we needed it, that she has so much left to give, and while ChocoPro seems to have been placed in the hands of its Ace, you better not forget who built the foundations she stands on. Mei might be the future, but don’t you dare call Emi the past.
Emi Sakura vs Kaho Hiromi, ChocoPro #392 (1/9/24), ChocoPro
Is there a more Emi Sakura way to get over losing a title than by setting up a match where she’s free to bully a 10-year-old? What made the bullying particularly brilliant was that Sakura went about it in the most 10-year-old way possible. Sure, part of it is that she’s bigger and stronger than wee Kaho, but the real sting came from her constant mimicking of the youngest member of the ChocoPro roster. She copied Kaho’s line delivery, poses and air of charming wee menace perfectly. It was brilliantly petty and about as pure a dose of Sakura as you’ll see.
And yet, it never seems to bother Hiromi. Sure, there was the occasional hands on the hips or flicker of annoyance from the youngster, but it mostly slid right off her back. Kaho is blessed with the confidence of someone too young and full of joy to have had her self-esteem chipped away at by the world, and as far as she’s concerned, Emi’s mocking is all just part of the game. If anything, she used it as motivation to continue to run rings around her new boss. She might be young in her career, but Kaho is already threatening to have the better of Sakura, as it was only really Emi’s superior strength that eventually allowed her to put the youngster away.
Away from the kayfabe of it all, matches like this give you an insight into why Emi Sakura is the trainer she is. In fact, all of her interactions with Kaho do. She doesn’t dumb things down for her young trainee. Of course, in the ring, there are things she can’t do yet, but Sakura is more than happy to give her a bit of rope, letting her show that bubbly personality and giving her opportunities to put one over on the grown-ups now and then. Similarly, when you watch her chatting away with Kaho on a livestream, it’s more like two old friends, Sakura peppering the youngster with questions and letting her lead the conversation. It’s a talent that brings out the best of the wee ones and, most importantly, allows them to wrestle like the kids they are. It also creates some joyous matches, with this being the perfect example of that.
Team Eccentric (Chigusa Nagayo & Sakura Hirota) vs Takumi Iroha & Unagi Sayaka, The Lord Is Crazy ~ When I Hear The Words Summer Festival My Blood Boils (2/9/24), Unagi Sayaka Produce
I’ve never sat down to write about what Team Eccentric mean to me. In the depths of the pandemic, when I was living by myself and, quite frankly, going through some shit, I stumbled upon the playlist of their shenanigans on the GAEAISM Youtube channel. It was everything I needed at that time. Yes, it’s nonsense, but it’s nonsense from two exceptional wrestlers who can deliver a joke and go in the ring. I returned to that playlist at least once a week over the next few months, and it never failed to cheer me up.
On the day of this show, I wasn’t quite in the depths of pandemic hell, but I was down. I’d spent the day before hungover and trying to deal with a leak that had suddenly sprung up, leading to a man knocking a hole in my wall and charging me several hundred pounds for the pleasure (he did also fix the leak, to be fair to him). Of course, as someone who has made worrying one of my primary activities, fixing the pipe wasn’t enough to soothe me. I spent the rest of the day (and the next few) fretting about permanent damage or the whole thing somehow contriving to explode in a flood that would wreck all in its path. It doesn’t matter that this building has probably stood for around 100 years. I had convinced myself a bit of water would signal the end of it.
Enter Team Eccentric.
And this match isn’t on the level of the old Team Eccentric. It was a one-and-done on a Unagi produce show featuring a Chigusa Nagayo who is technically retired (although I’d argue she was moving better than she had in years and threw a few nice strikes at Iroha, so I still have my doubts about that). However, it was still pure comfort food. From their ridiculous outfits to the dance to Hirota realising the best way to use Chig in 2024 might be to shove her into people. It was silly and fluffy and featured one of the greatest wrestlers of all time happily portraying herself as the butt of more than one joke. In other words, it was, once again, exactly what I needed.
