The Shinobigatana / Shinobi Katana is “allegedly” a sword carried by the ninja of Feudal Japan. It is fashioned with the intention to deceive the opponent into thinking that the ninja – or shinobi were caring standard sized katana, or a similar blade. However, the blade length was allegedly much shorter than that of a katana – thus, allowing the swowd-man to execute a faster draw than his opponent. The shorter blade makes the sword much easier to use than the standard katana in tightly confined spaces. Say a small corridor -for example…
Mine is NOT the official Bujinkan one. It’s not made to the exact same sizes and specifications, but I consider it a damn good near match. This bad boy was custom made by an EBay seller (Samurai X) – who was selling hand a forged wakizashi. The seller was offering to customize the sword for no extra cost. You could chose your own color of saya, rayskin, type of hand-guard, and so on… So I asked the seller if he could remove the standard sized handle (tsuka) and add a larger nodachi sized handle. Also I asked if they I could change to a katana sized saya. …and I’m more than satisfied with the result.
If you wish to purchase the official “Cheness Oniyuri Katana” from oriental-weaponry.co.uk this item will cost you the pricey sum of £332.30 / €448.61. …and some of them don’t even have the bo-hi (blood groove)! …Anyone who knows their swords – knows that a blade with a blood-groove is far more effective for stabbing applications. I guess the purple haired punk-rocking pensioner Masaaki Hatsumi must have had a “senior moment” or a “brain fart” when he designed the original model.
If you wish to go for something more affordable (and effective) – I recommend that you visit the eBay link and contact the seller. I found the seller would always reply to my messages within 24 hours. He asked me to “please wait patiently while he assembled the sword”, and I received it in the post in just over one week from the date of purchase. It cost me ONLY £83 in total. This sword is excellent value for money. It looks deadly awesome, and feels great to handle and maneuver.
Martial Arts should be affordable in my opinion.
Please practice responsibly, and enjoy your budo.
During my time in the wrestling business I had plenty of opportunities to work as a masked wrestler.
Working in a mask is something that I really enjoyed. A mask conceals not only your face, it conceals your whole identity and gives you an aura of mystery.
There is one element to maintaining that mystery. You never cut a promo. You never talk on the microphone, and you never grant the media an interview. Silence is the key! One excellent example of maintaining mystery and keeping kayfabe was Kendo Nagasaki. He would drive to a secluded spot near the venues where he used to wrestle, and put his mask on. He would enter and leave the buildings with his mask on, and he would never talk to anybody.
I know that the masked lucha libre wrestlers talk over the microphone and cut the odd promo, and I’m cool with that because it’s their culture. Their style. Even in the USA masked men talk over the mic, cut their promo’s, and shout insults to the fans. I get it – it’s the superhero alter ego thing, and I’m fine with that …but in the old days, here in British pro wrestling masked men never said a single word. It was all about the mystery.
In recent years I’ve noticed dozens of so called masked “professional” wrestlers walk into a building full of fans with their case full of wrestling gear in hand and walk to/ from the dressing room before, during, and after a show …and they can’t be bothered to make the effort to keep the mask on. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist to work out that he/ or she is the masked wrestler. No wonder the job is so screwed these days. If you are one of these individuals – please do yourself and the business a favor – either wise up, or retire and burn your boots, and please close the door on your way out. Thank You!
There were masked men who were blue eyes (baby faces) and some who were villains (heels). Back in the day most masked men were villains. The mystery created suspicion. Think about it. The armed bank robber in the balaclava. The terrorist with the tea-towel over his head. The scrotes who wear scarves and hoodies. They are doing something criminal, and they wear a mask to avoid being identified.
Whenever I wrestled a masked man I would take him to the ground, secure him with a submission or restraining hold, and try to unmask him. If you get the mask pulled up to his mouth the punters would be shouting and cheering me to rip his mask off. If I got it further up to his nose they would be standing up out of their seats screaming. Cheap heat as we used to call it, but it was minimum effort – maximum effect. It’s easy. Simple. You would get massive amounts of heat from the audience without taking a single bump.
Less pumps. Less injuries, and probably the best heat you’d ever get for doing next to nothing. You see, everybody in the building really want to see that mask ripped off someone’s head. They want to see what that person looks like. That’s good psychology.
