UWF 16/01/1990 - WITH '90 1ST (20/31)

UWF With '90 1st
Nippon Budokan, Tokyo
16th January, 1990
att. 14130

Wintertime in Japan brings spectral sights to UWF: a fighting fortress on a hill blanketed in powdery snow as ducks bob for food, soundtracked by an airy Hiroshi Yoshimura-esque motif.

New year Budokan

 
It is beautiful and a potent reminder of how shoot-style caught the wave of a particular aesthetic moment as much as it existed in the brief space between the old (pro-wrestling) and the new (mixed style fighting). These moments of stillness and gravity are things that contemporary wrestling seems to miss in its rushed presentation, if I can have this one opportunity to grouse.

Fireworks accentuate the now-traditional parade. Tickertape streams from the roof. A bearded western man I have never seen before rushes out purposefully.

SHOOT-STYLE ORB

The UWF theme parps with an extra air of the triumphant. This is UWF in the 90s; emboldened by the incredible record-shattering Dome show the month before and set on domination. And yet the company is within its final year of existence.

The full roster runs out here. In just over 18 months of UWF (at this point) we begin to realise that pretty much all of these guys are beloved regardless of their win/loss records or perceived placement and utility; they are men adored in the way wrestlers used to be - with distanced awe and respect, ineffable monsters of power and technique, visible only for this moment and in the traces left behind in the next day's sports reports.

After a brief oration from the man-mental Maeda, we cut to our opening match: the eternally preliminary Shigeo Miyato (whose silhouette on performing his signature move [Rolling Sole Butt] is quite faun-like) takes on newcomer Kevin Kastelle. Kastelle, be-mulleted as well as be-bearded, wears white trousers that one would normally accompany a gi, but he lacks the gi. With this he pairs kickpads and Asics Tigers for a classic Shiro Koshinaka look.

 
Kastelle's general mien is that of Bart Vale by way of Chuck Norris (or the other way around) - a tall man of kicks, possibly kenpo but the high loop suggests Taekwondo. He lurches forward but Miyato counters effectively with judo; first throwing Kastelle and then crawling all over him on the ground. The match has several permutations of this - Kastelle occasionally gets counterplay, and at one point he hurts Miyato with an enziguri, a penetrating kick, some Muay Thai knees, and a regular suplex.

Kastelle isn't exactly killing in there in terms of originality and excitement. But he is scoring downs, getting up to 3-0. Miyato's mental block here is seeking the purity of a clean kill by submission. Eventually the fog lifts and Miyato decides to do it Kastelle's way; barrowing him over with a kick, a weird suplex that looks bad and painful, and a cross kneelock for the win in 6.39. Miyato is much better under 10 minutes. A good start.

A post-match google of Mr. Kastelle finds this:

Grand Master Kevin Kastelle: A Remarkable Martial Art Professional you can trust.

All this and more can be found here. I am always so glad to learn that the competitors just went back to being martial artists.

Another newcomer enters the crosshairs of notorious shooter Minoru Suzuki: his name is Wellington Wilkins Jr. A stout fireplug of a man, his hair has a widow's peak and isn't properly grown-in at the sides. In a way it resembles the way his opponent's would look in the 21st century. Wilkins' gear is that of the classic shootist of this era: black trunks, kneepads, kickpads, and trainers.

Tenryu hair respect from Suzuki

The two feel each other out for tentative grapples. Suzuki quickly decides 'enough of this' and slaps Wilkins across the face and then taunts him cockily. Undaunted, our visitor returns to attempt to out-wrestle rather than be held prisoner by his new-found anger. Suzuki quickly takes him over and leaves Wilkins requiring the rope for escape.

Suzuki slaps Wilkins about a bit, causing Wilkins to look at his opponent with puzzlement, as if this was not part of the bargain. Suzuki takes Wilkins over again into kesa-gatame. Wilkins' arm pops out and Suzuki tries to catch it between his own leg. They're having a terrific struggle together on the floor - it feels like real grappling or judo up until Wilkins regains the vertical. His own slaps back to Suzuki are a little polite, as are his kicks.

Lovely fireman's carry by Suzuki takes Wilkins over again. Suzuki takes a full mount, slapping Wilkins with impunity. Wilkins rolls Suzuki for an attempted juji-gatame but the crowd aren't buying him after his powdery kicks and general wet lettuce vibe. Suzuki is just hovering and waiting for the kill and an attempted leg lock wakes the crowd up as Wilkins scurries to the ropes for relief anew.

In the following sequence Wilkins wins the crowd around with a double-arm suplex that he floats over into an attempted kimura. The crowd roar for Suzuki to escape, which he duly does, and the fight collapses with an awkward grapples that both men seem to slip while engaged in. Suzuki wins the crowd back with a suplex and then fully dropkicking Wilkins through the ring ropes for a down.

