My path to becoming a pro wrestler in Japan - My Debut (Part 6)
(WNC year 2 part 2)
(This story takes place entirely in the year 2013 unless written otherwise)
NOTE from me: I had to update the end of Part 4, to reflect the real change in WNC ownership. I had mentioned that Reina took over as owner but it was Junko Oil. I had my timeline confused.
I had gotten the call from Tajiri in mid-February of 2013, that I would be debuting at WNC’s next show on February 28th. The arena would be Shinjuku Face, the venue where I first went to visit Akira and find out if it were possible to join SMASH. As you would have read by now, SMASH closed their doors and Tajiri started Wrestling New Classic (WNC) thanks to a famous line fed to Dave “Fit” Finlay, that Tajiri should “keep wrestling classic”.
I now had two weeks to prepare. That of course meant going to the gym twice a day, hitting the emails hard to start selling tickets, and of course trying to find out who my opponent would be. When you debut in any company, there is an important wave that both you and the company must ride to capitalize on the interest in the new guy. Tajiri knew that of course, and he pushed me as this shoot fighting UWF style guy, but he also had another plan in mind for me.
I was going to debut under my real name of Rionne McAvoy, but Tajiri had told me that McAvoy was too hard for Japanese fans to say. He liked my first name though, an Irish name pronounced Rye Own. I’ve had to explain this since I could first learn to speak, but it’s not Ronnie, it’s not Ree On, and it’s definitely not Re-owny. As an English teacher from Canada that I used to work with long ago once put it, just tell everyone it’s Tyrone with an R. Thanks for that Dean, I still use that today. The Japanese have been calling me Lion ever since I stepped foot in the country over 20 years ago, and it stuck. I was Lion McAvoy, but not for much longer.
Tajiri wanted me to be this loud mouth, know all wannabe gaijin, kind of character, which is (and I am not blowing my own smoke here) the total opposite of who I am really. Everyone who knows wrestling knows that the most successful wrestlers are the ones who are an extension of their real selves. But who was I to argue with Tajiri? He had also already given me a name, and after my match I was to get on the microphone and declare myself as Yankee Rionne. In the footage of the match at the end of this post, you hear me get on the microphone and declare in fluent Japanese the new name.
Are you confused? I was.
Yankee? But I am not American? I said to Tajiri. Not to hate on my American brothers and sisters, but in general, Americans can be known to be loud mouthed at times, so maybe he was just having a rib at me.
“In Japanese, a yankee is a loud mouth hooligan, it has nothing to do with being an American”.
And that was that. I was going to be a Yankee whether I liked it or not. If you remember back to Angelico/Adam Angel, it was obvious that I had zero pull in terms of what I could and could not bargain with, unlike Adam, who did not want to be called Backpacker Joe.
With the date set, I began selling tickets hard. I sold 43 tickets that night, more than the guy whose place I took had sold in his last two shows combined apparently. That was important for Tajiri, and it became a theme for the rest of my time in the company. I would constantly be the top ticket seller, only sometimes being challenged by Koharu Hinata, the 4’10 ex-porn star turned wrestler. It was nothing to do with me being a big star, but more to do with my persistence in bulk emailing everyone and anyone I came into contact with. If I knew you, or I just met you, you could guarantee I would be cold emailing you constantly, to the point where I lost a few friends. It was a simple task of just copying and pasting, and then changing the first name in the opening line. These days we have messaging apps and you just forward the message on, which is much simpler. Some people started speaking behind my back, the ones that were left behind in the English teaching business, as I blazed my way into a new career. The idea was that I only cared about selling tickets now. This is not entirely true, but also partly true because the pressure to do so was quite a lot.
We were a small indie company, only just being propped up by Junko Oil, a cooking oil company run by a woman named Junko who had ZERO interest in wrestling. Junko had become the new owner after buying the company from Kana’s sponsor, the real estate rich guy’s son, who lost in some estimates around $200,000 in his first and only year as the president of a wrestling company. I found out later on that Junko Oil was itself being propped up by a guy that Akira had met a year earlier. Let’s called him Mr. Y.
