Copper and Cerulean Blue: NJPW Royal Quest

Ever since I saw Strong Style Evolved last year in Milton Keynes, I’ve been itching to attend a fully-fledged New Japan show, and thank the wrestling gods above, I was able to do just that. Those lovely folks at NJPW announced way back at WrestleKingdom in January that they were coming here, so months of excitement went into this night, building and building as tickets arrived and matches were announced, and I can’t say that I was disappointed at all. It was bigger in every way compared to last year’s joint effort with Revolution Pro, a true testament to New Japan’s standalone power as a draw overseas and a mark of success that is sure to expand from here on out. 

After a long morning of travel, passing through herds of rowdy West Ham fans on their way to the game as we came into the Olympic Park, I soon discovered why the arena for Royal Quest was called the Copper Box. It really is just a massive dull brown cube with some doors on the front - makes you think what came first, the name or the design? Either way, it didn’t matter much, because once we got inside, the whole set-up was just a beauty to look at. There didn’t seem to be a bad seat in the whole place, the arena having been home to volleyball and other court events during the 2012 games, and suited a New Japan show perfectly. I always say that the first thing you take note of when you walk into a wrestling show is the ring, and just seeing the cerulean blue mat emblazoned with the Lion Mark logo made me unbelievably giddy.

I might as well get it out of the way now - the merch stand was the worst I’ve ever experienced. Apparently we felt like showing our Japanese visitors that we didn’t want to conform to our ‘British are good at queueing’ stereotypes, and went for something resembling a mob that could only be satiated with t-shirts. I must admit that the poor lads behind the tables were doing their best with the poor organisation handed to them, and the card readers that struggled to connect to the internet without being held like baby Simba up to the ceiling. But, you go for the show, the merch is just extra, so I wasn’t massively fussed by the waiting, moreso by the impatient people surrounding me and the tables. I don’t want to go into too much detail and bring a heap of negativity to this article, so I’ll just characterise them briefly into a grumpy grown man unironically calling his young daughter a mark for being excited for Sasha Banks’ return on RAW. Take from that what you will, then imagine it for over half an hour. 

In the end, none of that really mattered, because once the cameras went live and the opening video played over the big screen, the whole place came alive like no other show I’ve been to. Typically when I watch NJPW, I tend to skip past the opening few tag matches, seeing as they’re usually inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. But being there in person is a different beast entirely. Top to bottom, there wasn’t a match on the card I wasn’t jazzed to see play out. We were six thousand strong in the Copper Box, and we sounded like it from start to end. Despite the main draw of Royal Quest being the four title matches at the upper end of the card, New Japan didn’t scrimp at all underneath. We got superstars in the likes of Kota Ibushi and Tetsuya Naito performing their signature acts, much to our delight, and I certainly wasn’t expecting the junior tag team match to be as amazing as it was. Clocking in at just over ten minutes, the team of Will Ospreay and Robbie Eagles took on Bullet Club reps El Phantasmo and Taiji Ishimori (whose abs are still phenomenal in person, even sat further away than last time). These lads put on some of the highest energy sequences I’ve ever witnessed live, with flips aplenty. I came out of this liking Phantasmo and Eagles a lot more, and more excited for the rematch announced for their return to Japan. 

In the midst of this stacked card, there was one bout that particularly revved my levels of hype as it grew closer and closer. After meeting the man in Milton Keynes, and becoming my best friend in the process, Tomohiro Ishii is my number one wrestling boy. Here he was, defending his NEVER Openweight title, a belt he has held longer and for more times than anybody else, against the man known simply as KENTA. It was set to be an absolute slugfest between two of Japan’s premier strikers, and it was all going so well until KENTA concussed himself halfway through. It was hard to pinpoint it live, but from what I’ve seen online since, it appears he managed to smack his head on the mat while giving Ishii a German suplex. Inevitably, the match suffered from it, and the whole discussion of concussion protocol isn’t something I want to delve into here. But, through it all, they kept me cheering and booing like a kid half my age. Ishii fought valiantly, even after the Guerrillas of Destiny came for the interference, the bastards betraying me after I cheered for them in their own title defence just one match prior. KENTA hit the Go 2 Sleep, and me and my brother sat there disheartened while the groups around us rose to their feet and cheered. It was the first title change I’ve ever been in live attendance for, and I was hoping I’d be on the opposite side of the result when that day arrived. Luckily, some redemption came.

