Oh, hello. Care for a snack?
Let me preface with this; I know practically nothing about American pro-wrestling. All I gleaned as a kid was something about Hulkamania and that the Rock was cooking something, though what it was I would surely never smell (ahem, I'm an anosmiac- my sniffer is broken)... but like any red-blooded young lass given the opportunity to spend an evening with lady friends drinking and ogling a gaggle of beefy sweaty young men grappling with each other I was game! Luckily for me, my friend Yuka is a big fan of DDT. I don't know about regular pro-wrestling, but these guys were an absolute blast…sometimes even literally (I'll explain later…)
DDT stands for Dramatic Dream Team. Whether it's because (some) of the guys are dreamy or because they are one very dramatic bunch the name is appropriate.
It's an art form, really.
The boys do not take themselves too seriously which was a major factor of my enjoyment in the extravaganza. Whether they're dry humping each other in the ring, thrusting a sweaty pair of manties (man + panties = manties) into one another's faces, running away screaming ”にげる！！！” (RUN!) or accusing their fellow wrestlers of having more profound affections for their fellow wrestlers (smooch smooch baby), the mayhem never abated for long. 
There was even a volleyball game between matches. This was after the heated accusations of kissing other wrestlers in the changing rooms went flying.
There's even some foreign wrestlers getting in on the DDT action.
There's definitely a distinctly Japanese flavor to the proceedings.
Between matches the boys go around selling canned cocktails or snacks to help fund the show. Tickets are extremely reasonable when purchased in advance (and even at the door). This is something I definitely would NOT expect to ever encounter in an American wrestling match…such humility, work ethic and team effort just doesn't seem like it would have it's place between the jeering and machismo. I don't know about you, but I certainly can't envision Hulk Hogan climbing out of the ring after a match and peddling peanuts to his fans…but what do I know? I could have the guy all wrong! But I kind of doubt it.
During the off season, many of the boys have restaurants or businesses of their own where they capitalize on their wrestling fan-base while utilizing other skills to stay afloat. Right on, fellas!
I would trust their tastes in omnomnommables.
And let it be said, at a Japanese wrestling event you are net left to sadly nibble away at some stale peanuts…oh no no no, baby. This is Japan we're talking about, after all!
Take, for example, pickles on a stick and yakitori.
Made by wrestlers.
To eat while watching more wrestlers.
A feast for the eyes, too.
As girls cannot survive on eye candy and nibbles alone, we ventured out for lunch prior to the event on both days. We stopped at a shopping center restaurant on day 1, which was where I had the potato salada pictured to the left followed by the panini inspired prosciutto sandwich & curly fries to the right.
The view from our restaurant. きれいいな〜
Day 2 was nagasaki champon from a popular noodle chain that specializes in champon.
Champon is a noodle soup dish like ramen that utilizes different noodles topped with a hearty portion of veggies and seafood. Absolutely delicious, guys.
About those blasts that I'd mentioned? Right. So, I got exceptionally lucky and the first day that we went happened to be the day that the unlucky losers were forced to clench a small rocket between their butt cheeks, which was then lit and allowed to run it's course.
I wasn't allowed to take photos because it's a very special secret event, evidently. But trust me, it happened. This guy tea-bagging someone is nearly as awesome, I guess.
A photo my friend made for me to commemorate that night~
ありがとうゆかちゃん！
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