It doesn’t matter if the month is long or short – I always get to the end of it feeling like there are at least twenty matches I haven’t got to yet. Despite that, I think February’s ramble has a nice selection of gems to get excited about. There’s all the usual stuff (Ice Ribbon, ChocoPro and TJPW), but also a bit more lucha, a touch of New Japan and a trip over to Evolution, who are becoming one of my favourite promotions outside of my typical fare to keep up with. Hopefully, there is something there that you’ll enjoy, and if you think I’m missing anything particularly exciting, drop it in the comments.
Kirari Wakana vs Mase Hiiro, New Ice Ribbon #1397 (1/2/25), Ice Ribbon
Is this a perfect match? No, of course not. One of the wrestlers was a literal child, while the adult in the room was a teenager who (at the time) had fewer than fifty matches under her belt. There were awkward moments, a few sequences that got away from them and the occasional niggle when things just didn’t quite work. However, all those issues were blown away by the pleasure I got from seeing rookie underdog Kirari Wakana deal with being the biggest wrestler in the ring. Ice Ribbon couldn’t find an adult to fill the role, so they had to turn to someone primary school-aged.
To add to that enjoyment, Wakana didn’t even dominate. Oh, she had her moments in control, drawing boos from the crowd as she drove her foot into wee Mase’s face in the corner or pulled on her hair in a camel clutch, but it wasn’t easy for her. Hiiro (like Gatoh Move’s Kaho Hiromi) wrestles like a kid, which has a few advantages. Whether it was bouncing Wakana’s arm up and down into the ropes or crawling through her legs, there were moments when she was making Kirari work for it. I don’t know if it was Wakana reverting to type and sliding into the role she’s most comfortable with, but it was never a one-sided affair. It felt like Hiiro had a chance of winning, as she seems to be trusted with doing a lot more than the previously mentioned Kaho (although she’s still obviously working from a limited palate).
Sadly, she didn’t, but I have a lot of affection for matches like this. There’s a real talent to working with kids. Sure, you can go out and try to plug them into a normal match, and it might even be fun, but that’s forcing them into a formula that typically doesn’t suit them. What the good wrestlers do, from Emi Sakura to Kaori Yoneyama to even Kenny Omega, is find a way to use the things only they can do. To harness that childish creativity and tiny size to put together ideas that wouldn’t work with adult wrestlers. Wakana had already proven she is an exciting young wrestler, but always in fairly standard ways. Working with Hiiro was something completely different, and the fact that she managed to make it enjoyable might be the best indicator of her talent so far.
Makoto & Yuki Mashiro vs Ibuki Hoshi & Sumika Yanegawa, New Ice Ribbon #1398 (2/2/25), Ice Ribbon
Yuki Mashiro should have never been a main eventer. That’s not to say she didn’t deserve it or that I don’t ultimately think she did a good job, but in a perfect world, Ice Ribbon’s greatest weirdo would have never had to step up to that perch. Certain wrestlers are born to inhabit the midcard, and if Ice hadn’t exploded, I like to imagine Mashiro’s career would have happily played out there. She could have had the occasional title challenge and a few dalliances with the Triangle and FantastIce belts, but she would never have been asked to lead the company. None of this is an insult, either. Sakura Hirota is one of my favourite wrestlers of all time, and there is a reason she didn’t win a singles title until 2020.
Sadly, we’ll never see that mythical midcard Mashiro career, but with her going freelance from Ice Ribbon, there’s a chance we’ll get something at least close. I was worried that after dropping the belt to Manami Katsu, she would vanish from the company for good, but not only did this match quiet those fears, it unleashed my favourite version of her. Teamed up with long-term big pal Makoto, she was in full nonsense mode, opening the match by offering herself up to be spun around in a Crucifix Powerbomb position in what appeared to be an attempt to ape the old Terry Funk ladder spot. Unfortunately for them, Ibuki and Yanagawa proved to be the first wrestlers smart enough not to run towards the trap but to simply sit back and wait until they got dizzy.
And this is why I love Mashiro. Yes, she can do main events and has had some very good standard matches (and parts of this played out as such), but she’s at her best when let loose to embrace her instincts. This showing, where she was constantly hectoring Makoto on what to do, felt like a callback to the days when she was bothering Suzu Suzuki and demanding Tsukasa Fujimoto redo her entrance so they could play Mashiro’s music. In another’s hands, it would be arrogance, but when shone through the sheen of her likeability, she’s just bafflingly sure of herself.
