April 29, 2024

Hardcore Vs. Deathmatch: Take A Side

Abyss explains the difference between the similar styles of wrestling.

Admittedly, Abyss is not a fan of deathmatches.

For anyone who has followed the Impact Wrestling Hall of Famer’s career, that’s a surprising confession. For the better part of 16 years, the 6’8, 350-pound weapon of mass destruction has spilled blood around the globe – sometimes his opponent’s, but mostly his own. A package of his greatest hits would include barbed wire, thumbtacks and any other weapon imaginable.

But “The Monster” claims there is a difference between what he has done – hardcore wrestling – and deathmatches. “Hardcore wrestling involves psychology, athleticism and a story,” Abyss said in a recent Impact Wrestling teleconference. “Deathmatches are gratuitous and a lot of times borderline insane and ridiculous. I don’t think they’re necessarily good for this business. They serve no purpose other than people getting hurt.”

On the surface, “hardcore wrestling” and “deathmatches” appear to be synonyms. They both excuse traditional pro wrestling rules, allowing the action to travel outside the ring and welcoming all kinds of mayhem. But Abyss argues that hardcore wrestling tells a story, while deathmatches are simply violence for the sake of violence.

“I’m not a fan of lightbulbs,” he said. “I think it’s stupid, ridiculous and gratuitous. I don’t want to say embarrassing, but it’s almost embarrassing to see some of the stuff people do. Jumping off the roof of your garage is gratuitous and stupid.”

The importance of telling a story has been instilled in him by perhaps the most famous roof jumper in wrestling history: Mick Foley. With his massive frame, iconic mask and penchant for self-mutilation, Abyss has always been seen as the second coming of Mankind. When the brawlers finally collided in a Monster’s Ball at Bound For Glory 2009, it was a dream match for fans and a passing of the torch between the participants. “That was a bucket list moment for me,” Abyss said. “This was a guy I grew up watching and have mad respect for. To an extent, I’ve patterned large parts of my career after him. The biggest thing I learned from him was to make everything mean something. What’s the purpose of hitting each other with chairs 25 times for no reason?”

Idolizing Foley makes Abyss’ stance even more confusing; after all, Foley carved his own legacy by carving up his skin in wars throughout Japan. In 1995, he defeated Terry Funk in a barbed-wire rope, barbed-wire and C4 board, time-bomb death match to take the crown as King of the Deathmatch.

All those stipulations provide an element of danger, and that’s the story that deathmatches tell. In an interview with Aubrey Sitterson on STRAIGHT SHOOT, Joey Janela explained what deathmatch wrestling provides that no other style of wrestling can. “Deathmatch wrestling has one of the best psychologies in professional wrestling because not only are you using each other’s bodies, but there’s a whole new element of psychology, whether it be barbed wire or some kind of glass or a pit of piranhas,” Janela said. “The object of a deathmatch is to avoid falling in the pit of barbed wire or being thrown into plate of glass. When you finally do, you’re fucked.”

Honing his craft in CZW, Janela gained a deathmatch reputation a couple years ago after his insane bump off a roof went viral. Of course, “The Bad Boy” can’t be limited by labels, as anyone who has seen his work can attest to his versatility, whether it’s going hold for hold with Zack Sabre Jr., family friendly with Penelope Ford at CHIKARA or balls to the wall with Hangman Page at ALL IN.

He just happens to love deathmatches most.

“People like dangerous things. People want to see people get hurt,” Janela said. “People like Jackass for that reason, that they would do stupid stuff to their bodies. There’s an element of danger and craziness and recklessness that something could go completely wrong within a split second that could end them or badly injure them.”

Ultimately, pro wrestling is an art. There are many stories to be told, and many ways to tell them. While Abyss and Janela may disagree on which way is more effective, they most certainly would agree that learning how to tell a story in the ring takes hard work and commitment.

You can’t just go through a table and claim to be hardcore.

“I didn’t pick up a chair until I was six years into this business,” Abyss said. “I tell younger talent who want to do hardcore wrestling what Mick, Sabu and Tommy Dreamer told me: learn how to wrestle first. Learn how to work. You have to respect this business. It’s a tough industry and you need to learn it the right way.”

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