The Soviet Perspective: Soviet Wrestlers in NJPW and NJPW in Russia

Soviet athletes wrestle for NJPW and NJPW comes to Russia in 1989. The story told from the Soviet perspective.

Anyone familiar with the history of New Japan Pro-Wrestling should already be aware that in 1989 a number of athletes from the Soviet Union joined the ranks of NJPW and then at the end of the year NJPW held a show in Moscow. However, whenever you read about all of that it's always from the Japanese or American perspective. In this article we'll take a look at it from the Soviet perspective. We'll trace the story as it was told on the pages of the Soviet press and we'll also look at what some of the Soviet men involved had to say about their experiences with professional wrestling.

Pro Wrestling in the Soviet Union Before 1989

Let's get this out of the way first, because it's something that some people probably don't realize: there was professional wrestling in Russia specifically. and the Soviet Union as a whole, before 1989. In fact, there was pro wrestling in the USSR until the end of the 1960s, perhaps even the start of the 1970s. That was pro wrestling in the Greco-Roman style (i.e. no holds below the waist allowed). And no rings, just wrestling mats. That type of pro wrestling first appeared in the Russian Empire (which back then included Russia and a whole lot of territories that are now their own countries) in the 1890s and by the end of the first decade of the 20th century Russia became the top territory for pro wrestling in Europe, and it would remain that way until World War I. Beloved heroes, hated villains, comedy figures, mysterious masked men, towering giants, etc. It was quite the cast of characters. In that period pro wrestling was incredibly popular in Russia and the most popular attraction of all were the masked wrestlers. No country in the history of pro wrestling up to that point had loved masked wrestlers more and had more of them than Russia did, but that's another story for another day. Pro wrestling continued in Russia after WWI and still enjoyed a good deal of popularity. Eventually, the new socialist regime in the country caught up to it and forced a restructuring of the pro wrestling business. No more free enterprise, and no more masked men allowed either. Pro wrestling was put exclusively under the umbrella of the circus. There could be pro wrestling, in the Greco-Roman style, only in the state circuses and nowhere else, and the Soviet pro wrestlers weren't allowed to wrestle abroad. But make no mistake about it, at its core this was still pro wrestling as we know it - predetermined winners and all. It's just that this form of pro wrestling, this circus wrestling, stylistically was closer to amateur wrestling than any of the other professional wrestling styles around the world. And circus wrestling was pretty popular in the USSR in the 1930s and beyond until eventually disappearing completely either at the end of the 1960s or the early 1970s. That was the end of professional wrestling in the Soviet Union. Enter Antonio Inoki.

Soviet Wrestlers Head to New Japan Pro-Wrestling 

In 1988 Antonio Inoki, the top star and president of New Japan Pro-Wrestling, had the idea to bring Soviet wrestlers to Japan for the first time. The Soviet Union was one of the superpowers in amateur wrestling, but, for the reasons explained above, at that point there were no Soviet pro wrestlers. There were plenty of fake Russians in pro wrestling and some pro wrestlers of Soviet descent, but there were pro wrestlers coming from the Soviet Union itself. Inoki always valued the idea of featuring legitimate high-level athletes in New Japan and in the Soviet Union he saw an opportunity to recruit a whole new crop of credible wrestlers to his promotion.

The talks between the two sides started. Antonio Inoki and NJPW on one side, and Sovintersport and the USSR State Sports Committee on the other. Sovintersport was the Soviet state agency that would negotiate professional contracts for Soviet athletes abroad while the USSR State Sports Committee was the agency that governed all sport organizations in the Soviet Union. Soviet athletes back then were not allowed to negotiate themselves privately. All such negotiations had to go through the Soviet state agencies. Sovintersport was established during the times of the Perestroika, in 1986 to be more precise, as the Soviet Union was starting to become more open to the West, and in this case the East too. The idea was for Soviet athletes (football players, hockey players, boxers, etc.) to now be able to compete professionally abroad, but with the commitment that a large part of their income would go to the state. Because significant money and international attention were involved, the KGB kept a watchful eye on Sovintersport's activities and the associated athletes.

