Fire Ant/Jigsaw/Nick Jackson/Player Dos/Helios/Green Ant/Frightmare/Cloudy vs. Soldier Ant/Mike Quackenbush/Matt Jackson/Player Uno/Lince Dorado/Carpenter Ant/Hallowicked/Cheech, CHIKARA Cibernético Increible (10/18/2009)

Commissions continue again, this one coming from frequent contributor YB. You can be like them and pay me to write about all types of stuff. People tend to choose wrestling matches, but very little is entirely off the table, so long as I haven’t written about it before (and please, come prepared with a date or show name or something if it isn’t obvious). You can commission a piece of writing of your choosing by heading on over to www.ko-fi.com/elhijodelsimon. The current rate is $5/match or thing or $10 for anything over an hour, and if you have some aim that cannot be figured out through simple multiplication, feel free to hit the DMs on Twitter or Ko-fi. 

This was the annual Torneo Cibernetico match.

For the uninitiated or simply less initiated, this is an eight vs. eight tag team match with a set entry order or batting order to make it more easily understood, but since many of you are less American and/or big nerds, it means you can only tag out to the person next in line (or they have to come in next if, under lucha tag rules, you leave the ring). There are eliminations through the usual methods, and should one team have more than one man left at the very end, the will have to fight until one is left.

It can — in that it has in the past and will in the future — result in some of the better and more memorable CHIKARA matches ever, such as 2005’s one-hundred plus minute one (loved it at the time, plan on never ever watching it again so present me can never find what I’m sure are a thousand flaws), 2010’s all-time CHIKARA bullshit masterpiece of the CHIKARA team vs. the BDK which was one of the best of that year, and 2012’s similarly great CHIKARA vs. ROH edition.

That is not entirely the case here.

More often than not, these matches have some unifying story, if not tying together most of the major ones in the company. Usually team captains who are feuding and a month away from meeting in a blow-off match at the end of the season. It doesn’t always lead to the greatest combinations at the end or winners, CHIKARA being CHIKARA and all, but there’s usually a guiding concept and a focus behind everything.

Except in 2009, when — as CHIKARA seemed to do most of the year, likely sensing the chance afforded by the sudden change in Ring of Honor — the match became more about simply delivering a great match.

There were two major problems with this.

Firstly, a little less impactfully, was the choice to split eight tag teams up in a parejas increibles style, which is both a novelty that wears off after about half the match, and also something that doesn’t feel explored nearly enough (the two might be related). I’m not really sure how it would work with the batting order unless the got a little boring with it, at least at the start, but I think that might have solved some of the issues this had with repetition, if the company was always so inclined to make this edition of the match a lighter and faster fireworks-based display.

Secondly, and more obviously, it’s a little long and not everyone is all that great in it. There’s a longer Lince Dorado vs. Frightmare section in the middle that’s real real average where the match first begins to lose momentum, but in general, they go too fast from the start for a near fifty minute thing, eliminations or not. That first third or first half or so is a lot of fun, a million moving parts and them all mostly working crisply, but when nothing develops out of that and it never really escalates into a higher level fireworks show, combined with some more flubs and miscues coming later in the match, something gets lost. There’s a moment when the go to a mini dive train when the pace and intensity begins to mount, only to then go back to a lighter medium-grade back and forth, and it feels like it never totally finds its footing on such a high level again. The match, again in a CHIKARA Cibernetico, also misuses its assets, opting to showcase the Pinkie Sanchez in disguise fraud Carpenter Ant as its winner, and never quite becomes all it can be as a result of these choices.

Peak CHIKARA (07-11) being what it was though, something about it still works.

Between the pace, the gimmick always keeping things somewhat fresh, a line up this good (at the time), and a construction that at least keeps enough quality pieces around until the end even if a loser idea is the focal point, there’s something entertaining happening far more often than there isn’t. The combinations of guys like the original ants, Hallowicked, Quack, Jigsaw, the Bucks when they were just fun little flip dealers, the same for a masked Ricochet, etc., are all really good, and if underachieving, it’s a match that is almost always offering up good wrestling, and that very often drifts into great wrestling, as poorly organized as it all is.

Essentially, a fireworks show that never really builds and lacks the grand finale of the great ones, but that still offers up enough bright lights in enough interesting patterns to be worth my while.

The match isn’t perfect. Above all, it might be an example that in a match like this, you have to turn it up or go somewhere at some point. All the same, there are no major infuriating sins, it’s a forty to fifty minute long match that never becomes excruciatingly long, and there’s just too much breezy and good wrestling in it.

It’s just a little too much fun not to like.

***1/5

Mike Quackenbush vs. Madison Eagles, CHIKARA King of Trios 2018 Night Three (9/2/2018)

As with previous big CHIKARA event deep niche dream matches like Quackenbush/Kidd or, to a lesser extent, Quackenbush/Sabre Jr., this is another one of those matches that selects its audience before the bell even rings.