What makes it extra special is that it all feels so unlikely. Hirota found herself in GAEA of all places – a company that literally had a documentary made about their brutal training methods – and built a nearly thirty-year career of pure nonsense off the back of it. While doing so, she has consistently succeeded in dragging Nagoya into her tomfoolery. It makes more sense now when Chig is beaten up and can’t move like she once did, but that hasn’t always been the case. Before Hirota had even debuted, Nagayo seemed to have a strange fascination with this timid wee rookie, picking her out for special attention on some of her earliest appearances. Now, all these years later, nothing has changed. You only have to listen to Chig commentate on a Hirota match, still chuckling at the same old spots no matter how often she’s seen them. It’s beautiful, but that particular kind of beauty that is cloaked in kancho spots and Hirota getting an elastic band fired into her crotch. It certainly makes me happy, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.
Sareee & Mayu Iwatani vs Chihiro Hashimoto & VENY, Sareee-ism Volume V (2/9/24), Sareee Produce Show
Often, these big all-star tags look better on paper than in reality. While you can understand the desire to throw great workers at each other and see what happens, wrestling has proven time after time that it isn’t always the tap-in it appears. It’s something Sareee-ism has even discovered before, with matches like KAIRI & Sareee vs Arisa Nakajima & Takumi Iroha falling short (at least in my opinion) of their massive potential. I’m not trying to claim it was awful, but great meals come from ingredients that work together, and not every outstanding worker compliments another.
Thankfully, this match was an example of when those ingredients mesh perfectly. Some of those pairings were already known. Big Hash vs Sareee is one of the easier match-ups around (especially now Arisa Nakajima is retired), and having them clash heads is a pretty safe bet. Sareee has a predilection towards self-indulgence, which Hashimoto is the perfect person to blunt as she grounds her into the mat or throws her across the ring. Not to mention, when they start hitting each other, those blows have a tendency to come in hard and fast. Similarly, when you provide VENY with a challenge worth caring about, you know she’ll bring it. With the crowd leaning towards the dream team of Sareee and Mayu Iwatani, she indulged her petty side, dishing out some nasty boots to her downed opponents before matching Sareee beat-for-beat in the final act. Somehow, those two have never had a singles match, which feels like a mistake companies should be racing to rectify.
The wildcard ingredient was the Mayu Iwatani of it all. We all know her brilliance, and it’s always a treat to see her outside the stifling confines of modern Stardom, but you never know how these things will come together. In a year where she’s had a lot of ‘dream matches’, the only one I’ve felt clicked was curtailed by Tsukasa Fujimoto getting injured. Thankfully, this time, it all came together brilliantly. While I think Mayu is an underrated offensive wrestler (see her dismantling of Saki Kashima on the empty arena Stardom show for one of my favourite examples), her real talent has always been as a bump freak. Well, when you give Big Hash someone willing to eat up those throws and big hits, she’ll have a field day. Mayu spent quite a lot of time getting folded up like a xylophone, which is always a delight to revel in.
Despite all that, I still don’t think this quite hit its full potential. However, its full potential is the best match of the year, so that’s hardly an insult. Instead, they delivered a blast of action that barrelled along at a hell of a pace before being brought to an abrupt end with the dull thud of a brilliantly sickening headbutt. It was what I wanted from them, and while they can probably top it, I am more than happy with what we have for now.
Minoru Suzuki vs Katsuyori Shibata, TAKAYAMANIA EMPIRE 3 (3/9/24), Takayama Produce Show
Truthfully, taking this solely as a match, I didn’t love it. I understand why Suzuki and Shibata went that way. They are two stubborn bastards, refusing to budge an inch as they chopped the hell out of each other. I don’t think it’s out of character for them to have a dick-measuring contest, and if we’re stepping outside of kayfabe, neither man is what he once was. It’s much easier to wander around Korakuen exchanging chops than try to tap back into that old magic. Sadly, it all just feels so route one. How many of these extended strike exchanges have we seen now? Sure, they can be fun, and even this had its moments, but it’s all surface. When you’ve got two wrestlers with the talent to do so much more than this, it was underwhelming to see them stick doggedly to the path of the least resistance.