At the start of November 1988 Antonio Inoki visited Moscow. At that time Inoki and Sovintersport reached a preliminary agreement to take ten Soviet amateur wrestlers to Japan. The first three names announced in the Russian press, by Inoki himself, were Soslan Andiyev (2-time Olympic gold medalist, 4-time World champion, 3-time European champion and 7-time USSR champion in freestyle wrestling), Salman Hasimikov* (4-time World champion, 2-time European champion and 4-time USSR champion in freestyle wrestling) and Evgeny Artyukhin (World champion in Greco-Roman wrestling). For reasons unknown, despite still being talked about as late as mid January 1989, Andiyev did not wrestle for NJPW.

* Sidenote: People online tend to spell his last name as Hashimikov in English, because that's how the name was announced and spelled in Japan. However, that's not correct. The proper spelling is Hasimikov (Хасимиков in Russian) or Khasimikov if you prefer a more phonetic spelling.

In late December 1988 Inoki returned to Moscow to continue the talks and the scouting process. They were still trying to figure out who was going to go to Japan. There had already been two training camps - one in Moscow with about 15 wrestlers and an additional one in Gori, Georgia. The idea was to narrow the list of names down to eight to ten wrestlers.

In mid February 1989 Gennady Sapunov, the head of the USSR State Sports Committee's Department of Combat Sports, returned from Japan and announced that a 6-month trial contract had been signed with NJPW. The financial terms of the contract were not disclosed, although in later interviews a couple of the wrestlers themselves confirmed they were being paid $700 for every week they spent in Japan. There was no word on how much the Soviet state was being paid, but I would imagine it was significantly more than $700 per wrestler. One unique clause that the Soviet side demanded to be included in the contract was a morality clause of sorts. NJPW was to never put the Soviet wrestlers in scenes that, and I quote, "promote cruelty, sadism, violence, and other actions incompatible with Soviet morality". So no choking, punching, cheating, bleeding, using foreign objects, etc. Stuff like that. Just pure, clean wrestling was what the Soviet wrestlers were supposed to present.

By mid February 1989 the first three Soviet wrestlers had already left for Tokyo to continue their pro wrestling training there. The men in question were the aforementioned 4-time World champion Salman Hasimikov, Victor Zangiev (Junior World champion, Junior European champion and 6-time USSR champion in freestyle wrestling) and Vladimir Berkovich. The three made their New Japan Pro-Wrestling debut on 22 February 1989 in Tokyo.

Victor Zangiev, Salman Hasimikov and Vladimir Berkovich
(photo source: the defunct Chechen website wsport.su)

As the year rolled on additional Soviet athletes headed to Japan to wrestle for NJPW: Shota Chochishvili (Olympic gold medalist in judo), Evgeny Artyukhin (World champion in Greco-Roman wrestling), Vakha Evloev (European and USSR champion in freestyle wrestling), Khabil Biktashev (European and USSR champion in judo), Timur Dzarasov (son of the 2-time Olympic bronze medalist in freestyle wrestling Savkudz Dzarasov), and Andrey Slushaev (protégé of the infamous Otari Kvantrishvili). Additionally, the Russian press in mid April 1989 reported that Avtandil Maisuradze (Junior World champion and USSR champion in Greco-Roman wrestling) and Bоris Gogichashvili (2-time USSR champion in judo) had also traveled to Japan to make their pro wrestling debut, but for whatever reason they never made their debut.

It should be said that in general I couldn't find much Soviet coverage of the Soviet wrestlers' matches in Japan and whenever the Soviet press wrote about them wrestling in Japan it was just a short paragraph or two. Of course, I haven't checked every single newspaper or magazine, but I searched through quite a few sports ones and couldn't find much. With that said, we'll skip what was happening in Japan and continue with the story as it was developing in Moscow.

In mid May 1989 it was announced in the Russian press that NJPW had decided to renew the contract of the Soviet wrestlers. Inoki once again visited Moscow in mid June 1989 and also in early October 1989. As part of that second visit he announced that a big event had been planned for 31 December in Moscow. Inoki described it as follows: "We've planned a grand show in Moscow on 31 December - an international sports spectacle. This sporting celebration, scheduled for the last day of the year, will include friendly competitions in freestyle wrestling, judo, sambo, and national sports popular in both countries, as well as mixed-rules matches between masters of various martial arts."

NJPW Comes to Russia

And indeed, the big show became a reality. On 31 December 1989 New Japan Pro-Wrestling, the Moscow City Council and the Directorate of Lenin Stadium (Luzhniki Stadium) organized the USSR's first pro wrestling show in many years. And, obviously, this was pro wrestling of a new kind. A type of pro wrestling the Soviet Union had never seen before.

