The Era of Women's Professional Wrestling

I have worked with many people in the pro wrestling industry, but this is my first time speaking with a Keio graduate, so it feels very fresh.

When speaking of the eras of women's pro wrestling, there were three major peaks: the Beauty Pair in the 1970s, the Crush Gals in the 80s, and the inter-promotional war era in the 90s. After that, a "winter era" followed the dissolution of All Japan Women's Pro-Wrestling (Zenjo), but hasn't popularity seen a revival recently?

It is very lively right now. The 2000s, symbolized by the dissolution of Zenjo and Chigusa Nagayo's GAEA JAPAN, was the period with the fewest spectators, but now both the audience and the number of wrestlers are increasing.

I served as a selection committee member for the "Pro Wrestling Awards" hosted by Tokyo Sports from 2007 to 2013. During the so-called winter era of women's wrestling from 2004 to 2008, the Women's Pro Wrestling Grand Prix was often marked as "no eligible winner." However, it began to regain attention when Emi Sakura won the award in 2009.

After that, the new promotion Stardom was launched, and star athletes like Yuzuki Aikawa and Io Shirai (now IYO SKY in WWE) were born.

I debuted in 2007, so I have almost no peers from the same year. There were only four of us: Io Shirai, Mio Shirai, Pinky Mayuka, and myself. But in the 2006 debut class, there were people like Hiroyo Matsumoto, the Jumonji Sisters, and the first-generation trainees of Senjo (Sendai Girls' Pro-Wrestling).

Arisa Nakajima of SEAdLINNNG, who retired last year, and Hanako Nakamori of PURE-J are also from the class of 2006.

Shizuku-san, how did you end up becoming a female pro wrestler?

I was a member of the "Athena Friends" on the pro wrestling broadcast program "Fighting Goddess ATHENA," which aired from 1998 to 2002. Around the same time, Shinobu Kandori was appearing in a segment called "Gachinko Fight Club" on another show, and I was shocked to see her and Rumi Kazama training wrestlers for the new promotion LLPW. Through "ATHENA," I was influenced by the core aspects of women's pro wrestling, watching matches like the Vale Tudo fight between Kandori and Yumiko Hotta, and the steel cage deathmatch of NanaMomo (Nanae Takahashi and Momoe Nakanishi).

That period felt like the death throes of the era of intense, violent wrestling.

That's true. GAEA JAPAN dissolved when I was in my third year of high school, but until then, I had never even watched pro wrestling.

I started wrestling because when I struggled to make friends in high school, I felt that women's pro wrestling would suit my world. Women's wrestling had become an Olympic sport, and athletes like Miyuu Yamamoto, the Icho sisters, Kyoko Hamaguchi, and Saori Yoshida were emerging. I was very surprised to learn there was a world where my physique—which was a complex for me in school life—was actually valued.

What is the "Kirarazuka Kagekidan" that you are doing?

"Kirarazuka" is a fusion of theater and pro wrestling. It started simply because I love the Takarazuka Revue too much, but another reason was that when I was depressed because I couldn't get in the ring due to injury, I thought theater might be a good place to perform in a different form.

Actually, the catalyst for that was a class I took with Professor Masayuki Okahara in the Keio Correspondence Education Program. I participated in a schooling session called "Telling Your Own History," where everyone shared their life stories and then recreated someone's life through theater. Thanks to this class, theater became something familiar to me.

In the era of the Netflix drama "The Queen of Villains," many characters find a way forward in pro wrestling while struggling with poverty or complex family environments, but that isn't necessarily the case today.

In the past, many wrestlers joined immediately after graduating from junior high school, and 25 was considered the retirement age. Now, like Shizuku-san who works as a Buddhist monk, many people are wrestlers while continuing their own activities. Recently, there are increasing cases where people arrive at pro wrestling while aspiring to be idols, comedians, or actresses.

In the era of the Crush Gals, Zenjo was the only women's pro wrestling promotion, so leaving Zenjo meant quitting pro wrestling. Later, promotions like Japan Women's Pro-Wrestling were formed, and a new flow was born.