So why does it make the list? Because everything around that chop battle was incredible. It started with Shibata returning to Korakuen for the first time since 2017 when he and Togi Makabe lost a tag match to Kazuchika Okada and YOSHI-HASHI. Back then, he would have never guessed that it would be so long before he wrestled in that room again, never mind everything else he went through over those seven years. When he heard that crowd, you could see the emotion on his face. Shibata has long been known for his stoicism, but his attempts to hold back his tears were ultimately fruitless. While he might not be the wrestler he once was, fuck am I glad that we get to see a seemingly healthy Shibata back doing what he loves.
Even that paled when placed next to our other return to Korakuen Hall as Yoshihiro Takayama came out in his wheelchair to close the show. His presence alone was enough to make this memorable, but they then rang the bell for a match between him and Suzuki. Watching Takayama strain in his chair, his eyes filling with tears, as Suzuki unleashed a torrent of abuse in his direction, challenging him to stand up and fight, was heartbreaking, as was MiSu’s promise to wait for the day when he can meet his old friend in the ring. However, alongside the pain was something beautiful. It was a display of love. The love between two friends who know that day will probably never come but will do everything they can to will it into existence. Suzuki has never faltered in his efforts to aid Takayama since his injury, and in a Japanese wrestling world where stoicism is praised above all else, watching these hard old bastards publicly show affection for each other as tears slide down their faces is quietly important. Next to that, what I think about a match is irrelevant. This was so much more than that.
Mio Momono vs Riko Kawahata vs Maria, Marvelous (9/9/24), Marvelous
I’ve already spoken at length about Mio Momono’s role in this match, so it seems only fair to use this to talk about Maria and Riko Kawahata. They’ve had a fantastic year as Magenta, but that always comes with the side effect of not having as many chances to shine as individuals. This was an opportunity for them to show how far they’ve come.
That progression stood out most in Kawahata, who was fantastic. It’s a small thing, but she carried herself like someone who believed she could win. Even in that first section with Mio, where she ultimately lost, there was a sense that Riko felt like this was her opportunity, as she brought the fight to Momono and tried to force the upset. It’s not only showing in her confidence but in how she wrestles, too. Those kicks have gradually improved since she arrived in Marvelous, and she’s much more aggressive on offence than she used to be. There was a crunch to her wrestling, which wasn’t there before and has been pivotal to her recent improvement. It used to feel like there was a playing card’s width between her and Maria, but I’d argue she’s now pulled ahead.
Which I mean more as a compliment to Kawahata than I do an insult to Maria. While she watched her partner get the final win, this was still a big moment for her. For the first time in her career, she beat Momono. It comes with the caveats of Mio having already wrestled a match against Kawahata, but it still means something. The beauty of the hierarchy installed in most Japanese promotions is that regardless of circumstances, beating your senior is always of value. Besides, Maria played this perfectly. It was a war of attrition for her as she looked to survive Momono’s flurries and take advantage of her tiredness to start tightening the screw with that impressive collection of submissions. She slowly wore Mio down, continuing the plan through various escapes and eventually catching her in a situation where there was no way out. It’s always satisfying to see someone win by using what they’re good at, and that’s what Maria did.
I’m not about to start calling for the end of Magenta as a team – they’re too good for that to be the plan – but this was a reminder that Kawahata and Maria have strong futures ahead of them as individuals. Neither is yet the perfect wrestler, but they’re figuring it out, working on what they’re good at and finding ways to implement their ideas in the ring. I don’t think anyone believed Riko would beat Iroha for the title, but that’s not the point. It was a chance to step up to that level, and now that she’s done so, I can’t imagine Maria will be too far behind.