Heading into the show the official name of the event in Russia was "International Professional Wrestling and Boxing Festival". However, at the show itself it was billed as "International Wrestling Festival" so it seems the boxing part was dropped. The post-show reports also didn't mention anything about boxing or any other sports besides pro wrestling. As an added attraction, the Japanese singer Masumi Yonekura was scheduled to sing at the event. I'm not sure if she did, but the popular Russian pop duo Kombinaciya (Alena Apina and Tatiana Ivanova) did perform a song. 

NJPW in Moscow in 1989 (the cover of the official program for the show)

The full results from the show (courtesy of wrestlingdata.com, with some spelling fixes of the names applied by me):

31 December 1989
Moscow, Russia
Luzhniki Small Sports Arena
1. Kuniaki Kobayashi def. Takayuki Iizuka (12:07 minutes)
2. Jushin Liger def. Black Tiger [Mark Rocco] (9:32 minutes)
3. Different Style Fight: Khabil Biktashev def. Hiroshi Hase
4. Masahiro Chono def. Timur Dzarasov (10:46 minutes)
5. Riki Choshu def. Victor Zangiev (6:04 minutes)
6. Shinya Hashimoto drew Vakha Evloev (15 minutes)
7. Bam Bam Bigelow def. Vladimir Berkovich (9:30 minutes)
8. Salman Hasimikov def. Manny Fernandez (8:20 minutes)
9. Antonio Inoki & Shota Chochishvili def. Masa Saito & Brad Rheingans (11:35 minutes)

Back home, New Japan announced the attendance as 12,000 (super no vacancy). By all accounts, it was a full house, but was it really 12,000? The arena has 8,700 seats so 12,000 seems unlikely, even with the extra seats on the floor of the arena. Either way, from an attendance standpoint the event was definitely a success.

Photos from the Soviet press: the NJPW show in Moscow

Not only did the show eventually air on television in Japan, it was also broadcast in the Soviet Union too - the first pro wrestling show to ever air in the USSR. I haven't been able to confirm this with the TV listings, but according to a later report the show aired that same day in the USSR on a commercial TV channel (the channel's name was not mentioned in the article). Given that at the time there was only one commercial TV channel in the Soviet Union, a recently launched one called 2x2, that must've been the one to air it. Keep in mind, back then 2x2's reach was pretty limited and it could be watched mainly in Moscow and the surrounding areas. Having said that, a few weeks after the event an article randomly mentioned that 1 million viewers had tuned in for the broadcast, but the way it was worded in the article it didn't strike me as an official number so I don't know how accurate it is. More importantly, however, on 11 January 1990 at 7 pm a 1-hour version of the show aired on one of national state-run channels - Programme Two. That would have surely been the broadcast that most Soviet people saw, because Programme Two was the second most watched channel in the USSR at that time. In the TV listings the broadcast was advertised to start with the referee explaining to the audience, with the help of two of the wrestlers, what the prohibited moves and holds were (which makes sense to do for an audience that's never seen that type of wrestling before, and it's also a nice throwback to the circus wrestling days when they used to do the same thing).

41 minutes of footage from the NJPW show in Moscow, shot from ringside (so no commentary)
(footage from before the doors opened, the start of the show, and the last four matches)

I can't tell you how the general public received the show, that's too broad of a question, and you'd have to ask them. The crowd in the arena seemed to enjoy it though. What I can say is that the reviews in the 1990 Soviet press that I saw were predominantly negative. They weren't all negative, but most were leaning in that direction. And it wasn't about whether it was a good pro wrestling show or a bad pro wrestling show. The main issue was that it was pro wrestling, period. That type of wrestling was just something too different and too foreign to the Soviet journalists. Journalists were having a hard time wrapping their head around how someone could enjoy a sport that was so obviously not real. Plus, they didn't like the brutality of it and were against the idea of promoting such violent visuals.

That 1989 show was NJPW's first and only show in the Soviet Union. Despite the arena being full, they never returned again. Soviet wrestlers continued performing for NJPW in Japan until December 1990 and that was the end of the NJPW/Soviet Union relationship.

