The Complete and Accurate Daniel Makabe in 3-2-1 Battle! (Part 18) - Daniel Makabe vs Allan Jepsen [2/12/16]

 

I'm going to do the best that I can to not write a novella about this week's match but I hope I can be forgiven if that turns out to be the case as it's the first appearance of someone whom I already had a decade+ worth of history with by this point and someone whom would continue to be a fixture in the 3-2-1 Battle! locker room (and my life in general) for its' entire duration. That of course being the man whom I first met in a backyard in Surrey, BC in the fall of 2004 when he was using the unfortunate nickname "Greasy" likely because it rhymes with his shoot last name (which I won't disclose) but by 2016 had taken on the persona of "Uncle Muscles" and the last name of a Canadian pop sensation; Allan Jepsen. While this was his first match in a 3-2-1 ring and his first dabbling in a professional wrestling setting in a good 5+ years, he's someone that I not only wrestled countless times during his initial run as a member of the VCW roster (our backyard promotion) between 2004-2008 but also played on a softball team with for close to a decade in the interim. Additionally, we had been on countless journeys with one another be it to attend MLB baseball stadiums and independent wrestling shows all over North America including a particularly noteworthy 44 hour round trip drive in a mini-van to Reseda, CA to attend PWG's 2nd annual "Battle of Los Angeles" tournament in the fall of 2006.

The VCW Crew (including Al and myself) spent 44 hours collectively in a mini-van driving to and from Southern California and only 36 hours total in Reseda itself to attend our first PWG show which is still one of my greatest wrestling memories ever. Here we are pictured with Quicksilver and El Generico; whom wouldn't go on to do much of note in the subsequent 2 decades.

Having teamed with one another in our former lives' as members of 'Van-City Championship Wrestling' in a stable initially known as The Fabulous Newton Boys with fellow Surrey, BC resident Tony Baroni (then known as 'Ruckus') in a nod to the Newton neighbourhood of the much larger municipality where we all grew up. That team would subsequently transform into Newton Boys Deluxe, a homage to the legendary 90s' Michinoku Pro Wrestling heel stable Kaientai Deluxe which would last for multiple years through various iterations of that promotion; in a variety of rented rings/facilities all throughout multiple Greater Vancouver suburbs. In 2008 he decided to get trained himself by local indie promotion ECCW where he would soon debut under the masked persona of Manther, heavily inspired by a legendary luchador who has experienced a career renaissance in the last few years: Blue Panther.

Literally the only photo I could find online to physically prove the existence of Al's former alter ego; initially going by the name "Pink Panther", he would settle on a moniker that still is held in cult status amongst certain members of the PNW independent wrestling community. Half Man, Half Panther, 100% Manther.

As previously mentioned it had been a few years since Al had wrestled on a pro show, having stepped away from the ring in the late 00s to focus on other aspects of his life, most notably his love of baseball as well as a relationship with someone who outright detested pro wrestling; which I can confirm is something that happens to a large amount of us as we become actual adults and engage in romantic relationships with people not in the industry. In the year prior to this match he had definitely caught the bug again, having participated in a handful of bouts during the final iteration of "VCW vs. The World", an annual backyard get together that by that point was being held in the gymnasium of a local Catholic Elementary School as was previously discussed in an entry last year where we in fact squared off on the opposite sides of a 6 man tag team match that headlined the first night. Piecing together enough of an attire that included a 3-2-1 Battle! t-shirt, a pair of Red/Black tiger striped biker shorts (that I believe belonged to the UKBYW legend himself Yakuza J) and matching kickpads purchased from Highspots (that I believe belonged to me), Al made his first appearance in the Battle Palace with a somewhat non-descript look in front of a crowd whom likely had no clue as to who he was or of our multi faceted history with one another.

This is where something like the 3-2-1's signature live commentary over the house mics was actually beneficial and could do some heavy lifting in introducing new characters and providing backstory to the fans in a manner that you can't always do effectively just through in-ring work itself. Cody Von Whistler and Murray Grande did a fine job of establishing from the get-go that we were former tag team partners and this was my first real challenge as the current defending Pacific Middleweight champion against someone with a deeper knowledge of my inner workings. We do our part of setting the table as well, wasting no time of getting right into the action with what appears to be respectful handshake between two former allies devolving immediately as Al fell backwards into a very sneaky low-blow that made it very clear that he was not looking to have an athletic contest based on our history or mutual respect; he was looking to start off his career in the Battle Palace with a big title victory. 

Things get off to a very hot pace with a him backing me into the corner with punches all the while still selling the effects of hitting me below the belt, only for a quick series of reversals allowing me to take charge with my advantage in speed and agility proving effective. His face met the sole of my upwardly raised Asics wrestling shoe with the momentum carrying me to the apron where I swiftly scaled to the top turnbuckle and came crashing down with a Senton directly onto his back as he stood prone and hunched over. The impact of which sent him cascading through the ropes to the floor where I met him shortly thereafter by leaping over the top rope with a Tope Suicida in the same manner of another legendary luchador Psicosis; or what is more commonly referred to in certain circles as "the Taker Dive." This would be the first and last time I would ever execute this specific form of that dive which isn't to say it didn't go according to plan on this evening, but more so that it continues to be one of the scarier variations of the move that I've seen far too many people get hurt on by catching their feet on the top rope as they careen over them and potentially face first down to the unforgiving floor outside.

Back in I take control with an honest to god babyface shine sequence, one that's rooted in technical wrestling no less for what feels like the first time in forever in a 3-2-1 ring. Starting things off with a variation of a Nudo Lagunera hold, capped off a cheeky "The Thinker" pose; otherwise known as 'La Nieblina' or the 'Paradise Lock" for all you Mr Niebla and Milano Collection AT truthers out there. The previously discussed influence of legendary UK technician Johnny Saint continues to shine through in my work as my focus on working over "Uncle Muscle's" arm takes shape in the form of him repeatedly snapmaring me, with each successive attempt at a rear chin lock being easily reversed as I continue to put pressure on his uncomfortably manipulated arm over and over again. Finally having enough of it being twisted and bent thoroughly, he does his best to reach out for the closest top rope that he can for some reprieve which sets in motion the next portion of the match.

Having found temporary solace within the familiar grasp of rope wrapped in electrical tape, I in turn utilize them to momentarily neutralize him with a hard chop before an attempt at an irish whip is reversed and I'm sent crashing to the canvas with a hard Spinebuster; allowing Al to finally take control for an extended period of time. This is a very basic story telling device that I would always try to implement in my matches; using our surroundings within the ring to bring one chapter of the story to its logical conclusion, i.e. my technical dominance in the center of the ring, whilst introducing the next chapter in the process i.e. Al's strength and ability to dominate using separation and a series of high impact maneuvers. 