Within moments of Ishii losing the title, a familiar guitar riff burst into the arena. It was him, the saviour of New Japan, the man that pulled the company riddled with Inokism back from the brink of collapse and ushered in a new, prosperous age; Hiroshi Tanahashi. It’s safe to say I lost my shit, I mean, the man is a living legend after all! The charisma exuding from this man, even from him just walking to the ring was unreal, you really felt like you were in the presence of something truly special. Now, seeing as he was challenging Zack Sabre Jr., returning home to England to defend his British Heavyweight Title, I was expecting a split crowd. However, I wasn’t expecting the levels of resistance put towards Tanahashi. I understood it to a point, but for the guy a couple seats to my left to stand and raise his middle finger to Tanahashi was the most offensive thing I’ve seen in my young life. What a complete prick.

Honestly, I felt kind of bad being less energetic for this match. I was a bit drained from Ishii/KENTA, and being in the Tanahashi supporting minority, particularly in my block, didn’t help things either. Added to that, the grounded, grappling base of this match asked for a closer eye than the rest of the card. Past ZSJ/Tanahashi matches have been somewhat cringe-worthy affairs, seeing as Tana’s knees are bad, his shoulders are a state, his elbows aren’t great, actually I’m not sure if any of his joints are in good nick really. So, it was one hell of a shock to see him take all that punishment and still manage to go up top for a High Fly Flow for the win.

Then, it was time. The main event. One of my favourite things that New Japan do is have the video montage of past IWGP Heavyweight Champions play on the big screen. Hearing the ceremonial music brought it all together, the significance of the moment coming to the fore. I was about to witness a defence of arguably the most prestigious belt in all of wrestling today, and the first time ever done so in the United Kingdom. Plus, with the roaring support for the challenger, ‘The King’ Minoru Suzuki, the feeling of another title change was in the air. Last year’s show in Milton Keynes was soon after Kazuchika Okada had lost the belt to Kenny Omega, and he was having his strange identity crisis, carrying around balloons and shouting ‘Scooby Dooby Doo’ when he jumped off the top rope. But not in the Copper Box. He was back in top form. He was the champion again. He was ‘The Rainmaker’ once again. The trademark coin drop at the start of his theme was enough to send me, and thousands around me, into a frenzy. Just like with Tanahashi, it was a spectacle to behold.

The bell rang, and what followed was a half hour classic, filled with what could be best described as Suzuki having a grand old time attempting murder. It was very much an Okada style epic, with so many tense moments, his hold on the IWGP title looking like it was about to give. Whether it was Suzuki choking the life out of him, hoisting him up for the deadly Gotch-style piledriver, or pounding him with sick strikes, it was a moment of sweet relief whenever Okada managed to get back on his feet. It was hard to watch at points, my hands over my mouth as the punishment continued. Okada kept refusing to back down, the crowd hushing before each stiff elbow and then recoiling with disgust after the wet clubbing sound echoed through the arena. Then Okada, the absolute madman, put his hands behind his back, goading Suzuki into, somehow, hitting him even harder. He’s as ballsy as he is handsome, and it paid off. As well as missing out on the full Rainmaker gimmick at last year’s show, I also didn’t get a chance to see the iconic Rainmaker Lariat, but he made up for it here at Royal Quest, three times over. Each one generated a cheer louder than the last. 

It was over - Okada spun Suzuki out and pulled him in for one last emphatic lariat, covering him, and finally, after a beautiful match, getting the three count. Hands down the best match I’ve seen in person. I sat there in awe of what I had just witnessed, taking in the celebrations and reflecting on the event as a whole. It was an absolute banger of a show, one that I am truly lucky to have been in attendance for. If they keep their promise and return next year, I’ll be trying my darndest to be there, and I implore you to try to as well. New Japan, in my book, are the most consistently amazing promotion out there today, and now in the fallout of the G1 Climax, we’re now on the road to Wrestle Kingdom 14. But for now, Royal Quest sits atop my rankings of shows seen live, so now it's just a matter of waiting to see if it can be overtaken...