I always tried to go that extra mile whenever I wrestled in a mask. I would do things like wear a pair of ladies stockings under the mask – just to black the eye holes out. I would visit fancy dress/ costume shops and buy fake pony tails and have them sewn to the inside of the mask. It was all to deceive the punters into thinking that I had long hair. Anything to throw them off the scent. Fake ponytails and stockings – makes me sound like some cross-dressing sexual deviant. Let’s move on…..
I’d never take someone’s mask completely off. I’d lift the veil of secrecy just a little, but I’d never open that veil completely. Tease the audience, and always leave them wanting more. Somehow they managed to scramble to the ropes and the referee would have to break it up. Spoilsport…
Sometimes I could successfully unmask someone, but the victory could be short lived as they could be wearing another mask underneath. Occasionally I would chase them back to the dressing room and run back into the audience with the mask. The idea was that I had ripped their mask off backstage, and I’d come back to the ring to show it to the audience. However, they never got to see who’s face was behind that mask. Maintain the mystery…
Sometimes it’s best to leave the fans in suspense. Then they will happily buy a ticket to the next show just to see that bugger get unmasked. It’s good for business. It’s worked for decades. Generations. If it ain’t broke – don’t fix it!
Both myself and Mike Weaver were wrestling less and less for Max Crabtree. Dave Reece had gone under. I herd a story that Dave’s wrestling ring had been seized by bailiffs for unpaid bills. I don’t know if it was true or not, but all of a sudden Dave was out of the game.
Max was doing well at the time. He was running every night with Davey Boy Smith at the top of the bill. I don’t think Shirley was working at that point. Davey Boy drew money everywhere he went. He was fresh out of the WWF/ WWE. He came back to England to evade a lawsuit. He was being sued for allegedly putting someone in a Grovit and causing them brain damage. By then Max restructured his team, and we weren’t getting as many bookings.
One evening, Mike went to watch the All Star Wrestling at Victoria Hall, in Hanley. I think Klondike Kate (who also lived in Stoke at the time) introduced Mike to Brian Dixon. Brian showed an interest in booking Mike, and Mike put in a good word for me. Mike telephoned me to ask if I’d be interested in working a few jobs. Well, naturally I jumped at the chance. At first I think Brian booked us because of logistics and economics. Klondike Kate was a huge draw, but she couldn’t drive a car. It was easier to try and use either myself or Mike for transport, and if you can book three, or four people to travel together in one car – the petrol expenses are more economical.
It was a fantastic learning experience. I got the chance to work with people who were not working on Max’s team. Experience is the true teacher. Brian had a stronger emphasis on tag team wrestling. He had some great working teams like “The Liverpool Lads”, “Task Force 1” and “The Superflys”. All of them were fucking awesome workers!!!
I remember one day, wrestling for Brian in a tag against The Superflys. It was at a place called “Cornerstones” and I think Brian was paid “bill money” to provide a show there. The only uncomfortable thing was that the place was an institution. A mental asylum. That was a very surreal experience to say the least. The Superflys seemed quite at home there though…
Brian starting to book The Dynamite Kid – Tom Billington. Tommy looked like a shadow of his former self. I’d say he weighed 11 stone when I first met him. It wasn’t long before he beefed back up again. A few weeks later and he was looking awesome! You could see a few tell tale signs of his injuries, but he still had the same work ethic. He did all his knee drops off the top rope, his snap suplex, his dropkick off the top rope, and his his diving/ flying headbutt.
There was a young Japanese worker who was on tour for Brian. I remember Dynamite Kid having fluent conversations with the guy in Japanese. Unfortunately I don’t remember the Japanese workers name. Brian just called him “jaaaaappp”. He had a good physique, a mullet and a bum bag (fanny pack) …but then, who didn’t back then?
It’s a pity Tommy and Davey Boy couldn’t reconcile their differences because that would have been like printing money for any promoter. It would have been awesome for business.
Instead, they went their separate ways. Davey Boy was working with Max Crabtree, and Dynamite was working for Brian Dixon, and both promoters went head to head with each other every night.
It was a fantastic time in my life. Not only had I worked for Max Crabtree for a couple of years, I was now working for Brian Dixon and getting even more opportunities, and I was working at the other end of the spectrum.