There are now nearly 20 women's pro wrestling promotions active, including mixed-gender ones. The number of wrestlers is also increasing.

I have served as the president of Sakura Hirota's fan club for about 12 years, and I feel the situation for women's pro wrestling has improved significantly. Around 2011, when I wrote "The Crush Gals of 1985," the industry was still in a slump, and wrestlers were continuing while working part-time jobs. Now, quite a few people make a living as professional wrestlers.

It's still a tough world because there are so many wrestlers and promotions, but that can be said for any industry. I think it's a big deal that women's pro wrestling has become viable as a profession. In recent years, Japanese women wrestlers have been participating in matches for the US promotion AEW, making things even more vibrant.

Japan is probably the only place with this many women's pro wrestling promotions. There are female wrestlers in major promotions in the US, Europe, and Mexico, but I don't think there are women's promotions outside of Japan with such proper techniques and training systems.

Now, many overseas female wrestlers come to Japan aiming for Japanese women's promotions because they want to do pro wrestling here. The American star Mercedes Moné even came to Sendai during her off-season to receive training from Meiko Satomura of Sendai Girls' Pro-Wrestling. The high level of Japanese women's wrestling technique is recognized even by big-name male wrestlers in the world's largest promotion, WWE, such as Triple H.

Television broadcasts of such women's pro wrestling in Japan began around 1975, when Fumiake Mach was active. At that time, TV stations made wrestlers sing songs to gain ratings. Fumiake Mach also debuted as a singer, and for the Beauty Pair, singing was the main focus.

The ones who completely changed that were Chigusa Nagayo and Lioness Asuka of the Crush Gals. Chigusa Nagayo, a natural director, introduced "striking" from men's pro wrestling into Zenjo, using moves like the lariat and the sharpshooter to make women's wrestling more intense.

Nagayo caught the flow of pro wrestling better than anyone. What she called the "Aesthetics of Ruin" involved showing the "beauty of being tormented" by the good guys, known as babyfaces, to the female fans. Fans projected their own struggles of not fitting in with those around them onto Chigusa Nagayo as she writhed in pain and bled. The fan psychology of the Crush Gals was to identify and scream, "That person is suffering just like me."

Ring announcer Atsuo Shiono once said, "Zenjo is a fighting Takarazuka," and the Crush Gals embodied that sense of transformation in women's pro wrestling—where they could sing, dance, and fight.

Jun Todo, who was an otokoyaku (male role player) in the Star Troupe of the Takarazuka Revue, is actually Fumiake Mach's daughter.

Is that so!?

Because of that, Fumiake Mach's name recognition is high among Takarazuka fans in their 20s.

I didn't know that. By the way, is the sense of exhilaration when watching Takarazuka and women's pro wrestling similar?

It's a bit different. Compared to the glamorous Takarazuka, pro wrestling is simple. The biggest difference is probably that no one in the Takarazuka audience gets rowdy.

Takarazuka is a culture with very strict manners.

Are things like chanting not allowed?

Not allowed (laughs). But the Tokyo Takarazuka Theater is different from the Takarazuka headquarters, known as "The Village," and the atmosphere is also different at venues visited during national tours. The fact that regional shows are more relaxed might be similar to pro wrestling.

Tam Nakano, an active wrestler who was previously an idol, said in an interview, "Pro wrestling and being an idol are similar; the only difference is whether your body hurts or not." But actually, that is the biggest difference, isn't it?

That's certainly true.

I once asked an active wrestler who was a former idol, "Why did you ultimately choose pro wrestling after experiencing so many glamorous stages?" Pro wrestling is a job where you are seen from all sides in painful and difficult moments while being tormented by an opponent. She said, "The time when I can't stay pretty is overwhelmingly longer, but pro wrestling is the only place where people cheer for that. That's what's good about it." I thought she was exactly right.

To get a bit technical, in Takarazuka, there is first a "Newcomer Performance" (Shinko), and the first win or loss is determined by whether you can land the lead role there, or what role you are given if you don't. It is said that if you don't get a lead in a Shinko within seven years, you fall off the path to becoming a top star.