All of a sudden the holes seem apparent - Suzuki isn't countering Wilkins' control spots. Suzuki chases the kimura, Wilkins escapes, and the match feels weirdly aimless. Suzuki practically rolls himself into Wilkins' best-looking submission, and then Wilkins smartly chooses this moment to enact a cocky revenge - booting the stricken Suzuki against the ropes.

the point is made, Minoru

Suzuki doesn't take well to this, as is the wont of a violent psychopath, and fires up a barrage of open-handed slaps and knees that send Wilkins down for a count (3-0). On returning, Suzuki takes Wilkins down, applies the half crab, and this one is over very quickly and angrily in 12.43. On an excitement graph this match would look like a big U shape.

Wilkins will be back in UWF and eventually follows Suzuki over to PWFG before departing for a more pro-wrestling vista in Michinoku Pro and a couple of job spots for WWF.

No time-wasting between matches, just a picture of what is to come soundtracked by some sprightly synth music. On this occasion we have the enhanced Tatsuo Nakano, slowly becoming a hero for his pugnacious performances in the back end of 1989, against the dominant Yoshiaki Fujiwara. Quite a styles clash - doughy striker meets dad bod pretzeller.

My mouth, it waters

Intense start as Nakano chases Fujiwara in the vain hope of wrestling him, but Fujiwara harai-goshis him over in a matter-of-fact fashion and immediately starts the ritual violence. Nakano rolls out and headbutts Fujiwara to the back of his legendarily-hard head. Nakano keeps the intensity as the match goes vertical and Fujiwara is just dancing to keep distance and let this porky puncher wear out his welcome. It nearly works, with a missed punch quickly becoming a Fujiwara Armbar. Nakano slips out of the back door smartly.

Interestingly, Nakano is trying to beat Fujiwara at his own game. He does some smart rolling to evade a crab and ends up remounting Fujiwara and going seriously to town on his head with about 20 (!) headbutts and follow-up kicks to Fujiwara. It feels real and violent and I have not seen anyone treat Fujiwara this way before. Fujiwara escapes, stands, smiles, adjusts his trunks, and then smashes Nakano with a headbutt for a down. The crowd nearly eject their seats and fly through the roof in happiness.

Things get messy and intense - but in a cool way - as the two try to establish control. Nakano attempts to kick Fujiwara's back and loses his footing. They tussle near the ropes and for a second Fujiwara loosens his grip, but only so he can gain distance to lash in another violent headbutt. Nakano picks up after a down (now 2-0 behind) and goes crazy with kicks on Fujiwara. This is amazing!

Fujiwara stays down, knowing Nakano can't chase him into his dense jungle of limbs. Fujiwara taunts from his back, looking to catch a kick. They roll on the floor and Nakano again gets on top and throws headbutts to weaken Fujiwara's resolve. Nakano kicks Fujiwara in the back repeatedly, with Fujiwara springing a trap Nakano never falls for.

Fujiwara stands and tries his usual plan A - backing up to counter momentum of his opponent. It works, and he goes 3-0 ahead with a gut shot. Nakano only knows one plan - forward - and he chases Fujiwara across the ring with strikes, backing him into the ropes foolishly to allow himself to get turned and put down for 4-0 and the precipice of defeat. Nakano is bust open but he throws up his dukes. It's never over!

Nakano grinds Fujiwara down to the ground, bleeding all over him. The match becomes sweaty and static. Nakano fights in desperation, Fujiwara weakened but essentially in charge despite being on the bottom, such is his lead.

Sometimes Fujiwara's smiling and tactics can appear hammy and sometimes they help structure a match perfectly. It just depends on how seriously he takes his opponent. The match restores the upright, Nakano charges with last-gasp kicks, but Fujiwara catches one, flips Nakano over and makes him tap at 13.44. Super stuff. One of my favourite UWF bouts so far.

I'd never heard anyone say anything particular about this Nakano vs. Fujiwara match, so I had a google to see if anyone else had. Sure enough, Segunda Caida come through with a two-man watch that I agree with:

TKG: Yeah this is the stuff. Nakano is great at this kind of hardhitting fast brawl. Nakano has gotten really slick and almost elaborate in his mat work. Whole story here is Nakano challenging and taking it to Fujiwara and Fujiwara catching Nakano with stuff. Nakano headbutts Fujiwara multiple times in the back and side of head. Fujiwara busts Nakano in the jaw multiple times with headbutts. The two trade nasty bodyshots. This was badass.

PAS: Nakano works this match like a guy in a boxing match down on the scorecards going into the last round. Not a ton of defense just a bull rush, Fujiwara is really great at countering and using his aggression against him, and there are also moments where he clearly gets pissed off and throws receipts. For a match built around body shots and headbutts, you got a pair of dudes who can throw a body shot and a headbutt.

Two guys who are by now on approximately the same level - Kazuo Yamazaki takes on Yoji Anjo in the semi-main. Neither are destined to be king, but perhaps they will guard the king's gates. Tellingly neither want to work with Maeda again after this.