What follows is vintage Allan Jepsen offense, which he executes very well for someone whom hasn't had a proper match in front of a paying audience in close to a decade. It certainly helps that he's someone I worked with so often that I became very adapt at bumping and selling for all of his spots so well. Beginning with a seated fist drop, a patented Curt Hennig flipping neck snap, and a classic back body drop which is a bump that I always loved to take as a babyface that is of course until my back, which I already had a history of injuries with subconsciously decided I would be better off by bumping on my hip instead in a classic Ric Flair manner. While I do appreciate that there's a logic to Al's continuous use of distance created via multiple irish whips (and I do think we could have done a better job of telling that story with me attempting to negate that with struggle in the interim), one flaw in his control segment is that it feels very repetitive and lacking in good transitions to aid in the rising action of it all. Nonetheless it is punctuated by a very cleanly executed Fall Away Slam to DDT (otherwise known as the 'B.I.G.') that's immediately transitioned to a Camel Clutch; a series of moves that I had been on the receiving end of from him for well over 10 years.

"Is Uncle Muscles related to Mr. Fitness?"

"Only through marriage..."

Al's control comes to an end via a classic struggle over an Abdominal Stretch which is worked incredibly well with him utilizing the top rope for added leverage. A borderline stereotypical sequence albeit an effective one nonetheless that is framed incredibly well by the camera work here allowing the viewer to see all of the components at once; the referee with a clear view of the anguish on my face which only intensifies as Al's right hand reaches behind him to grasp ahold of the firm yet malleable rope. Eventually all good things must come to an end (good for him; not for me) as the referee discovers his casual bending of the rules and brings it to its logical conclusion by breaking his grasp of the rope with a well timed boot, allowing me to break free of the hold with a hip toss that sends Al to the far corner where I followed in with my now signature charging hard drop kick to the face.

I follow this up by going back to what has so far been effective for me, hitting a very cool looking (albeit too close to the ropes) armdrag out of a top wrist lock and following up with a series of stomps to that extremity as it's placed in multiple uncomfortable looking positions; to the base of his elbow and an exposed shoulder. For a sequence that I used so frequently in this era (so much so that I've run out of creative ways to describe these moments as of late), this one really lacked any real sense of urgency or impact; although it did still receive a good reaction from the fans whom by this point had likely come to expect these nasty stomps within my matches. The Jim Breaks arm breaker followed suit with Al having done enough homework to know it was in his best interest to get to the ropes to break hold as quickly as possible. This is another such instance of the ropes being utilized to frame the flow of the action as it brought my resurgence of dominance of him and his arm, as brief as it may have been to an end and changed the setting of the final third of this match altogether as we found ourselves fighting on the apron like two characters in a 16-bit fighting game, straight out of the proverbial video arcades of our mutual early 90s childhoods.

What's certainly become an independent wrestling trope of the last decade ensues here as a classic struggle on the apron between the two of us breaks out. A teased German Suplex that is quickly dispatched by Allan creating separation (there's that word again) with his apparently superior posterior, as my attempt to close the distance once more is countered by a massive Back Body Drop (there's those words again) which sends me crashing down onto the apron with the momentum sending my dazed heap of a body into the first row of fans' laps. The visually impressive moment is met by an uproarious "Holy Fuck" chant, with Al grasping at me to bring the action back inside the ring and take advantage of my stunned status leading to a brawl breaking out and our attempt at a bit of a comedic sequence where we both barely make it back inside before referee Chris Boushee can count us out; which of course didn't really get any laughs or register with the crowd at large as well as we likely would have hoped for. 

While I'm still showing some sense of struggle and doing my best to fight Al off, I do like that we had him maintain control of the match following the brutal looking back body drop and not fall into the trap that so many independent wrestling final thirds do of becoming too back and forth-y. Al continues his dominance first with a series of multiple clotheslines and one hard crossbody to my chest and stomach while I was prone in the corner of the ring, followed up with a disgusting looking Powerbomb onto the Knee. This was another signature of his that my inner masochist would always try to find a way to work into all of our matches because of how great of a reaction it always got, plus I always got a kick out of what he called it during his aforementioned days as Manther; the 'Apocalypse Meow.' Despite my best efforts to twist my way out of his grasps, taking hold of and neutralizing an outstretched arm with the hopes of securing a Fujiwara Armbar, he was able to reign me back in and hit the move with an expertly time last second kickout leading to a gigantic reaction.

Whatever hopes he had of following up are quickly diminished by a well timed albeit blatantly stolen from ZSJ. Enzigiri to his arm followed up by a massive Package Piledriver, another move that was a nod to our former backyard history where I regularly used it to finish off my foes; referring to it by the Drew Cordeiro (of Beyond Wrestling fame) coined name "Trapper Keeper Bomb" with another very large pop for the kickout from the somewhat delayed cover. I really got a kick out of how well I took my time selling the impact on my spine of not only Al's previous attempts to imbed his knee into it but also my own landing straight onto my behind while driving the top of his head into the canvas. All of this felt really well executed and beyond what I was capable of on a regular basis at this point in my career.

A follow up attempt of my patented Straightjacket hold German Suplex is quickly thwarted with a bit of a lazy and nonsensical low blow with Allan thrusting his free leg backwards between both of mine in moment of desperation. While there's certainly a logic there of him making one final gasp of freeing himself from what would likely be his certain undoing, it was the second low blow of the match and took place directly in front of the referee's field of vision; I wish we would have come up with something a little more original. Speaking of lack of originality however; a second Powerbomb attempt by Allan followed with me twisting in mid air and floating over behind him in a seemless manner into what at this point was my secondary submission finish; the Cattle Mutilation or the "Makabe Lock." Unable to secure the submission victory once more, I twisted backwards from the bridging position and with Al's outstretched arm across my lap, I drove my bodyweight across his body ending up with him on his shoulders in a Seatbelt Pin for the requisite 3 count victory. This is a pinning combination that I liberally took from the GOAT himself and would use a lot over the years, but this was the first time I ever won a match with it in a 3-2-1 Battle ring.