As Tam Nakano says, pro wrestling is certainly painful, but there are injuries in Takarazuka too. Kairi Hokusho, whom I love, reportedly continued a performance even after her shoulder popped out during a stage fight. Takarasiennes also experience pain in places unseen. Some even seem to lead harsh lives intentionally for the sake of character building.

Shizuku-san, weren't you scared when you first took a bump in the ring?

It was scary at first, but you just have to get used to it.

It must be scary because there is a risk of cervical spine injury. They don't do very dangerous things lately, but there are tough wrestlers like Manami Toyota who created many scenes that made you think, "This is dangerous!"

In pro wrestling, you are fighting while exposing your life in a sense on a ring where everyone's eyes are focused, so I think that's what moves the hearts of the viewers. While I don't want accidents to happen, the sight of someone fighting with their life and heart laid bare with nothing but their own body gives a special kind of inspiration to those watching.

A pro wrestler is an entertainer, but at the same time, it's a job that exposes one's life to the risk of injury. That tingling sensation of entering the ring while fighting that fear is different from other martial arts or theater.

Mita-san, I imagine you have many opportunities to interact with young female wrestlers. How do you view the athletes?

In the case of female wrestlers, I used to wonder if they had any hesitation about punching or elbowing the colleagues they practice with. This is because I don't think there are many girls who have experience hitting someone with their own hands. When I actually asked, the answers varied from person to person.

A girl who aspired to be an idol said at first, "I thought it was scary." But as she did it, she realized that the fact that her opponent was hitting her with all their might was an expression of their feelings toward her. Since then, she said she wants them to come at her with everything they've got, because then she can go all out too.

When I heard that trust can be woven with an opponent in the ring, I thought that was something special. I'm almost envious of pro wrestlers who can build those kinds of human relationships.

Female wrestlers putting on a match together while experiencing pain could be called a complicit relationship, building a single stage while sharing the pain.

Shizuku-san, do you feel that kind of solidarity in the ring?

It depends on the opponent. Recently, when I invited KONOHA from Kansai for my 18th-anniversary independent show in a tie-up with a police station, she told me, "It was so much fun because you came at me with everything." Apparently, that came across to the audience as well, and KONOHA's coach also said, "It was really good."

These kinds of relationships are easy to build when you are in the same promotion, but as the number of promotions increases, there are more wrestlers you face for the first time, and the matches become a process of feeling things out. In my case, I often face unknown wrestlers from regional promotions, so the chance to meet a wrestler I click with is very precious. It's close to the feeling of finding a best friend.

"The Queen of Villains" also begins with, "This is my—no, our story." The Crush Gals shone because Dump Matsumoto was there, and I think it's really important to find a good rival in the same era. Whether or not you can encounter an opponent to whom you can give your all greatly affects a wrestler's happiness, doesn't it?

That is a huge factor.

It was precisely because Zenjo was the only promotion that the Crush Gals existed and Dump Matsumoto existed. Just as Kuniaki Kobayashi was successful as the "Tiger Hunter" because Tiger Mask existed, Dump Matsumoto built an era because she was on the opposite side of the Crush Gals.

Satomura-san says that when she goes to the US to coach at WWE, she shows footage of Bull Nakano, Manami Toyota, and others to the young wrestlers at NXT and asks, "Why did they move like this here?"

That is also something Satomura-san was taught by Nagayo-san. I heard that as a first-generation GAEA JAPAN trainee, Satomura-san was told a lot by Nagayo-san about how a female pro wrestler should move.

Everyone who watched "The Queen of Villains" was probably surprised and thought, "I can't believe they performed this so well," but Nagayo-san, who provided the wrestling coaching, and the wrestlers from her promotion, Marvelous, reportedly didn't give the actresses acting lessons, but taught them pro wrestling from scratch as if they were raising new trainees. It made sense to me that they were all able to fully become pro wrestlers in the drama because they were taught the physical techniques starting from the logic behind them.

That's right. I think the influence of an excellent director like Chigusa Nagayo is significant.

In the 90s, when inter-promotional matches were being held, TV broadcasts disappeared, and Fuji TV's broadcasts moved to late-night slots. I wonder why popularity has been reignited in the last decade or so.