Max liked very traditional old school technical wrestling. Brian Dixon had the same appreciation, but he liked the odd big bump and the occasional high spot. Just a few months before starting with Brian – I recorded some lucha libre off a satellite TV station. I showed the old VHS tape to Mike Weaver and we worked out a few short high spots to put in our matches. We were the first guys on the scene to do this. I’m not being big headed but we had something a bit new or unique looking. Also, we had been watching some pro-wrestling from Japan called UWFI Bushido. It was a stiff worked MMA style, but marketed as a legitimate sport. Mike used a lot of big bump power moves on me like the German Suplex.
I’m not bragging about it because it takes two workers to have a good match. It takes two to tango! It was luck more than anything else. We saw something that little bit different and just infused it into the traditional British style. We capitalized on it. We saw the right thing at the right time. OK, honestly? …We stole Mexican and “Japanese” moves – but we did it when nobody else had even seen it. Right time – right place. …and sometimes you just have to be an opportunist and jump on it before no one else does. The important thing was that it got us over that little bit more. Variety is the spice of life.
Nowadays everyone throws a bit of lucha in their matches, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The UK has now become a multi cultural melting pot of different styles. There’s more variety to a match, or a show. I like the idea of adding to our unique scientific technical British style – I just hope that over time we don’t dilute that style, because it’s our heritage. Our culture. Once something is lost – it’s lost. Gone forever, and you’ll never get it back…
One of the best things about working for Brian is the infamous Brian Dixon impersonations that some of the wrestlers do. Robbie Brookside was so good at this, that he could telephone wrestlers and they would be convinced that they were talking to Brian. Now there’s arib for you. …..Eeerrrrrrr fuckin’ ell – as Brian would say.
I had been working for both Max Crabtree and Dave Reece for quite a few months when a few new wrestlers from Birmingham arrived on the scene. They had all been trained by a pro known as Pete Evans. The boys used to call him “gas mask Grimshaw” because he used to stink of body odor, all the time, constantly… These guys were really green, and were a bit clumsy. They just had a tendency to keep catching you in the nose, or in the balls quite often. They looked and worked bloody rotten. They couldn’t wrestle properly, but for some reason they thought they were the best thing since sliced bread. They really brought into their own publicity.
If these these guys were not taking taking liberties – then they were making mistakes that they shouldn’t be making. In pro wrestling we have what’s known as a “receipt”. Payback if want of a better word. You take liberties with me – and I’ll pay you back one way or the other. That’s just the way the business was. Sometimes wrestling can get real, and that’s when it’s the most fun! We were not forgiving, and we didn’t believe in turning the other cheek. If you do this the next you know and everybody will be walking all over you like a doormat. Respect had to be earned and sometimes fought for!
Mike Weaver had given me a little pep talk or two when we were travelling on the road. At this point in time he had that “shooter” reputation. His receipts were legendary. He could end matches and careers very prematurely. Jolly Good! He told me about all these old time legendary shooters like Billy Robinson. According to Mike, when Billy Robinson first went to the USA – he tortured and crucified everybody who he worked with. I know what Mike was trying to do. He was trying to put ideas in my head, and I was all ears. If Mike din’t like someone, he would make their life hard in the ring. He didn’t like this new crew from Birmingham, and I didn’t like them too much either.
Dave Reece only booked them because they were cheap. They were undercutting all the professionals, and that affected our bookings. It backfired for Dave Reece in the end, because they were so crap no self respecting wrestling fan would pay to watch that shite again. Dave’s promotion started to go down the pan, and eventually he had to start booking us again. Some of the Brummy lads were getting booked with us, and that’s when the fun began.
I remember one night, working a tag, and of the Birmingham lads caught me right in the bollocks. So I went to work on him, and he couldn’t wait to tag out quick enough. He didn’t want to tag back in and work with me either. Dave Reece started to have battle royals or royal rumbles on his shows, and we took every opportunity to stiff them around as much as possible. In fact we made it our mission in life. They didn’t have any bottle or gut’s to fight back. They didn’t have the skill level or technique either. They were bloody rotten workers – they deserved it. Good riddance!
