Bostonista Philadelphiaan olikin matkaa moottoriteitä pitkin piirun yli 300 mailia (muistakaa kerroin kooämmiksi 1,6), joten liikkeelle oli lähdettävä hyvissä ajoin. Automatka sujui yllättävän tasaisesti kolmen paikallisen painifanaatikon seurassa. Tien päällä ravitsemusvaihtoehdot voivat tosin käydä hieman köyhiksi – tällä kertaa piti tyytyä mäkkärin antimiin. Enkä ole tässä lausunnossa niinkään eettisellä pohjalla, vaan se sapuska on niin ilmaa, että nälkä palaa liian nopeasti.

Mielenkiintoinen näky tosin odotti sen asemalaarin pihassa, jossa kultaiset kaaretkin meitä syöttivät. Parkkipaikan viereinen viljapelto oli jostain syystä vuorattu alumiinifoliolla – siis siten että jokainen viljankorsi oli kääritty folioon. Avaruusoliot yrittävät lukea paikallisten ravintotuotteiden ajatuksia ja myrkyttää ne tätä kautta, jotta emme voisi syödä enää leipää, jolloin meistä tulisi helppoja kohteita massaorjuutukselle? Vai mitä sanotte tilanteesta, kun auringonvalo osui tähän foliopeltoon ja tuuli puhalsi kohti Philadelphiaa. Tällöin näes korsista heijastunut valo muodosti pienoisen lyhtyviirun kohti menosuuntaamme, jossa tummat pilvet alkoivat kerääntyä. Yrittikö luontoäiti sanoa, että ammattilaispaini on pahasta ja sinne tulisi lähettää valaistusta? Määh, kunhan kuvittelen.

 

Noin 7-tuntinen ajomatka ei valitettavasti jättänyt yhtään ylimääräistä aikaa Philadelphian tarkempaan kiertelyyn, joten kuvien otto tyylikkäistä paikoista ja Rocky-montaasit paikallisen taidemuseon portailla piti jättää toiseen kertaan. Phillyn eteläpuoli oli miljööltään suhteellisen karua, teollisuusalueelta vaikutti tiilikuutioineen ja pitkine katuineen. Tänne kohteemme läheisyyteen parkkeerasimme ensin yhden kuulemma kaupungin tunnetuimman urheilupub/ravintolan, Tony Lukesin äärelle. Ei rankkaa, hikistä vääntöä pidä yleisönkään seurata tyhjin vatsoin. Siellä matkaseurueemme paikallinen osio kehotti kokeilemaan juuri Philadelphialle perinteistä "cheesesteakia", juustopihviä nääs. Kyseessä on siis leipämurkina – pitkälti pehmoista patonkia muistuttavan leivän sisään aseteltu järjetön pinkka nautasiivuja, juustoa, ja sitten mitä mausteita halusikaan. Perinteisesti tämä sapuska ilmeisesti varustellaan "cheese wizillä", elikkä sillä purkista tursotettavalla tahnajuustolla, mutta valitsin mieluummin sulatetun pippurijuuston, lisäksi vielä väliin hieman punasipulia ja sopivasti banaanipippureita (kevyen asteen jalopenoja) niin avot! Ei tosiaan guurmeeta, mutta erittäin 1) maistuvaa sekä 2) täyttävää. Itse en muuta ruualtani juuri vaadikaan, joten suosittelen lämpimästi kaikille Phillyssä käyville juustopihviä.

 

ICHIBAN!

 

Ruokailun jälkeen siirryimmekin joukkion kanssa jonottamaan New Alhambra Arenan vierelle, jossa lössiä oli seisoskelemassa jo melkoisen mukavasti. Fanaatikoille tarkennettakoon tosiaan, että kyseinen rakennus tunnetaan myös nimellä the old ECW Arena. Samasta tönöstä käsin Paul Heymanin johdolla vuosina 1994-2001 Sabu, Rob Van Dam, Jerry Lynn, Sandman, Terry Funk, Cactus Jack, Tommy Dreamer, Raven, Taz, Dudleyt, Public Enemy, Dean Malenko, Chris Benoit, Eddie Guerrero, Rey Mysterio, Psychosis, Rhyno ja monet muut kovat jantterit lähtivät levittämään kultti-ilmiötä nimeltä Extreme Championship Wrestling. Ei ihan vähääkään historiallinen fiilinki, aamen. Nyt kuitenkin homman nimenä oli Ring Of Honor, joten eikun enkuksi taas!