This is less one of those matches just because of the style, but also because of who they are. They get to that point in wildly different ways of course. Quackenbush having had a lot of exposure, but being a remarkably offputting weirdo of course, and Eagles simply being one of the most underrated professional wrestlers of the twenty first century, largely because her scene(s) often felt like they only occasionally had the opponents and situations to highlight her the way other all-world and all-decade level independent wrestling Ace figures in their primes had consistently.

So, to reiterate —

Barring those who are newer to both, or maybe like one or the other without too much exposure to the other half of the match, or who like grappling based matches in general but haven’t entirely branched out yet, you know ahead of time if this is going to be for you, probably.

For the most part, nobody is going to watch this match who isn’t already inclined to like it a whole lot. If you are some sort of boring water-brained weirdo who doesn’t like this sort of grappling-based riffing it out sort of pro wrestling for any number of shit headed reasons, this is not for you (and that includes this site too, probably). If you are going to disqualify a match because Quack is a big ol’ geek or because he’s a shithead in real life, or because CHIKARA hosts some real eye-rolling stuff at this point at other points on a show (including this one, look at the cagematch for it, I mean god damn), you know, you were probably never going to watch this to begin with.

I love that.

I love that for you, but way more importantly, I love that for me.

For seventeen or eighteen minutes, Quackenbush and Eagles wrestle the sort of match that primarily appeals to the sorts of people who will watch it sight unseen and for the people whose eyes lit up seeing it on a card or the people whose eyes will light up whenever and however they learn about it for the first time. Part of that is in terms of the science of the thing, as two masters of matches like this trade holds and bounce ideas off of each other, each of them cooler and a little meaner than the last in a display of a perfect sort of chain wrestling match that not only offers all of these wonderful displays (as well as a really great Quackenbush selling performance in the last third of the match), but that crafts something where they evolve and each one, and the match as a whole, builds on top of them.

The match, like those others, again strikes a light tone at first that becomes more and more serious, but also one that goes about it in a different way.

Eagles isn’t quite the secret villain that ZSJ was in 2017 or that Quackenbush is as a wrestler, and plays the match with a little more of an antagonistic approach as opposed to the SHIMMER Living Legend stuff of more recent years, but that fits into the framework just as well. The match comes off as Eagles being frustrated at a wrestler who is as good as her on the ground, but also too big to bully around with her size like she does whenever she winds up in that spot elsewhere, and eventually has to just find a way through it by being more careful and cautious, which appears to annoy her more than anything in a fascinating touch.

Madison finally gets get break when an especially mean STF seems to hurt Quackenbush’s leg, and he can never really get right again. It lets her begin throwing some bombs out there, and more than that, it both removes Quackenbush’s greatest defense, but also opens him up for Eagles on both ends of the matcch. He has trouble running, going up top takes just enough time that he never actually successfully hits anything off of the top rope, and more than anything else, Eagles has an easy point of attack that gives her the exact opening to win.

(Secretly, there’s a really fun kind of mirror of the Quackenbush match against another SHIMMER all-timer in Sara Del Rey from 2011 here, now seeing Quackenbush on the other end of an assault on the knee. I would never suggest this was intentional, of course. Quack/SDR was not exactly this ultra popular reference point, and as with anything in CHIKARA, if they meant to do it, they would have made it a point to mention it ten thousand times, but it’s a really neat little thing that happened.)

Robbed of his best skill, Quackenbush tries to evade, only for Madison Eagles to also figure that out too. She dives on his hurt leg when he tries to step around her, and goes back to the STF that started the entire thing. This time though, she’s in a much stronger position and yanks back even harder, resulting in a real satisfying tap out.

Quackenbush has yet another sensational weird little dream match, and in turn, Eagles gets to show for the second time this year that she’s one of the best wrestlers in the entire world. A match that thrills on a bunch of different levels, not only offering up a showcase of a bunch of inventive holds and neat ideas, but also getting to see the far more likeable wrestler solve a problem in real time, culminating with the joy of seeing someone not only get Quack, but to make him submit too.

It’s a success in every way that this match could possibly succeed.

One of the year’s best.

***1/3

 

Jonathan Gresham vs. Mike Quackenbush, Beyond Spirit of 76 (1/27/2018)

This was for Gresham’s PBTV (later IWTV) Independent World Title.

As is the case with so many Mike Quackenbush matches in the last half of the decade, this is primarily one just for us perverts out there. The real grappling freaks and old CHIKARA heads (or at least CHIKARA heads from a period where weird Quack matches were one of the central draws, rather than ten year comic book ass stories about a German conglomerate and a magical mind control device).

To reiterate, once again:

You know ahead of time, in most cases, if this is going to be for you. If you are some sort of boring water-brained weirdo who doesn’t like this sort of wrestling for any number of shit headed reasons, this is not for you (and that includes this site too, probably). If you are going to disqualify a match because Quack is a big ol’ geek or because he’s a shithead in real life, you know, you were probably never going to watch this to begin with.

I love that. I love that for you, but way more importantly, I love that for me.

This is maybe not EXACTLY one just for the grappling perverts, as Jonathan Gresham’s ringside support of Stokely Hathaway and MJF along with his more solidly antagonisticc routine points the match in a kind of traditional pro wrestling direction, but for the most part, this is yet another delightfully kind of self-selecting match.