To digress a bit from the debut story, I will tell you an interesting story about Mr. Y. He was our real owner, but on paper it was Junko Oil. Nobody in WNC knew Mr. Y, except for Akira and Tajiri, and maybe Shinose (Mr. 37), who basically ran the WNC office by himself. As far as we wrestlers were all concerned, we were owned by the very lovely looking older woman named Junko.
By complete coincidence, I answered a job advertisement on Facebook for a company involved in finance. They were looking for an English-Japanese speaking simultaneous interpreter and I needed the extra money. A simultaneous interpreter is basically someone who can interpret on the spot, without taking notes. As soon as the English is spoken, the Japanese wanted to know what was being said, and vice versa. It is an incredibly difficult job for a non-native Japanese speaker and I pride myself in being able to do such a job. When I was called in for the “interview”, I was given an address. Wait, what? This address looks very familiar! I thought.
When I put the address into google maps as I exited Roppongi Icchome train station, I was amazed to find out that the office was right next door to the WNC office. The address not only looked familiar, it was identical, and not only was it in the same building as WNC, it was on the same floor! Each floor had two offices, and our 6th floor WNC/Junko Oil office was also Mr. Y’s office. I think he owned both.
I walked into the office and sat down. I was greeted by someone else, let’s call him Mr. W. Instead of meeting Mr. Y (who I still didn’t know was the WNC owner at this time, thinking it was Junko), Mr. W greeted me. He told me that I would be dealing with him now. We sat in his office as he smoked heavily and after a few minutes of chit chat, absolutely nothing to do with the job itself, he pulled out an envelope full of cash from his jacket and slid it across the table.
“Here is 200,000 yen ($2000). I want you to go to Kyushu and interpret for some Singaporean business acquaintances of mine”.
To cut a long story short, Mr Y owned everything. Mr. W was his right hand man for this one company, and Junko was the boss of another one (Junko Oil). In total, Mr. Y owned 9 companies. If you count WNC being a company inside of Junko Oil, that is 10. How many companies did he own inside of other companies? I’ll never know. WNC was basically owned by members of the yakuza, through various different layers, for 8 months. None of us, including Akira himself, knew this of course. I only found out by sheer coincidence having attended this interview, and after becoming very close to Mr. W. It was a side hustle that I would hold for 5 years, providing some help financially as I struggled in the poorly paid world of Japanese professional wrestling. I never did anything illegal, as this is how the modern day yakuza operate. Japan’s organized crime often works hand-in-glove with the pedigreed elite and other “yakuza-minded” businessmen and individuals, including lawyers, accountants, and men in finance. These kyoseisha – cooperative entities – are not exactly yakuza themselves, but are willing to assist.
The mob being involved in combat sports is nothing new. In fact, Japan’s professional wrestling industry was completely run by the yakuza until only 20-25 some years ago. They moved onto MMA and kickboxing after that. Rikidozan, the godfather of professional wrestling in Japan, had very strong mob connections, and was himself stabbed by a yakuza. He died in hospital because he drank a coca cola against the doctors orders. True story.
After the interview and my new found and unexpected cash supply, I was so sure I was going to keep my mouth shut on the matter, but spilled the beans to Tajiri just 2 hours later when I saw him in the WNC office. He didn’t tell anyone, and we were the only two who ever knew about this until now. Poor Akira probably still doesn’t know, but now you do.
Getting back to my debut match, and me being the top ticket seller was not always every time. Tajiri also sold a lot of tickets, and there were times when he outsold me, but in general I was head and shoulders above the rest. To give a comparison, guys like Ikemen, Doi, and Kodama, would maybe sell 10 tickets between them. They didn’t care, and they didn’t need to. They were talented and WNC and Tajiri needed them. The girls such as Lin Byron, Syuri, and Makoto did well, but no more than 10-15 each. I know this because we would get group emails at the end of each week, updating us on who had sold how many. It became a bit of a competition, which I almost always won clearly. Tajiri even told me that most months I was responsible for helping to pay most of his salary, along with Koharu.
If I am being honest, being the top ticket seller helped keep me on the cards the first 6 months. Up until my debut, I had not been “wised” up to the business. Nobody taught me how to a have professional wrestling match at all. I was only taught a few high spots (choreographed patterns) here and there, and the rest was legitimate submission wrestling. I first had to learn how to really shoot wrestle, and only then was I taught how to not hurt someone. In truth, I was learning the Japanese way. Learn how to fuck them up, and then learn how to not fuck them up, but making it look like you are.