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Now that we've gone through the core story, let's take a look at some translated interviews from the Soviet press that add extra context. I tried to include thoughts from as many of the wrestlers involved as I could, and even added thoughts from a few additional people. In general there weren't a whole lot of interviews to begin with. As best as I could tell, the pro wrestling stuff was mostly ignored in a lot of the Soviet sports publications back then.

Another thing to note before the interviews. Back then in the USSR they were using two terms to describe the same thing - "professional wrestling" and "catch" - so keep that in mind when reading the interviews below. Catch, of course, is the term by which pro wrestling has been known in many European countries for decades now.

Interview with Antonio Inoki (5 November 1988)

This was one of Inoki's earliest interviews in the Soviet press so he's being asked to explain what pro wrestling is.

- Interviewer: Inoki-san, what exactly is professional wrestling: a sport, a show, a circus attraction?

- Inoki: Perhaps a little bit of everything. Our wrestlers must have excellent physical fitness, master throwing techniques and acrobatic stunts, and possess artistic talent. I assure you, combining all of this is extremely difficult.

- Interviewer: After my first encounter with catch, I got the impression that the outcome of the bouts was predetermined, and the matches themselves were conducted according to a specific scenario. Am I correct?

- Inoki: Unfortunately, your impression is not entirely correct. Of course, we meticulously practice all our stunts during our daily four-hour training sessions to avoid seriously injuring ourselves and our partners. The public, knowing that no one is killed here, happily attends our competitions to watch the pure work of masters of their craft. The wrestlers rehearse the "stage persona" in which they appear before the audience: a terrible villain or a noble knight, a naive newcomer, or something else of that nature. But the outcome of the match is unknown to everyone, and victory is achieved purely by sporting means: pinfall or submission. The judges closely monitor this and severely punish prohibited actions - punches to the head, groin…

- Interviewer: Judging by the way you say "we" and "ours," and by looking at your figure, one might conclude that you, too, have entered the wrestling ring?

- Inoki: And I continue to do so to this day, even though I'm already 45 years old. I've been a professional wrestler for 28 of those years. And 16 years ago, I started my own business, founding New Japan Pro-Wrestling. We now have about 50 wrestlers. They're mostly Japanese, but there are also Americans, Mexicans, and Koreans. Some came to catch wrestling from judo, some from sumo, and there are former freestyle wrestlers and American football players. As for me, in my youth, I was into track and field, and I did the shot put. And, as the experts said, I had some talent. But wrestling won out.

- Interviewer: What attracted the attention of New Japan Pro-Wrestling to our athletes?

- Inoki: I consider your question purely rhetorical. Soviet freestyle and Greco-Roman wrestlers enjoy a unique popularity throughout the world; their victories at world championships and the Olympic Games are truly admirable. We have long dreamed of inviting some of your champions, who have left big-time sports. And, to our great joy, negotiations held with the USSR State Sports Committee have shown that this dream can come true. A preliminary agreement has already been reached for ten Soviet wrestlers - for six months at the moment - to travel to Japan and compete in tournaments organized by New Japan Pro-Wrestling. This "magnificent ten" included such stars as two-time Olympic champion and four-time world champion Soslan Andiyev, Salman Hasimikov, also a four-time world champion, and world champion Evgeny Artyukhin... You can't imagine how delighted our spectators will be when all this magnificence appears before them!

- Interviewer: Inoki-san, last year in America I had the chance to see a professional wrestling match involving two, as it was announced, "Russians from Siberia". One was wearing boots, the other was wearing a papakha with a hammer and sickle. The goal of these "Russians", who most likely had no idea where Siberia was, was clearly to shock the audience with their stupidity, cruelty, and meanness. And they succeeded in this during their clash with two much more attractive Americans. The outcome of this "international" battle was obvious: to the spectators' delight, the handsome Americans "beat up" the treacherous "foreigners." I have no doubt that the organizers of this propaganda spectacle achieved their goal: for many of those sitting in the grandstands that evening, the word Russian would later almost certainly evoke the image of these fake, theatrical bats. What is your opinion of such "techniques" in professional wrestling?

- Inoki: Unfortunately, I've seen something similar, too. And my reaction was absolutely identical to yours. However, I disagree that this is a 'trick' in our wrestling arsenal. Dishonest people can be anywhere. At New Japan Pro-Wrestling, such tricks are excluded. And by inviting your wrestlers, I really want the audience to see and love real Russians, not fictional, caricatured ones. I don't think you have anything against that?