 

The setup for the show was pretty sweet, with a big ramp and a video screen to boot. Opening match-time. Less surprisingly, Jerry Lynn was OVER in Philly. "Welcome back!" was the name of the game. Very cool to see him at the old ECW Arena. Short flashbacks of Lynn performing the smoothest of top rope sunset flip powerbombs through tables on RVD ran past my eyes. Oh, the thrill. No sunset bombs in this one, but a great match anyhoo. Newcomer Kenny King deserves props for being a brilliant cocky schlongsucker who you just love to hate. Much love also for the Cradle Piledriver. Lynn can definitely be an asset as the respected veteran showing that he still has it, and to quote Philly, "You still got it!" *clapclap-clapclapclap*

Adam Pearce - Brent Albright had a nice if unfortunate unpredictability to it because of Brent's arm injury the day before. He had it heavily taped and favoured it at several spots, although executing beautiful suplexes none the less. It was still his downfall as Pearce locked the Crowbar for the victory, exploiting the injury to it's fullest and regaining his NWA World Title. Besides the guys next to me, the crowd seemed definitely irate due to this turn of events. The match didn't reach the heat of their New York-title bout, but was good none the less.

Shiozaki - Steen was awesome with stiffness aplenty. It bares repeating that Go's chops are pure evil. Kevin once again took the cake for patching up minor slips into greatness. After sending Go outside, he ascended a turnbuckle but slipped slightly on the ropes. Part of the crowd of course "awww"ed on it and perhaps was about to go all "you ****ed up", but didn't get a chance as Steen launched himself with a beautiful Senton to the outside that flattened the FIP champ. Steen rolled pretty much straight onto his feet, immediately climbed to the same top turnbuckle and shrugged his shoulders to dismiss the slight slip-up, with the crowd roaring in rapt approval. He has charisma, he has an uncanny ability to seize a moment – he is Mr. Wrestling. The post-match attack from Nigel came out of nowhere and it's very interesting to see who he is picking as a partner because he seemed very serious about becoming the first ROH grand slam champ.

Dragon - Nakajima kept up the stiffness and Nakajima impressed according to the hype. Katsuhiko Nakajima was exactly the badass-kick machine we anticipated and he could even give Low Ki and run for his money. Some cool moves outside of the stiff strikes as well - definitely a big future player in the Japanese junior heavies. Debut-wise it didn't feel as unbelievably awesome as KENTA's in 2005 but the "Please come back!" chants were very warranted. Nakajima vs. the beefed…ney, sushied-up Davey Richards, anyone? *drool*

After intermission the man with the masterful hips blessed us again. "Rheeett Titus! Rheeett Titus!" Cut a good, sleazy promo involving jetskis. But poor Rhett trying his flexes on the brick wall of Erick Stevens. The match felt a bit random on paper, but it got a whole lot more serious when pretty much as his first offence, Titus hits a flying knee that busts open Stevens' nose big time. I'm talking about Triple H's entrance-level spurting here, just replacing water with your own blood. Dripping like a faucet. Stevens looked motherluving intense and the visual should be no less gruesome on DVD. After a few admirable thrusts Titus gets mauled. Sweeney comes in and fails to woo the bleeding Stevens in Sweet n' Sour, leading to a short gang-up, where among other nasty deeds, Stevens' head is placed between the middle of a standing chair and Shiozaki came down on his noggin with a flying knee. Ouch!

Roderick Strong and the Vulture Squad come in for the rescue and subsequent six-man tag, which was a lot of fun. Beautiful armdrags by Jigsaw. Razzle Dazzle! I must also say that Knock-Out Hero was a lot more entertaining this time around. I need to see the match he and Strong had in Dayton.

Ah, then streamers galore. My most anticipated moment of the night. SASAKI! SASAKI! SASAKI! Sensei Kensukeeeee! There he came, with the GHC Heavyweight belt gloriously on display. A human castle of shoulders and power! And then it hit me. Why are the people so relatively silent? What's going on? Yes, pockets of people here and there joining in on the vocal worship, great, but what is this mediocre hooting when there should be unadulterated screaming all around? Dammit people, this is Kensuke Sasaki! The most decorated Japanese heavyweight (only man in history of man to hold all three major puro-belts) ever! Stiff-master supreme! Chop-monster! The Northern Lights Bomber! Yes, I was aware that as a name Sasaki is not the mega-legend that say, Kobashi and Misawa are, but I was still perplexed.