What we get is fifteen minutes of the sweetest science.

It is a little more mainstream than other post-regular schedule Quackenbush outings, there is a clear hero and villain and a clear point of focus in Quackenbush’s left arm, but the core element of the thing is the same. Beautiful holds, cool transitions, a story about Quackenbush frustrating a younger technical master, and a match that makes very little apologies about what it is and who it’s for.

Delightful professional wrestling.

***1/4

Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Mike Quackenbush, CHIKARA Johnny Kidd Invitational (6/18/2017)

This was a 1st Round match in the Johnny Kidd Invitational.

Similar to their first match over WrestleMania Weekend, as well as the matches that both Zack and Quackenbush have had with Johnny Kidd himself in recent years, this is a match that once again has a way of choosing its own viewing audience. Not to do the entire thing again, you can read it in the reviews linked above, but for any number of reasons down to style or neither man being the best person, nobody is watching this who isn’t going to love this exact sort of a match, and it frees both Sabre Jr. and Quackenbush up to once again have a lovely sort of bullshit wrestling nerd ass grappling contest.

The first match between these two is still very much the superior match.

In that match, they told effectively the same story but with a little more depth (Quack doesn’t lose this time because of a desperate overreach, but simply because Zack catches him, which is hardly the worst thing in the world, but simply not as dynamic) and with a significant amount more time in eight more minutes, and in front of what felt like a livelier crowd with the Mania Weekend bunch compared to the Wrestle Factory faithful, which at this point, is maybe at least one-third of a government watchlist.

Still, this is a great match in its own right.

One thing I did love here was that, through sheer circumstance or some deeper planning, the cordial nature of the first match — or at least the masks both of these sociopaths put on for the world at the start — is far less present. That’s not to say it is totally gone, the conceit of both wrestlers lies with those masks and that false cordiality, but it seems like the level of patience is so so so much lower on the second go around. I loved that. Absolutely ate that shit up. It especially makes sense given that that’s mostly down to Zack’s reactions here, as he is the meaner of the two by far (Quack has always been presented more as an aloof weirdo who gets mad when pushed or challenged as a technician, whereas Zack has repeatedly shown to be kind of innately mean spirited and bitter no matter what) and has already done this, and seems increasingly annoyed when (a) Quack keeps the bit up like they didn’t end the last match pissed at each other & (b) when he already beat Quackenbush.

Besides that neat little wrinkle though, it’s nothing all that new with these two.

A faster and lighter version of the first match, down to way everything kind of unfolds. Quackenbush has Zack’s measure on the ground, so he picks up the pace and relies on his speed to take Quackenbush down. He can’t get him on a cradle this time, so he reels off a snap Half Nelson Suplex with a bridge and gets Quackenbush that way.

More of an encore or a reimagining of the original than a direct sequel, but with these two, it’s just so nice to see them do this sort of thing again that it’s hard to get too bent out of shape about that. Any time the masters get back to work at a thing like this, it’s one more match like this in the world than there was before the bell, in a scene that badly needs changes of pace like these matches provide.

***

 

Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Mike Quackenbush, CHIKARA Bad Wolf (4/1/2017)

WrestleMania Weekend 2017 gets its grapplefuck classic and the best match of the weekend, and surprisingly, it comes out of CHIKARA, meaning that not only is it an impressive match for this weekend, but the best match this company has put forth in nearly four years.

Like other matches like this — both in terms of the people involved and the style it’s wrestled in — there is sort of a self-selection to who watches it, and so I will rephrase and say this once again. The people who watch this are almost guaranteed to at least like it, and like me, most of you will probably love it. If you are some sort of boring water-brained weirdo who doesn’t like this sort of wrestling, this is not for you (and that includes this site too, probably). If you are going to disqualify a match because Quack is a big ol’ geek or because he’s a shithead in real life, or because CHIKARA hosts some real eye-rolling stuff at this point at other points on a show, you know, you were probably never going to watch this to begin with. Why hell, you’re probably not even reading this review to begin with!

I love that.

I love that for you, but way more importantly, I love that for me.

This is one just for us fellas.

Mechanically, it is a god damned DELIGHT.

Zack and Quackenbush are incredible at this, and this is a match that thankfully sticks entirely within their wheelhouses. That’s not so much a worry with Quack, who has aged into knowing exactly what he’s great at and primarily only doing that, but for Zack who has been all over the place in his matches this weekend (the previously reviewed ACH match, one of the worst EVOLVE title matches ever against Big Mike on 3/31, will have a good match against Mark Haskins later in the day), it’s a refreshing show of control, whether or not that decision comes from him or not. The match sticks almost entirely to grappling and it is so cool. Brand new holds, sick counters and transitions, fighting on just about everything, and a real struggle at all times. Not only over each hold individually, but a struggle to really establish anything, and to really have any sort of prolonged control over any direction this winds up going.

That struggle isn’t just something expressed mechanically, but it becomes part of the story of the thing too, two wrestlers with a lot in common not only trying to outdo each other, but having to reckon with these horrible funhouse mirror versions of themselves.