Statement by Yuri Alekseenko (28 December 1988)

Alekseenko was one of the key guys who put the NJPW deal together. Notice the comparison to the circus wrestling that I mentioned at the start.

"In our minds, catch has always been a form of wrestling that demeans human dignity. However, upon closer examination, it became clear that this is far from the case. At least, what Antonio Inoki offers is a circus wrestling style that is absolutely safe for health. Very similar to the one that was popular in our country in the late 1940s. During a circus wrestling match, athletes were expected to put on a show, performing techniques and simulating a brutal fight. In other words, they were expected to be performers. Negotiations are ongoing. The Japanese side would very much like to see such well-known former Soviet athletes as Soslan Andiyev, Salman Hasimikov, Evgeny Artyukhin, and others join the independent Soviet team. However, it is too early to discuss its composition. Eight to ten wrestlers will be selected. And then the audience will be able to judge their skills. In our view catch, as a vibrant show, should contribute to the popularity of wrestling in our country. Furthermore, our formerly renowned athletes will have the opportunity to extend their athletic careers."

Interview with Gennady Sapunov (15 Jan 1989)

Another one of the key negotiators on the Soviet side, and once again bringing up circus wrestling.

- Sapunov: The main condition we set for the Japanese was that our team should not take part in demonstrations of violence and cruelty. They agreed to this. And if we exclude these "techniques" from the fighters' arsenal, then the emergence of a circus-style wrestling environment, cultivated in our country from the distant past until the mid-1960s, arises. The idea of ​​capturing and not contradicting the generally accepted norms of the martyrs. So why not try again?

- Interviewer: So, if athletes previously competed for championship gold medals, now, as befits circus athletes, they compete for salaries!

- Sapunov: And for a long life in sports. Besides, this is excellent propaganda for all types of wrestling.

Interview with Shota Chochishvili (23 May 1989)

Chochishvili being interviewed a month after he defeated Inoki for the WWF World Martial Arts Heavyweight Championship.

- Interviewer: Whose idea was this fight?

- Chochishvili: Inoki himself. Let me remind you that he once had a highly publicized duel with Muhammad Ali, and defeated the famous Dutch judoka Wim Ruska. Inoki is now 44 years old and very popular in Japan. He continues to compete in wrestling, maintains his shape - he weighs 115 kg - and heads the country’s largest professional wrestling club. He visited us in Georgia this winter - in Tbilisi and Gori - and then suggested organizing such a match at the Tokyo Dome.

- Interviewer: But at 38, you haven't competed for a long time...

- Chochishvili: Yes, for over ten years. I work as a legal consultant for the Gori Procurement Association, and I try to find time to train the guys at the local sports school. So I'm also keeping in shape. When Inoki challenged me to a fight, I trained seriously for about a month and a half.

- Interviewer: And how did you agree on the rules of the match?

- Chochishvili: It's different for everyone: he uses wrestling techniques, I use judo. Five rounds of three minutes each, with the referee counting to ten. The arena is a square, unlike in wrestling matches, without ropes.

- Interviewer: How did the stands receive the guest's victory?

- Chochishvili: The crowd groaned and cried - I'm not exaggerating. In short, they were indescribably delighted to see such a fight. And Inoki sincerely congratulated me, offered a rematch, and a two-year contract with his Pro-Wrestling.

- Interviewer: And how do you feel about such prospects?

- Chochishvili: Honestly, I don't. If you mean a one-off performance, I'm ready for that, but for a year or two - no way. I have a lot to do at home, and I need to spend time with my sons: 14-year-old Rezo and 13-year-old Ramaz are Georgian judo champions among young men...

Interview with Salman Hasimikov (25 June 1989)

Hasimikov being interviewed a month after he defeated Vader for the IWGP Heavyweight Championship.

- Interviewer: Salman, when I found out you’re back from Japan, I started looking for you. But I couldn't get in touch with you: you "slipped away" to Grozny, to be with your parents. Well, I finally waited for you. How do you feel being a pro?

