No, not that American nonsense, the real deal. Kendo Nagasaki, Giant Haystacks, Big Daddy, Johnny Saint....those where the days my friend.
From the opening theme tune, to Dicky Davies announcing that we where going live to some hall in Preston, to watching the little old ladies going mental in the front row and Pat 'Bomber' Roach did something naughty again, it was manna from Heaven for the 10 year old 2-Bob.
The WWF (later getting it's lilly ass kicked by the World Wildlife Fund into changing it's name, how hard is that? duffed up in the Courts by a Panda and his mates?) was never the same, too showbiz, too much Lycra and Steroids, too much poodle hair and production values. It didn't look anything like as real. Hulk Hogan now has his own reality show on MTV the gently balding peroxide loving pooftah. I bet Mark 'Rollerball' Rocco is lifting hods still somewhere outside Dunstable, thats real geezer.
Anyway, British wrestling was Great. Shirley Crabtree I salute you.
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