Granted, the bout with Claudio did not turn out like I and probably many hoped. Kensuke dished out agonizing lariats and chops while Claudio kept good striking-grounds with his stiff uppercuts, but otherwise they didn't gel. Claudio seemed out of it. It just lacked fire, whatever that would have been in the context. But still the relative golf-clapping of the audience left me dumbfounded. The movez by Sensei sprung forth beautifully. Corner bulldog followed by monstrous lariat! Ipponzeoi! Frankensteiner! Tornado Bomb! But no, the mild reactions kept on rolling. I went half-mad with the locking of Stranglehold Gamma but saw mainly blank faces around me. Even the Northern Lights Bomb pulled out little bravo. It was über-cool to see the man, slap hands ringside and go all "domo arigato" on the spot, but I felt very deflated by the reactions. Was it the match itself? Was it the long night? Was it the admittedly obvious result? Was it just not being that familiar with Sasaki? I'm not sure. The match on it's own I liked a lot, but as has been often brought up, a crowd can make or break a moment. I gotta say this was not completely the context I hoped that I would remember seeing of one of my all time favourites in.

Fortunately my mind was quickly enough turned on the rise by the World Title-match between Nigel and El Generico. The set-up was much more gruelling then in Boston, as I love both Sir McGuinness and the generic luchador immensely. I just ended up rooting for both. Granted the audience seemed fatigued for a while even for this match as it started with Nigel methodically taking apart Generico's arm, but when things picked up…oh, how they picked up. Lots of great action and when Nigel began to unravel one of the turnbuckle paddings, I'm sure I wasn't the only one in the arena with a devastating vision. Exposed steel turnbuckle + BRAINBUSTAAAH! = :O But it all turned out to be a ruse as when the referee turned to tie the padding back on, Nigel took his title belt from ringside and aimed it at the wobbly Generico. Oh, the dastardly brilliance of our champion.

What? Kevin Steen with a run-in! SUPERKICK ON NIGEL! The whole house is standing! Generico dragged into the cover! The whole house is shrieking! :O:O:O NEW CHAMP!!¤"/#%&¤! ONE…TWO…THR…NOOO! Only two fingers by Turner displayed! THAT WAS THREE! THAT WAS THREE! THAT WAS THREE! Mayhem ensues. LARIATTTOOOH! Nigel covers…1…2…NO! The generic dream lives on! Into the exposed corner, side-step, huge Yakuza boot! Finger in the air…BRAINBUSTAAAH signaled! The crowd becomes unglued! Both men battle on the top turnbuckle. Swarms of OLÉs rattle the minds of the crowd. HE'S DOING IT, Generico manages to raise Nigel up…NO, his arm is too weak after all the abuse and both crumble backwards onto the mat…Nigel with a jack-knife roll-up…1, 2, 3! Sir McGuinness retains! What a contest. What a battle. Match of the night. S-P-E-C-T-A-C-U-L-A-R! And by no means a decisive victory – Mark my words, Nigel-Generico III will come and it will be molten, MOLTEN I tells ya!

Oh yeah, and the evening wasn't even over. Cage is standing, open the blood gates. I must admit, at this point I was drained. I couldn't speak coherently, every sound I tried to utter made my head hurt. Too much shouting. The combatants came out and we soon had Jacobs and Black taking Aries to the beatdown. Necro enters for a huge pop and starts swinging powerfully. Delirious and Jay Briscoe join with arms and chairs swinging! Me and the guy next to me were worried that Mark Briscoe was the last left to enter the match. "He's coming in through the roof" and the like were speculated. Fortunately for his safety, he came from the ramp. Unfortunately for his safety, carrying a barbed wire-covered table! Necro was courteous enough to help Mark push it into the ring.

Jay pushes Delirious onto a table set at ringside and climbs the cage…but Delirious rages up and leaps like a lizard onto the cage wall next to Jay! Fisticuffs! Delirious rips Jay down and the elder redneck crashes through the wood! Crazy brutality ensues. Five Masato Tanaka-level chair shots by Tyler and Jimmy on Necro! Brainbuster on him from Aries! He covers and Jimmy moves on top of both of them to ensure Necro's elimination. The crowd is not pleased, leading to much booing. For the remaining time, "We want Necro!"-chants spurt out occasionally with force, but do not bring him back.

Tyler and Mark battle near the barbed wire table set up against the corner, both coming very near to maximum pain. Exchanges…Black launches Mark with a running Ligerbomb into the barbs! The horror, the horror! Mark is DOWN as he slumps to the outside. Carnage continues. After a good while the mind gathers itself enough to wonder where Mark disappeared from the floor. Almost at that exact moment Kung-fu Briscoe is climbing the outer wall of the cage as the rest of the remaining fighters brawl inside the ring…"Please don't die! Please don't die!"…huge Senton from the top of the cage by Mark onto everyone inside! Crimson masks fall down all around. The Age clears the cage of the Briscoes. A brutal Cobra Clutch suplex from Delirious on Austin and Jimmy leaps in to choke Aries out with the End Time. Three AOTFallers versus the Briscoes left. Jimmy pulls out the unholy emo spike and hands it to Delirious! Daizee runs in to try and talk Delirious out of the dark side…but gets the spike herself!?! Why, Delirious, why? Oh, the humanity. The Briscoes soon lay down the punishment for this vile act by eliminating the Insane One with a Doomsday Device.

