Kazuchika Okada vs Katsuyori Shibata
NJPW Sakura Genesis
April 9, 2017
Amid an historic reign as the heavyweight champion of New Japan Pro Wrestling, the self-assured Kazuchika Okada was challenged to a title match by the winner of the New Japan Cup (and thus de facto #1 contender), Katsuyori Shibata. By 2017, Shibata was recognized as one of the grittiest and most dangerous competitors in the promotion, an inhumanly tough all-rounder with an aura of legitimacy to every aspect of his game and someone had never faced Okada one-on-one to that point.
The story of this match is one that can be gleaned simply through gesture and implication: Katsuyori Shibata is a better wrestler than Kazuchika Okada. If Okada wants to not only beat him, but prove that he deserves to be the champion, he must defeat Shibata straight-up with all his knowledge and experience to this point. Shibata counter-wrestles and out-strikes Okada with ease at practically every turn, truly schooling the younger man and looking like a demigod in the process. Shibata’s elbows sound like when you open-palm slap a large watermelon at the grocery store; they positively thunder in comparison to Okada’s strikes. There are a good few minutes where Okada’s face communicates in the universal language of expression, “I’m in trouble,” as Shibata beats the brakes off him.
Even after over 20 minutes of action, Shibata’s offense is still crisper, quicker, and stronger than Okada’s. Eventually, Okada fires up and hits his signature offensive moves, as the two exchanges big strikes and wrestling throws. Okada eventually manages to uncork his finishing blow, The Rainmaker, but Shibata grits his teeth and absolutely tanks it, something that virtually none of Okada’s opponents have had the sheer guts to be able to do up to this point. The match ends after Shibata lands his own version of the Rainmaker, ending in a vicious slap rather than a lariat, but as he moves toward the ropes, Okada yanks him back by the arm and hits a short-arm Rainmaker. Okada brings him up for another and, although it’s effectively a half-measure version of his finisher, this one makes Shibata crumple into Okada’s grasp. One final full-tilt Rainmaker seals the deal. Shibata tries to walk to the back but stumbles and limps forward before collapsing in the entranceway as the cameras move back to Okada in the ring.
Famously, Shibata suffered a subdural hematoma because of a very real headbutt he delivered to Okada near the end of the match. He had to undergo emergency surgery immediately following the match and was forced into retirement afterwards, a decision he made with great reluctance and that he is still pushing back against today. In the years since the match, Shibata has been on a crusade to seemingly prove he can still wrestle at some level, dipping his toe slowly back into a full-blown wrestling performance to the level he is satisfied with. In 2017, the fact that he was still alive weeks after the match was something of a miracle and it was understood his career was over forever; today, one can’t be so sure, as many wrestlers across the world once thought gone forever due to injury are returning to the ring with even greater success and acclaim than before.
This match existed for roughly 3 years as essentially Shibata’s final match. It was a hell of an impression to leave in people’s minds, that you not only hung in there with the heavyweight champion of your organization, but essentially all but proved you were better than him and, on any given Sunday, you could be the top guy. As awful as the injury and the circumstances around it were (and still are), it was a beautiful tragedy that professional wrestling is adept at producing, knowingly or not. Here was a man whose nickname was literally “The Wrestler,” a no-nonsense boots-and-tights grappler who lived for this shit, so much so that he nearly actually killed himself to prove he was the best in the world at it.
There’s an air of tragedy when you watch the match with this foreknowledge, which dovetails effectively with how precisely the in-ring narrative is delivered. If you think about Shibata in this, even though he seems to be relatively okay these days, it’s hard to not think about how this match is the summation of his life’s work. He began wrestling in 1999 and, nearly 20 years later, he ended his full-time wrestling career with this one match that many like me still think and talk about, and likely will for a long time. In following any kind of sport, pastime, activity, or field for long enough, you may get lucky enough to witness a person’s hard work pay off. That often doesn’t happen for reasons ranging from mundane to once-in-a-lifetime, but when you do see someone like Katsuyori Shibata perform at the highest level possible and effectively put the period on the final sentence of his career (at least at the time), it stays with you. You remember it and you believe that, maybe, it can happen for you and the people you love. Maybe we can all be the best at something.
This match, as surely can be said for others as well, made me into a fan of Shibata; unfortunately, all too late, like when I got into Type O Negative after Peter Steele died. There was nothing to look forward to anymore and only a legacy to sift through and unturn, taking my place in the sand as a Johnny come-lately amid those who were there, man. I’ve come to appreciate the aesthetic of the meat-and-potatoes wrestler who shows up, does what he likes, and then leaves. Those types of wrestlers don’t project a desire for acceptance or love, but they find joy in what they do best, and that exact joy is what makes them so charismatic. We’re lucky enough now that we don’t have to look back on this match so sadly, as it seems Shibata is destined to head back into the ring and fight another day (sooner than perhaps we realize).
Almost a shame, as you can’t really ask for a better final act than this.
*****
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