This was the first of three singles matches that Allan and I would have in the promotion over the course of the next 3 years, not to mention countless other interactions we would have as both friends (forming a team with one another later on in 2016) as well as foes. For someone whom hadn't had a proper singles match in front of an audience in quite some years he did a good job mechanically, executing all of his moves really well as well as bumping and selling for mine too. His charisma and character were something that definitely needed to be awaken within him which would happen over the course of the next year or so as he became a more regular member of the roster integrating himself really well. He's someone whom I have always had really good chemistry with both in and out of the ring and is the only person I'll write about in this blog whom I was ever roommates with or was the best man at my wedding. This is an early example of a pretty trustworthy formula that I would come to utilize with a variety of less technically adapt opponents where we could tell a good story, highlighting our differences in approach and showcasing both of us in a successfully entertaining manner. I'm interested to see how it will holdup with our futures matches that I will write about down the road but at this point, it's firmly planted in my top 10 matches in the promotion for the time being and was a match I really enjoyed revisiting.

The very next evening in nearby Bellingham, WA (about 20 miles south of the US/Canada border) I took part in an annual series of Valentines Day Cover shows put on by an amazing all ages art space called Make.Shift; which I had previously attended on multiple occasions myself. Having seen the previous years' incarnation where a local solo musician did a series of Death Cab for Cutie songs acoustically, I saw the call for submissions go out a few months prior and decided it was worth taking a chance on myself and similarly offering my services. Having learned a great deal of the songs contained within his legendary "Life's A Riot With Spy vs Spy" LP, I volunteered to contribute to the weekend's events by playing a set of Billy Bragg covers.

Before you ask; Yes, I am in fact a total weirdo whom played a set of 30 year old political songs in front of a room of mostly apathetic college students from nearby Western Washington University whilst barefoot. Hats off to whomever took this series of great Black & White photos though; You truly captured me in my essence. 

While it was not my best performance and I nearly had a mental breakdown in the moments following the completion of a set of songs that included multiple flubs and general disinterest from the packed basement of onlookers; I was still very appreciative of the countless friends that I had whom made the trek to support me from both Seattle and Vancouver including my own Mother whom I had converted to a fan of the British troubadour's' material years prior. In fact with some hindsight, I believe this may have been the last opportunity she had to see me perform live altogether as previous attempts at seeing various bands I was in over the year were deemed "too loud" by her and she never saw me wrestle live once over the course of my career. It was also the last time I ever performed musically as a solo artist, something that I've been hoping to rectify for many many years at this point and may or may not be in the process of doing so in the near future.

Watch:
Daniel Makabe vs Allan Jepsen [2/12/16]

The Complete and Accurate Daniel Makabe in 3-2-1 Battle! (Part 17) - Daniel Makabe vs James Diesel vs Cole Crazy [1/23/16]

In wrestling there are times where a match tells a story with a lot of depth and symbolism that can make you really think or appreciate the level of craft that goes into it. And then there are times where you and two of your old buddies from your former life (lives) as a backyard wrestler go out there and have a real "dudes rule" kind of 3 way match to kick off a show in front of a hot crowd who are game for that sort of thing; and this week's match is 100% the latter of these. My second title defense of the still recently (enough) acquired 3-2-1 Battle! Pacific Middleweight championship was the opening contest of 3-2-1's "The Four Way" show on Saturday, January 23rd against to this point, my two most consistent, non-Canadian opponents in Cole Crazy and James Diesel; someone I'd already wrestled in a 3 Way match a few months months prior.

One detail that probably didn't catch your eye in that previous paragraph was the fact that this was the first time that 3-2-1 had run a show on a Saturday, as opposed to the usual Friday night timeslots; or the one time they decided to run on a random Wednesday which thankfully never became a regular thing. This was of course because a "rival" promotion had decided to run their own wrestling/variety show in Seattle at the not so far away El Corazon, a well establish dive-y concert venue (formerly known as The Graceland) that I've seen countless shows at over the years; including legendary NYHC band Gorilla Biscuits just a few weeks ago as of when I'm writing this in the spring of 2026. Run by a stalwart of the local PNW wrestling community Ethan HD, whom I was lucky enough to get to wrestle multiple time years later, but never in 3-2-1 so I don't know how often his name will come up, "Project 43" was a series of shows that from all accounts were a lot of fun using a bevy of local Washington/Oregon based wrestlers whom likely would not have been caught dead at a 3-2-1 show during this particular tenure of the promotion. In hindsight it's all very silly but in the moment, the power's that be in charge of the "Battle Palace" (and by that, I mostly mean one guy) felt threatened by this and decided the best course of action was to stray from our typical Friday evening slot and run head to head on this particular evening. There's likely a joke along the lines of a current meme about "some men becoming indie wrestling promoters instead of going to therapy" that could be made here, but let's move on.

Back to the match at hand though; a classic no nonsense (or all nonsense if you really think about it) battle between three pals with no history of any real significance to build upon or any direction coming out of it. I do not recognize whom was handling the ring announcing duties on this particular evening but his delivery and cadence were certainly lacking, really making you appreciate how good we had it with someone as consistent in tone as 3-2-1's resident announcer Led Lawless. The referee that evening however was someone who was around until the bitter end of the promotion, looking after plenty of my biggest and best matches in that timespan as well as training the vast majority of all future regular referees that would come out of the school; that being Chris Samuels.

Things get started quickly with a fun blend of comedy and chain wrestling, as a series of vignettes unfold centered around Cole taking issue with both James and I, finding himself on the receiving end of a series of Superkicks; first from James, second from myself and finally a pair of them from both of us. I honestly do not remember ever throwing superkick at any other point during my wrestling career and both of the ones I hit here look pretty darn good if I do say so myself; maybe I have a career renaissance ahead of me as a Young Bucks tribute act... or maybe not. With Cole out the way, I do my best to take charge with a series of strikes and a nice sequence off the ropes on James, coming out on the short end of things however as he hits his signature calf kick that I awkwardly bump on, rolling over him in the process and straight out onto the floor.

The triangular nature of these matches continues with all 3 of us taking charge at points, even within the same sequences; case in point James' attempt at diving out onto Cole is cut off by a hard forearm, which is answered in form by a hard forearm of my own to Mr. Crazy; allowing me enough time to place him seated in a folding chair in the front row to hit a familiar signature high risk maneuver of mine for the fist time in months. However, as I'm heading down the apron towards him my trailing foot is held onto by James which I mitigate by utilizing leverage created from holding onto the top rope and literally dragging him under the bottom rope to the floor in a heap with my foot. I can honestly say I've never seen anyone recreate this sort of scenario before or since then. With both opponents now stunned enough for me to seat them next to one another in adjacent folding chairs, I'm able to successfully hit the diving dropkick onto them; something that I first hit close to a year prior in what is still likely at this point my best match in the promotion; the Seattle Streetfight Tag Match from "Battlemania 2015."