The increased opportunities to encounter women's pro wrestling must be a big factor. There are people from regional areas who come after watching YouTube, and women who get interested through Instagram.

I have also served as a caster for a specialized channel for over twenty years, but in the past, the only entry points were pro wrestling magazines or terrestrial TV. Once specialized pro wrestling stations were established and promotions eventually had their own streaming channels, matches and press conferences began to be broadcast individually.

It's a benefit of the internet society.

The difference from the 80s is that the people watching women's pro wrestling now are overwhelmingly male fans. That's why I think every promotion is now finding ways to increase female customers. They are trying to attract female fans and increase the number of people who want to join almost simultaneously.

For example, Stardom, a women's pro wrestling promotion in the same Bushiroad group as New Japan Pro-Wrestling (NJPW), sometimes holds exhibition matches at NJPW events. As a result, female NJPW fans say, "These girls are cool too!" and start going to see Stardom matches. I heard that the number of women coming to take Stardom's entrance exam has increased from among them.

Nowadays, there are more opportunities to see it at free events such as shopping malls and festivals.

I also perform in event pro-wrestling.

I hear that people who get interested through free events often go on to pay for tickets to a promotion's shows or start attending wrestling classes run by the organizations. Some people have even become women's pro-wrestlers while just exercising after work. Having an environment where you can "just give it a try" is probably a big factor.

I've only ever watched women's pro-wrestling from the start, so I don't really know anything about men's wrestling.

There used to be specific reasons why women watched women's pro-wrestling. I think it's plenty interesting for women to watch even now, though.

A woman who became a pro-wrestler told me she was moved when a friend invited her to see women's wrestling for the first time; she hadn't realized there were girls of her own generation living life with such total intensity.

My friends who are Takarazuka fans come to see my matches. At venues for certain mixed-gender promotions, you can tell immediately who my customers are because they all come dressed like Takarazuka fans (laughs).

However, I also hear feedback from those same friends saying, "It didn't resonate with me at all." They say that's because the way it's staged reveals the perspective of the male owners and producers.

In other words, they aren't providing what female fans are looking for.

Exactly. It's obvious, but staging that pushes a "gravure idol" vibe doesn't go over well with women. Conversely, matches in women's promotions that sell themselves on strength don't have that feel.

The way things look might change depending on whether the head of the promotion is male or female. I hadn't noticed that before.

It feels like being shown a show from a male perspective.

They say a man's idea of "cute" and a woman's idea of "cute" are different. People say "visual-type" wrestlers are celebrated, but among women, you often hear opinions like, "Is this wrestler really a visual-type?"

What about someone like Giulia (now in WWE NXT), who is at the forefront of the visual-types?

Giulia is very popular with the women around me.

Giulia is cool, isn't she? Yuzuki Aikawa, who went from being a gravure idol to a women's pro-wrestler, initially had many male fans, but she gained more female fans who supported her as they saw her fighting until she was battered and bruised.

Previously, someone who came to see my self-produced show told me, "Pro-wrestlers spend so little time in their costumes that I can't remember their faces afterward." Apparently, once they change into tracksuits after the match, they become indistinguishable.

Since then, I've introduced an ending ceremony—not just an entrance ceremony—in my shows, where we call out the ring names as they leave the ramp so that people can remember their names.

I see. That's a good idea.

In addition to this, I include live commentary as fan service. I learned many things by listening to the commentary of Haruo Shiono and Masaharu Miyake. Having commentary allows us to convey to the audience why a wrestler is in pain.

In the 80s, many people knew exactly what a Sharpshooter (Sasori-gatame) was, but nowadays, there are fewer people who know the techniques to begin with.

Since you can easily look things up on the internet now, there's a joy in digging deeper later. Some venues for event pro-wrestling provide live commentary. But the charm of pro-wrestling is also that it's interesting even if you watch it without knowing what's going on.

Earphone guides might be a good idea. Since everyone has a smartphone now, only those who want to listen can do so.

That's great. Services like the earphone guides used in Kabuki or art museums might be well-suited for pro-wrestling.

