MLW Reload

1. Super Crazy vs. Fuego Guerrero - 4
2. La Parka vs. Shocker - 3
3. Christopher Daniels, Ikuto Hidaka and Dick Togo vs. The Maximos and Quiet Storm - 3
4. Terry Funk vs. Chris Candido - 3
5. The Sandman vs. Vampiro vs. Steve Corino - Street Fight - 2
6. Taiyo Kea vs. Sabu - 4
7. Satoshi Kojima vs. Jerry Lynn - 5

Adam scored nine of these MLW DVDs during an online sale awhile back and we’ve been watching them whenever we get together. This was the fourth we screened, and easily the worst of the bunch thus far.

Fuego is Amazing Red underneath a mask he got off Highspots, but delivers a decent outing here, actually pulling out some pretty decent sells, etc. He also does an absolutely crazy, flipping, spinning splash to the floor in visually arresting spot. This was a good opener, but hurt by Crazy, who was hamming it up a lot and not really on. La Parka and Shocked followed, and while both of these guys should have been capable of putting together something nicely, their match lacked any spark or flow. La Parka did a rolling senton to a standing Shocker for the finish, which looked bad, as Parka barely got any air and appeared to just stumble off the top into him.

The six-man has flashes of solid stuff, but unfortunately, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing, as this match just kept going, and going, and going. We were literally yelling at the screen, “just finish it!” and “bring it home, boys!” Even when really good opportunities to finish it happened, like a patented Dick Togo back senton bomb, or the Maximo’s “Spanish Fly” finisher it just wouldn’t stop. Sorry, I just don’t care enough about the Maximos and Quiet Storm (who all look exactly alike) to be into them going Broadway three matches deep into an independent show. Daniels’ best and worst traits are one and the same, his precision, as while offensively he strives for consistency and crispness, on the other end, all of his sells and bumps are always exactly the same.

I went to the restroom and came back and Candido and Funk were getting ready to start, I said, “this should be shit” and miraculously I was proven absolutely right. Funk bled, of course, and pudgy Candido and his bloated wife Tammy made this even more of an eyesore. One highlight was Funk trying to suplex Candido on a little wooden entrance ramp, it looked like one neighborhood kids and I would have ramped our bikes off of years earlier, but not getting him over all the way and Chris landing roughly on top of his skull. At one point Tammy got inside the ring and Funk bit her chunky ass, smearing blood all over her cellulite, Joey Styles said it best, “I’m about to puke.” The three-way was spectacularly shitty. Sandman was tanked, wrestling in street clothes, looking like a drunken derelict. The ring ended up littered with so much debris, props, and garbage. Corino really sucked, he’d take a really big bump, say a suplex on a piece of steel guardrail propped up against the ropes, then moments later immerge apparently unscathed to go to the next atrocious spot. I laughed my balls off near the end, as Vampiro sold something and made this outrageous face, like he was doing a fucking Popeye expression. Go eat some spinach, just make sure you wash it down with some Faygo at your next JCW romp.

The last two matches held the most interest on paper, and delivered the most entertainment in the ring, too. I’d never seen Taiyo before, but really liked that as absurd as Sabu is, he didn’t allow himself to get entirely brought down to his level of sleaze. Kea kept it simple and stiff, and while not a particularly stirring performance, made this one watchable. Sabu was well, Sabu, doing his usual contrived stuff, but still rifling off that right hand to my pleasure. The main event was to crown an MLW champion, so the drama should have been through the roof, but sadly it just wasn’t. Lynn’s selling was pretty terrific, all things considered, but this unruly Manhattan (I’ve never heard such vile things yelled at wrestlers before, ex: “you face-painted cokehead!” at Vampiro) crowd had blew their energy, and sat on their hands through this uniformly solid, yet ultimately placid main event.