- Hasimikov: I'm still in a kind of happy daze. You know, I never chased fame, I was indifferent to praise and titles. But now I'm even somehow proud of my new title. I'm very happy that this happened. Now, at 36, I suddenly realized that my life in sports isn't over, that I still have plenty of strength, and that public recognition is quite gratifying. I'm back doing what I love, and I once again feel like a useful person for society! I know I have a tough character, but I can't help it. Bitterness remained in my soul - I didn't get to compete in the Olympics. I had three opportunities, but they didn't work out. I finally left the sport with hopes of a good job. And then, like many former stars, I encountered indifference, callousness. I was an officer, but the military's constraints were restricting. I always felt misunderstood. I retired from the army. I wanted to get a job as a coach at the gym in the Olympic Village, where I live. There was no position for me. So, I, a father of four, found myself unemployed… And suddenly, an unusual offer - to become a professional wrestler! I jumped at it. True, some people were saying: "Who needs Soviet athletes to participate in bourgeois catch wrestling, this hotbed of violence, sadism, and cruelty?" Frankly, at first I was even a little scared, especially when I watched the videos. Then I realized - it was far from true.

- Interviewer: Who else received an invitation to join the New Japan Pro-Wrestling troupe?

- Hasimikov: Last November, the famous wrestler and president of that very company, Antonio Inoki, flew to Moscow from Tokyo with two members of his troupe. Negotiations with wrestling specialists Gennady Sapunov, Ivan Yarygin, Yuri Alekseenko, and Sovintersport proceeded smoothly and cordially. And so, about fifteen of our former wrestlers began training in the Olympic Village. Then, the training camp continued in Gori. Finally, in February of this year, Volodya Berkovich, Victor Zangiev, and I went to Tokyo to "scout out" the situation. It was in the Japanese capital in 1971 that I became the Junior World Champion. So, you can imagine how excited I was to return to the city of my youthful memories. We were simply stunned by the shocking, astonishing reception. We were surrounded by kids, sports fans, and even professionals. You know, it's unusual to feel like a "luminary." Even the sumo wrestlers, whose classes we attended, which is a show with its own mysterious moves and cunning scenario. Of course, there are also their own "villains", "black masks", "supermen". There is a fight in the ring, good and evil. I was simply shocked by the Japanese belief in the plausibility of the actions. They experience the failures of their favorites in a naive and touching way. They rejoice, like children, when justice triumphs. Yes, in a fight, there is a need for passions, muzzles, "illegal" strikes, chokes, and painful holds. But all of this, of course, is an imitation. Pros always compete without injury! It was agreed in advance that we would represent the Soviet school specifically - where there was no room for underhand strikes. So we trained, practicing effective combinations of "clean" techniques, making us sweat profusely. We had time to watch Tokyo, attend the sumo wrestlers' training and competitions. Well, I tell you, the guys there are "chubby", weighing 200-240 kilograms. I tried to lift one - it was difficult. The competitions themselves, in general, seemed a bit boring, but the Japanese can sit around all day long, lying on the cushions: they eat, sleep, and shout alternately. At the end of April, Zangiev, Evloev, Berkovich, Chochishvili, and I went to Japan again, but this time for a "fight". We were incredibly nervous. By the way, many people think that our indoor stadium, the "Olympic Stadium," is the largest in the world. This is not true. "Tokyo Dome" seats 53,800 spectators. A magnificent structure! That's where the one-day professional tournament was held. We competed in red or blue wrestling singlets with the letters "USSR" on the chest and the hammer and sickle on the back. No matter how we "worked" according to the script, we had to wrestle with all our might, throw and throw! The winner was the one who knocked their opponent down and held them for three seconds. Shota Chochishvili was challenged to a six-round fight by Antonio Inoki himself, now 45 years old and who once fought in the "million" fight with Muhammad Ali. When Shota landed a great submission, there was not a dry spot on him. The fans first howled with grief, and then for ten minutes they didn't let Shota leave the ring - they welcomed a new hero! My opponent was the American Bam Bam Bigelow - 195 cm tall and weight of 165 kg. I currently weigh 120 kg. I had to work hard to hoist the American onto my shoulders and spin him around. The applause and screams still ring in my ears. I don't know what happened to the Japanese, but they seemed to go crazy with joy whenever one of us entered the ring. It was adoration. Maybe they saw normal guys, without masks, without frightening paint and colorful costumes. The crowd chanted incessantly: "Cho-cha! Cho-cha!" Then: "Ha-shi-mi!" For four hours, the matches were broadcast on a special television channel, broadcast to both the United States and other countries. The stands were buzzing with sales of attractive t-shirts, hats, various souvenirs, and colorful, specialized wrestling magazines. Tired and happy, Inoki hugged us all late in the evening: "I wasn't mistaken about you..."