Both of these guys are kind of the same in a lot of aspects. They know a thousand different holds and counters, they were likely heroes to different generations of fans who liked a lot of the same stuff before accusations or total radio silence about accusations made that feel weird in retrospect, and primarily, they’re both skinny grapplers who are just sort of unlikeable and hiding extraordinarily petty dark sides within whenever anyone outdoes them. Zack moreso than Quackenbush (not entirely for xenophobic reasons but when comparing different sorts of aloof nerds who are actually extraordinarily petty just barely below the surface, a union jack does help make that decision clearer, plus Quackenbush is able to sell panic and frustration and other emotions in a more sympathetic way than Zack is often times), but it’s a quality that comes pouring out of both men.

The joy of this match is that it is wrestling as a conversation.

Part of being wildly similar sort of psychotic freaks is that both Zack and Quack start with a smile and some talk, but absolutely none of it seems sincere at all. They joke around with each other talking about their holds and counters, one-upping each other, and it’s all done with a smile, but it so phony in the best possible way. They always look unbelievably pissed off when they’re not looking at each other or stuck in holds that give them more trouble than they’d have against anyone else, before putting those bullshit grins back on their face when they look at each other again, and it is genuinely so interesting. Usually, the play with one of these wrestlers is to have one of them slowly revealed as false against another wrestler like this, like the Gresham/Sabre Jr. trilogy, or any number of 2010s Quackenbush matches, but pairing two wrestlers like this against each other is such a novel concept. Type against type doesn’t often work like you’d think, except in a circumstance like this when it absolutely does, and nothing is like it.

It takes almost nothing for the veneer to slip, and when it does, it’s beautiful.

There’s not some single point when a switch flips here. It’s not Zack’s first uppercut of Quack’s hard slap in response, it’s not a surprise German Suplex from Quackenbush late in the match, or anything so obvious. The holds get meaner and tighter and more complex as the top this mentality leads them to less friendly places, the counters come harder, strikes become a little more plentiful, and at some point in that process, the phony niceness is simply gone.

Something else about this that rules is that absolutely nothing is solved.

Nobody really outwrestles the other here, at least not in the ways that they clearly want to. Zack Sabre Jr. learns absolutely nothing when Quack schools him here and there. Quack is never really outdone by the younger grappler either. Things get more intense, and all that really comes out of this are minor differences that aren’t inherently advantages. Zack Sabre Jr. is better at getting into his stock holds than Quackenbush is, but Quackenbush is much better at improvising, performing grappling alchemy and pulling new things out of thin air. Neither is shown to be a more important or stronger skill, so much as it’s just a difference in the games of the two.

In the end, Zack Sabre Jr. wins not because he ever outdid the old man or because of his ability to get to His Stuff easier, but simply because Quackenbush made a mistake that he didn’t. In turning the heat up, Quackenbush overreaches and takes a risk he’s not quite so adept at. He falls off of a springboard, barely recovers, and hits an angry back senton followed by a lift for a big bomb that feels like an attempt to end the match quick now that he’s finally thrown off. Zack Sabre Jr. reads the response entirely correctly, slips out, and grabs a quick European Clutch for the win.

Neither man throws the other off, as they spent so much of the match trying to do, and instead it’s Quackenbush’s own annoyance at his totally minor mistake that costs him, which feels absolutely perfect.

The way it happens is very much unplanned, but it fits the match so much better than anything they could ever dream up. In a largely even contest, it’ a lack of recent ring time that costs Quackenbush, both in his minor slip and his overreaction to it. Zack Sabre Jr. is maybe not quite as skilled, but in a match like this, sometimes it’s just about who avoids that unforced error. It’s not the happiest ending, but it does feel like the most true to life one, which for a Zack Sabre Jr. match, may be the most stunning thing of all.

On a weekend full of otherwise largely disappointing Zack Sabre Jr. matches, a much better wrestler manages to reach in and pulls out one of the best Zack Sabre Jr. matches of his entire peak. Something close to the ideal version of a thing, and even if it feels like they maybe have an even better match in them, you don’t want to chance

***1/2

Mike Quackenbush vs. Drew Gulak, CHIKARA Supremacy (12/3/2016)

Even if he spent most of his tenure over the last eleven years here under another identity, it’s Drew Gulak paying farewell to CHIKARA, and it’s a momentous occasion.

Given that most of Quack’s 2010s post-full time schedule work are these lighthearted grappling and science based affairs against the likes of a Johnny Saint or Billy Roc or Zack Sabre Jr. it seemed obvious that Gulak would it into that sort of a match. Gulak’s as much of a grapple-fuck style guy as any of them, he works the style he does, and he’s one of the more famous and accomplished CHIKARA Wrestle Factory graduates at that. If he was going to go out against Quack, you’d think it would be another version of those matches one Gulak never really got to have on this level.

To the utmost credit of both men, that’s not what happened at all.

