by Anthony Tao

A nervous energy ripples through the venue in the hours before showtime
at the MKW Championship Supercard from Shanghai. This is Middle Kingdom Wrestling’s first major event since China lifted its zero-COVID policy in December, and questions abound: Would old fans still be interested? Could
new ones be made? There is also a maddening pent-up anticipation:
Originally scheduled for last summer, the show was postponed when COVID lockdowns crippled Shanghai, and then postponed again in September due to
more outbreaks. This night, June 6, has been a long time coming.

Wrestlers have gathered from across China, Japan, Southeast Asia, and whereabouts unknown. Zombie Dragon, MKW’s first trainer, finalizes
details with several performers in the lead-up. Big Sam inspects the
ring. Yoshi Tatsu watches and nods. Others help tighten the turnbuckles.
Alexis Lee and Nor Diana chat near the timekeeper’s area. This is the
calm before the storm, before the makeup and costumes go on and a ragtag
band of Chinese and international wrestling amateurs, professionals,
hobbyists, and lifers make a collective transformation into superheroes
and villains.

Will the audience “get it”? That’s been on the minds of organizers. In the best wrestling matches, stories are told in the ring, whether of
underdogs triumphing against the odds or scoundrels breaking hearts,
making little kids cry; the “smarter” a crowd, the more subtlety the performers can incorporate, and the more complex the stories can become.
This is the art of professional wrestling, achieved through something
called “ring psychology,” but it requires an audience willing to suspend disbelief and let themselves be immersed in the performance, even play a
part in it.

The jury’s out on this packed Shanghai house of more than 300. Things
don’t get off to the smoothest start when the emcee confuses the stakes
of the first match. A Guangdong wrestler named M.A. (朱江 Zhū Jiāng) — who
saunters to the ring in Kansas City Chiefs regalia — beats Shaukat for
the chance to challenge for any championship at a time of his choosing
(think Money in the Bank briefcase). The crowd watches politely.

But things are only heating up. During a tag team contest between C2NY
and Bad Boys, fans chant, “Let’s go, Buffa,” while — even half a world away, conditioned by years of WWE audiences screaming at John Cena —
others reply, “Buffa sucks!”

Midway through, everyone hushes: Buffa and his opponent, Zhào Jùnjié 赵俊 杰, engage in a strong-style exchange, with Zhao knife-edge chopping Buffa
in the chest and Buffa swinging an elbow into Zhao’s jaw. They do this repeatedly.

The elbows are stiff. Purposefully stiff.

Very stiff.

Zhao’s neck turns red, then purple, drawing oohs and ahhs from the crowd, then murmurs. You can almost hear people wondering, “What’s going on?” Zhao chops, Buffa cranks. The smacks resonate through the venue.

During a later match, one of the ring girls in the VIP section
offhandedly remarks about the in-ring action, “Too fake.”

Zhao and his tag team partner, Wāng Xīnxuān 汪鑫轩, are standing nearby and
overhear this. Wang points to Zhao’s neck, which is discolored and
swollen. “Does that look fake?”

The girl doesn’t reply.

read more at: https://thechinaproject.com/2023/06/28/pro-wrestling-in-china-is-ready- for-its-comeback/

--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
* Origin: fsxNet Usenet Gateway (21:1/5)