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Saw him at Ryde Ice Arena on the Isle Of Wight in the early nineties, my first experience of live wrestling. He was on with London heavyweight Big John Prayter, but there was little pretence of his fate that night.
I was sat next to a thirty-something fella who showed me his autograph book, filled from following wrestling around the country. He had everyone; except Haystacks. "Well, tonight's your chance", I said. The autograph guy looked down at the Man Mountain Of European Wrestling as he lumbered to the ring like a detached glacier, dwarfing the ringside fans as he passed. The ring steps protested under his weight as he finally reached the ring, and he spent several minutes manouvering his gigantic body between the ropes before spending several more stalling in his corner as Big John cowered in the other. "Yeah", said the autograph guy sarcastically. "Why don't I go and ask him now?"
When the bout finally began, it was brutal. But then Haystack's matches always were; how else would you attack a guy that size? In Big John's case, the answer was to throw everything. Use the bell, rip off the corner bags to get to the posts ("here comes the blood", said the autograph guy with relish), whack the big guy with chairs, do whatever it took; all to no avail, because when Haystacks finally hit the big elbow (which seen and heard in the flesh was like watching a house collapse on someone) he was out for the count. He was still out when the guys from the back came out to drag his bruised carcass back to the dressing room, well after Haystacks had manouvered himself back out of the ring and returned to the back. Prayter obviously recovered OK, though, as he was right as rain to return for the rumble at the end of the night.
As for Haystacks on television, I really can't remember too much because I was too young when he was on in the early eighties (I remember watching with my Dad, but none of the details) and I'd lost interest by 1986, when I was old enough to have remembered things. But I was greatly impressed by the footage of the Haystacks/Nagasaki _title_ bout at Fairfield Halls at the end of the Arena Peter Blake/Kendo documentary. Having heard that British wrestling in general wasn't as rough as the Americans (to me this meant WCW rather than WWF as we didn't have satellite), I saw instead a brutal, bloody scrap which, combined with Paul Yate's film direction and editing, with angelic music playing as the violence climaxed with Haystacks tearing Kendo's mask in half and Nagasaki legging it out of the ring, leaving a close-up of a bloodied Haystacks with an exhausted _expression_ perfectly summing up the battle he'd just survived, absolutely sensational.
To this day that match is one of my favourite filmed wrestling moments, and one which, like much of Nagasaki's career, still retains it's mythology.
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