Matches like this make wrestling look so easy. Sure, being put on by Netflix helped (it was part of a promotional event for the new Dump Matsumoto show), as it brought a sheen to the production that highlighted how badly most of this stuff is shot, but the match held up its end of the bargain. It was classic pro-wrestling as a group of dastardly villains (accompanied by Yuriyan Retriever, who plays Dump in the show and so clearly gets it) took on our beloved heroes (who, likewise, were accompanied by the show’s Crush Gals, Erika Karata and Ayame Goriki). With a hot Korakuen crowd roaring it on and everyone looking to impress on a stage that had the potential to burst out of the bubble, they nailed the vibes an event like this needed and delivered some of the most watchable action you’ll see this year.
Of course, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t put some of that on the shoulders of Mio Momono. Maria and Riko did a good job in their role as battling babyfaces, but this match was made for Mio, as she got to show the world how it’s done. Even Dump got involved in putting a beating on her, laying in a series of cane shots that felt right. Not only is she going after a Nagayo protege (and she made sure to throw one at Chig when she put her head above the parapet), but Momono is the best babyface of her generation, and you know that she and Dump would have cooked up some magic together if they’d been at their peak at the same time. The howls of dismay from the Crush Gals’ actors on commentary said it all, as Mio milked it for everything it was worth.
However, as much as I might want to, I can’t put this all on Mio. Our heel group was perfectly cast, as they had four veterans in their element, delighting in playing up to a Korakuen Hall that was more than happy to boo them. Zap and Morimatsu might not be the most dynamic wrestlers these days, but they know how to lay the villainry on thick, and Chikayo and DASH were there to make up for any physical shortcomings. Chisako even got her big moment, flying from a ladder to crash through Takumi Iroha and a table outside the ring. Everyone on the Marvelous side was ready to take a beating, and when it came time for Iroha to turn the tide, the heels showed they were equally on board, Morimatsu eating a Running Three for the win.
The biggest compliment I can pay is that this felt like part of a lineage with those classic Crush Gals vs Gokuaku Domei brawls. It wasn’t quite as wild, and as great as our heel four were, none of them are Dump Matsumoto. They’d have to ramp up the evil and get themselves a pair of scissors to go that far. However, those matches are some of my favourite of all time, and if you can dip your toe in that water and come out looking anything other than embarrassed to have even tried, then you’ve done a hell of a lot right.
Maya Yukihi, Saori Anou & Kakeru vs Ryo Mizunami, Momoka Hanazono & Yuu, Whispers of Destiny (15/9/24), Oz Academy
There isn’t a lot that will catch you off guard in this match. Despite splitting from Mayumi Ozaki, the, I guess, former Seiki-gun trio still heeled it up, drawing boos from the crowd as they bullied Momoka Hanazono. However, there was one particular moment that stood out to me. It came from a classic Momoka spot when she points off in the distance to set up a straight hook to the jaw. Except on this occasion, Maya Yukihi didn’t look, instead choosing to slap poor Hanazono across the face. The kicker? Once she’d done that, she couldn’t resist having a little peak, checking to see that there wasn’t actually anything there.
Why pick out that moment to talk about? On the surface, I accept that while it’s an amusing gag, it’s hardly worthy of a few hundred words. However, it shows why Yukihi has been the perfect minion for the Oz Academy boss. She’s an incredible wrestler in her own right, someone who, elsewhere, almost always drifts towards being the star. Yet, in Oz Academy, she’s slotted perfectly into her role under the watchful eye of Ozaki because of stuff like this. The ideal goon (I hate that the internet has twisted that word to have other meanings because it’s a perfect descriptor) in any genre serves as a threat to our hero, and is often more physically capable than them. The leveller? They’re usually thick as mince.