Certainly, the match has a lot to offer in that regard. A great deal of this is conducted on the ground, and it is what you’d expect for two of the better technicians of the century to date. It’s smooth, it’s gritty (Quack never got enough credit for the way he would inject some struggle into things, largely because he also made many of the worst facial expressions in the world), and there’s a great sense of escalation to what they do off of their feet.

Beautifully though, this is a far meaner and nastier match than I would have expected.

Tempers flare early on when both men get a little more intense by going for the knees, shots get thrown and in particular to Quackenbush’s notoriously hurt back, and the match never really becomes purely scientific again.

It is a thousand percent to this match’s benefit.

Gulak and Quackenbush are both at their best when they abandon a lot of the pretense and get shitty and petty with opponents, so naturally, it is a perfect fit when they decide to do that to each other. Every shot is loud as hell, and they’re all thrown with an extra sense of pettiness to it. A long relationship breaking down in to this in a moment of pressure, Gulak being as he’s always been under his own name, and Quackenbush’s manners once again disintegrating under the slightest hint of trouble.

When the match gets meaner, it gets MEANER. Elbows and clubs to the back and little wrenches on the knees. There’s a switch that flips around halfway through here, and while that switch flicks gradually in the other direction, it flicks all the same. Respect vanishes, there’s so much more force and intensity in every single thing that happens from that moment on. Even cradles and roll up trap counters have an increased urgency and desperation to them, which is the most impressive thing of all. “Everything” doesn’t just mean the real hard shots, the stuff that it’s easy to make feel spirited and mean, it means all of the smaller and more miniscule stuff too.

In the end, Quackenbush wastes too much time, never quite having the killer instinct Gulak does, and the Quackendriver I is dropped out of and into the Gulock for the win. Not the absolute best they could have done maybe, but an absolutely perfect finish. Gulak wins because he has what Quackenbush never one hundred percent developed, finally beating his trainer because he’ll grab the biggest thing he’s got when the moment comes, rather than showing off or simply being casually rude like Quackenbush.

A lovely departure, and more of a surprising one than a fitting one, bringing EVOLVE to CHIKARA for the night. Yet another more hidden gem out of Gulak’s 2016, and out of Quackenbush’s career at large.

***1/4

Mike Quackenbush vs. Johnny Kidd, CHIKARA Aniversario: Chamber of Secrets (5/28/2016)

This was a World of Sport Rules match.

(It is also announced as Kidd’s final match by the ring announcer, but as anyone who can look at Cagematch can tell you, that is patently untrue. There was a retirement tour of sorts in 2016, but he would be back within eighteen months. Pro wrestling, baby.)

A match this is sort of self-selecting in terms of viewership in a way that I really respect.

For the most part, nobody is going to watch this match who won’t like it.

You know ahead of time, in most cases, if this is going to be for you. If you are some sort of boring water-brained weirdo who doesn’t like this sort of wrestling for any number of shit headed reasons, this is not for you (and that includes this site too, probably). If you are going to disqualify a match because Quack is a big ol’ geek or because he’s a shithead in real life, or because CHIKARA hosts some real eye-rolling stuff at this point at other points on a show, you know, you were probably never going to watch this to begin with.

I love that.

I love that for you, but way more importantly, I love that for me.

What we have as a result is a match for the true maniacs.

Twenty four minutes of the god damned sweet science. Sick reversals, cool holds, fun little bits that let in some entertainment but without it ever overpowering the contest. A slow and steady escalation of pace and intensity, furthered in tiny little ways, but all ones that matter. Little bits of storytelling like Kidd knowing more, but Quack being a little younger and a lot quicker. Nothing that shouts that at you, but again, there’s a kind of self-selection at play I think, where anyone who really needed that to be done likely wouldn’t have loved this match anyways. What matters is that the little things telling these small stories all matter, each finish in the match is about these ideas. Kidd’s first fall comes from him getting a little meaner to open Quack up for a pin, and Quack’s comes from shrugging off the respect and picking up the pace, outmaneuvering the old man before going into his own. It’s wonderful. It’s easy and cool and fun as hell.

In the end, time runs out, and the clock stays unbeaten.

For Kidd, the time runs out in his attempt to beat Quack for the “last” time. Too long is spent warming Quack up so he can bring up the intensity in the back half, unable to get him hot and bothered like he did to Zack Sabre Jr. in a similar match the year before. For Quack, time runs out in his attempt to beat Kidd after failing to in a similar match seven years prior in Germany. He’s a little less starstruck and a little more ready, looking more and more like he’s going to win as the match unfurls itself, but without enough time to effectively close in on a third fall that seems like a guarantee to fall in his direction.

There isn’t enough time to do everything that they ever wanted to do, but thankfully more than enough to do everything everyone else needed them to do.

One of the best matches of the year, provided you’re right for it.

***1/2

Mike Quackenbush vs. Drew Gulak, WIA In the Abstract (2/17/2013)

Wrestling Is had a bunch of different subpromotions (Art, Fun, Awesome, Intense, Respect, a C word? Cool? anyways they all spelled CHIKARA together) as part of some weird CHIKARA bullshit. I don’t know. Honestly, by this point they’ve lost me and I don’t especially care to be found. It’s all actually good as hell, because Wrestling Is [x] gives people time to just goddamned wrestle.

