Yesterday's PAC news completely stunned me, I am still in shock now.
I first saw PAC live in 2007 for Anti-Watershed Wrestling (fucking hell) at the Irish Centre in Birmingham, a super tiny venue, after seeing his incredible breakthrough matches in his 2006 PWG stint. Me and my brother bowed to him during his ring entrance, because we were young and destined to be virgins forever, a destiny we avoided now that we have at least one child each.
He did a flip off the 2nd rope during his entrance, his foot caught the ceiling & it brought down all the Irish flag bunting. The ring and ringisde was littered with tiny Irish flags. He still did a shooting star press & a flippy-doo plancha during the match, he was not put off by that experience at all. He made sure to give the fans everything, which is a key quality that I look for from a wrestler even to this day. I was a huge PAC fan before, and then a mega fan after that.
I saw him live for the same promotion a few months later, and he was great again, and this time I knew he was scheduled to be at PWG that weekend so I wanted to wish him luck (and show off my big brainy smart mark head, please see the previous virgin allegations), and I saw him sneak out in a hoody straight after his match, carrying his bag and through the front door, likely heading straight for the airport. He did a moonsault plancha in that match, in that same low-ceiling building, fucking effortlessly. Looking back, I think that was the last time I caught him in action live.
I still went on to follow him everywhere; the US indies, the trek to Japan, his mainstream run, the return back to the UK, and his excursion to the big leagues again. Every single time he knocked it out of the park and looked fantastic doing it. The name "PAC" would sell me on a show, instantly. There was never a bad day for PAC the wrestler, because even on his personal bad days he still put in a shift to make sure that fans were happy. There's a stacked PWG match on a stacked PWG card from 2009 where he was battling an illness and getting sick under the ring, and you wouldn't know unless you were told the dirty details afterwards. PAC was the opposite to the Kevin Nash's of the wrestling world with their "We've already got their money!" shitarse philosophy. PAC was someone who valued the time, money and personal investment that fans poured in, week in and week out. My kind of professional wrestler, and my kind of human being.
After work yesterday, I headed back home after picking up my son from school. He's five now and he's come to see wrestling on the telly as some sort of threat. "I'll put Dad's Boring Wrestling on!" is a common key phrase for getting him to tidy up or brush his teeth or stop jumping on my ribs. I've not watched any wrestling for the past year, but I had to change that yesterday, I just had to take some time and relish what we had in PAC. You type in "PAC vs..." into YouTube and the first result is always vs Orange Cassidy at AEW Revolution 2020. My son ALWAYS, without fail, loses interest in wrestling within a minute or so, and I thank the sweet lord for that. This one though, was different. He only lost interest a FEW minutes into the match, which is a massive compliment to both PAC and OC. He enjoyed the pockets schtick from OC, and PAC was a clearly defined snarling evil bad guy that he could root against. He swung back in though for the moment that everyone goes back to with this match; OC constantly rolling out of the way of PAC's aerial attack. My son laughed giddly, the same laugh he saves for dopey cartoon prat falls.
Ten minutes later, I'm with the wife doing the pre-dinner prep, and my son stands on the arm of the sofa and falls backwards onto the cushions. "Dad, you've got to jump on me!" he says, and points to the arm of the sofa. I get up and perch and he rolls out of the way, all the way across the living room to the far wall. I make an angry face, climb up on a nearby arm chair, do the universal hand sign for "FLIPPY DOO" and he rolls all the way back to the other side of the room, giggling like a maniac. We now have a new game for the repertoire, one that maybe my son will play with his kids if he decides to have them. How does one man, a wrestler from the non-American parts of England, get to this status without being a cunt? The world is worse for no longer having him, but we can rebound if people pick up on his qualities, both professionally and personally.
Thanks for the memories PAC, you will not be forgotten. You will be celebrated, in ways that you probably never knew.