That came to the fore once more post-match when, despite taking the pin, she suggested that because of her and Makoto’s great teamwork, they should challenge for the tag titles. The problem being that Makoto is currently one half of said champions. It kicked off a month of nonsense between her and her big pal that delighted me. There’s a real obsession among wrestling fans that every worker with talent needs to be pushed to the moon and handed a belt tomorrow, but Mashiro is proof of why that’s not the case. This is where she’s most at home, messing around and being a nuisance to people who should, by all rights, be able to boot her into next week. It’s what she was born to do.
Yumiko Hotta & Shinya Aoki vs Fuminori Abe & Ippanjin Munenori Sawa, Sanshiro Takagi 30th Anniversary – Never Say Never (3/2/25), DDT
There is a serious version of this match that rules. This wasn’t that. It was Takagi’s anniversary show, so we were doing things DDT-style. Sawa was wearing a suit and glasses, for fuck sake. Still, we got touches of what the straight version might have looked like, particularly in the grappling between Aoki and Abe, and it was brilliant. Everything they did was tight and aggressive, as they engaged in a constant struggle to get the upper hand. So good were they at twisting each other up that there was a real sense it could end at any moment. Cagematch tells me they’ve never had a singles match before, but DDT would be mad not to book it off the back of this.
That’s not the real hook, though. That comes from Abe and Sawa’s (although there was a sense that he was simply following the lead of his pal) attempts to bully Yumiko Hotta. I had some issues with that. I don’t believe for a second that Hotta would give a damn about anyone calling her ugly. It feels like an insult that would only provide more motivation for her to smear them across the campus. However, if you can get past that, it added a fun (if somewhat childish) arc to this match. These two snivelling wee men spend it goading a woman who could kick the shit out of them, so it was only right that they face the punishment they so richly deserve. The finish came when Hotta refused to stop hanging Abe over the ropes with her chain, and there’s no one in the room who didn’t think it was well deserved. It was simple shit, but it was also satisfying as hell.
More and more, I find myself attracted to wrestling like this. Basic stuff with a solid payoff. Sure, this match didn’t take itself too seriously, but it felt so right to watch two irritants get their comeuppance. It being Hotta who delivered that beating only added to the joy, as she knows a thing or two about dishing out a thrashing. There’s plenty of deep, complicated wrestling in the world, and I’m not saying I don’t have time for it, but sometimes it’s nice to be presented with a simple morality tale. We all learned an important lesson – never bully terrifying women who can kill you.
Team Marvelous (Takumi Iroha, Mio Momono & Riko Kawahata) vs Team COLOR’S (SAKI, Hikari Shimizu & Yuko Sakurai), Marvelous (4/2/25), Marvelous
I watched this the morning Mio Momono announced she’d be out for a good chunk of the year, and it was a painful reminder of what we’ll be missing. It was not just her general brilliance throughout, pairing up wonderfully with Shimizu, SAKI and Sakurai, but all the stuff around that. The section of the action when Kawahata was being worked over by COLOR’S was partly caused by Mio lying on the apron, pretending to be asleep because she was sulking that Riko had previously gotten carried away and joined in with her old AWG pals. She’s a petty ball of genius, and while it seems like this injury isn’t as serious as some of her previous knocks, any moment when she’s not wrestling is a sad one.
It was also a reminder of how good Marvelous are at these inter-promotional battles. Don’t get me wrong, this didn’t have the fire of the Sendai feud. It was a one-off match, delivered with a smile as part of Shimizu’s retirement road, but it still sparked something in Team Marvelous. They’re goofs, but they’re competitive with it, and everyone involved in that company seems to believe in it with their heart and soul. When asked to prove their superiority, they can’t help but go all out. Well, unless that requires them to forgive Riko’s indiscretions. Then, they might have to think twice about it.
Not that this was purely the Marvelous show. With her long injury, I feel like I haven’t had enough Shimizu in my life recently. She was equally as home working high speed with Mio as she was trading kicks with Iroha, and you can’t help feeling like we’ve missed out on countless great tag matches with her and SAKI taking on various iterations of Team Marvelous. Even Sakurai, who I don’t think it’s too hot a take to say is the weakest of the group, delivered here, reminded everyone that she’s deceptively tall and strong in her interactions with Mio.
