RE-POST: Aspects of Professional Wrestling Part 1: The Carnival (Originally Written in 2002)

I'm standing in the middle of a car park on a Wednesday afternoon, and it's hot, damn hot. In three days, there will be a market here. It will be filled with eager shoppers looking to snap up the latest bargains. But on this day, the people are scattered far and wide, enjoying the atmosphere of Sheringham Carnival Day.

If truth be known, this is the first time ever I have paid attention to Sheringham Carnival. Living in Cromer, the "gem of the Norfolk coast", I have been accustomed to the splendour, the grandeur of the Cromer Carnival, second biggest in the country behind that of Notting Hill.

So why am I here? Simple. Because the World Association of Wrestling are, and where they go, I follow.

I'm beginning to wonder why I am there. It's not a normal show. There are only two matches on the card, so it doesn't seem right that I should report on the afternoon's proceedings. After all, as far as long running storylines go, they will probably have little baring. Lloyd Ryan won't suddenly appear trying to recruit more souls for his unholy army. Our World Champion, P.N. News, is not defending his title today, and even though our lady's World Champion, the Sweet Saraya, is here, she is not competing today, instead watching the back of her husband, the Rowdy One himself, Ricky Knight, as he competes in not one, but both of this afternoon's matches.

There is hardly anyone around. A few people are looking at the stalls at one end of the market, while a group of children are jumping up and down on two huge bouncy castles. Perhaps they should hire one of those contraptions, after all, such a device would be useful when teaching an eager young wrestler how to take a bump.


And so the ring van arrives, followed by a car, and our participants have arrived. While the majority of the party, led by Saraya and Ricky, seek refreshment in the town, our MC, Michael Mann, our referee, Charlie Frary, and yours truly are left standing around near the van like a trio of lemons, discussing things so intriguing, that moments later they are all but forgotten. Nearby, the main attractions, for the people of Sheringham, anyway, the UK Pitbulls, are meeting and greeting their fans.

I still wonder if anyone is actually going to be interested in this. It's a hot day, and I'm pretty sure that the majority of people within the town confines are stretched out gaining some form of skin complaint on Sheringham's sandy beach.

And so we wait, and wait, and wait. We are eager to put the ring up, but without our bosses, who are still in the town partaking of Sheringham's finest delicacies, we can do nothing.

But joy beyond joys, our employers return, and within a few minutes, we are putting the ring up.

I have observed many times now that the more people there are involved in this operation, the more time it seems to take in actually constructing the ring, so while I help out in my own small way, I am content to let those with more experience in such matters deal with such things.

In a scene reminiscent of a construction site, people, young and old, begin to gather round, to observe the proceedings. I begin to wonder what is so interesting about watching a group of men and women carry about a few pieces of iron, and then putting the pieces together, like the pieces of a jigsaw, to construct the gladiatorial arena, in a place where, three days later, someone will be selling fruit and veg and fresh fish.


The jigsaw is complete. Every piece is in place, and local carnival officials have put the icing on the cake, as it were, by putting metal barricades around the ring, so keep the spectators safe, free from the raging onslaught of the hulking wrestlers that will provide an hours entertainment for them.

The crowd, now, has increased, by a considerable amount. With the conditions getting hotter by the minute, many, both locals and visitors, seem eager to see some form of combat. Even the fact that the show is running fifteen minutes later than planned does not seem to deter them.


And so our entertainment begins. Michael Mann, complete with microphone, steps into the ring, decked out in tuxedo and bow tie. I begin to wonder if perhaps a black suit is the best form of dress on a day like this. Charlie is not far behind him, and after a couple of introductions to the crowd, our event is under way.

The Rowdy Man, complete with the English Rose, come to the ring first. They are spitting venom as they walk across the car park, and into the arena. Some of the crowd, who are not familiar with their cowardly exploits in the world of professional wrestling, don't quite know what to make of Ricky and Saraya, but some, who witnessed their outing at Sheringham High School in May, know exactly what to think of them.

After Ricky warms up the crowd with his charming ways, local hero Big Dave comes to the ring. The locals certainly know who he is. Big D is probably one of Sheringham's most recognisable citizens. It isn't hard to miss him wherever he goes.