I could not think of two better CHIKARA guys that I’d rather see just goddamned wrestle. Quack’s a shithead, whatever, but this is him totally in his element and it is so easy to watch.

It’s a fifteen minute or less opening match on a B show, but that doesn’t particularly matter with this pairing, because they’re just gonna grapple for virtually the entire match anyways. It’s a pairing that isn’t hurt at all by the circumstances meaning they’re not going to go “big” with it, and in all probability, may have been helped out by being allowed to just riff it out down on the ground. It’s another of these wonderful 2012-2013 proto GRAPPLEFUCK style encounters, the best thing to happen to independent wrestling all decade stylistically. Everything they do is cool, crisp, and smooth, and while it perhaps lacks the violence of Timothy Thatcher at his best or the wizardry of Zack Sabre Jr. at his best, there’s always a clear competition going on at the heart of the thing.

Teacher and student is the heart of it, but that’s not all that it is by the end. The match begins that way before branching off into a struggle for pace as much as it’s each man trying to top the other. Quackenbush needs things to be faster to win, and he has more flash and showmanship to the things he tries to do. In contrast, Gulak stretches Quackenbush out with more aggression and what seems like a stronger sense of purpose. Quackenbush is versatile in the way someone in his position always is and often has to be, but Gulak is young and dogmatic, and wants to make Quackenbush tap out. He rarely goes for anything but a submission, and even gets a little dirty at the end by going after Quack’s bad wrist. Quackenbush is versatile though, and turns the match into the faster sort that Gulak is less suited towards. The rigidity of Gulak’s attack costs him, and Quack is able to outmaneuver and get him into the Alligator Clutch for the win.

A wonderful wonderful thing. A technical clinic wrapped up inside of something broader and much more universal.

***1/2

 

Eddie Kingston vs. Mike Quackenbush, CHIKARA High Noon (11/13/2011)

(ANOTHER DISCLAIMER: nothing I say here should be read as praise for Mike Quackenbush the person. This is going to be an overwhelmingly positive review, so let’s get it out of the way very early on. Fuck him. It doesn’t erase a remarkable body of work, and while I’m not ever going to tell someone to go out of their way to watch someone’s work if it makes them uncomfortable, this is perhaps the Quackenbush matches that holds up the best out of all of them because of the result. Again though, not praise for anything but the professional work. If that’s a problem, x out of this one, it’s fine. I’m not upset, it’s a valid thing to do. You might be a little bummed about the 2011 YEAR IN LISTS too because he had a hell of a year, but also that’s just gonna be like a thing this decade when the British scene gains more and more prominence in the middle of the decade. I don’t know what to do about that. Sorry.)

This was the finals of the 12 Large Summit and the inaugural match for the CHIKARA Grand Championship.

Before watching this, one should watch The Eddie Kingston Promo. THE Eddie Kingston promo. It’s the realest, rawest, and most emotional piece ever put out by a guy renowned for cutting real, raw, and emotional promos. It’s one of three to five promos that I would call the best of the decade. In the right frame of mind, you could tell me it’s the best promo of all time. No argument. It’s that good.

The idea of a “money promo” is sort of lost on people of my generation. It’s a cool concept, the whole “talk them into the arenas” thing, but I never really felt promos like that. I’ve been brought to arenas by angles that made me want to see something. I bought a ticket to my first ROH show because I wanted to see CM Punk murder Jimmy Rave in a steel cage, etc. Promos have never really done that for me. I had fallen out of CHIKARA over the last year or two, between moving two states over, a brief drug addiction, not having a great computer or internet connection or money for DVDs like I did as a teenager, throwing myself into college, tutoring, work, all of the things that get in the way of tertiary parts of a hobby. But, I saw this and I needed to see Eddie Kingston do this thing.

I bought the show because of this promo.

It’s an important match, to say the least. It’s the biggest match in CHIKARA history, as its longest delayed major singles match, the first match for the debuting singles title, the finals of the most important tournament CHIKARA ever ran, *and* the main event of the company’s first ever iPPV. It’s so overwhelmingly important that “payoff of a years long redemption story for the company’s all time greatest hero” isn’t a guaranteed number one reason. That is still a hell of a reason though. Having it come against Quackenbush is maybe the greatest little touch in all of this. Eddie Kingston could have done this by finally overcoming Claudio Castagnoli (and was maybe supposed to?) or another student, but it’s the ultimate validation to instead have it come not only against his trainer, but against this guy, this monolith of what CHIKARA is, this monument to How Things Are Supposed To Be Done. Bryan is gone, Hero is gone(ish), all these people are gone, and Mike Quackenbush is all that’s left of the now-old unemotional technical genius archetype that used to be the trademark of all the old kings. It’s always been the contrast to the wild emotionality of Eddie Kingston. Every outburst, turn, bender, and step over the line Eddie’s done in and/or around CHIKARA has stood out in contrast to the calm consistency of guys like Quackenbush, Castagnoli, and Hero atop the promotion in the past. If this is Eddie Kingston’s official and formal ascent to that position, it’s also Quackenbush formally becoming the last of a dying breed himself. This match is the closest thing we ever had to a real and proper changing of the guard match from style to style and era to era, even if that change already happened (I would put the marker down here at the 2011 BOLA, for the main event, Generico finally beating Claudio, and the Kings putting the Young Bucks over).

