Listen, I sat through “PV Uprising 149” so you wouldn’t have to. I watched from start to finish, and quite frankly, I need a stiff drink and a tape of a 1984 NWA card just to cleanse my palate. Project Violence? More like Project “How Many Times Can We Drop Each Other on Our Heads Before Someone Actually Gets Hurt?”

Back in my day, we didn’t need a trampoline and a prayer to get a reaction. We had heat. We had psychology. We had guys who knew how to throw a punch that didn’t look like they were swatting at a fly. What I witnessed in Atlantic City was exactly what’s wrong with the business today: everyone wants to do a stunt, but nobody wants to actually wrestle.

The Review: A Parade of “Look at Me!”

The show started with The Legion vs. Rebel Society, and within thirty seconds, I was already checking my watch. They’re running around doing “lightning-fast” double-team suplexes and moonsaults like they’re in a gymnastics class. Newsflash: wrestling is not a circus. It’s a fight! Then, of course, the manager gets involved—because apparently, these guys can’t win a match without someone yanking a boot or distracting the referee. If you need the ref to be “out of position” for your finish to work, your finish is garbage.

Then we had Dutch Ramirez and The Juggernaut Boyd Jackson. Finally, some guys who looked like they wanted to hurt each other! They were brawling in the crowd, throwing chairs, slugging it out—this is what I’m talking about! But what’s the finish? A double count-out. Of course. In the modern era, if you can’t think of a way to finish a match, you just have them walk out of the building. Absolute cowardice from the bookers.

Then Teddy Rush vs. Scott Washington. Washington is a big guy, he’s got a look—use him! Don’t have him fumble around like a cartoon villain looking for a foreign object in his boot. And Teddy Rush? He hits a “shooting star press” to win. A shooting star press! When I was coming up, if you tried that, you’d have been slapped into next week by the veterans in the back for being a show-off.

Finally, the main event: Caleb Knox vs. Rick Reid. Knox cut a promo about “wreckage” and “scar tissue.” It sounded like he’d been spending too much time reading edgy poetry online. It’s a wrestling match, kid, not an audition for a straight-to-DVD action flick. Just go out there and hook the leg!

The Good vs. The Trash

• The Good: The brawl between Ramirez and Jackson. For five glorious minutes, I actually believed these two men hated each other. That’s called kayfabe, look it up.
• The Trash: 1.  The “Spots”: If I never see another choreographed sequence of tags and flips, it’ll be too soon. It’s not “painting a masterpiece,” it’s a coordinated dance routine.2.  The Finishes: A double count-out? Really? That’s not a finish, that’s an exit strategy for lazy booking.3.  The Promos: Less talking about “destiny” and “tactical manuals,” more talking about how you’re going to break the other guy’s jaw.

The Verdict: 2/10

This show had the energy of a sugar-rushed teenager in a bounce house. If you like “high-flying action” and don’t care about logic, consistency, or the sanctity of the squared circle, you’ll love it. If you actually like professional wrestling, go watch something from the 80s and leave this nonsense to the marks.

Chip “The Colonel” Halloway

SanctionedViolence.com