The two tag teams are left. Jimmy and Tyler swing huge chair shots at the brothers' skulls…NO SELL CITY, BABY! The Briscoes run through their opponents and pick them up. Stereo Jay Driller/Cut-Throat Suplex-combo on Black and Jacobs! Th-thie-th-thie-th-that's all folks, lights out! The Briscoes, bloody and bruised, take the match home. A great brawl with some crazy spots sprinkled in. Didn't reach the level of the World Title-match, but good stuff. Aftermath saw Jimmy and Tyler exchange some disgruntled words – understandable after a pretty disastrous weekend for the Age of the Fall. Before leaving the arena I also managed to grab myself an excellent souvenir: a good chunk of the table Jay Briscoe fell through mid-match. Mission to come: get as many roster members as possible to sign the piece within the next eight months.

 

DING

 

Erinomaisen shown päätyttyä suuntasin kahden takaisin pohjoiseen Nykin kautta suuntavan fanin kanssa taksilla paikalliselle linja-autoasemalle, josta sopivasti illan viimeinen, 2 am lähtevä bussi odotti. Paikalle saavuttiinkin hyvissä ajoin ja asemalla odotti myös yksi tuttava, viime kesäkuussa Coventryssä myöskin painitapahtumassa tapaamani Montreal Steve, joka oli myös Arenalla seuraamassa showta. Pieni on maailma näidenkin fanien keskuudessa. Hänellä kunnon matka vasta olikin, Philadelphiasta Montrealiin pohjoisen rajan taa. Joukolla oli silti ihan mukava odotella bussia, vaikka se olikin reippaan tunnin myöhässä. Toisaalta myöhästyminen lyhensi pidentynyttä odottamistamme. Niin, pidentynyttä.

 

Tässä käytännöllinen vinkki Ameriikassa matkaaville: kansallinen bussifirma Greyhound on siitä ikävä yritys, että koska se myy avoimia lippuja käytettäväksi mille vuorolle vain lystää, niin se myy enemmän lippuja kuin busseissa on joskus paikkoja. Ikävimmäksi tämän teki se, että kun odottamamme bussi viimein saapui asemalle, edellisistä busseista ulos jääneet odottelijat sekä muilta yhteyksiltä itsensä siirtäneet täyttivät tämän 2 am bussin milteipä täysin. Täytti siis ainakin siihen pisteeseen, että me painifanit jäimme sitten odottelemaan aamuseitsemän bussia. Hieman pidempään saimme siis hengata Etelä-Philadelphian bussiasemalla, jossa zombioituneesta mielentilasta huolimatta saimme joukolla pidettyä toisemme hereillä aina bussiin tuloon asti. Hereillä pysymistä tosin helpotti asemalla tavatut erittäin mielenkiintoiset persoonat, joita muun muassa olivat 1) jollain kummalla tavalla omissa maailmoissaan leijunut nuori nainen, jonka sympatia-kohtaus paheni vain hetki hetkeltä kun bussimme myöhästyi ensin myöhästymistään ja lopulta jätti meidät odottelemaan seuraavaa, sekä 2) nuori cowboy, jolla oli laukussaan vaatteiden lisäksi massiivinen akkuporakone. Ihan kiinnostavaa juttuseuraa, lontoolaisittain paras sana heistä olisi varmasti "peculiar". Aseman viereinen fried chicken-paikkakaan ei ollut kummoinen, mutta puoli neljältä aamuyöllä maittoivat senkin antimet huikean hyvin. Zombifioituina pääsimme lopulta bussiin sekä Nykissä tarpeeksi osuviin jatkoyhteyksiimme, koska tietysti myöhästyimme niistä joihin alun perin kunkin olisi pitänyt osua. Väsyneenä, mutta erittäin onnellisena saavuin sunnuntai-iltapäivästä Hampshire Collegelle, miettien jo, että milloinkas sitä taas pääsee tien päälle. Alle kuukaudessahan sitä pääsi, mutta siitä lisää piakkoin näillä samoilla sivuilla. Boston-Philly-fotoja, aivan kuten oravainen alhaalla toteaa, naamakirjan puolella!