Capitalizing on that devastating maneuver and the ensuing roar of the crowd chanting "Holy Shit" that followed it, I take control of Cole back inside the ring. In what feels like what I've come to describe as "Proto-Wrestling Genius," I execute a very cool looking and novel suplex using nothing more than a knuckle lock and a firm grip on his left triceps, floating over immediately afterwards and neutralizing his aforementioned arm using a leg scissors. It's short lived however as Cole uses his own free legs to kick me multiple times in the back, sending me crashing face first to the mat where he floats over himself and locks on a half boston crab which I have no other choice but to get to the ropes in order to break. Honestly, I could watch an entire match of this sort of work between the two of us and while I think there's a more interesting framework to be explored in this moment, it is clearly not the direction of this match and merely there to continue the rising action while James is off selling on the floor. Nonetheless after breaking free of his hold and selling into a nearby corner I'm hit by a huge strike combination of his in the form of an impactful running European Uppercut and snugly hit jumping Enzigiri kick; sending me crashing out to the floor myself.

As things have progressed we're clearly utilizing the tried and true format when formulating a 3 way match, keep one man on the outside while the other two work; occasionally interjecting for some type of larger sequence or moment involving all three participants. As I find myself stunned on the floor, James returns to the ring and attempts to hit one of his patented moves, the TKO; or Hawaiian Smasher for any potential Maunakea Mossman marks who are possibly reading this. Cole valiantly tries to take control again with a series of hard chops but finds himself stunned once more by a single legged (shinned?) Codebreaker by James. What ensues is one of the more absurd moments I've likely written about in this blog up until this point with Diesel and I exchanging a series of rear waist lock reversals with me finally taking control by essentially performing the Heimlich Maneuver on him with his corresponding exhalation of all the oxygen in his lungs coming in contact with the still dazed Cole; sending him flying into the corner with a big "John Woo" esque bump in a moment that feels like it has more shared DNA with a Looney Tunes cartoon than a Judo Suwa vs Dragon Kid match.

After allowing the moment to register with the somewhat dumbfounded audience, I send Diesel careening to the canvas with a release German Suplex that on video sure seemed like I was doing more of the work on than he was; ie "he went up kinda heavy, brother." Having shown how adapt I am at both wrestling and first aid, I attempt to add home decor to that list by setting up an honest to god proper folding table that had been previously hidden underneath the ring, perpendicular to the ring apron in front of the very receptive crowd. I could not tell you how or why we had access to a table for this somewhat random, one off match but we set out to take advantage of it and create a moment that no one would forget. Laying out James on the table but being completely oblivious to the fact that Cole had used this moment to climb up onto a large beam that normally was used to suspend a boxing heavy bag from (in Evolv Fitness' day to day operation as a martial arts gym); a struggle ensues between James and I leading to Crazy diving off with a well timed Somersault Senton onto both of us, sending us crashing through the table to the sounds of another gigantic pop and ensuing "Holy Shit" chant.  

"TABLE! TABLE! TABLE!"
"And 3-2-1 Battalion, what is that Table made of?!"
"SOLID STEEL!!"
"It's actually made out of Wood guys... Wood."

Back inside the ring with Cole clearly out ahead and looking to pin one of us, he chooses to neutralize James with me recovering quickly enough to break it up. A kind of awkward and stereotypical "both guys attempt a series of pins, while continually pulling one another off to prevent it" sequence ensues, fleshed out with some added strike exchanges between the two of us between each stab at a pinfall. With Cole and I's attention turned towards one another, Diesel is able to recover enough and finally hit his previously attempted TKO; with the ensuing pinfall attempted nonchalantly broken up by myself by dragging him off and straight into the now well established Jim Breaks Armbreaker submission finish. A kind of neat little back and forth struggle unfolds between that hold and James shoulder rolling out into his own modified Texas Cloverleaf, with the only other person I've ever seen utilize the same variant being the Battlarts legend himself, Alexander Otsuka; I have to imagine this is the first and only time those two wrestlers have or ever will be compared to one another.

As the old adage goes, the only things in life that are guaranteed are death, taxes and Cole Crazy breaking up a move of mine in a multi-person match by hitting a top rope 450 onto me out of nowhere. Call it tropey or not, sometimes the hits never go out of style for a reason and the crowd goes absolutely crazy for the well timed moment, even with it not being the cleanest version of this spot we would hit together. At this point James and I feed off to opposite corners in order for Cole to "Go Crazy" ("don't mind if I do"), with his patented series of running European Uppercuts. I'm up and ready on the far side while James appears to be a mess, struggling to sit up and clinging to the bottom turnbuckle pad for life. Finally able to reverse my fortunes, I avoid a charging Cole by leap frogging out of the corner and over him; colloquially known in most indie wrestling locker rooms as "the TJP," although I try to credit Masato Yoshino whenever I can as the first person I ever saw execute it.

I use this opening to set both him and a now worse for wear James up onto the same opposing turnbuckles, hitting a Superplex on Cole before my second attempt on James is cut off by a move made famous (albeit a very long time ago) by Phil Brooks himself, the top rope pedigree otherwise known as the "Pepsi Plunge" which I believe James would jokingly refer to his bootleg version of as the "Safeway Select," a nod to anyone who grew up working class, drinking store brand sodas like the 3 of us in this match likely did. Following this however, James disappears from the ring and is no longer seen in this match; something I reached out to fellow participant Cole Crazy whom helped jog my memory as to what exactly went down in this moment...

"(James) was having stomach issues before the match started so he took an Imodium tablet. At that last corner spot he told me that he was going to puke, so I relayed the message to you in the opposite corner. Your verbatim reply to him was 'I don't care how you're feeling (James), you're hitting the fucking spot and then you can leave'; LOL."

I'm not sure he'll ever see this but with a decade of hindsight behind me, I can sincerely say I'm sorry James; although to be fair, this looked pretty rad and got another gigantic pop. With Diesel no longer a factor we're left with Cole and I to battle it out in one of the more baffling closing stretches I've encountered in this rewatch project so far with no real semblance of selling or logic to be found. Case in point, immediately after being driven face first into the canvas from the top rope I'm able to reverse Cole with very little effort and hit one of our classic sequences that we would almost always throw in because of how well rehearsed and executed it was. A hard forearm in the corner, followed up with a release German Suplex and a John Woo style "Shotgun Dropkick" with an absolutely gross landing to cap it all off. This style of dropkick was something that I had done years prior during my backyard days and really wasn't using much at all in this era, preferring the more Bryan Danielson coded corner dropkick instead but without fail (and for years to come after this, for that matter), Cole would always ask me to include it whenever we shared a ring with one another because of how particularly brutal it would look. Now, if you're just joining me now, let me reiterate to you the following take aways from this week's blog entry:

-"Dudes Rule"
-"The hits never go out of style."

