Monday, November 30, 2009
Trent Acid v. Jimmy Rave (Iron Man Title- CZW Cage of Death 5, 2003) - 3
Was checking this show out and decided to really give this unique match a look, contested under 20 minute Iron Man Rules (which couldn't that be more considered Polyuerathane Man?) Anyways, this match showscases a classic example of a guy who is way better than he thinks, meaning Acid. Rave came out, head down, like a disgraced journalist vouyered upon, starting a babyface slow clap. Acid comes out with 6 pack abs, silver bright indy wrestling pants, grabbing his crotch more than a homie with crabs. They did the perfunctory armdrag exchange to start off with. Acid consistenly drew attention to his crotch during the match and you could tell this dude thought since he got blown so big in his home fed he was making it to the big time. Still looking for ya? He threw some of the sloppiest most inconsistent kicks this side of a Final Fight thug. Outside brawl was going as Acid tried a couple guardrails to move them back until he realized they were bolted to the floor. So he tries his asai moonsault anyways, but instead of just trying to hit the move and go balls out, he short shots and totally misses, looking like the steroid filled sleaze ball he really is. Also gets the first fall with a somersault legdrop that would make Scorpio quit smoking pot. Rave was constantly on defense, which wasn't all bad, but his face was a blank canvas and not in a good way, like before Frida Kahlo got a hold of it, but more like Jeff Hardy before a new piece for I Magi Nation. Crossface 2nd fall had decent heat and good finish. The final few minutes of this fell apart faster than Large Philly Cheese Steak from Penn Station. Rave was trying to hit his running knee while Acid was sitting down but missed, and then tried it again unsuccessfully a 2nd time as Acid stood there dumbfounded not knowing what they were doing. They looked like two people trying to finish a Sudoku puzzle in a pitch black cave. We got some bounus action until a pinfall was scored, and they had some cool rollups and reversals and stuff but a tacked on finish that came off well doesn't make up for the previous badly worked 20 minutes. Please, next time you run into Trent Acid on the streets of Philly, grab your crotch and thrust it at him, just don't be surprised if he tries to bargain his next meal for servicing it.