It made for perhaps not one of the best matches of the year, but certainly one of the most watchable. They got the balance of comedy and action spot-on while keeping the pace up. Cagematch tells me it went around 17 minutes, but I’d have believed them if they said it was 10. Throw in a touch of emotion with Shimizu’s upcoming retirement and the tributes to her in the aftermath, and I can’t imagine you will see many small show main events better than this one in 2025.
Miu Watanabe vs Uta Takami, Max Heart Tournament Final (8/2/25), TJPW
It seems like a weird thing to say when she’s coming off a title reign that I felt was significantly more good than bad, but watching this match, it felt like a confirmation of Miu Watanabe as one of the new faces of Tokyo Joshi. Feel like a star in a main event against a Shoko Nakajima or Rika Tatsumi is one thing, but it’s a whole other to do so when wrestling an emotional rookie on the midcard of a smaller Korakuen. Yet, up against Uta, Miu felt like the boss. She took control of the action, grounding the excitable youngster and beating her down with cold and ruthless efficiency. Miu had no time for sentimentality. If Uta wanted something from her hero, she would have to work for it.
A challenge that the wee one rose to. Another advantage of Miu’s quiet, determined approach to this match was that it made Uta’s pop all the more. While Miu was calm and aggressive, Uta was screechy and desperate, throwing herself into her offence. She was all nuisance factor and no subtlety, blocking the first attempt at the Giant Swing by simply grabbing Miu’s leg. Towards the end, Watanabe let out a roar of frustration, which felt as close to a victory as Uta was every likely to get. She’d made the former champ work for it, forcing her to accept that Takami was at least something of a challenge before putting her away with a thudding blow to the chest.
It ended up feeling important for both of these wrestlers. For Uta, it was a chance to wrestle her hero and discover just how much more of the mountain she has to climb. Can she reach Miu’s level? My brain says no, but I never saw Miu reaching Miu’s level, so what the fuck do I know? As for Watanabe, it’s yet more proof that she is shaping up to be the face of this company. It is the kind of match Miyu Yamashita would have had a few years ago, and while I don’t want to suggest she couldn’t still have it, her attention is increasingly elsewhere. Miu, meanwhile, is out there, putting these rookies through their paces and seeing what they’re made of. She’ll have a whole load of amazing main events in the next few years, but I’m perhaps even more excited to see her challenge the next generation to step up to her level.
Warm Caterpillars (Mei Suruga & Chie Koishikawa) vs Sayaka & Kaho Hiromi, ChocoPro #427 (8/2/25), ChocoPro
There was a running theme in this match of superfan Kaho Hiromi countering Mei Suruga’s signature offence. Time after time, she stopped her from going to the window, wriggled out of the propeller clutch and scampered across the ground to prevent Mei from wrenching on her arm. None of those counters were particularly complicated, and we’ve seen all of them before, but put together and delivered by Kaho, they took on another meaning. Mei is shaping the next generation, but that comes with a cost. The Apple Goblin who has ruled the roost for so long in ChocoPro might just create her own replacement.
Okay, that’s slightly dramatic (Kaho is only 10), but I love watching those two interact. Kaho seems as excited to wrestle Mei now as she was the first time they locked up. Suruga, meanwhile, approaches her young protege in a very different way from Miu Watanabe (see above). Where Miu looked to cut Uta off, Mei encouraged Kaho, letting her experiment with all her fun ideas and embrace the childish joy of wrestling. ChocoPro has always been a company that leans with its wrestlers rather than against them, so it’s no surprise that Kaho’s youthful exuberance has become part of her arsenal. She’s never asked to hold back on her delight, which makes her such a joy to watch. How can you not be charmed by the grin on her face when she cutely poses on top of a pile of wrestlers, revelling in taking the spotlight away from her gang of older sisters?
I praised Ice Ribbon for something similar above, and I think they’re brilliant at it, but I don’t think anyone beats ChocoPro for this stuff. Kaho is as important a part of the roster as anyone, and while she’s still limited in what she’s allowed to do, those match times are creeping up as she’s given more and more freedom. Thankfully, I never worry about them going too far with it. It may be Mei’s first time ushering a youngling into wrestling, but she has one of the best standing behind her, ready to step in and direct traffic when needed, which is a hell of a safety net. As I’ve said before, we’ve no idea whether this will be something Kaho does for a while or a thirty-year career, but either way, she seems to be having a blast, and I’m having just as much fun watching her.
