by Abner 3:16
Humanoids, can there possibly be a more sublime cultural experience than attending an independent pro wrestling show in a small, intimate building? With the exception of a Tiajuana cockfight, I can think of no better way for families to bond.

Let's face it, the so-called big leagues of wrestling, WWF and WCW, are about as overblown and sterile as you can get. Subtract the pyro, dancing girls, endless interviews by megalomaniac owners and soap opera comedy skits and you just simply don't have much wrestling left. Plus, seeing a card at a cavernous structure like the Metro Centre removes the vital "personal" element from wrestling. At an independent card, when a wrestler tells you "shut up, you fat slob, or I'll ventilate your spleen", you know he's talking directly to YOU.

You don't get that in big time wrestling anymore. The old AWA cards at Boylan High School had that great atmosphere in spades. With the demise of the AWA, I never thought I'd experience that atmosphere again. But thank God for the tiny Steel Dominion Wrestling League. They put on a highly entertaining independent card in Rockford at the Patriot's Gateway Center on February 28, 1998, that brought back a lot of memories to this here grappling fanatic.

The enthusiastic crowd was hungry for old-time wrestling and Patriot's Center was a great place to watch the guys knock each other's brains out. You could almost feel each meaty smack and thud as if it were happening to you. The matches tonight featured such stalwart wrestling characters as crazy Russians, dancing pretty boys in feather boas, snobbish Englishmen and even those grizzled veterans the Bushwhackers. There was also some homegrown talent on show.

I had the pleasure of attending the matches with my long-time close personal friend Colossal Dave. Well, it just so happened that Dave's weightlifting buddy Mr. Al Macki had a son,.Curtis, who was making his professional debut at tonight's event. Young Curtis entered into the Battle Royal under his nom de guerre of "Bruce Blitz". I guess that makes Al and his wife Karen "Mr. and Mrs. Blitz".

The parents were justifiably proud of their son but also worried. "That ring looks mighty rickety," I commented, drawing a withering look from Mrs. Blitz. I spoke to Curtis' friend Doug Meyers, yet another aspiring wrestler. "Curtis knows it's a long road to the top, " said Doug,"but he's committed to this 100.% He'll do what it takes to be a success." Doug also commented that Curtis was inspired by Rick Steamboat and Ken Shamrock to lace up the boots and hit the ring.

More about how "Bruce Blitz" fared in the battle royal later, but now let's take further look at the card. It opened with a fairly lackluster matchup between "Hot Rod Bell", an obnoxious Sandman-lookalike, and "Hawkeye", who hailed from Chicago. The hapless Hawkeye showed all the killer instinct of a Teletubby as he was quickly dropped by a Diamond Cutter maneuver from Bell. A routine opener.

Things heated up a lot for the second bout, an outstanding cruiserweight battle between Lightning Louie Cruise and "The Tahitian Prince", Riki Noga. Cruise's original opponent was supposed to be the highly touted Kevin Quinn, who is getting interest from the WWF. Quinn didn't show but the bout was excellent anyway. Cruise, looking like a smaller version of Koko B. Ware, executed some great high flying maneuvers that had the crowd ooohing and aaahing.

There's definite potential in both these guys and Cruise in particular could give any top WCW cruiserweight a run for the money. The next bout saw long-time Midwest veteran Sonny Rogers take on the effeminate Englishman Derek St. Holmes, Esquire. Am I nuts or was Derek St. Holmes the singer for Ted Nugent's old band? Anyway, I'm guessing the closest Derek's ever been to the British Isles is watching old episodes of Benny Hill. Nonetheless, the bout was fairly entertaining.

I had the pleasure of actually speaking to Sonny during the intermission period. I discovered that he is now semi-retired and running his own training school for aspiring wrestlers. But the call of the ring is strong and Rogers still likes to hit the mat now and then. He won the bout with St. Holmes and looked like he had lost little from his glory days.

A jobber in the big leagues, small cards like this give Sonny room to shine. "I was on the A&E Biography of Jesse Ventura," he said."I was in four segments. I should've got paid!"