The sense of unity in a venue where the audience's cheers resonate is the best part of going to watch, but it was tough during COVID. I imagine it was a harsh situation for the wrestlers as well.

I have a very frustrating memory. In pro-wrestling, there's a rule where you can escape a hold by reaching for the ropes, but the count for these escapes was mistakenly recorded as being higher than it was.

Because the audience couldn't shout, they couldn't point it out, and the match just proceeded indifferently. After the match, the officials claimed I had exceeded the limit for escapes and said my title would be stripped... Of course, the audience had all noticed immediately.

That's the worst-case scenario.

Since Nico Nama (Niconico Live) was broadcasting it, I stood my ground, saying, "There's no way there were three escapes. Please look at the footage." It was a difficult situation because I didn't have a second with me at the time.

Experiencing matches with no audience during the pandemic made me realize how perfected pro-wrestling was with an audience present. I hear some fans drifted away during that time.

On the other hand, being able to watch online seems to have been a big deal.

As streaming became more common, some people seemed to feel it was "easier to watch at home." Though the people who think it's fun to watch and cheer together at the venue are coming back.

But that culture hasn't fully returned, has it? Because I wrote "The Crush Gals of 1985," I get invited to pro-wrestling talk events, but for a while, attendance dropped and I ended up working for no fee. I hear that streaming has more viewers now.

Is that so?

Because people from far away can now watch via streaming, sometimes you can get a higher fee than before even if the venue attendance is low. Bull Nakano is doing "Bull Channel" too, and I feel like I understand why everyone is putting weight on streaming.

The number of overseas fans watching Japanese matches on YouTube and other platforms has increased. New Japan Pro-Wrestling holds a big show at the Tokyo Dome every January 4th, and since various other promotions hold shows to coincide with this, Tokyo is packed with events. A huge number of overseas wrestling fans flock to Tokyo during the New Year holidays.

For some reason, I'm known too, and foreign fans approach me saying, "Are you Mita-san from Samurai TV!" When I ask, "What did you come to see?" they say, "I'm going to watch a Tokyo Joshi Pro-Wrestling match now, and then I'm going to Shinkiba 1st RING." They are all incredibly well-informed (laughs).

The relationship between WWE and New Japan is similar to Disney and Ghibli. Disney and WWE are the mainstream, and New Japan and Ghibli are number two, but these are also the definitive global one-two. Japanese pro-wrestling is more like a subculture compared to WWE.

I see. Overseas wrestlers who come to Japan love Ghibli works, and many even go to the Ghibli Museum. Japanese pro-wrestling has a different kind of appeal than WWE.

When Meiko Satomura recently had a match in Germany, streamers (paper tape) flew through the air during her entrance call. I don't know where the German fans got them, but I thought this move was very subcultural.

Streamers are a Japanese culture. There's a stationery store called Tanaka Shoten in Asakusabashi that has streamers in every possible color. The German fans might have found them there.

I feel like that kind of Japanese culture is sweeping the world on an unprecedented scale right now. Japanese women's wrestlers are popular in America too; Satomura-san has been invited as a coach, and Bull Nakano-san has been inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame.

Quite a few have gone to the US. The fact that "The Queen of Villains" is being streamed on Netflix means it's being watched from overseas as well.

Yes. "The Queen of Villains" aimed for the number one viewership in the world. 2024 was the year that once again showed "women's pro-wrestling" as content that reaches the general public.

In the US, Sukeban is booking Japanese women's wrestlers with Bull Nakano-san as the commissioner. That promotion looks like nothing more than a hobby for the American wealthy, though.

Sukeban is an American promotion where Japanese women's wrestlers appear, and they're certainly spending money on it. They have the wrestlers wear gyaru-style makeup, merging it with Japanese "kawaii" culture. The makeup and costumes are incredibly elaborate, but the nail art is so long that it seems a bit difficult for the wrestlers to compete.

