We're back and I've somehow managed to release an entry in this blog on schedule for four consecutive weeks. With that being said, this may be the week that this whole concept jumps the shark as the match in question is one that I'm not sure was worth documenting in the first place - but maybe I'm not the best judge of that in the first place. Regardless, we flash back to February 2015 and 3-2-1 Battle is continuing to gain steam, running monthly shows at Evolv Fitness in the South Lake Union neighbourhood of Seattle and 4 non-descript guys from Greater Vancouver are back for a rematch of their debut for the promotion that you likely read about a few weeks ago here. The Rain City Coalition/Fur & Loathing feud continued on as our first tag match with one another in "The Battle Palace" itself went down almost exactly one year after our previous match a few blocks away in Capital Hill did.
Over the years, we were incredibly lucky to have some seriously talented photographers present to capture the action at 3-2-1, and I'll be using a lot of those amazing photos to enhance these blogs wherever possible. Scott Foster, Samuel Grahn, Erick Von Flickr, West Smith, Ariel Foreman, Eric Horvitz, Jamie Rand, Franny Crocket and probably some others that I'm forgetting; NONE of whom were present for this show as literally the only photo that I could find after combing the depths of the internet (ie mostly Facebook) was a poorly taken one of Scott & Kaden backstage preparing to make their Katy Perry inspired entrance to her hit, having recently performed it at the Super Bowl, "Roar." Alas, I've done the best that I can to provide some visual aids for this blog entry in the form of some screen captures from the video/match itself, which will have to do.
Speaking of entrances - If you recall, the aforementioned match from the previous year featured Drew and myself entering (much to my dismay) to Phil Collins hit "Sussudio." This time around was the debut of "Teenage Kicks" by The Undertones as our collective entrance music; which I ended up adopting as my solo theme going forward for the next 2.5+ years and would aid in getting me over as an established singles babyface to the diehard 3-2-1 Battle fanbase. It would not be long before the opening drum beat would alert the entire crowd to get up on their feet and rhythmically clap along to my entrance; singing along as I would lead them through the classic refrain of "I wanna hold her, wanna hold her tight; Get Teenage Kicks, right through the night" in preparation for or perhaps declaration of battle on a bi-monthly basis; but we're not quite there yet. This was also the debut of us wearing our matching knock off Pink CM Punk inspired tights that the entire group of us had purchased a few years priors (thanks eLucha!) to wear as collective outfit including our pals Justin & Mitch, on a backyard wrestling show in upstate New York. I would end up wearing this gear with some regularity for the next year or so and the fact that we collectively owned *so many* pairs of these tights would play a role in another match later this year.
This match was ambitious to say the least and has some very high highs and a whole lot of very low lows. First and foremost, it desperately needs an editor - going over 24 minutes where it easily could have been executed in closer to 14-16 minutes. I'm not sure when being so mindful of run times became a thing for me but in my later years, I absolutely took pride on rarely going over time and usually being quite precise with how I timed my matches. To be fair, at this current juncture in 3-2-1, there were no agents or anyone backstage giving us runtimes or much in the way of guidance; although I doubt we would have listened in the moment to begin with. In fact, it really wasn't until the shows started streaming live on Twitch in December 2017 that they started on time and run in a more cohesive manner, with sticking to your allotted time becoming a necessity to prohibit shows from running entirely too long and burning out the crowds. Keep in mind that these shows all started at 9:00pm, had an intermission and would regularly finish close to Midnight if not later.
As far as the match itself goes - it commences in a somewhat awkward fashion, a bi-product of the signature "3! 2! 1! Battle!" method of signifying the match had begun as Scott & Kaden cut a pseudo promo after the match had technically already started, attempting to get some cheap heel heat by rubbing it in the face of the Seattle faithful that their beloved Seahawks had just lost Super Bowl XLIX the weekend prior. Eventually, Drew & Kaden got down to business with things starting off in a relatively pedestrian manner between the two, who had been left to their own devices to craft this introductory stanza. However, they decided the best form of punctuation to cap off a series of quick reversals and roll ups would be a Cradle Piledriver out of nowhere, a mere 90 seconds into the match. I had completely forgotten about this but having re-watched the match in order to write about it here, I was instantly transported back in time 10+ years to being on the apron watching what was transpiring before my very eyes in the ring, completely dumbfounded at their choice of narrative (or lack there of).