The NAWF Tag Team title was on the line during the next bout. Champions Rockin' Randy and Electric Eric Freedom (who looked like a pudgy X-Pac wearing psychedelic pajamas) took on the dastardly duo of Sexy Ace Steele and Adrian Lynch, accompanied by their manager Michael Starr. The heels were so exaggerated, they made the bad guys on Space Ghost seem subtle.

There was plenty of stalling here as the heels were tormented with chants of "Wussie" and "Fatso". Things finally heated up into a good bout, though, and it looked for a while like Steele and Lynch were going to take the belts when the ref got knocked out. However, a second ref saw that justice prevailed. This sort of blatant "good vs. evil" bout just isn't seen in the big leagues anymore.

Rockford's own Scrap Iron Pearce fought up-and-comer Danny Dominion in the next bout and it was a doozy. Both men show potential. Pearce got the hometown fans cookin' in a hurry. But Dominion comes across as an excellent heel with great athletic ability and ring skills. I hear ECW is looking to sign him up and it wouldn't be a bad move. Local hero Pearce won the match after an exciting contest.

The venerable Bushwhackers from New Zealand were up next, facing the Mad Russians. Most of the crowd was there to see Luke and Butch, remembering them fondly from their days as comedic rowdies in the WWF. Both men are clearly past their prime but they have enough left to entertain the fans.During the lengthy intermission, they took pictures with the fans (mostly young kids) for ten dollars a pop. That sounds like a lot but the guys stayed till every kid was satisfied.

Watching all of the silly antics of the Bushwhackers, it's hard to believe they were once known as the Kiwi Sheepherders, the most bloodthirsty and anti-American tag team in history. In the 70's and early 80's, they were known to spit on the American flag. Virtually every match they had was a bloodbath. But the kinder, gentler Bushwhackers of the 90's, while still rugged, are a different proposition altogether. It's great to known there are still Mad Russians running around in wrestling.

Every grappling Russki looks the same...bald head, beard, red tights festooned with the hammer-and-sickle. These guys came right out of a time warp and even sang the old Soviet national anthem, bringing fierce chants of "Russia sucks!" from the crowd. It gives the Good Doctor a fuzzy feeling of nostalgia to know Mad Russians are still around. Now we need more salt-throwing Japanese and berserk Arabs to make the picture complete!

At any rate, after a long bout where the Bushwhackers stalled around a lot but still took plenty of punishment, the Russians defeated themselves when one of their double-team moves backfired. Luke and Butch were victorious, leaving Colossal Dave to sigh, "The world is safe for democracy again." It also warmed my heart to see the Bushwhackers going into the crowd to shake hands and greet the many handicapped kids that were there. You sure as hell won't see Scott Hall and Kevin Nash doing that at a Monday Nitro!

The 15 man Battle Royal was next, featuring the debut of Bruce Blitz. Mr and Mrs. Blitz were anxious but excited. As the 15 grapplers strode towards the ring, Bruce was in the middle of the pack. A smallish fellow with a shaved head, his energy was easy to pick up, as friends and family chanted "Bruce, Bruce!" to urge him on. The Battle Royal was short and sweet, possibly because the card was running a little late. Bodies were flying everywhere over the top rope.

Blitz got hammered on by just about everybody but acquitted himself well. He was eventually tossed out but well after many other competitors had been eliminated. I noted that no mats were on the floor around the ring, making the match genuinely dangerous. The bout finally came down to Scrap Iron Pearce and the Russians. Once again, liberty and freedom prevailed, as Pearce won the Battle Royal. This last bout went a little too quick to suit mytastes but overall, the evening was highly enjoyable.

Cards like this one used to be what wrestling was all about. It's what WCW and the WWF have totally forgotten about. There's a feeling of fun and camaraderie at an independent show that you just can't get at a RAW or a Nitro, with their hordes of obnoxious frat boy fans and slick production values. Sure, independent wrestling may be corny and even behind the times, but we need it as a reminder of the way things used to be.

Thanks to promotor Larry Young (a former AL umpire) for bringing this to the people. And keep an eye out in the future for Bruce Blitz, who may just be a superstar in the making.

Until next time, you lilly-livered pukes, this is Abner 3:16, singing off.