A few years later Mike and myself found our-self’s doing a few jobs in Lincolnshire for a wrestler and promoter who called himself Sergeant Sizzler. He would do like a policeman gimmick. Every weekend we would be somewhere like Skegness or Cleethorps working the holiday camps. Some shows would be outdoor, some indoors. The very last weekend of the season Sizzler called me to tell me that show had been cancelled due to adverse weather conditions. I called Mike to let him know, and he wasn’t happy. We heard on the grapevine that the show still went ahead, but with other workers. Sizzler owed Mike £10, and Mike thought he was trying to pull a fast one. Mike swore revenge!
It was several of years later and we back in the Lincolnshire territory, working for a strawb (wrestling talk for retard) called Gerry Norton. Mike was booked to work a match with Sizzler. It didn’t last long. I think it was over in the first or second round. Mike just wouldn’t sell for him at all. Then it happened. Mike head mare’d him over. Back to canvass, and stamped full force on his nose. Sizzlers nose just exploded with claret. It was like someone stamping on a rotten tomato. Sizzler was back on his feet in a a nanosecond. He thew himself over the top rope and ran back to the locker room. He moved as fast as lightning – I swear to God. He grabbed his case with all his clothes and ran to the fire exit. Mike was walking back into the looker room when Sizzler said “There was no need for that Mike.” and then he just ran to his car and tear-arsed it away as fast as he could. I think he called Mike on the phone. Payed him up, apologized, and everything was square again. That was Mike Weaver, he would wait years to pay you back, one way or another. Kind of reminds me of the song by Blondie /Debbie harry…
Most of the bouncers in Stoke-On-Trent and Newcastle-Under-Lyme were afraid of Mike. I’ve been out and about with with him on a number of occasions. Wine, women, and song, …and all of that crap… One year we turned up at Ron Taylor’s Boxing and Wrestling Booth. The wrestlers there were avoiding our challenges. So, we traveled all this way and we we not exactly making any bread – if you get where I’m coming from. something had to change. We had to shift gears. Now, I had done some armature boxing with Sam Donnelly, and I had boxed on the booth previously. So, I did Mike a favor and asked Ron Taylor if we could box each other…
Mike is a good shooter, but he’s done no boxing at all. He had receipts from me in that fight. Afterwards, Mike was calling me all the profanities under the sun. I just reminded him that I had followed his code, about the receipts. For every stiffing that he gave to me (even though it was to toughen me up). For every time he mentioned receipts, repeatedly. It was repetition. Like hypnosis, or a subtle form of brainwashing. Either way he got what he wanted from me. He wasn’t disappointed either. 😀
There was another lad trying to get work on the booth who kept turning up there. A self professed, self taught pro wrestler. Bollocks! I’m not having that. He kept talking about what a tough hard man he was, and it was wearing quite thin. So, we agreed to box each other. The guy was full of shit. He tried to dance around yet he had fuck all cardio, and he soon started to blow up. It was over in the second round. Well, I had to drag it out out and play with him first. 😀
“On the 16th of August, Chris Matthews held his second seminar in Finland, the first one revolving around catch-as-catch-can wrestling. This time he bought with him a British style of martial arts, called Bushi Kempo.
There was a bunch of martial art enthusiasts attending the seminar, much more than in the previous one! Chris showed us a lot of good techniques, some familiar but with different applications. The way he executed and taught them with expertise, was the reason Bushi Kempo was well received. Thanks to Chris for leaving a good impression on Bushi Kempo for us. Everyone was happy with the seminar and cannot wait for a next one! Hopefully we’ll get to see Chris back in Finland again, Cheers!” Henry VanHanen, BSD Budo Taijutsu. Kerava, Finland.
“When I agreed to give Chris’ conditioning workout a shot I knew I was going to feel deep in my core. But still; holy shit was I not ready for that! That workout was easily, without a doubt, the toughest I’ve ever went through in my entire life! Until the halfway of the workout I thought maybe I can pull this off without any help. Aaaand then my strength just disappeared. I couldn’t feel my forearms and I could barely move my fingers. But that – and Chris – wouldn’t let me stop. I realized how much more I can squeeze out of myself with a workout partner. Chris helped me get through the rest of the sets with dignity, and boy do I feel like it payed off! I also realized that I clearly wasn’t working out hard enough. From now on I’ll be applying Chris’ methods in my workout, even though I may not always have a workout partner, and I trust that I’ll be getting a lot stronger that way.” Esa Kemppainen. Helsinki, Finland.