Before I continue about my debut, I want to stop here and talk about breaking the 4th wall and giving the fans an inside peak. I absolutely do believe that the internet has ruined professional wrestling, and that the fans know too much these days. Kayfabe? There is more kayfabe in the UFC than there is in professional wrestling. I of course prefer not to talk about how to “learn how to fuck them up, and then learn how to not fuck them up, but making it look like you are”, but let’s be honest, the game over. The internet knows too much, and the wrestlers have responded by simply giving up on trying to keep the aura of a professional wrestler protected. Evidence of this is all over twitter when people upload post match photos of them hugging their opponent backstage. Plus, pro wrestling today looks anything but a real fight. Billy Robinson would not be happy. RIP legend.
Want to do 1000 super kicks a match? Sure, make sure the leg slap is louder each time.
Can we kick out of each other’s finishers at the beginning of a match? Hell yes!
Not for me. I am old school, and that is why I have been somewhat left behind. I prefer to wrestle, work on attacking a body part, whilst trying to get either a submission or a pin fall. It’s not rocket science and the formula is simple, but hats off to the amazing athletes who can do what they do today. Tajiri and Akira’s approval was always more important to me than star ratings and twitter posts anyway. Again, take some time to watch the Akira vs. Angelico match I posted earlier, just brilliant. I always was taught that you can work highflying moves in if you placed them at the right time, and the fans will remember them even more if you keep them to a few impactful highflying moves.
Actually, it was Akira who told me about going to a movie and watching 90 minutes of nothing but fight scenes. You can watch the movie once, maybe twice, but you probably won’t go back again and keep watching it because it wouldn’t be a classic. The fast and furious franchise comes to mind, whereas I always prefer to watch Michael Mann’s Heat. Send the crowd home thinking “how awesome was that 450 for the win!” rather than “he hit three 450’s (someone else’s finisher), 3 suicide dives” etc.
Although Tajiri became my mentor after I debuted, I was raised by Akira, the old school New Japan Pro Wrestling legend who was trained by the legends of the business. I learned to run the ropes the “New Japan way”, which is basically the Antonio Inoki way of leaning in on one side. It’s not taught that way anymore. Also, learning from Akira was why I wasn’t wised up to the business. Akira’s training sessions consisted of a hardcore cardio workout, followed by mat submission wrestling. If at some point, I could get a headlock on someone, only then could we go into our high spot pattern, which in general was just a shoulder tackle and a body slam. Everything was to be kept simple, and anything you wanted to try in a match, you practiced by yourself after training. When I eventually open a wrestling school on the Gold Coast in Australia, I will teach it this way. I will also teach my students CACC, catch as catch can wrestling, where professional wrestling’s roots lie.
Leading up to my debut, Tajiri came down to the next few training sessions to supervise my preparations. He asked me what I was good at, and told me how to work some of those things into the match. I had to get from point A to point B in 10 minutes, and he guided me through it. Remember, I did not know how to have a professional wrestling match, so after Tajiri’s instructions, I had a long list of handwritten notes.
My opponent was to be the much maligned Horaguchi, who you may remember as the guy who debuted, got benched because he wasn’t good enough, only to re-debut again just before me. The entire roster was in attendance for training, and we had two practice matches.
They were DAUNTING.
I had to now put everything I had learnt so far together, and do it in front of my seniors and peers. Nonetheless, we did the practice matches, my fellow wrestlers cheered Horaguchi and I on like the fans would, and we did ok. Tajiri would stop the match in places sometimes and tell me to howl like a wolf, wanting me to place my hands up to my mouth as I did, as if calling to other wolves. I don’t know why he wanted this, but if you see my debut match you can see me doing it. It was the start of the Yankee gimmick but it didn’t last too long because I kept forgetting to do it in matches.
Oh and, the day before my debut, I was in training and Lin Byron asked me what costume I would be wearing.
FUCK.