Our ensuing shine is pretty hit or miss - There's a good dive spot with us faking out the furries with my previously hit (last month) Golden Triangle Moonsault leading to Drew hitting a big crossbody off the opposite top rope, followed up by Tope Con Hilo of my own. We take control on Kaden for perhaps a touch too long, climaxing with me awkwardly slipping as I stepped off of Drew's back, blowing a Senton in the process at the culmination of the "Canadian Railroad Trilogy"; our version of a Motor City Machine Gun esque dream sequence. It's when we attempt to hit Scott with the "Sundown", the combination Superkick/Armtrap German Suplex that things really start to pickup and the meat of the match unfolds. The psychology centers around myself being neutralized on the floor by Scott and the ensuing heat on Drew (who's not the legal man for the record) having to fight off both members of Fur & Loathing long enough for me to make a recovery and an eventual hot tag. I'm sure we were probably referencing the very famous AJPW Real World Tag League finals in 1996 with the infamous Akira Taue chokeslamming Jun Akiyama off the apron to the floor spot being replaced by me taking a Fireman's Carry Emerald Frosion (aka the "Kablammo 2K6") on to an open chair on the floor - which looked and sounded absolutely brutal. While we referenced that match in a macro sense and it's debatable we were even successful on that level, we most definitely missed the mark when it came to any semblance of micro nuance.
The heat on Drew is pretty by the numbers for a Fur & Loathing tag match, granted I've probably seen more of those than just about anyone else ever did. They hit a couple of their typical double team with the lone Sarian hope spot coming in the form of a desperation clothesline and attempted tag with me still laid out & selling on the floor. After a couple of false comebacks including a great sequence of strikes on Drew's behalf and an awkwardly mistimed sequence with the heel Furries accidentally striking one another (aka the 15%), Drew's finally able to crawl through both sets of clawed legs, circumventing the scattered plastic balls strewn about the canvas and make the hot tag. I supposed I forgot to mention it earlier but the bane of all of our collective existence (the balls) are still a thing being thrown in our direction with some regularity at this point. In maybe the only time I can recall this ever happening to any of us, one of the 3-2-1 regulars (perhaps dating back to the non-ring shows at the "Rebar" just down the road) took it upon themselves to throw a crushed up beer can at Fur & Loathing as they goaded on the fans during their control segment; leading to play by play announcer Cody Von Whistler to remind everyone in the crowd...
"Throw A Can, You get Thrown Out... That's What the Balls Are For, Idiot!"
The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald; not just a song about a boat that crashed.
Things continue to break down as there's another awkward sequence with Scott inadvertently slingshotting me into a sunset flip on Kaden followed by a diving jacknife pin by Drew, inspired by T2P masked team The Shachihoko Machines, that ends up in the ropes nonetheless. The furries hit a simultaneous Oklahoma Stampede & Tiger Driver for nearfalls and Scott drills both Drew & I with some really great lariat including one that I took a big inside out bump on that I pretty much did in every match we had with one another from that point onwards - including for the finish of our final match with one another this past June. The end finally comes with me eating a Talbain Brainbuster that he attempted to deadlift me up from my knees with, which ended up throwing the entire trajectory/balance of the move off altogether. At this point Scott (who was seated on the top rope), attempted to hold Drew back from breaking up the pinfall by jumping off and meeting him in the middle of the ring as he was sliding back in from the outside. I don't know if the timing of this could have gone any worse as the sound of Scott crashing to the mat coincided with the referee's 3 count at the *exact* same moment leaving the once enthusiastic crowd more than confused at what they had just seen. It's a disappointing conclusion to a once idealistic match, a biproduct of us trying to outdo the previous year's encounter that had been received so well with style over substance, crashing and burning in the process.
And that's it. I know, a bit of a downer of a conclusion but alas there were no other bookings that weekend nor fun anecdotes of us travelling elsewhere, building strong core memories of our friendship that I still have to this day. We likely drove home later that evening, stopping at Taco Bell or Seattle's own Dick's Drive-In for dinner, arriving back in Vancouver in the twilight hours of the early morning. The feud between these two teams would continue with further singles matches and one big final tag match (with a stipulation) in the next few months - both of which thankfully are amongst the best matches I had in that era of 3-2-1 Battle and were rightfully documented in a much more fitting manner than this one was.
Watch:
Daniel Makabe/Drew Sarian vs Scott Henson/Kaden Talbain [2/11/15]
**The only picture I could find taken that evening - Kaden preparing to ride Scott out through the curtain as the Battle Palace comes alive to Katy Perry's "Roar."