Trying to capitalize on that quick turn of events, I attempt to finish off Cole with my sometimes utilized Armtrap German Suplex; which to be fair was the finish of our most recent singles encounter from the previous summer and I guess should count as some form of psychology/built upon moment(s) within the match itself. Alas, it's not successful with Cole hitting a go behind into his own gross looking release Half Nelson Suplex landing me directly on my head. The only fitting response for a match of this nature at this current stage in my development as a pro wrestler is a half assed fire up and no-sell of something that could have been used so much more effectively. A series of hard back and forth strikes follow with some seriously lackadaisical waist lock reversals afterwards ending in a Johnny Saint inspired moment of me feeding my leg between his legs to set a trap; as he reached down with both hands in an attempt to take advantage, I instead grab them and flip him over for the first of many European Clutch pins in my career, for the incredibly satisfying 3 count victory. While the build up itself lacked any of the energy or struggle characteristic of "the master of escapology," the execution on the pin itself was pretty flawless with both of my feet planted perfectly on Cole's arms as I gripped firmly onto his wrists to properly execute what I would come to win many matches over the years with. It became such a signature that I ended up giving it my own signature name "the Pattullo Bridge" after the recently closed, nearly 100 year old crossing that connects the only two cities I've ever lived in over the last 40+ years: Surrey and New Westminster, British Columbia.

This match flows reasonable well with each vignette transitioning relatively seamlessly from one to the next; and simply put, it's a total blast to watch. While it was not completely devoid of any real connective tissue, I will continue to hammer home how much it lacked polish in some of the sequences and transitions, with the long term selling or lack there of at times in particular coming across as very "indie." Any pro wrestler will tell you that 3 Way matches are never the easiest thing to plan and sometimes the lowest common denominator is a completely reasonable goal i.e. hit a bunch of cool, well-executed moves in something resembling a match structure with none of the participants getting hurt along the way. To that I say we were mostly successful in accomplishing our primary objectives on that fateful Saturday evening in Seattle; that is of course if you can overlook the likelihood of James vomiting everywhere at the conclusion of this match, which I can not confirm one way or the other. If that was in fact the case then I suppose this spotfest of a 3 Way hot opener was an abject failure and should be avoided at all costs; but maybe I'm just over thinking things to begin with and the dudes do in fact rule after all. 

Watch:
Daniel Makabe vs James Diesel vs Cole Crazy [1/23/16]

The Complete and Accurate Daniel Makabe in 3-2-1 Battle! (Part 16) - Daniel Makabe vs Mighty Mo Knuckles III [1/8/16]

I'm miraculously back for a third consecutive week and we've magically transported back to early January 2016 for the first defense of my newly won 3-2-1 Battle! Pacific Middleweight Title against one of the more obscure wrestlers that I will discuss in this blog - "Mighty" Mo Knuckles III. If memory serves me right, this was his first match period after serving the role of bodyguard for the previous few months as part of "Romantic" Romeo Ramirez's entourage in 3-2-1 and his only singles match ever. A cursory search of Cagematch only has one other result for him a few weeks later, a tag match that also included such Battle Palace luminaries as Mighty Mac, The Fruit Bat and Bat Boy; the last of whom we will actually discuss in the next month or two but let's not get ahead of ourselves. 

MMK3 was someone who had been helping out with the shows for the last year or so all the while training at Evolv Fitness at whatever semblance of a wrestling school 3-2-1 ran at the time. While he only had a handful of matches in this era, he did end up contributing a great deal to the greater aesthetic of 3-2-1 down the line. A skilled guitar player/musician who plays in multiple local Seattle metal/hardcore bands - he would end up writing & recording multiple entrance themes for a handful of characters down the line including parodies of Danzig's "Mother" and Michael Hayes' classic Fabulous Freebird entrance song, "Badstreet USA." I'll be sure to circle back to these themes and his contributions to them when discussing those specific opponents in the future but for now we must carry on.

Mo is out first and I have zero recollection of who exactly this is accompanying him to the ring for this match; although listening to Cody Von Whistler's commentary leads me to believe he's apparently a lawyer who helped him barter a deal to receive a title match in his debut which is a pretty sweet deal if you ask me. I'm out next and this is a bit of a new look for me, starting with my "Wrestle Daniel Wrestle" shirt (something old), which was a parody of a Kevin Steen design that I had come up with a few years prior, thinking it was so much more clever than it likely was. Additionally this is the first time I'm wearing a newly acquired pair of black/gold CM Punk inspired tights (something new) that were absolutely purchased from eLucha, not unlike the pink ones that were so prominently on display a few months prior. I don't recall the exact reason why but these never became a part of my regular rotation and in fact this may have been the only time I wore them at all, although they're still taking up space in a drawer with all of my old wrestling gear. 

The look (if you can call it that) is completed with my sweet varsity jacket that would become central to my entrances and overall character for the better part of the next year; however it was a gift from my ex girlfriend (something borrowed) and it has subsequently been donated to Value Village. Alas, the days of wearing whatever random American Apparel or band hoodie (BANE, Old Man Gloom) I had worn to the venue on that day were past me as I had always wanted a regular entrance specific jacket to wear, harkening back to the days of Japanese wrestlers who wore their matching company track jackets to the ring which is just such a vibe that I've always loved; now if it had only been blue. The one unfortunate setback to an entrance jacket as opposed to something I would wear for warmth when leaving the building was my then propensity to forget it at the venue which lead to a series of photos/memes involving my opponent on that night that have haunted me for years...

The match itself has it's highlights but overall is fairly rudimentary with some obvious seams apparent to anyone watching in the building that evening or now with 10 years of hindsight on YouTube. Mo is clearly a "Big Bubba Rogers" analog and I do my best right off the get-go to sell big for him and establish his size and power advantage including being tossed backwards out of a tie up, taking a big bump on his shoulder tackle, and successfully working to a top wrist lock out of a test of strength only for him to grab a hold of the lock with his other good arm and send me flying. The rest of my early shine is all about movement, hitting him as hard and fast as I can beginning with a series of big chops in the corner and a huge missile dropkick off the top with me landing and rising to my feet with my back to him; unaware that the impactful blow while able to knock him off his feet, didn't do any real damage as he too regained his footing simultaneously.

