As I've mentioned before, my style of wrestling stems from the Lancashire style of Catch Wrestling and I regularly train with Roy Wood (not the lead singer of Wizard). I have failed to mention previously, due to a terrible slip of the mind, that the first real exposure I had to the style was through a wrestler by the name of Billy Robinson. A few years ago, before I'd stepped a foot in Aspull, I happened across a video on youtube of an old pro wrestler (Billy) torturing two poor MMA fighters with what he called "the double wrist lock." He broke every part of the move down into such detail, knowing what to do and what not to do, as well as why. I was amazed. During the whole video "scientificwrestling.com" was shown at the bottom. I typed it in and found an American based site, which ment the training was American based and there wasn't much chance that the old wrestling coach would be wandering down my street anytime soon. Too bad. Although not long after that I rediscovered UWFi and that lead me to Kazushi Sakuraba, which is what finally got me on a train to Wigan.
It all started with Billy Robinson and that double wrist lock.
Flash forward about 2 years and you've got me, sitting at my laptop, fresh from a flight back from Salt Lake City Utah. Head filled with a gravelly voice shouting "Do it again! Do it again!" I'll be waking up for weeks hearing that voice. I've just got back from seeing Billy.
SLC - The Preliminaries
Whenever I have to make a decision which takes me out of my routine, and therefore out of my comfort zone, I have to make it as soon as possible otherwise I'll procrastinate and over think the situation and it'll never get done. I was spending some of my, increasing sparse, free time watching wrestling videos. Specifically watching Antonio Inoki get belly to belly suplexed over the top rope, for maybe the seventh time, when I started thinking about my training and where I was going and goals I'd set and so on. I always try and keep myself moving foward, and moving towards somewhere that I'd want to be. I felt like I needed a change. Something to kick me in the arse and get me running again. So after rewinding and watching Inoki go over the top rope for the eighth time, I looked to his opponent, Billy Robinson.
I knew Billy had been doing Catch wrestling certifications every five or six months (the certifications are to modern day Catch what the grading systems are to Eastern martial arts i.e. to stop any old idiot running around claiming he's a master) for the last few years. I started thinking that what I needed was a pseudo holiday. Get away from everything for a few days, change of scenery, and meet and train with one of the greatest wrestlers of all time. Sounded like a good plan.
SLC - Day 1 - Travel
A few months after I make that decision I'm sat in my kitchen, at about six in the morning, double checking every I need is packed. Clothes (check), training gear (check), books (check), protein power ((God, I hope they don't think it's drugs) check), I'm ready. I've given myself more than enough time to get to the airport and check in. Everything runs fine. I check in, grab a snack (my first of what was to be many servings of sushi), and read a book, whilst keeping a constant eye on the board telling me when the airplane's ready.
I'd previously flown, but it had been years since I'd been on a plane and since my last international trip I felt I'd gotten a better grasp of the concept, and fear of, death. As a kid I never really thought twice about the plane crashing. As a twenty year old it seemed like the only thing I could think about. It didn't hit me until that first intial jolt of the engines, but once it did I felt my heart racing. Obviously everything went fine, because I'm typing this right now, but I'm just glad that no one was sitting next to me on that take off because my eyes were wide and my breathing didn't sound healthy. In short, I looked like I was having a panic attack. My mind flicked to that scene in Fight Club where Tyler is explaining that the reason they give you oxygen masks on an airplane is to get you high on pure air, which allows you to accept death easier. This didn't help. "Try to focus on something else," said some part of my mind, then another part of my brain decided that Final Destination was an equally good movie to remember at a time like this. Honestly I'm my own worst enemy. I imagined running up to the cockpit to ask the pilot to land the plane and let me off, but in my mind's eye the person who appeared on the otherside of the door wasn't me, it was Leslie Nielsen. He swung his head in and said "Good luck. We're all counting on you." Okay, that thought made me relax a little.
After a couple minutes of being in the air and a surprisingly nice meal, I relaxed a little more, but not much. I was trying not to fall asleep because I knew I wouldn't be dreaming anything comforting. Luckily I needed the tiolet. I say luckily because when I was stood in the bathroom I realised as long as I don't see an open window I'm fine with being in the air. I could just convince myself I was on a train. That made the hours alot easier to pass by and let me get some decent sleep. The first flight took me from Manchester to Las Vegas, after that I was going from Vegas to Atlanta, and then, finally, Atlanta to Salt Lake City.
Arriving in Vegas was weird. I was in America but I wasn't really going to get to see it properly for another few hours, because I had to stay in the airport. I'd have to wait until Utah before I got to look at anything other than airplanes and fast food. The next few flights went fine. I'd gotten over the near heart attack on the first trip of the day, so the remaining two were easy to deal with. Apart from forgetting I had a bottle of water in my bag and only realising after the bag was scanned ("Please don't think I'm a terrorist. Please don't think I'm a terrorist.") the rest of the day past without much interesting happening. I arrived in Utah near midnight, got to my hotel, and fell asleep by one. I'd gained seven hours traveling. I remember thinking that back in England people were probably leaving their front doors on the way to work, whilst I was just about to fall asleep in America.
On the next post I spend my first full day in Utah, getting the lay of the land, double checking training details, and begining what would become an adventure into as many sushi restaurants as I could find.
Jack G.