It especially stands out as such because of how literally they take that, and how literally they take the styles clash. Each man has a definitive style they want to wrestle and while they are both completely capable of meeting in the middle, the most interesting approach is to make the subtext the actual text. The best part of the match for me might be the first minute, where Quack casually tries to go into his usual wristlocks and Eddie immediately asserts himself with an elbow out the first time and a chop out the second. The trademark level head allows Quackenbush to keep at it, but when Eddie’s leg gives out running off the ropes, Quackenbush wastes no time getting serious. It’s a major strength that they not only take no more than a minute or two to really get into the meat of the thing, but also that it’s a moment with real weight behind it if someone’s been following along.

A month ago, Mike Quackenbush fought Sara Del Rey in the de facto semi finals. Sara had no history of leg injuries, and Quackenbush similarly made a decision early on to target the knee, stuck with it, and won as a result. Eddie Kingston has a history of knee problems. They’ve cost him against Castagnoli. They’ve cost him against Danielson. They’ve cost him a lot of times in a lot of matches, it’s not just about these losses to wrestlers like Mike Quackenbush, but it’s also a lot about this familiar situation coming around again, now with a little more recent history to hang over it. Of course, Eddie Kingston’s selling is terrific. I’ll say it until people accept it as a truism, Eddie Kingston is the best knee seller of his generation. I only fail to call him the best knee seller of all time because Toshiaki Kawada was a little better, and he was the best wrestler of an entire decade. Eddie is so good at this. All the little touches, all the big touches. I wrote about Moxley vs. Regal that aired a week before this that Moxley’s arm selling felt real because at every point that a pro wrestler might do something minor because it’s how you do a thing, Moxley would do it in a way that a man with one arm would do it. Eddie Kingston is the same way with the leg, and he succeeds for all the same reasons, because he feels realer than everything else around him.

Just as much credit belongs with Quackenbush for how great this match is. I know that’s…you know, whatever. Feel how you feel, it’s all valid. Being a piece of shit doesn’t erase the work done, all of that, it’s not a conversation I feel the need to put into print here, so I think we can leave it there and in the disclaimer. But he’s so great here. The little facial tics reacting to not only not being the firm favorite, but a crowd and the increasing mass at ringside, mostly students of his, all being 100% against him for any number of reasons. The mechanical work itself. He also gets meaner and meaner, not just about the hurt knee, but in general. He goes to the eyes at a point! It’s perfect for Eddie’s big moment, validating every point he ever made about CHIKARA’s superheroes/Super Friends.

It’s a fascinating performance that not only takes him further than he’s ever gone as a character, elevating the situation beyond what it already was, but turns him into a representation of something else. An old order to be torn down, this symbol of everything Eddie still has to get past and overcome. I think this match ages incredibly no matter what, but with everything that’s gone on in 2020, it’s the aspect of this match that ages the best. It would be one thing for me to hold this up given what’s gone on, but with the match turning Quackenbush into a monolith to be torn down, it’s entirely possible that for some people, this might be an even better match now because of it. I don’t know. It didn’t factor into the latest viewing of this classic, but I’m not you. Give it a shot.

The match, essentially, is Mike Quackenbush trying to plug a damn. He can’t let Eddie get moving and do Eddie Kingston stuff. Quackenbush can win in his match, and absolutely cannot win in Eddie Kingston’s match. Once the dam breaks, he’s fucked, and he knows it. When it breaks open finally, the match is over within a minute. It’s incredibly cool to see how totally correct that little estimation is. It’s a little touch that, in the background of Eddie Kingston’s crowning moment, puts Quackenbush over as this old little genius who had the complete right read on a situation. Eddie does too though, even if he has to make a concession to the old ways just this once. Eddie knocks Quackenbush off the top rope near the end with a Backfist to the Future to the legs. It’s a magnificent bump by Quackenbush, and while he’s not quite Eddie, he does a nice little job selling the damage to the leg. It’s the opening Eddie needs to begin to unload, and he does. It’s a concession to every complaint about Eddie never stopping to think, but a concession ultimately doesn’t mean shit if Eddie wins anyways.

A barrage of suplexes leads to two Backfists to the Future in a row, and Eddie Kingston wins the 12 Large Summit, the Grand Championship, and so much more than that which cannot be summed up within a trophy or a belt.