This is where the match takes a bit of a dip and I obviously can't blame someone as green as he is for struggling to work a dynamic control segment in his first match ever. The heat as it were is a little slow and plodding, utilizing some basic "big man" offense including him choking me over the top rope, utilizing a classic bodyslam (literally my least favourite bump ever) and multiple back breakers. All of it lacks a little oomph, pinfalls look labored and there are times where I'm clearly directly him and doing my best (yet failing at) calling his spots for him which leads to a couple awkward deer in headlights moments sprinkled throughout.

There are a couple of hope spots sprinkled throughout which whenever I was working from underneath I would do my best to make as dynamic as possible while still working towards advancing whatever the story of the match was. Here we have a second rope twisting crossbody (which Mo catches and counters to a rib breaker) and a series of European Uppercuts to create an opening where I shot a go behind and made my first attempt at a German Suplex on the much larger man. However it is thwarted when he uses his much larger frame to back me into the corner with force; although it only stuns me momentarily and I quickly scale Mr. Knuckles with a great looking piggyback rear naked choke (see above) with him quickly shutting down my efforts by falling backwards with even more force to the mat. This is a pretty legendary spot from the Vader/Cactus Jack series of matches from WCW in 1993 and was the first time I ever did it when working with a larger opponent. Much to my own detriment, it would become a regular go-to spot I would utilize whenever I found myself in this scenario and realistically there's no good way to work that spot, making it look adequately impactful and it *not* outright sucking to be on the receiving end of; plain and simple it's not fun to take and that just is what it is.

For all of my complaints of the execution at times, I do love the structure of this match in how basic and concise it is; whenever I'm not attempting to launch my comebacks by flinging my body at him, I'm attempting to out technique him and bring him down to the mat where I clearly hold the advantage skill wise. Yet another attempt along these lines with me digging the point of my elbow into his shoulder is countered with a Snake Eyes, another classic big man move (dare I say bodyguard move specifically; thanks Kevin Nash) which is probably his best looking offense all match. Following in with a series of splashes in the corner, I was able to roll underneath a second one, narrowly avoiding it and finally hitting a big release German Suplex to take the big man off of his feet. Following that are two big Bryan Danielson inspired dropkicks in the corner, complete with clearly apparent thigh slaps and now I find myself clearly in the driver's seat. Laying prone on all fours I methodically twist his arm, digging his uncomfortably bent wrist into the mat and leaping into the air to stomp his shoulder; sending all that force careening through his upper body and leaving him susceptible to my patented Jim Breaks Armbar for the tap out victory.

While mechanically this match is clunky at points, there is nonetheless a decent logic and story through line from the start to finish of a relatively short 7 minute run time. The selling lacks a little nuance and polish at times from both of us but as far as first matches go, I think Mo did a relatively good job all around. I think injuries may have derailed his wrestling career but he's a super nice guy whom I always enjoy running into whenever I have over the years in Seattle. It is nice to see how relatively over I was at that particularly moment and the people are clearly getting behind me during the heat with semblances of "Wrestle Daniel Wrestle!" chants scattered throughout the crowd. My on again, off again tag partner stemming from our debut as a team nearly two years prior Drew Sarian is out after the fact to congratulate me with an initially awkward hug (and kiss from him; something he began doing on a semi regular basis to catch me off guard) before I appear to accept the situation. This was right near the beginning of our own version of the kind of relationship Sting & Lex Luger demonstrated in early 1996 WCW where despite being at opposite ends of the broad Heel/Face dynamic spectrum, we managed to maintain our prior friendship with one another... for now.

Watch:
Daniel Makabe vs Mighty Mo Knuckles III [1/8/16]

The Complete and Accurate Daniel Makabe in 3-2-1 Battle! (Part 74) - Daniel Makabe vs Negro Navarro [8/24/18]

 

How about this for a bit of a loaded surprise; not only am I writing my second blog entry in as many weeks (after being dormant for over half a year) but I'm discussing a match from 2+ years later in the chronology of my tenure in 3-2-1 Battle! that I assumed would not be discussed for quite some time.  And to be honest with you, while I had batted around the idea of jumping around in the timeline to discuss some bigger and better matches from later on, that's absolutely not what I had decided I was going to do after posting last week's entry. I currently have more time and energy to put towards my various creative endeavors and I fully intended on writing about my first match as the newly crowned and defending 3-2-1 Battle! Pacific Middleweight champion from all the way back in early January 2016; but that's just going to have to wait another week. Sometimes the best laid plans of mice and men, i.e. one of the best technical wrestlers of all time whom you were lucky enough to have two matches with back in 2021-2022 and in a strange bit of happenstance has not only become a bit of a mentor to you but also a friend, makes a very specific request and you just have to answer the call...

Funny enough, this story actually does begin back in the spring of 2016 when the Seattle based promotion "Lucha Libre Volcanica" announced that they were bringing in legendary llave master Negro Navarro for a seminar to be held at Evolv Fitness i.e. "The Battle Palace," a venue that they also rented out to host their weekly training sessions and monthly shows, albeit with a very different demographic. I was absolutely floored at this announcement and had every intention of registering when it dawned on me that the date conflicted with that of my cousin's wedding here in Greater Vancouver, which in itself conflicted with a reunion show of 90s CanCon alternative rockers 'The Age of Electric' whom were playing the legendary Commodore Ballroom downtown, a venue that I subsequently wrestled in a handful of times years later. As things went that day, I was not in Seattle to learn from one of my absolute idols, my cousin's wedding went off without a hitch save for some wild behavior from her mother in law to be and I did end up dipping out of there earlier than scheduled in order to catch one of 10 year old Daniel's favourite bands play such hits as "Ugly", "I Don't Mind" and "Remote Control." This was of course while unbeknownst to me, I was parked illegally which lead to my car getting towed which I wasn't able to retrieve until the wee hours of the morning; so even without sitting under the learning tree of Profe Navarro, it was already an eventful enough day as is.

The Age of Electric "Ugly" (1993) music video which got a decent amount of airplay on Muchmusic and certainly captured my attention even if I didn't really understand what was going on during most of it; other than the fact that I thought "these guys rock."