It means they might not fall for the point in the other direction and say ‘Look at that’ trick straight away, but they still can’t stop that niggling feeling that there might be something there. That’s what makes Seiki-gun, despite all their advantages, beatable, and Yukihi’s willingness to lean into that in the last few years has been why she’s flourished in that role. Other wrestlers are constantly trying to make themselves the story, and I don’t blame them for that, but someone like Yukihi appears content to help others shine. It’s something that has shown in her choices since leaving Ice Ribbon, as while she’s had her stints in Stardom and so on, she seems more content to piss around with her friends, having fun on 666 shows and turning up in Baka Gaijin. She’s a brilliant worker, but she’s also (unless your name is Giulia) incredibly unselfish, and it’s hard not to love that about her.
I’m obviously overthinking a throwaway gag – if it was even intended to be a gag in the first place (a million things could have made her look that way). However, I’ll take any opportunity to throw praise on someone who deserves it, and deliberate or not, it made me laugh. Great wrestling needs people who are willing to make themselves the butt of a joke, and Yukihi has proven on more than one occasion that she is willing to do that in Oz Academy, which is why she’s flourished. Now they’ve split from Ozaki, who knows what happens next, but I wouldn’t bet against her being brilliant in that role, too.
Hechicero vs Esfinge vs Euforia vs Valiente, 91 Aniversario (13/9/24), CMLL
I am no student of lucha libre. For years, I’ve been meaning to do the legwork to break down that particular wall, but (and this might surprise some people) I do like to do some stuff that doesn’t involve watching wrestle, and there is a lot of lucha. There may come a day when I decide to make that leap, but as of right now, I’m content with picking up the pieces that break out of the bubble. Thankfully, for CMLL’s Anniversary show, that was not the match containing Chris Jericho.
And the beauty of a luchas de apuestas is that you don’t need to do the legwork. Of course, this will mean more to people who have a history with these wrestlers, and I imagine those crying in the Arena Mexico stands as Euforia unmasked have watched a lot of his 34-year career. However, it works if you’ve never seen him wrestle before. I might not be a lucha expert, but I know the meaning of those masks – to lose one is to lose part of your identity. Even if I didn’t, the elimination structure of the action tells you. It’s not the two losers who go into the final showdown. Competing for a mask in Arena Mexico on CMLL’s anniversary is an honour, and you will take the risk of losing yours to earn it.
There are people significantly more qualified than me to go deep on this one, but I still loved riding the emotion of it. The opening, before we whittled it down to two, was a bit more loose. Everyone got their big moments, and there was a sense that it was the fun stuff before we got serious, but with some very cool dives and fancy exchanges, it certainly never dragged. However, it was when it came down to Hechicero and Euforia that things picked up. That was when a sense of danger slipped into the air, and the tension thickened. As it did, they started taking more risks, the highlight of which was Hechicero leaping through the air to come down with the back of his thighs on the guard rail. It was the kind of bump that must have made sitting on the toilet agony for weeks, but it was also perfect for this moment. Unique and dangerous, it’s a risk you would only take when it is all on the line.
That’s where the magic is. My taste in the lucha I have seen leans more towards the bloody brawls than flashy marvels, but the emotion was still there. It was there in the desperate exchanges at the end and in Euforia’s moment of unmasking surrounded by his family. I don’t care if you’ve never watched wrestling – you can feel that. You can understand that something important is happening. It’s the magic of a room and a history and a world that has put value on these things. No one is coming to me for my lucha takes, and as I said, I don’t claim to know what I’m talking about, but it still worked for me, so if you’ve also never taken that leap, maybe check if it works for you, too.
Fuminori Abe & Kozo Hashimoto vs Takuya Nomura & Kosuke Sato, BJW (15/9/24), BJW
The Astronaut lads have got themselves some space children and are making them fight!
You can almost split this match into two. On the one hand, you’ve got the Abe and Nomura stuff, which was predictably exciting. Those two violent buggers laying into each other with a series of stiff and petty blows will never get boring, and even in this relatively laidback environment, there were a few nasty shots. Some people bounce off Abe’s silliness, but I think it’s what makes him so great, and I got a kick out of him stumbling forward into a headbutt. Likewise, they weren’t holding back when they got their hands on the youngsters. Nomura, in particular, dished out a bit of a beating when he was left alone with Hashimoto, slapping him repeatedly across the face.