Yappy vs Kirari Wakana, Ice Ribbon #1399 (8/2/25), Ice Ribbon
I recently mentioned that the idea of turning Yappy heel would have never occurred to me. Her innate loveliness felt too powerful. However, now that Bad Butts are settling in, I’ve had to accept that I was wrong. Not about her being lovely (every interaction I’ve had with her suggests that’s the case), but about how suited she is to getting mean. If anything, I’m starting to feel like she should have been doing this years ago, as having Yappy around to bully the youngsters is turning out to be a bit of a godsend for Ice Ribbon.
This match serves as a perfect example of Yappy understanding her role. When Wakana is on offence, she eats it up, absorbing countless dropkicks and chops before providing a bit of mocking encouragement when the rookie tries to roll her over into a crab. Even more importantly, when she takes over, she gets nasty with it, slapping Wakana’s bare stomach and overpowering her at every turn. She’s not going full Dump Matsumoto out there, but Ice Ribbon don’t want a Dump Matsumoto. They’re looking for their villainy to be a touch more bumbling, another thing Yappy excels at as she got cocky towards the end, letting Kirari reel off a run of offence that saw her nearly steal the win.
Thankfully, she didn’t, as Yappy pounded her into the mat for the three, which (at this stage of Wakana’s career) is how things should be. I don’t want to take anything away from the kid, who was fun and energetic here, but it was all built on that anchoring performance from Yappy. Ice Ribbon have lost a lot of experienced heads in the last few years, and while you’ve still got your Hams and Totoros around, they’re missing a few midcard gatekeepers. It’s a role that Yappy should be playing, and it turns out that embracing a bit of bastardry might just be what helps her do so.
Hirooki Goto vs Zack Sabre Jr, The New Beginning in Osaka (11/2/25), NJPW
Here’s something I’ve never said before, but I was scared of this match. My dad died at the end of last year, and with the build revolving around Goto’s grief from his father’s passing, I felt a pressure to not only love this but to express that love in writing. It was entirely self-created (and perhaps gives an insight into how my brain works), but I didn’t feel ready for that. I mean no slight to those who have talked about this in relation to their own grief (it’s probably much healthier than where I am right now), but I’m not quite at a stage where I can talk about my dad’s death through the prism of wrestling. I’m not sure I’m at the stage where I’m good at talking about it all.
Thankfully, when I plucked up the courage to finally put it on, I found something else to get my teeth into. Yes, Goto’s relationship with his dad is the background, and it looms over this, but the match itself rests on the foundations of a different story: the old warrior’s last chance. Goto’s failures over the years have been well-covered. Time after time, he’s hauled himself up, ready to take his place at the top of the mountain, only to stumble and fall, tumbling and bouncing down to the bottom again. He’s the perennial second placer, talented and reliable, but never able to go the whole way. As the years slipped away, the chances of it ever happening grew slimmer and slimmer, and I think nearly everyone had given up on him every breaking through. Everyone, it seems, apart from Goto.
And to give him his credit in a match that was never about him, Zack Sabre Jr was the perfect foil (even if his offence is still frustratingly inconsistent). A smug Englishman who doesn’t even own a phone, even the way he wrestles stands in direct contrast to Goto. Where the old warrior is blunt and aggressive, Sabre is sneaky and sly. Zack, like so many English people, is easy to hate, and even without the million and one reasons to support Goto that already existed, the chance to see him wipe that smile off Sabre’s face was enough to root for him. I’m Scottish. Watching an Englishman fall is always a joy.
I firmly believe that not everyone needs to succeed. Most of my favourite wrestlers are defined more by their failures than their successes. However, every now and then, a story like this hits just right. The fairytale comes true, and the grizzled old fighter finally proves what he always knew. While it took him longer to get there than he expected, he’s shown the world and the man who raised him that he belongs at the top. It’s hard not to feel that story. It’s hard not to love it. Perhaps one day I will come back to this and be able to embrace every drop of emotion that exists within it, but even shutting myself off to those deeper trenches, it’s some great wrestling.
Yumiko Hotta, Unagi Sayaka & Ayame Sasamura vs Las Fresa de Egoistas (Veny, Makoto & Nagisa Nozaki), Winter End in Shinjuku! (12/2/25), SEAdLINNNG
Every interaction between Hotta and Veny in this match brimmed with the potential for violence. I often think we’ve lost sight of what makes an exciting brawl, as it’s becoming all about lifelessly trading forearm strikes in the centre of the ring. The great brawlers, your Hansens and Brodys, felt like they wrestled on the edge. If you were sat in the front row for one of their matches, you would be constantly on high alert, ready to be sent flying. Hotta and Veny tapped into a bit of that here. When their fight spilt to the outside, it had none of the fakeness of Veny’s encounter with Sareee last month, when she hit the Sun God with a wrench that didn’t leave a scratch. No, it was unhinged and loose, chairs being flung in every direction as they ditched safety in their determination to rip each other apart.