After Chigusa Nagayo's GAEA JAPAN disbanded, Satomura-san was invited by Jinsei Shinzaki of Michinoku Pro-Wrestling to launch Sendai Girls' Pro-Wrestling (Senjo). At that time, Shinzaki-san said he wanted to create a promotion that would be supported by local people, like the Rakuten Eagles or Vegalta Sendai. Later, after Satomura-san became the president of Senjo, she participated in a men's promotion and fought against male wrestlers. When I saw a young male wrestler sitting in seiza (kneeling) while listening to her promo, I asked, "What's up?" and he said Satomura-san was the wrestler he had admired since he was a child.

For him, being from Miyagi Prefecture, Senjo's wrestling was a natural part of the evening sports news, just like baseball or soccer. So, to him, The Great Sasuke of Michinoku Pro and Satomura-san of Senjo are figures as great as Giant Baba or Antonio Inoki.

Knowing that Meiko Satomura is so loved in Miyagi Prefecture as a "star we raised ourselves," I was moved to see that what Jinsei-san was trying to do has truly taken shape.

Satomura-san is truly amazing. For the people of Sendai, the existence of Senjo is far greater than we might imagine.

Satomura-san is excellent as both a wrestler and a coach, and she's the one who deserves credit for making Senjo into entertainment loved by the local community.

After the Great East Japan Earthquake, Jinsei-san stepped back from Senjo, but Satomura-san worked hard to build the promotion from the ground up, even when they had no dojo and few wrestlers, by staying close to the local community. And now she's invited to the UK and Germany, performing Death Valley Bombs on huge wrestlers who must be 190 centimeters tall. Finally, she even received a coaching offer from the world's largest promotion, WWE.

Women's pro-wrestling in the era of "The Queen of Villains" wasn't global standard content. It was the era of television, so to speak; girls all over Japan went wild as they toured the country, but in the end, it was a domestic culture. That's amazing in itself, but pro-wrestling is becoming more and more global now.

Sakura Hirota's fan club also has many overseas followers, and they all come to see her self-produced shows. There are people all over the world who love women's pro-wrestling so much that wrestlers from places like Romania and Argentina come to Japan asking to have matches with Senjo.

What's incredible is that star WWE wrestlers like Sasha Banks (Mercedes Moné) also respect Satomura-san. The era where the US was the pinnacle has already ended, and Japanese women's pro-wrestling is showing a presence like Ghibli. That's the interesting part of women's pro-wrestling today. I think the content is only going to get bigger from here.

I also run self-produced shows, but those aren't exactly activities within the framework of women's pro-wrestling. I invite male wrestlers and people from different industries, and sometimes I incorporate elements of Takarazuka. Recently, I've also been doing public practices called the "Fighting Salon Project."

A salon?

Yes. This project is designed to show the practice to the audience, based on an idea from Kenichiro Arai of Dragon Gate. You could call it a pro-wrestling workshop; for example, we show them how to take a wrist or apply a headlock before the match, and then we have the match based on that.

That's interesting!

I also explain things like how twisting this way hurts, or how this move can be countered. When incorporating theatrical elements from Takarazuka, I demonstrate when to clap or hand out penlights to increase the parts where the audience can participate.

Friends who come to watch also tell me, "This kind of staging is good." All the wrestlers now are so skilled that it's hard to convey the difficulty, so this is a good opportunity to show the audience the fine details.

These demonstrations are also useful in participatory events to learn arrest techniques and self-defense in tie-ups with police stations.

You have a wide range of ideas.

Being able to hold such events is precisely because it's not a big business. At a specialized fraud prevention event held with a police station, about 500 people gathered.

When working in a community, there's a benefit to being able to value each individual connection. A community-based approach also becomes an option for people who "want to try it a little bit."

Shinshu Pro-Wrestling, based in Nagano, started through a tie-up with the local idol group Parallel Dream. The promotion gradually increased its local recognition by having its wrestlers appear in local commercials. While they openly admit to being "make-believe," their participatory activities are popular, such as the "Rubber Band Match" where four audience members hold rubber bands and stand in for the ring corners.

That is a wonderful idea.

Shinshu Pro-Wrestling is very active; in January 2020, just before the pandemic, they held an away match in the plaza of Tokyo Skytree. And that was on January 4th.

So, it was right against New Japan's major show at the Tokyo Dome.

