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| Shinya Hashimoto at Fuyuki's tribute show |
Grieving the dead is a part of life. And it's not even something our souped-up
monkey brains wrenched out of the floating nether; regular monkey brains did it. Elephants will go so far as to cover their
fallen allies and return to the bones years after the fact. It is within the essence of being, to
grieve. And unless somebody can figure out how to stop
cell division, we're all gonna get there soon enough.
The molecular level of grief isn't so much what I'm worried
about, since this isn't a science blog (though it's the next best thing). We're human beings with benefits from
evolution that elephants haven't gotten.
Complex feelings, opposable thumbs and ovens to cook our food in. We communicate and we share moments and we hoard
trinkets from friends and loved ones to remember moments in time. We watch baseball games together, we go
shopping together and we build bridges
to bring ourselves to each of these people that we share with. You might say 'Of course we would grieve,
because it just makes sense'.
We have all this sophisticated architecture getting us
around, from person to person; and when it burns to the ground, we grieve just
like a monkey, just like an elephant.
I needed to preface this because I think it might be silly
out of context. And you know, it very
well may be. I think wrestling should always
be viewed with a nudge and a smile, because it's just a show. I also feel that it can give you powerful
joy, sorrow or mirth just like any kind of fine art can. All this brings me to Kodo Fuyuki.
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| Fuyuki (right) with Kintaro Kanemura |
Fuyuki began wrestling in 1980. His first big break was in All Japan Pro
Wrestling, one of the two most reputable Japanese companies, as a tag team
wrestler. With his partner Toshiaki
Kawada, he formed the team of Footloose (and yes, they came out to Footloose)
where they were 3 times tag team champions.
When he left All Japan, he eventually started in what would be called a
'hardcore' wrestling organization.
Wrestling in barbed wire matches, glass matches think of some weird,
sharp stuff to hit yourself with and that's what they'd hit each other
with. People have varying views on this
style, among fans and among the other organizations in Japan, but it's what he
did and since he did it, we can only assume it was what he loved.
He opened up his own organization in 2002, after 5 years of
the aforementioned hardcore wrestling.
Shortly after that he announced he had cancer. Despite this, he had planned one big
match. His opponent would be Shinya
Hashimoto. Hashimoto was the ace for New
Japan Pro Wrestling during one of its largest boom periods. Before that match could ever happen, Fuyuki
died of cancer.
Hashimoto kept his booking.
Instead of wrestling Fuyuki in one last match, he faced Kintaro Kanemura,
a long time friend and stable-mate of Fuyuki in "Team NO
RESPECT". The match was a No Rope
Barbed Wire Explosion match. Something
very out of character for Shinya Hashimoto to do, which speaks volumes of what
he must have thought of Fuyuki.
When you care about someone truly, it is a very primitive
thing. Like grief. When someone that close to you dies, you try
to honour them the best way you know how.
Hashimoto brings the ashes of Kodo Fuyuki into the ring, holds them up
before the crowd and throws himself into the exploding barbed wire.
I bet Fuyuki got a kick out of that. The match itself is brief and brutal. It's a powerful eulogy.
I know this was a serious piece of writing, and I smile
typing this line because I know it, but stuff like this is why I love pro
wrestling. At its best, it can make you
feel those emotions. Like an elephant
visiting the bones of its father, or a man grieving a friend.
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| Fuck you, I'm grieving! |