It all gave this a sense of things being out of control, which, at a time when wrestling so often feels like the opposite, was exciting as hell. I don’t like to be overly grumpy about the current product, but some wrestlers are almost too good. They’re too smooth and well-coached, so that sense of danger is gone. As Veny and Hotta tore at each other, you were never sure what would happen next. They were as likely to go barreling through several rows of fans, oblivious to their peril, as they were to make their way back to the ring. I don’t want to keep kicking at Sareee, who is brilliant in her own way, but the whole thing felt raw and alive in a way that match never did. As the post-match brawl showed, these two weren’t interested in making it look good. They just wanted to hurt each other.
They also did what the company wanted them to do. I’m a casual SEAd watcher at best, usually checking out shows days or even weeks after they air. However, Veny and Hotta suddenly felt like the hottest ticket in town. I want to see what this looks like when no one else is around to get in the way. That’s a job well done, and whether the eventual match proves to be as brilliant as this hinted or not, it’s probably one of my favourite build-up tags of the year so far.
Neon vs Max Star, Super Viernes (14/2/25), CMLL
I’m not alone in this, but my belief when it comes to ‘movez’ wrestlers is that they either have to do things I’ve never seen before or execute them in a way that makes me think there’s a decent chance they could break their neck at any second. It’s why Saya Kamitani got less interesting when she figured out how to do her offence, and Will Ospreay doesn’t appeal to me at all (the guy is too perfect). Then, of course, there’s the very best of the style – those who manage to do both (Manami Toyota). Sadly, Neon and Max Star didn’t quite hit that level here, but this was undeniably a great example of the former. For just under 9 minutes, they engaged in a wild display of one-upmanship, flipping and spinning through the air with an elegance that is hard to comprehend. If I spent every day learning to do one of these things, I might pull it off after about twenty years of work, and it would still look like shit.
It meant this felt a bit like the platonic ideal of this match style. The fast-paced showing early on the card that companies put together to get everyone excited. These days, every indie show appears legally obligated to put on a scramble that aims to do the same thing, but 99% of those dream of being this entertaining. Even as a lucha novice, I’m well aware that it’s so much more than high-flying, but when they lean in that direction, no one else can touch them. It makes your average indie spotfest look like a bunch of kids messing around on a trampoline.
And there is value in simply being impressive. Long-term readers will know it’s not the kind of wrestling I naturally gravitate towards (even Toyota will never make my list of favourites), but that doesn’t mean I despise it. I just don’t like it when it’s soulless and shit. When guys this talented take to the air, I can’t imagine being anything other than wowed by them, and while even a few minutes more of this would have quickly grown tiresome, for nine minutes, I was more than happy to get excited by what they can do.
Aja Kong, Miu Watanabe, Mizuki & Raku vs Max the Impaler, Miyu Yamashita, Maki Itoh & Yuki Arai, Shinkansen Joshi Wrestling (15/2/24), TJPW
I can’t believe it’s taken them this long, but TJPW finally let Raku wrestle on a train! That alone was enough to make this match a winner in my eyes.
And yet, there was more to be taken from this than that simple joy. Wrestling on a Shinkansen is inherently ridiculous, but it’s also difficult. While the legroom is significantly better than on any British train I’ve ever subjected myself to, they’re still not blessed with space. With fans on either side, the wrestlers ended up with a corridor of action that made Ichigaya look roomy. There’s only so much you can do with that, and while the Nozomi is quick, there was a lot of time to fill between Tokyo and Osaka. This match went over forty minutes, and even with a delightful pause in the action when Aja Kong insisted everyone stop wrestling so she could try and get some photos of Mount Fuji, they could only spend so much of that shuffling up and down the aisle.
Of course, there were a few gimmicks to help them on their way, but funnily enough, the approach that got the most traction was one of the simplest. They went old school. A decent chunk of the action was built around isolating Yuki Arai from her partners. It was a somewhat genius move, as the long, thin area of engagement played perfectly to the trope, Arai continually trying to escape down it while her opponents gave chase. On top of that, it let people like Mizuki fully embrace their inner goblin, scampering up to the opposition to mock them before scurrying away, escaping before they could get their revenge. I’m not suggesting that all tag wrestling should take place on a train, but for that particular aspect, they might have stumbled upon an improvement on the original. Has anyone tried a long and thin ring? Get on it TNA. You can’t be doing anything important.