Exactly. After the match, the wrestlers who participated said, "I'm heading to '1.4' now," and went straight to the Tokyo Dome. That's how local promotions and wrestlers turn unique ideas that resonate with people into action.

They put a lot of thought into various gimmicks, but the conclusion they reached after coming full circle is that "fans aren't looking at things that closely" (laughs). It was fun, it was intense, it was big, do your best next time—I think that's really all there is to it.

That's true. It's rewarding enough just to have people see you and say, "Wow, that's funny, strong, big, or fast."

Yes. Just being physically large is enough to surprise the audience. During the match at Tokyo Skytree, the brawl outside the ring even spilled into a nearby police box (laughs). Everyone has a great spirit of hospitality.

However, what I want to tell young wrestlers is that those performers have also put in a tremendous amount of training. I believe wrestlers must never forget that. It's fine to pursue a unique persona, but it's bad if the essential things are neglected.

My daughter used to be a ring announcer for student pro-wrestling because of her boyfriend's influence. Then, she ended up serving as the ring announcer for New Nemuro Pro-Wrestling. I thought I had to make sure she did it properly, so I asked the late Yoshiharu Imai of All Japan Women's Pro-Wrestling and Masatoshi Yamamoto of JWP to provide her with guidance.

New Nemuro Pro-Wrestling is an amateur wrestling promotion started by brothers who run a toy store locally. In 2017, a large costumed character named "Andreza Giant Panda" became a huge hit. That led to them participating in Big Japan Pro-Wrestling shows.

Since it's such a popular promotion, my daughter learned what the job of a ring announcer entails from Mr. Imai and Mr. Yamamoto in a karaoke box. So, my daughter is actually Mr. Imai's last disciple.

Andreza is truly huge. They say he's three meters tall. And he's cute, too.

We live in an era where an amateur wrestling promotion from Nemuro can suddenly be featured in "Weekly Pro-Wrestling" just by creating a giant costume. Within that, content from 1985, like "The Queen of Villains," can suddenly be re-evaluated. I think it's great that there's such a free atmosphere surrounding pro-wrestling as a whole right now.

All Japan Pro-Wrestling often includes exhibition matches with Shinshu Pro-Wrestling. This is because a Chinese restaurant in Matsumoto supports All Japan.

Nowadays, whether it's New Japan or All Japan, when large promotions hold shows in regional areas, local promotions sometimes cooperate to put on exhibition matches.

I see that's how it's become recently. The boundary between amateur and professional has almost disappeared, but when you see the wrestlers in person, you think, "Real pro-wrestlers are amazing after all!"

Women's pro-wrestling doesn't necessarily attract attention through physical size, so it becomes important how they polish their individuality and technique. Unlike men's pro-wrestling where they might be 180 cm and 100 kg, I think the fact that women are doing it is what makes it special.

That's true.

But when I got an autograph from Momoe Nakanishi, the hand I shook was so thick that I thought, "This person isn't human!" (laughs). A pro-wrestler is someone whose greatness can be felt through a single handshake.

When I shook hands with Hirota, I felt she was quite delicate, so I suppose it depends on the person. If pro-wrestling differs from Takarazuka, it's that the wrestlers appear as their own roles. In theater, actors don't show their true selves on stage.

I once wrote that pro-wrestlers wear masks and play characters, but those masks are translucent. While the person there isn't 100% themselves, whether they are a heel or a babyface, their true self inevitably comes out. The interesting thing about pro-wrestling is that it's boring if that self doesn't show through.

I remember something TAJIRI said at the end of a SMASH match I was invited to. He said, "If you want to see high-precision wrestling, you might as well let robots do it." He argued that "because humans do pro-wrestling, their lives are reflected in it." I've never forgotten those words.

Those are good words.

That's because you can put all your joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure into pro-wrestling.

Exactly.

There was a female wrestler who said there is no job other than pro-wrestling where you can sublimate hatred. Wrestlers pour all their joy, anger, and hatred into their bodies and throw themselves at their opponents. The audience can entrust their own frustrations and hardships to the wrestlers in the ring. Pro-wrestling is truly profound in how both the performers and the viewers can put their entire lives into it.