Fast forward to a little over a year later: in the last 12+ months I've subsequently lost the 3-2-1 Pacific Middleweight Title (act surprised when I write about it in a few months time) breaking my left foot in the process and subsequently missed out on the entire summer's worth of bookings all the while having to wear a walking boot. But in the spring of 2017, things are back in full swing at 3-2-1 and I'm even starting to branch out a bit more into some other local independent companies in Washington and Oregon. Most importantly Lucha Libre Volcanica has announced another seminar with Negro Navarro to take place in June of that year, which won't conflict with any other family member's weddings this time but sadly will fall on the same weekend that my band TAXA will be driving to Calgary to play in the annual Sled Island music festival, which was a fest I had dreamed of attending for years let alone getting to actually take part in it. In addition to playing an afternoon show at Tubby Dog on SW 17th Ave (RIP), I ended up doing merch for my friends in BLACK PILLS who were playing on a bill that evening with the legendary hardcore band Converge who as always, absolutely annihilated. The other fun thing that came of that was slinging t-shirts afterwards next to their singer Jacob Bannon whom I knew was a big Pro Wrestling/MMA fan and practically having to be kicked out of the venue while our mutual bandmates patiently waited at the front door as we gabbed about all things combat sports like a couple of old buddies.

Another year passes and even more has happened since then; the first battle with Timothy Thatcher, the birth of "The Wrestling Genius" and subsequently winning the 3-2-1 Battle! Solid Steel championship. I'm continuing to grow as a performer as well as branch out to even more companies around the region, with my first booking ever in the Southeast for Nashville's SUP (Southern Underground Pro) which in itself would have significant influence on where my wrestling career would take me, just a few months away. Yet again, Lucha Libre Volcanica announced another seminar with Negro Navarro but this time out it's in August and there will be multiple sessions stretched out over two consecutive weekends. There are no more excuses or scheduling conflicts that will get in the way of me getting to learn first hand from the maestro himself and I make plans to attend the session on Saturday August 25th, the day after that Friday evening's 3-2-1 Battle Show which I am already booked on. Navarro arrives in Seattle with no issue the weekend beforehand and teaches his first seminar as scheduled which a few of my peers attended including Sonico, whom I wrestled in more singles matches in 3-2-1! Battle than any other opponent over the course of my tenure there; buckle up for 5 separate blog entries about him in the future. He informed me that Navarro was free the following Friday evening and seemed open to the idea of working, putting the bug in my ear to pitch a single's match with him to the powers that be in the 3-2-1 office who agreed it was a great idea.

Which finally brings us to the match itself - announced on social media on 5 days notice with those following along closely to my slow rise on the indies being completely caught off guard by this seemingly inexplicable "Dream Match" somehow materializing. Although I assure you, no one was nearly as surprised as I was, doing my best to remain calm and arrive prepared on the day itself. The timing of it all in actuality wasn't great as I had suffered a mild injury in a match two weeks prior at 3-2-1 against a familiar foe in Cole Crazy when I landed awkwardly on my head and neck whilst attempting a Sunset Flip out of a Powerbomb otherwise known as the 'Manami Roll', a move made famous by legendary Joshi wrestler Manami Toyota. I did end up missing a booking in Oregon later on that same weekend but thankfully was in good enough shape that it wasn't an issue for this one a fortnight later; not that I would have missed this match for the world.

Putting together this match is maybe my favourite story that I have from all of my years of wrestling and one that I've told plenty of my peers in locker rooms or shared car rides to shows. Navarro showed up that evening and it was immediately apparent how gracious he was for the opportunity to work in front of different crowd with a different crew. Despite his tenure or status in this industry, he went out of his way to approach every single person on the show that night and shake their hand to say hello. I approached him fairly early in this process while he found himself surrounded by a handful of the other wrestlers and let him know that we would be working together that evening which lead to him asking me if I spoke Spanish (I don't), which I returned the favour by asking him if he spoke English (he doesn't). Finding ourselves at a standstill, I made the off the cuff remark that "... but both of us speak Wrestling" which he smiled and agreed with me "Si, Si! We do!" Later that evening I had multiple people present for this moment inform me that it was one of the coolest things they had ever been witness to and I assured them that the feeling was mutual.

Thankfully for me there was exactly one wrestler on the show that evening who was fluent in both languages which was my friend Jose otherwise known as River Strife, one half of the 3-2-1 Battle tag team champions The Legion of Gloom and I would be leaning heavily on him to help me with communication. Barring the language barrier that made an interpreter necessary, I can probably count on one hand the amount of opponents I've had an easier time putting a match together with. The legend himself laid it out very simply, when it came to how he wanted things to go. First we would begin with "whatever happens, happens" which was his hyper literal way of saying we would wrestle on the fly. Then he wanted to run a mid-match sequence that was very inspired by 70s British Wrestling that I had likely seen him do in one of his recent matches I had studied on YouTube in preparation, which he was willing to practice with me *exactly* twice; once as we were planning in that moment and once again right before the match began. Then, you guessed it: more of "whatever happens, happens" before he finally asked me what I had in mind for a finish. I told him I would like to hit him with one big punch out of nowhere aka "The Big Unit", my homage to legendary Seattle Mariners' pitcher Randy Johnson and while he lay there stunned, catch him off guard with La Casita for the surprise pinfall victory. He agreed that would be suitable and we went our separate ways until the match itself began.

The match was refereed by Gearl Hebner, more widely known as AEW's Aubrey Edwards whom I still to this day consider a friend and someone I'm thankful I got to work with as much as I did and couldn't be more proud of. In hindsight it's pretty neat that she got to referee this match and would subsequently go on to referee matches with some of the best technical wrestlers on Earth including Bryan Danielson vs Zack Sabre Jr in Seattle, as well as main events at the most famous Lucha Libre venue there is, Arena Mexico. While I did my best to prepare for every trick this 60 year old man could possibly throw at me including a private training session the week beforehand with my buddy Artemis Spencer, who did his best to mimic a veteran luchador and put me through my paces, I had no idea of exactly what to expect at any given moment; even as the match began and he immediately turned the tides on me as I went to shake his hand and he manipulated it into a wrist lock variant that I was not at all familiar with.

From that point onwards - "whatever happens, happened" and I did my best to sell and feed for him appropriately while also interjecting my trademark logic and struggle. I personally love the 'catch and release' style of llave that Navarro has become famous for especially in his older days but at times it can look somewhat forced and really require a particularly strong suspension of disbelief to enjoy. I'm someone who's made his career on being a fan of various styles from all over the world and throwing them into my own "technical wrestling blender" while being sure to have it all make sense; "Wrestling Genius" wasn't just a cool sounding nickname that I gave myself for the hell of it. I re-watched this match earlier today for the first time in probably 5 years and found that the first half of it absolutely breezed by with very little break in the action; with each hold being applied with a little extra emphasis and whomever found themselves on the defensive in that moment (which ended up being me for the good majority of the match), struggling to find their way out and counter with their own hold in response. 