The other half of the match was when the kids got into it, and while that might have lacked the seasoned polish of Abe vs Nomura, it was no less exciting. It felt like the best example of young lion wrestling, as those lads milked the basics for everything they were worth. Something as simple as a snapmare turned into a running battle, neither one willing to budge an inch as they tried to pull ahead. They were also more than happy to follow Abe and Nomura into the violence, laying into each other in a way that, at times, threatened to fall over into a pub fight. However, that’s no bad thing, and I like a bit of scrappiness in my rookie battles. Abe was certainly encouraging it, shoving them into each other after the bell to keep the fight going.
I’m not going to pretend to be paying attention to BJW, and I only put this on because of the combination of hype and Astronauts, but the space children look like they have potential. They’re certainly learning from the right people.
Emi Sakura vs Kaho Hiromi, ChocoPro 395 (15/9/24), ChocoPro
I’m not sure I’ve ever included two matches from the same pairing before. If I have, it’s been a while. However, Emi Sakura and Kaho Hiromi make it worthwhile. I probably could have included all three of their meetings from this month, but I thought that would be a bit excessive. Instead, I went with the first and last, allowing me to talk about how this match changed as the month went on.
While a lot of what made this great was similar to their match at the start of the month, there has been a shift. Back then, it felt like Sakura had arranged it purely to take her frustrations out on a child. By the end of September, she still feels like she is in a position to torment Kaho, but it’s become increasingly clear that the rookie is unbullyable. If anything, she spent most of this match bullying Emi Sakura. There’s a point where she enlists an audience member to help her dump Sakura out the window, then, when a dishevelled Emi pops her head up, she delightedly announces her to the crowd, making a big deal out of her reappearance. Sakura thinks that she’s in control of this situation, but the truth is that Kaho is very much the one running things.
It’s a dynamic I can’t get enough of. Yes, I want to see Kaho wrestle other people, but they could do this another fifty times and I’d be okay with that. They’re that good together. Sadly, it’s not to be, as I believe Sakura is returning to America soon. Then again, the youngster is only ten, so there is a lot of time to play with. As Riho has proven before (and these matches have a lot of similarities to the ones I’ve seen between baby Riho and Emi), spending your childhood wrestling Emi Sakura will turn you into a hell of a wrestler. Fingers crossed I’ll be doing a lot of writing about these two over the next few years.
Kaho Hiromi vs Rina, Darejyo EXTRA 14 (16/9/24), Darejyo
If you’re not watching these Darejyo showcases, you’re missing out. Not only are they a little slither of heartwarming loveliness as you get to watch the trainees at Gatoh Move’s open-to-everyone school all support each other through a series of exercises and exhibition matches, but they’re a fascinating look into how Emi Sakura’s methods work. It’s a look at the basic drills she runs and a glimpse at how those link together with the wrestling they become. When I watch the Marvelous pro-test I’ll talk about later, I can’t imagine ever becoming a wrestler. When I watch this, I kinda can. You also occasionally get a little gem. Like this, a lock-up competition in which two of the younger members of the class went head-to-head.
Any Gatoh Move fans (or people who didn’t skip the earlier matches on this list) will be aware of Kaho, who debuted at the recent Korakuen, while Rina appears to be of a similar age (Kaho’s ten) or perhaps a touch older. That’s important because she has a slight size advantage. The aim of the game is simple: the two rookies lock-up and compete to push each other off the mat. It’s a shoot, but up until this one, everything had been very jovial and fun. Then Kaho vs Rina happened. Now, if I had to guess, I’d imagine Kaho was coming into this wanting to win. She had just made her debut, and while she’s still a young’un, there had to be a bit of pride in that. Like Hiyori, who also took part in this show, she’s now a step above the rest, and you can imagine she was picturing an easy victory. Rina had other ideas.