I had completely forgotten to make a costume. She laughed and got on the phone and made a few calls, and we had a pair of black trunks made up overnight for me. I had the kanji 雷音 sewed on the back. This was my first name in Japanese, given to me by an English student of mine back in 2002. It meant “the sound of thunder” in Japanese and I thought it was cool. The tradition in Japan is for all young boys to wear black trunks their first two years (and their wrestling moves limited to a Boston crab and a dropkick) and I wanted nothing more than to be a part of that tradition. It was a badge of honor, I had come up in the Japanese system and I deserved to wear the black trunks. If it weren’t for Lin Byron, I would have gone to the arena with no costume, which is a real and reoccurring nightmare that all professional wrestlers have had. Your music hits and you are naked, you’ve forgotten your costume.
Lin Byron would later pass away in 2018 from a brain tumor. There were reports that it got her so badly, she would walk the streets in her pajamas completely zoned out, not even knowing what she was doing or where she was. I miss Sayaka a lot, her real name. She was always very kind to me, but was known by the senior wrestlers as “the botch queen”. She used to drive poor Pantera crazy as they were often in mixed tag matches together. Tajiri and her had a thing on the side too, which started when she was Ray, a masked character. He didn’t like the gimmick and told her to take off the mask, and that is how Lin Byron, from Hong Kong, was born. I asked her on my first day of training where she was from in Hong Kong, and everyone laughed. If you look at her Pro Wrestling Wiki page (https://prowrestling.fandom.com/wiki/Lin_Byron), it says she is Chinese. Sayaka was very much Japanese, but she kayfabed everyone well. RIP Lin/Ray.
With preparations now set, the day of February 28th had arrived. I had spent months trying to decide on an entrance theme, even having a poll on my Facebook. In the end I chose a song that nobody knew, and I still use it today.
My new trunks were delivered to Shinjuku Face (thank god they fit!) and I was set to go. Horaguchi and I stayed away from each other until the match, I always got the feeling that he didn’t like me and that he thought I was taking his place. I didn’t care at all.
The butterflies in my stomach were probably doing cartwheels because I was incredibly nervous. My best friends were all in the crowd, I could hear them because they were the loudest. They were sinking beers, having a good time, and were ready to cheer their boy on.
Then the arena lights went out. The show was starting. My dream was about to become a reality.
I was on second, which means straight after the opening match, which is always very short. I knew I had 5 minutes to go, because most opening matches only last long. This particular opening match went for almost 7 minutes, but it felt like an hour.
Then it was time.
I remember standing behind the black curtain waiting to go out and looking at the floor. This was the exact spot I had stood just 13 months earlier when a green mist mouthed Tajiri greeted me. Everything from that moment of first meeting Tajiri until now flashed before my eyes, just like in the movies. I often wonder if this is what happens the moment you realize you are going to die?
My music hits and I walk out. I had done it. A lifetime of hope, and 10 months of blood, sweat, and tears had finally paid off. The thousands and thousands of hindu squats, hindu pushups, marathon running, wrestling training were all worth it as I took my first steps outside the curtain, with In the City blaring over the speakers.
I had injured my lower back badly only 5 months earlier (an injury I still have today) doing one of Akira’s crazy cardio workouts with the deck of cards (the number was double for each card) but I couldn’t feel a thing. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and the match went off without a hitch. I tapped Horaguchi out with the “Lion Clutch”, which was a rip off from CM Punk who did the Koji Clutch. Punk had also ripped it off from the Japanese wrestler Koji Kanemoto. Talk about coming full circle. Most of my early stuff in the ring was a direct copy of what CM Punk was doing in WWE at the time too. Punk is well known for copying Japanese wrestlers, including stealing Kenta’s Go To Sleep finisher, and not even bothering to rename it. Not that there is nothing wrong with that, we all do it. Kenta is still holding out hope for a big payday and a match with Punk, with the storyline centered on the stealing of the GTS. He’s trying, but for now AEW aren’t biting.
Tajiri told me after my match, “well done, you smashed a home run”.
And that was that. The show was over, I was now a professional wrestler! Nothing had really changed, except my Facebook. The next day I immediately added new pictures, changed my profile picture and top image, and let everyone know what had happened. Why not? I had worked hard enough I thought.
But the truth is, the hard work was only just beginning.
Please read the next chapter in the series to find out how I became Fujiwara, the only foreign wrestler in the history of Japanese professional wrestling to be christened with a Japanese name, in a Japanese ring, by a Japanese legend. It is a tale that you just won’t believe is true.