Anjo's playing the peppy upstart in purple leopardprint to Yamazaki's ascetic warrior of the clan Reebok, which seems consistent with what we have learned about these two thus far. Anjo is all energy while Yamazaki exchanges moments of pure stillness with fluid motion around the ground (we saw none of this in his Fujiwara match, where he was the broomstick). It's a different kind of energy to everything we have seen before: cool and total competency rather than domination or aggression. A rope-break apiece is the sum total of the first five minutes.

After this, Anjo goes crazy, slicing through Yamazaki's guts with grim knees. Yamazaki waits it out on the ground, smartly overturning a kesa-gatame against into a position for himself by shifting his hips. Yamazaki adopts the Fujiwara technique in a less-pro wrestling sense: he is waiting for Anjo to attack but is feigning and feinting his own attacks in order to counter. Yamazaki is seriously good, people.

Anjo isn't chopped liver either: he's playing his part of the noble fool well and he gets the crowd animated. He also gamely eats everything when Yamazaki starts rifling in middle kicks, and then takes one on the back of the head for a down. 1-0 Yamazaki.

Anjo strikes back immediately, catching a kick, kneeing Yamazaki to the ground in the corner and then using the ropes as leverage to drop in a huge knee that wobbles Yamazaki. It doesn't score Anjo a point as it was illegal, but it leaves a mark on Yamazaki's psyche. He drops the noble aesthete facade and sets about Anjo like a wild dog. It's Anjo's gameplan, and Yamazaki takes all of a slap to finally drop down and even the score at 1-1.

Realising he has been outwitted, Yamazaki chases Anjo and secures a neat rear naked choke. Anjo hits the rope for the third time, which converts to a down. On release, Yamazaki does the same again mid-ring, mad with attack, and this time Anjo has no choice but to tap at 11.57. Good one!

A montage precedes the main event as the two big boys of UWF renew their rivalry. Company head Akira Maeda was unbeaten in 1989 - 12-0. His only UWF defeat has come at the hands of eternal pretender Nobuhiko Takada back in 1988, though Maeda did not leave it long before righting the ledger.

I AM THE KING

Maeda attacks first but Takada leans back and whups Maeda with a kick that sends Maeda down for 1-0. The crowd explode and they seem to favour Takada much stronger. Takada, historically a slow starter who powers through the final stages with booming kicks and bar-room judo, is in control in a big way here. When Maeda finally gets some play, the crowd simmer down. Interesting!

Maeda rides his former tag team partner and slaps him. The crowd do not react as strongly as even when Minoru Suzuki or Tatsuo Nakano were doing this, so I think it is safe to assume that Takada is the beloved one here. Takada makes the ropes and the two return to searching for solutions for their problems.

After some light circling, Maeda returns to parity with a high kick to Takada's cheek for 1-1. On standing, Takada lands two mighty kicks above the neckline and then hurks Maeda over in a belly-to-belly. Takada isn't quite the groundwork craftsman as others, and Maeda scuttles to the ropes with relative ease.

The crowd seem to return to Maeda when he catches a Takada kick and sits on it for an attempted crab. This time Takada makes the ropes. They're exchanging middle kicks and backing away. They're feigning for grapples and shooting low and pulling out. It is poised as hell. They take advantage of this immersive tension with a long series of groundwork exchanges that neither man totally manages to gain the upper hand during. Takada's extensive use of the rope break seems him go 2-1 down.

Takada picks the crowd back up as he slaps Maeda with a pistol-crack sound emerging from their contact. Maeda reacts angrily, catching a kick and then booting the hell out of Takada to send him down for 3-1. Takada's 9 count nearly eliminates him and he then walks into a Capture Suplex and crab attempt to take him to symbolic's death symbolic door. Maeda cinches and clinches but Takada grits his way out.

Maeda seems irresistable here, kicking Takada across the ring with a swagger that emerges when he is about to win handily. Takada fires up and lashes in some kicks of his own, stinging right-dominant zingers with real venom.

Tiring, both men circle again, Maeda having just nearly won it with a crab attempt that Takada seemed to panic in. A boomeranging kick ricochets off Maeda's temple for 3-2. This seems to momentarily blind and rattle Maeda, who clutches his head long after the 8 count he receives. The doctor comes into the ring, redolent of when Maeda opened Yamazaki up to claim a win on blood stoppage. There is no blood here and the match continues. Takada catches a kick, flips Maeda and has in the heel hold in centre ring. The crowd are in love and it peaks when Maeda taps cleanly!

mark this day!

Takada is overjoyed and leaps on the spot in disbelief. He mounts the corner to celebrate. Maeda raises his hand, slightly sharing the spotlight, but it was a clean job. The post-match montage shows Maeda's heel encased in ice as Takada claps an ice towel to his brow.

However, the show closes not on Maeda's misfortune, but Takada's triumph:

Super show, I thought. One of the best from top to bottom.

NEXT: UWF With '90 2nd!