At this point I should bring up the elephant in the room which is the 3-2-1 Battalion themselves, whom absolutely are responsible for this match going as well as it did. We were well aware how great our regular crowds who packed the Battle Palace every other Friday night were but on paper this felt like it was going to be particularly challenging; keeping them engaged in a match that would be stylistically like nothing they had ever seen before on these shows. We ended up psyching ourselves out a little too much and deciding it would be best to put this on as the semi-main event that evening, leaving a more comedic match to close out the show- a 3-Way match between 3-2-1 regular Kaden Talbain, Northeast Independent Wrestler (and fellow backyard alumni) Johnny Cockstrong and legendary Japanese Comedy Wrestler Kikutaro; whom was particular despondent over the idea of having to follow a Negro Navarro match... we probably should have listened to him. Luckily for Navarro & I the crowd were electric, showing so much appreciation for the back and forth nature of the match and loudly cheering each and every time I found myself on the receiving end of an escalating excruciating submission as the maestro himself grinned ecstatically.

Kaden Talbain vs Johnny Cockstrong vs Kikutaro which headlined the show that evening. If memory serves me right these three had a really fun match that was sadly met by an exhausted crowd whom didn't show it the kind of love that it deserved. Not only that, but one of the regular fans emailed the 3-2-1 office the next day to complain about Kikutaro being culturally insensitive/appropriation - I wish I was making any of that up.

The exhibition of submissions continued to escalate with Navarro using the legendary Sugar Hold otherwise known as a stockade for any catch wrestling nerds out there, before I was finally able to transition to the Cattle Mutilation aka the Makabe Lock which I don't know if the man had ever been on the received end of as I struggled to get him to sell all the way down to his belly appropriately. He did however manage to escape it and in turn lock on an armbar which lead to the first and only rope break of the match which is a lesson I still impart to young wrestlers today in regards to structure and how to make seemingly inconsequential moments carry more meaning and act as story telling devices. This nicely segued to the aforementioned mid-match sequence which begins with me awkwardly applying a right handed headlock at Navarro's insistence, something I likely never did before or afterwards in my entire wrestling career. Despite it not being executed as cleanly or quickly as I would have liked, the fans came alive after this moment which I think was more a byproduct of what they had seen in the prior 7 or 8 minutes that lead us there rather than the highspot itself.

While I think the first half of this match really shines with us working together incredibly well, things do start to unravel a little bit in the second half with some of the transitions being a little too loose and lacking the same logic and struggle of what we had done prior. Despite this, we still managed to execute the biggest moment of the entire match with Navarro methodically and systematically locking me into a hanging scorpion hold which I had major trepidations about how good it could possibly look on someone as big as I am. This is just another example of the overarching theme of this match though; a series of unexpected events unfolding just about as well as they possibly could in a struggle between an aging lucha legend and a 30 something year old white kid from Western Canada with no formal training in the niche art form he was attempting to excel in.

Which brings us to the conclusion of the match which was definitely slightly awkward. I recall pitching that he should be more in control to help escalate my sense of frustration of not being able to compete in a pure battle of holds with him which would lead to me creating some separation and throwing the aforementioned lone punch to stun him. Unfortunately for me, it was far from the best one that I've ever thrown (it looked fine, didn't sound great) although 3-2-1's resident play by play man Cody Von Whistler did point out for everyone that it was the first strike of the match which I would wager was a specific plot point that I brought to his attention to emphasize beforehand as I was certainly known to do. Laying prone on all fours immediately afterwards, I snatched his arm and grapevined it, turning him over onto his shoulders with Negro Casas' famed pinning hold La Casita... sort of.

At the time I was gunning to hopefully get a match with another incredibly talented technical wrestler who was tearing up the independents and ROH, Jonathan Gresham. It was at that point he had recently started finishing off opponents with his own version of La Casita (aka La Magistral Cradle) with the added flourish of floating his far leg over, ending up in a standing position and finishing off the hold with a bridge to put added pressure onto his opponents' shoulders. While I told Navarro that I was going to finish him with *the* most legendary pinning combination in all of Lucha Libre, I was secretly planning on incorporating that same signature addition to the hold as "The Octopus" in hopes of further setting the table for a big match up with him down the line. I'm very lucky in that the eventual match with Gresham did finally occur the following April in one of the biggest of my career; however I'm incredibly unlucky that as I was attempting to float over Navarro to execute the variation on the classic maneuver, our legs collided and completely shifted our positions altogether. I did the best I could to adapt on the fly, hooking his leg and keeping his shoulders down for Gearl's 3 count but it looked decidedly clunky.

That unfortunate circumstance aside, realistically I don't know that this match could have gone any better. I essentially broke my character of the smug, over-confident and appropriately hated Solid Steel Champion to let everyone in the room know just how much of a dream match what had preceded before them was and how much I appreciated the opportunity; letting the man himself know in my less than stellar Spanish, how much of a legend he is. I left the room to allow him the opportunity to soak in the adulation from the room, only for him to cut a promo of his own through an interpreter, He thanked everyone there for being so passionate about Lucha Libre and as I would soon come to realize was a classic Lucha trope, grandstanded (grandstood?) for a rematch with me in the future; which sadly never materialized. I can vividly remember standing backstage during his promo and having someone encourage me to go back out to the ring to be in Navarro's presence for it all; together as peers. Watching it now with 7+ years of hindsight as well as nearly 2 years since I've officially retired from pro wrestling itself, I can clearly see myself fighting back tears on the screen as I sat on my couch fighting back tears in the present moment.

After the show itself was over, I found myself at my merch table talking to fans about what had unfolded that evening as well as pushing whatever my latest limited release shirt was when I was approached by a middle aged Mexican woman who asked me if she could take a photo of me and her brother together. I of course was happy to oblige and followed her over to another table set up adjacent to mine where she lead me next to a smiling Negro Navarro (as much as he's seemingly capable of smiling at least) and the two of us posed for a photo that I still to this day have never seen. Suddenly all of these annual trips to Seattle that Negro Navarro was making to teach seminars made sense; he was actually going to visit his family, only sharing his wisdom on the side. It's certainly not the best match that I ever had in a 3-2-1 Battle! ring (or any ring for that matter) but I don't know if another match or moment in my life, meant half as much to me as this one did.

Watch:
Daniel Makabe vs Negro Navarro [8/24/18]