Our contest begins, the cowardly heel against the local hero. It's a battle of size and power against craft and cunning, with the majority of the cunning coming from the Sweet Saraya, as she patrols the ringside area like a proud lioness, protecting her territory, and threatening those fans who dare to insult her.

Ricky gains the upper hand against the hero, by using several cunning tricks, tricks learned from two decades in a sport he loves more than anything, save perhaps his family. Dave fights back well, his power, garnered from years competing in strongman competitions, serves him well.

But our hero doesn't quite manage it. He is fighting an uphill battle. He is outnumbered two-to-one, as Ricky and Saraya use every underhanded trick they can against the mighty behemoth.

One trick backfires, and Ricky and Saraya begin to argue amongst themselves at ringside. As Dave attempts to gain a second wind within the confines of the ring, and Charlie attempts to restore order at ringside, everyone apart from our esteemed referee fail to see the third cowardly heel, Bash, the baseball bat wielding maniac, sneak into the arena through the crowd. Jumping onto the ring apron, and raising his bat high above his head, the weapon crashes down upon our local hero's back and head, sending him sprawling to the mat.

The coward sees his opportunity, and seizes it. Our referee, oblivious to what has happened, slaps the mat three times, and to the disgust of the locals, their hero has lost, foiled in his quest, beaten by not just one person, but by three.

Disgusted by what he has seen, our second local hero, The Bulk, Big Dave's ever loyal younger sibling, comes to the ring and tells us all of his disenchantment. Harsh words are exchanged between both parties, until a challenge is made, and agreed upon. Despite having competed in the searing heat, Ricky and Dave will return to the arena, both with a partner in crime, to compete for gold, the gold of a world tag-team championship belt.

The five minute interval allows the patrons time to answer nature's call, the time to seek refreshment, and the time to browse the merchandise table, in the hope that some of them will see fit to part with their hard earned cash.

Five minutes pass, and once again the crowd, eager for action, return to their standing position around the ringside area. Our officials return to their prearranged roles, and battle is once again set to commence.

The unholy alliance of the Rowdy One and the baseball bat wielding maniac, complete with the queen of the harpies, make their way through the crowd and enter the arena. This time, everyone knows what they are capable off.

Our local heroes, carrying championship gold, enter the arena next to the cheers of the crowd. Having been robbed of victory mere moments before, they are eager to see the heroes vanquish their opponents.

Battle begins, and once again, the cowardly heels use every underhanded tactic they can think of. It isn't long before the Bulk, the largest of our heroes, shows the signs of battle, as blood begins to pour down his face from his nose. Despite outweighing both of his opponents, he is finding it hard to overcome the three pronged attack.

But once again, those who choose to do things the underhanded way soon find out that this is the wrong way. Mistakes are made, and arguments begin, undermining their attempt to gain championship gold.

The mistakes mount up, and it isn't long before out heroes, the Pitbulls, stage a comeback. With the crowd behind them, they fight back, and using their special move, gain the victory, much to the delight of the crowd.

The cowardly heels, dismayed by their loss, again argue amongst themselves, casting blame upon each other. Challenges are then made again, to be taken up at a later date.

And so, the crowd begin to disperse, pleased with their afternoon's entertainment. The youngest of them will go home, telling their parents of the battle between good and evil, and of the upcoming show in Sheringham in about six weeks time.

Those who have only witnessed the spectacle that is sports entertainment may have been surprised at this aspect of the industry. While a great deal of revenue is gained from staging spectaculars in comfortable arenas with plush chairs, many fans are won over by this aspect, the carnival show. It is possible that this would be the only chance they have of seeing a wrestling show in person. But if they go away feeling happy, pleased at what they have seen, then it is a job well done, be you cowardly heel, or local hero.

The jigsaw puzzle that is the ring is soon broken down into several pieces once again, and put back in the van. A short time later, our combatants, now friends again, make their way in various directions, happy with their day's work.

And I make my way across the hot concrete of the car park towards the train station, happy with my day's entertainment, content with the photos I have taken. I then begin to realise that there are many different aspects to this world I have observed for countless years. It's not all about chiselled bodies and high-tech gimmickry. Theres much more to it than that.

For more information on the World Association of Wrestling, log onto their official website at www.waw-uk.com