Goywonder

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On his quest to find the curious side of Norwich, Goy Wonder spends an evening with the city’s only wrestling federation.

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It’s half past seven on an August Sunday evening in Great Yarmouth.

All along the town’s Golden Mile holidaymakers walk by, waving cameras, stuffed toys and bags of candy floss.

In the amusement arcades, pimple-faced teens clutch pots of copper coins, as the sounds of karaoke fill the skies.

Meanwhile, amidst it all, twenty-one year old Angus Sinclair lies writhing on a nightclub floor.

As two hundred people watch on, a second man leaps into the air, crashing down onto Angus’s rib cage.

Angus wheezes and snarls, his face twisted in pain. He drapes his arm across his wounded chest.

We – the observers – whoop and cheer. We stamp our feet. We crane our necks for a better view.

This is nothing new: amateur wrestling has been part of Great Yarmouth since the 1960s – well before Angus was born.

These days it’s provided by Norwich-based WAW (World Association of Wrestling), controlled by husband and wife Ricky Knight and Julia Hamer.

WAW has been running since 1993, and currently boasts over 40 wrestlers on its roster.

There’s Judas (6”4 with a slasher-movie beard), ‘Delicious’ Danny Blaze (pinched from a Scissor Sisters video) and – my favourite – the ever-acrobatic Zebra Kid.

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Tonight, we get six matches, each around fifteen minutes long and packed with pulverising action and pantomime charm.

Take the final showdown: a tag-team (two on two) showdown featuring wannabe-rappers London Inc.

With the referee distracted, the boys from the capital break the rules, ganging up on one of their opponents.

As they toss him and back forth like a tethered ball, the crowd roar for the referee to turn around.

By the time he does, the attack is over. The victim is dazed, pinned to the mat by half of London Inc.

Enthralled, we yell along with the referee’s count – “ONE! … TWO! …” – then – WHOOSH – the underdog springs back to life.

Evil has been thwarted once more. We whoop with relief. This is Star Wars all over again.

This is the thrill of live wrestling: the drama; the magic; the pathos.

It is something that Julia Hamer, co-founder of WAW, understands very well.  

Julia, 37, founded the business after meeting her husband, then a wrestler on the cabaret circuit, in the early 90s.

As well as pulling the strings, Julia is a wrestler herself. She also runs Norwich’s only wrestling school.

In the ring she styles herself as Sweet Saraya, a glamorous femme fatale who can grapple with the best of them.

She has four children with Ricky, all of whom are involved with wrestling too.

Julia’s lifestyle has attracted much media interest. She has appeared on Trisha and Jerry Springer, as well as being the subject of several documentaries.

“You wouldn’t believe some of the things that go on in the wrestling world,” she tells me.

“I’ve been involved for nearly twenty years now. But it hasn’t lost its power to surprise me.”

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As we talk Julia is distracted by a hearty roar from the crowd.

In the ring, a wrestler - Brett ‘the Kraft’ Meadows - is clambering on top of the ring post.

He flicks a V-sign to the crowd behind him, and they respond with a barrage of jeers and taunts.

Brett leaps into the air, spreading his limbs in order to crush his opponent.

In a split second, his opponent rolls out of the way, leaving the 16-stone rogue to crash face first into the mat.

“Brett is what we call a heel,” explains Julia. “His role is to agitate the crowd and get them going.”

Other wrestlers are scripted to be more popular. They are the righteous, the underdogs and the charmers.

And they don’t come much more popular than Britani Knight, WAW’s eighteen year old rising star – and eldest daughter of Julia.

Britani is strikingly pretty, with sharp features and longing autumnal eyes.

It’s no surprise that she takes starring role on the WAW poster, advertising their summer season in Great Yarmouth.

Despite this, Britani isn’t on tonight’s bill. Instead, she is charge of checking tickets and selling merchandise.

“I’m on next week instead,” she explains.

“It’s the bank holiday showdown: me versus Sweet Saraya, for the WAW women’s title.”

“Wait,” I say. “You’re wrestling your own mum?”

“Sure,” she says. “We’ve got a long-running rivalry in the ring. It’s one of our biggest storylines.”

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As we discuss the match, Britani becomes animated and passionate.

She’s a girl who clearly loves wrestling. And she’s been born into the right family.

“I always knew my future would be in wrestling,” she exclaims.

“So there is a future for British wrestling then?” I ask.

“Absolutely. Like I always say: wrestling is my future – and I’m the future of wrestling.”

Inside the ring, things are drawing to a close.

Zebra Kid – Britani’s brother – and his partner Stan have finally got the upper hand over the dastardly London Inc.

With his rival dazed and on his knees, Stan sprints towards him, using the leverage of the ropes to deliver a ferocious pirouette kick.

It’s an American move, known as the 619 and popular with fans of televised wrestling.

Stan’s speedy delivery sends the crowd wild. Even his fellow wrestlers – huddled by the bar – offer their applause.

Amongst them, I spot Angus, the young athlete from tonight’s opener.

“I’ve been wrestling for five years now,” he tells me.

As well as a wrestler, Angus is a creative writing graduate from the Norwich University College of Arts.

He is a published poet and keen photographer, having showcased his work across the city.  

It’s an intriguing merger of interests. Nevertheless Angus assures me he isn’t the first writer to fall in love with wrestling.

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“You know George Szirtes – the poet? He’s been a follower of wrestling all his life.

“He’s written poems about wrestling. Now he’s working on a novel about it.”

“So does wrestling inspire your writing?” I ask.

He laughs. “Well it’s definitely something I can’t ignore.”

With tonight’s matches all over, the ring has been handed back to our MC.

Wearing a pencil skirt and fitted blouse, she picks up the microphone and thanks the crowd.

“Don’t forget to come next Monday,” she says.

“We’ve got the final of the Atlantis Cup. And the match you’ve all been waiting for – Britani Knight versus Sweet Saraya.”

“It’s going to be one hell of a show – and I want to see you all there.”

And, you know what, after tonight’s excitement, I might just oblige.

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Goy Wonder, 2009

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