What follows is one of the more intense lock-ups you’ll see this year. These two kids shove each other from one end of the Ichigaya mat to the other, both refusing to be the one who goes down. Every time it looked like someone had gained the upper hand, the other slipped around or repositioned themselves to keep going. It got to the point where you could see Emi Sakura wondering if she needed to step in and she eventually declared it a draw when it became clear that these two stubborn wee legends weren’t about to budge. Thankfully, there appeared to be no hard feelings afterwards, but for a few seconds, they were locked in.
It was all a reminder of how thrilling a lock-up can be. More than perhaps any other move in professional wrestling, people are lazy when it comes to locking up. The number of matches that start with it is substantially higher than the number that does something with it. It’s thrown away, treated like a box you have to tick before you can do the cool stuff. However, when you have two wrestlers acting like it is the most important thing in the world, it matters again. Suddenly, that undervalued move feels like a battle. It’s an idea you see a couple of times on this training school show, as later on an exhibition will almost be entirely built around a knuckle lock. Emi Sakura has made a career out of teaching people to make a lot out of little, and while I don’t think she set this up expecting something quite this exciting, it’s yet more proof that her methods work.
Miu Watanabe vs Ryo Mizunami, Wrestle Princess 5 (22/9/24), TJPW
Miu Watanabe beating Ryo Mizunami felt like the moment her first title reign morphed from a success into a triumph. Don’t get me wrong. It’s already been an impressive run. An underwhelming defence against Vertvixen aside, she’s stood her ground against a group of people who can be considered TJPW legends. However, there was something different about this match. We saw Miu being pushed to do things she hadn’t done before. She even hit what you might have considered her limit, dropping Aniki with that first Teardrop, only to discover it wasn’t enough. In every other match, it has been, but here? Aniki got up. It would have made perfect sense if they’d built the story around that being the moment Watanabe broke, unable to go again when she thought it was over, but they didn’t. Instead, Miu screwed her head and went to work until even Mizunami couldn’t struggle to her feet. They showed her reaching her limit but refusing to stop, battering on and keeping hold of her title. She levelled up in front of her eyes.
I neither know nor care how Watanabe’s title reign is going from a business perspective. As far as I can tell, TJPW are in a pretty good place right now and appear unlikely to go out of business any time soon, so I’m content. What I find exciting, however, is the idea of Miu as a spear launched into their very foundations. For a long time, this company has been dominated by the faces that made it. From Miyu Yamashita to Yuka Sakasaki to Shoko Nakajima to Rika Tatsumi. Without them, it wouldn’t exist, and they’ve rightly basked in their rewards. However, we’re starting to see a shift. Sakasaki has moved on, Miyu is spending more and more time in America, and Shoko has settled into the role of the ultimate utility player, doing everything from comedy to outstanding matches with wrestling legends. Even more importantly, the youngsters are rising up. Miu, Suzume, Arisu Endo, Yuki Arai, Moka Miyamoto, we’ve suddenly got a generation of people bashing on the door, demanding to be let in. Sure, Arisu and Suzume lost the tag titles to Miyu Yamashita and Maki Itoh earlier on the show, but it wasn’t 121000000 I wanted to talk about afterwards. After years of putting the blocks into place, the kids are starting to steal the show.
And Miu is central to all of that. She’s the proof that it can be done, the shining light they all follow, and the wrestler who can back it all up in the ring. In many ways, she’s the perfect TJPW talent. Light, frothy, and so clearly in love with wrestling but with an iron core that will see her batter anyone down who stands in her way. Going toe-to-toe with Aniki, trading blows and refusing to waiver was the ultimate proof of that. She might not be the Ace, but she wrestled like one, and that’s a hell of an accomplishment. The past isn’t gone yet, and I hope it sticks around for a long time, but the future is here, and with Miu leading the charge, I can’t wait to see what they do.
You can read my full Wrestle Princess review here.