“Chris introduced me to catch-wrestling, in one of his workshops. Before that, I had only seen catch-wrestling through videos, and was keen to learn more about it. I have been training multiple martial arts for almost 30 years and currently teach the Russian martial art Systema in Helsinki, Finland, so I felt that catch-as-catch-can would be a nice addition to enrich my perspectives. Systema and catch, share similar philosophies, meaning that it is needless to fight more than you really have to. Chris’ approach was very intuitive and his ability to teach is perfect right from the get-go. I highly recommend training with him, whether you are fighter in MMA or just want to learn this extremely interesting form of grappling.” Jani Hautamäki. Systema Trainer. Helsinki, Finland.
My doorman’s licence was due to expire, and I wasn’t sure weather I should stay on the door or just go. It was a matter of principal because I was too tight to pay for the licence. It just din’t make sense. Why should I pay out money for another one? I was working the doors to make money – not bloody well spend it. The problem was that I loved door-work. It was a buzz. Exiting. On the flip-side, I didn’t like the person that I was becoming. Even my own parents didn’t recognize me. It was like their son had gone, and now someone – or something else was there instead. I noticed it many a time, when I saw different looking eyes gazing back at me in the reflection of a mirror…
One of the newish lads on the doors, Adam, worked in the day as a security guard. He told me how the company was going to pay for the new SIA security licence for all it’s security staff. He gave me an application form. he put in a good word for me. I got an interview, and got the job. The problem was – I didn’t really want it. I felt like a right w@nker, walking around boot’s chemists dressed as the Big Bossman. I hated that! …but, I didn’t have much choice. I couldn’t go back on the door without my badge – so, I just had to play the waiting game and put up with it for now. The minute I had my certificate and badge – I was gonna sod right off and go back on the doors.
The job was all or nothing. Either quiet and boring, or it could be some heroin addict with HIV or hepatitis, trying to stab you with a dirty used drug needle. Rest assured, I showed those dirty, low life scrotes no quarter. I’m NOT going to lie and say that that it didn’t scare me. It did scare me. There was an element of fear when something like this happened, and being afraid does not make you a coward. It’s a natural survival instinct. Anyone who says they are not afraid in these situations is either telling a blatant lie – or a psychopath. I’d had knives pulled on me while I used to work on the doors, and knives can end your life in an instant, but for some reason the drug needles were even more frightening. Being stabbed with a used drug needle that could infect you with a STD just felt a lot more terrifying.
These drug addicts were the sort of individuals who would push someones grandmother down the stairs, beat her withing an inch of her life, and rob her of her pension money for their next fix. Most of my professional life Iv’e had to deal with a lot of really hard men, but men with some morals. Your old school hard case would never attack a woman. As violent as any of these men could be, they would be gentlemen around women and their elders. With drug addicts there is none of that old school morality. They won’t fight you one on one, and they wont fight unarmed either.
Iv’e been there. Iv’e witnessed drug addicts shaking like a leaf, and breaking out into a sweat because they are so desperate for their next fix. Withdrawal symptoms. They used to come into the store when they were on a methadone program. You see – Boot’s Chemists supply them with methadone. The addicts get it for free, all payed for by good honest, hardworking, law abiding tax payer. This is a substitute for heroin. The idea is that it’s there to get the addict off the heroin. Sound’s like a good thing, right? In reality, the addict is substituting one addictive substance for another one. Methadone is far more addictive than heroin. That’s a fact, and if you don’t believe me – do your own research. Boot’s get payed pure money – like you would’t believe for this. Funding from the government. So, if you want to become a drug dealer and make the big money, without the risk of going to prison – get your arse off to college or university, become a pharmacy student, get a qualification that’s nothing more than a licence to sell drugs.
Another thing that was common, mums taking their teenage daughters to the counter for the “morning after pill” or some other form of contraceptive. I’m talking girls who were 13, 14 years old and so on… It’s bad shit. I just remember thinking to myself at that time, has society come to this? You would think that over time, humans would evolve. Get smarter. Not the case here. Especially with the addicts. They had all the collective intellect of a retarded egg yolk. Some of the store management weren’t much better. Oh, and “PC Police”? …Oh, no. You can’t call them drug addicts. No, no, no! You MUST call them a patient, or else you’re discriminating. …BOLLOCKS! …That’s nowt more than a load of politically correct sugar coated bullshit. If you’re a drug addict – you’re a drug addict.