Away from cramming wrestling logic into nonsense, this worked because TJPW have put together a roster that I like spending time with. If this had been an hour or so of Raku telling me train facts in a language I can only half-comprehend, I would have probably still watched it with a smile. They’re easy company, so when you put them on a train and add the silliness of pillow fights, giant hammers and a taste of some more Aja Kong vs Max the Impaler, it’s hard for it not to be a winner. It still didn’t top the first and best Tokyo Joshi rojo wrestling (the swimming pool), but it made me happy, and that’s enough for me.
Warm Caterpillars (Mei Suruga & Chie Koishikawa) vs ZONES & Soy, Vol. 31 (19/2/25), Evolution
Emi Sakura must train her students in the art of making an immediate impact. Mei Suruga’s ability to turn up and steal a midcard away is well-known, but Chie was just as impressive here. Warm Caterpillars leapt off the page in Evolution, turning up and infusing the show with a warm, sparky energy that is scarily infectious. I’ve watched the vast majority of Mei and Chie’s careers, and I still caught myself thinking that I should watch more of them.
It helps, of course, that Suruga and Soy’s ongoing romance is one of my favourite storylines of the last few months. Last month’s tag with Kaori Yoneyama and Momoka Hanazono (which led to Soy ‘breaking up’ with Mei when she cost them the win) was brilliant, and this followed in a similar vein. I love Chie and enjoy ZONES a lot, but they’re not on Momoka and Yone’s level, and yet Mei and Soy have such wonderful chemistry that it doesn’t matter. The overly enthusiastic Suruga chasing after the awkward Soy could carry much worse wrestlers to an enjoyable showing.
And it really can’t be overstated how perfect they are for their roles. Soy, the gentle hoss, is in a constant state of bafflement whenever Suruga is around, unable to figure out quite what’s going on. There were moments in this match when Chie and Mei were bullying her, Kosihikawa joining in with Mei’s antics with glee, only for Soy to suddenly remember who she was and send one of them flying. Then there’s Suruga, who has the cheerful goblin shtick locked down. On the surface, she’s all smiles and charm, but there’s a nasty streak hiding underneath it. That goblin’s fruit will lead Soy off the path and into who knows what danger.
Throw in ZONES excelling in her role as the somewhat baffled foil to it all (her expression when Mei mimicked her rope shaking was brilliant), and this was a blast. At the moment, it feels like something that can run and run. Mei and Soy can spend the rest of the year going back and forth, trying to figure out whether they’re friends or enemies. All I need is poor lovely Soy being confused by the whole situation, and I’ll be happy, but the matches are giving me that and more. Long may it continue.
Raku & Pom Harajuku vs Miu Watanabe & Uta Takami, Winter Fes. [East] (22/2/24), TJPW
I seem to be talking about sisterly interactions a lot this month, but there was a moment in this match when Pom was repeatedly grabbing Uta’s hand, posing it like a phone and talking into it. The whole thing was very Pom. However, Uta’s reaction to it was what sold the moment. She was furious. It was pure little sister energy as this harmless nonsense wriggled its way under her skin, winding her up and leaving her desperate for revenge. The only person who can annoy you like that is a sibling who knows you better than you’d ever care to admit.
It wasn’t the only example of the form here, either. Following their match, Miu and Uta’s sisterly relationship seems to have solidified. There were moments here when the former champ was right behind Takami, urging her on, but then there were others where she gave her looks that screamed, ‘What the fuck are you thinking?’. She can tolerate this squeaky wee thing up to a point, but when she crosses that line, Watanabe will slap her back into place without a second thought. Now I say that, perhaps it’s less little sister and more new puppy. Not that you should slap puppies. Or little sisters, I guess.
Anyway, my point is that this was easy TJPW midcard watching at its finest. Raku and Pom’s antics, Uta continuing to shine and the fun of a main event, champion-level wrestler having to react to it all. Watanabe sold being put to sleep by Raku’s lullaby in a way that reminded me of Terry Funk, for christ sake. Is it much different to countless other Pom and Raku matches? Perhaps not, but I loved all of those, too.
Ramblings About Wrestling 