It’s the emotional high point of the entire company. It is the long long long overdue catharsis for one of independent wrestling’s all time great characters and heroes. It’s a match that you could realistically call the best singles match in company history. I wouldn’t, this is a Fire Ant vs. Vin Gerard loyalist blog (and Kingston/Castagnoli III in 2009 beyond that too), but it’s the sort of thing someone could say to me and I wouldn’t argue with it or be mad at all. It’s a completely logical thing to say and to believe in. Beyond what it means, it’s also just an incredibly tight match. It’s among the most efficient epics in the history of U.S. independent wrestling. It’s pared down and austere as hell (like most of the tournament, which is SO cool to have reflected in the finals), but it’s all great — every goddamned second — so it doesn’t matter. There is a point to to everything that they do, everything in the match matters, and there is stunningly little fit on it. Every piece of this matters and has value. It matters, it’s perfectly constructed, and beyond that, it feels good as hell.

This match is both great and Important, and you should absolutely make the time for it if you haven’t yet somehow.

****

 

 

Mike Quackenbush vs. Sara Del Rey, CHIKARA Small But Mighty (10/7/2011)

This was a Block A match in the 12 Large Summit, and effectively a block final.

The final 12 Large match I’m going to cover on here is a perfect match to show why this tournament was so cool. Beyond just being a first time match, it’s an incredibly fun styles clash that no other promotion probably would have ever thought to book. It’s two fully three dimensional characters being thrown at each other with something on the line, where the match once again feels less like two wrestlers plugged into a match and instead of like a match specifically that only these two could have had in this exact way. I would love to one day be able to sum up that sort of idea without it feeling clunky. Today is still not the day that that happens.

Very specifically though, this is a match that works because it feels exactly correct. Mike Quackenbush is a better technician than anyone left on the independent scene, but Del Rey is a Bryan student and experienced enough to make it really hard on him. She also knows Quackenbush well enough now after over a year and a half of BDK vs. CHIKARA tags that it’s very hard for Quack to wrestle the kind of match he usually does. Specifically to that point, Sara does not take Mike’s fancy shit initially and beats the crap out of him, forcing Quackenbush to get uncommonly rude (on screen) to take over. Quackenbush specifically kicks out Del Rey’s right knee and spends the match working on it. Del Rey fights him every step of the way, as stubborn as always, and it only makes Quack meaner and more aggressive in response. It’s perfect work from Quackenbush. He ties her up, kicks or blocks the knee out when it becomes too tough, and always gets just a little bit nastier. It’s a little weird to think of him as any kind of hero now, but he’s specifically very good here as walking that very thing tightrope. He’s never a bad guy in this match, but he does things in just the specifically correct sort of ways to ensure that you are getting behind Del Rey, while never losing what his character is. Perfect flagbearer/face of the company/measuring stick kind of work.

For her part, Sara Del Rey is wonderful. They’re both in a similar kind of spot as these more hard nosed veteran wrestlers and for as good as Quack is with all of the little touches to tell you that he’s still good, but that this is about Sara as a sympathetic figure, Del Rey is maybe even better about actually just being that sympathetic figure. For whatever reason, I have trouble sometimes cheering for a purely wholesome put-upon babyface, but because this match begins with Sara beating the hell out of Quack and because she’s always able to turn it around through superior striking, I’m able to much more easily buy into her as a sympathetic character when her knee is being attacked. Someone just getting owned does way less for me than someone being hindered like this, against someone they’ve shown they could handle otherwise. Being close enough to grab something only for someone to move it just out of reach is way more frustrating than something being wholly out of reach.

On a mechanical level, Del Rey is not perfect in this, but she is just great enough to keep the match afloat while Quackenbush tears up the leg. A little sell here and there, a big attention grabbing One Legged Bridge for all of you out there who like that sort of thing. The damage is always just enough to stop her from making the most of everything she can do to Quackenbush, and she can do pretty much anything to Quackenbush. For his part, everything he does goes back to the leg, without fail. Once Del Rey has missed her best shot because of the pain the Royal Butterfly Suplex put her bad leg in, Quack attacks with a little more ferocity than before. Del Rey survives the Lightning Lock, so Quackenbush adapts it into a Stretch Muffler too. After shaking up and down on the distorted and punished limb, Quackenbush finally makes Del Rey tap out.

Mike Quackenbush wins Block A and makes it to the finals of the 12 Large Summit. He does so through know-how and a more calculated application of science than he’s shown in some time. Most importantly, he does so while the Block B winner, Eddie Kingston, watches from commentary, resting up his own chronic knee injury. Quackenbush did this to someone with a perfectly healthy leg who made zero mistakes in the match. Imagine what happens against someone more prone to losing their cool and who already has a bad knee. A bad knee that’s existed for years, and that’s been the easiest way to break down Eddie Kingston in match after match after match since it started to bother him. It’s perfect. Not as fantastical or intricately plotted out as CHIKARA’s other greatest stories, but as well executed and interesting as any of them.

Watch this if you think you can.

It’s nothing all that complicated, a straight line from point A to point B. One competitor is stronger and younger, until something happens. Actions then have consequences. Incredibly tight and meaningful mechanical work. Cool stuff based around that, before finishing at the right time and with the best and biggest piece of offense in the match. It’s a formula, executed in such a way that makes it feel completely unformulaic. This was always going to be about science up against force, but they approach it from a totally different angle than I would have expected, and it’s even more interesting in reality than on paper as a result.

***1/2