Let’s get it out of the way early – this match probably shouldn’t have happened. Before the bell even rang, they’d already booked the rematch (for both the Sendai and AAAW Tag Titles) at the big Marvelous show in Nagoya at the end of October. It made no sense to have them wrestle ahead of that, especially as it was clear you wouldn’t have the babyfaces get their big win on a smaller show (if you plan on them having it at all). However, I suspect there had been some frantic changes behind the scenes inspired by Meiko Satomura’s retirement. That show was originally supposed to be headlined by Mio Momono vs Takumi Iroha, but I assume a desire to do Satomura vs Iroha (which is now happening) has seen them shuffle the card. With nowhere else for Momono to go, they’ve turned to an old faithful.
And now we’ve got all that nonsense out of the way, this match ruled. Of course, it did. These two teams feel like they were born to wrestle each other. In Hash and Yuu, you have two unbreakable walls. In Oka and Momono, you have the two menaces willing to throw themselves at them until they make a crack. It’s Wrestling 101, the smaller, faster babyfaces trying to find a way to overcome two unbeatable powerhouses. That idea has been at the core of every brilliant Mio Momono vs Chihiro Hashimoto showdown, and adding Oka and Yuu does no damage to that.
Truthfully, I don’t have a whole lot more to say about it. They were all brilliant in the ways you’d expect them to be. I’m sure some people will knock a few marks off for the communication mix-up at the end where the ref didn’t think a Hash powerbomb was supposed to be the finish, but I find getting your knickers in a twist about stuff like that tiresome. It was 3 seconds in a 17-minute match, and if that makes you think the rest of it is somehow worth less, maybe you don’t like wrestling that much. You just like your checklist of what you’ve been told a good match is. Anyway, petty bitching aside, whether it should have existed or not, it’s great. These two teams can wrestle forever, and while I’m sad that I won’t be at an Iroha vs Momono live, this will be a strong consolation prize.
Takumi Iroha vs Naho Tanaka, Marvelous (29/9/24), Marvelous
I suppose this could be a sister recommendation to the Kaho vs Rina lock-up competition mentioned above, but it had none of its light-hearted surroundings. It was the final section of Naho Tanaka’s pro-test, the physical ordeal you have to survive before you are allowed to make your debut as a wrestler. Before this, she had done an unholy number of squats, gone through various neck exercises, bumped all over the ring and shoot grappled with Ai Houzan and Mio Momono. Takumi Iroha was her last challenge, and to say she was dead on her feet before it started would be an understatement. She looked wiped out, to the point where Chigusa Nagayo had a quick chat with her before they got going.
And yet, when she started grappling with Iroha, she found every bit of energy she had left and threw herself at the Ace. There are moments in wrestling where everything becomes very real, and these pro-tests are one of them. Tanaka might have been able to have another go somewhere down the line, but she was in Shinkiba, surrounded by fans willing her on, and you could see how much she wanted it. She wanted it enough to pick up her exhausted body and launch herself at a significantly bigger woman who came in fresh. Don’t get me wrong. Exhaustion doesn’t turn you into an incredible grappler and Iroha was in control for long parts of this, but she could never pin the youngster down. Then, Tanaka got so caught up in it that she started throwing forearms, hammering away at Iroha’s chest. It got to the point where the Ace dished out a slap across the face, trying to put this rookie back in her place, but the kid wouldn’t stop. She was going to wrestle until she blacked out.
When they finally called for the bell, Tanaka still wouldn’t go down, leaping forward once more as people dragged her away. She was so desperate to earn the right to wrestle for Marvelous that she would have kept going for as long as it took. Thankfully, there was no need. She’d done enough, and without even consulting with fellow judges Tommy and Iroha, Chigusa Nagayo declared she’d passed. At that, Tanaka burst into tears, the crowd cheering her on, as the relief on her face said it all. The kid had done it, and judging by this, she deserved it. I can’t wait to watch her career, and, fingers crossed, she’ll soon be joined by Nao Shimizu (who couldn’t do her test here because she got ill). If this is an indication of the training they’ve received, they’re going to be incredible.
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