Needless to say, I didn’t stay in that job. Hated it! Besides the security company were a bunch of liars! They weren’t going to pay for my licence at all. They wanted guards to pay for it themselves. It was blatant lie all along. When the time come that I had no choice but to take the licence – I buggered off and quit. I’d had enough of dealing with the dregs of society and the bureaucrats. I didn’t want to be in that environment anymore. Sod living like that for a game of soldiers. I’ve never looked back.
A conversation with my Mum Me:“If he grasses me up to the police, I will personally cut off his tongue, with my nodachi, and cook it rare to medium, and feed it to the foxes Hannibal Lector style. Mum:“Don’t be so cruel!” Me:“OK, I’ll throw his raw tongue in the River Churnet ,and let the radio active Chernobyl crayfish eat it” Mum:“That’s better…”
On people who spit in public places.
People spitting on the pavement is rude, dirty, and disgusting in my opinion.
My parents raised me and brought me up with morals and manners, they didn’t drag me up.
It’s bad enough when guys do it – but there’s nothing worse than a woman or girl who spits out of a car window. It’s NOT the actions of a classy lady and not the type of female I’d take home to meet my mother.
On the Euro-vision Song Contest.
No. I will NOT watch this years Euro-vision Song Contest. We never win it anyway because all the racist foreign countries always vote against us. In fact I have more important things to do – like drink beer and watch the sunset.
The Summer of 2016.
If you live in the Meir area of Stoke-on-Trent you can see a rare sighting of the planet known as “the sun”. However, this solar event is bringing all the alcoholics and drug addicts outdoors and what appears to be a zombie Apocalypse could be imminent!
Advice on working as doorman.
Don’t try to act the tough guy, and don’t throw your weight around and bully people. Be Nice. Manners cost you nothing – but they go a long way. Iv’e seen so called doormen bully little old men, just so they can look hard and try and impress people. Truth be told, the only people they are impressing is themselves. That old man? He may be someones farther, someones grandfather …and you don’t know who his family and friends are. The next night you may have god knows how many people smashing the club up. There’s a time and place for violence, and don’t worry it will come soon enough. You want as many people as possible to have the perception that you really are a good guy. Then, when it does kick off and you have to go a bit psychotic – you’ll have an abundance of people who’ll say something like “I know Chris, he’s a really nice guy. he wouldn’t do something like that without a blood good reason for it!”. Just be nice.
Here’s a few examples of my custom lightsaber builds.
First and foremost: This is NOT a functional weapon. It’s ONLY a display item. It’s purely built for geeky home decoration.
If you’re a bit of a Star Wars geek – check out how I made my own custom lightsaber hilt with little more than a sink drain assembly, window wipers (these were used in the original Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, and Darth Vader lightsaber movie props), cable ties, a bit of para-cord, an old printed circuit, a couple of old electric wires (recently used in Kylo Ren’s lightsaber hilt), a ton of glue, and few other bits and pieces…..
Example Number One: I call this the “Sith Ninjato Saber”. Completed on Sunday the 22nd of May 2016.
Lightsaber hilts don’t have to be expensive to build. You can build one at quite a low price point. I got my main parts (the sink drain assembly, and the air-soft scope mount) from ebay…
The sink drain assembly that I purchased from ebay.co.uk.
A scope mount with weaver rail that I purchased from ebay.co.uk
Please click on a photo to view larger versions. …and to read my comments regarding the custom builds.
A custom build. Made with a cheap sink drain assembly, cable ties, window wipers, an old printed circuit, an few old wires, a bit of para-cord, a ton of glue, and a few other bits and pieces. #starwars #lightsaber #lightsabers
A custom build. Made with a cheap sink drain assembly, cable ties, window wipers, an old printed circuit, an few old wires, a bit of para-cord, a ton of glue, and a few other bits and pieces. #starwars #lightsaber #lightsabers
I call it the Sith Ninjato, because the pommel can be used to conceal.
…and it can also reveal.
I call it the Sith Ninjato, because the “push down” end cap can be used to conceal.