- Interviewer: Salman, just a week ago, I spoke with Inoki when he arrived in Moscow. Antonio
made the impression of a modest, shy man. He didn't hide the fact that he was a businessman and had struck gold. The president of the troupe wittily remarked that he was like a chef whose job it was to prepare a delicious meal for the audience. And he was very pleased with the fact that the Japanese have discovered strong and charming Russian guys, and that thousands of fans are awaiting new performances by Soviet wrestlers, who demonstrated amazing technique and skill. And that tournament in April, by the way, attracted such a huge audience for the first time. If it's not a secret, what income do the president, the wrestlers, and the State Sports Committee of the USSR earn?

- Hasimikov: Inoki said that Sovintersport received a tidy sum for us, but how much is a commercial secret. I think we should finally make public how much foreign currency we, now professionals, bring to the country. We are paid $700 for each week we spend in Japan. We flew home again and were back at work again in May. This time we were participating in a 15-city tour of Japan - there was a tough selection process for the final. And so, on May 25th, in Osaka, the final took place, where I found myself with the towering American Big Van Vader. He was 195 cm tall and weighed 175 kg! I had seen him during training how easily he bench-pressed a 200 kg weight. What can I say - it was a "meeting of the century." He lifted me like a feather, threw me, but it's not for nothing that I'm a fan of gymnastics and acrobatics - I twisted in the air like a gutta-percha boy. The spectators roared when I performed my signature moves, with leg hooks and sweeps. In the ninth minute, I managed to "pull" him up with a back suplex. I pressed myself and slammed the shoulder blades of "Big Vader" to the mat… Three days and three nights they came to us, Soviet athletes, for autographs. You know, I'm calm about fame. But here, tears welled up - these are kind and sincere people, what do we have to share with them? Living in friendship - that's the main thing. The world is changing before our eyes. Our guys are playing in France and Spain, racing on the roads of Europe, basketball players and boxers are getting ready for a long journey overseas. Stereotypes are crumbling. Before, it seemed so scary - so terrifying! But everything is simpler and cleaner. That's how it should be on this earth at the end of the 20th century.

Interview with Vladimir Berkovich (2 December 1989)

- Interviewer: How is catch different from other types of wrestling?

- Berkovich: It's a synthesis of freestyle and classical wrestling, sambo, judo, boxing, karate, and... acrobatics. To win, you need to pin your opponent for three seconds. Artistry and the ability to play to the crowd play a significant role in the matches. And you shouldn't put much faith in painful holds or supposedly powerful punches. These are all showy, carefully rehearsed tricks, although not without a share of improvisation.

- Interviewer: Where and who trains you?

- Berkovich: We train independently, in different sports complexes.

- Interviewer: Are there many catch fans in Japan?

- Berkovich: Professional wrestling is very popular abroad, especially in Japan and the United States. That's why the beautiful Tokyo Dome, which seats 53,800 spectators, is always filled to capacity.

- Interviewer: Who pays for your travel expenses?

- Berkovich: We signed a contract through the USSR State Sports Committee with a Japanese company for a period of one year. They will cover all expenses. We and our country, to which we bring in a considerable amount of income, are quite happy with the contract.

Statements by several popular Soviet athletes (16 and 17 January 1990)

Various athletes are asked for their opinion on pro wrestling.

- Alexey Tyurin (3-time European champion and 3-time USSR champion in judo): "Several other well-known heavyweights and I were planning to publicly challenge Inoki and his troupe. In other words, we wanted to sign him, but he hadn't yet decided. Our goals are purely commercial; why not make money if there's an opportunity? Catch seems like a profitable show. I'm currently thinking about creating my own troupe, with which we could tour the country. After all, so many athletes have turned to racketeering; it's better to let them perform tricks on the stage."

- Avel Kazachenkov (European champion and 2-time USSR champion in judo): "I would never agree to 'play the fool' like that. In my opinion, it's shameful that such outstanding athletes as Shota Chochishvili and Salman Hasimikov, the pride of our sport, are engaged in this clowning. And it's far from harmless. It's outright propaganda of violence. As if we don't have enough brawls on the streets already."

- Boris Mishchenko (2-time USSR champion in sambo): "Ah, if only I could shave off twenty years. I'd be happy to compete in catch. I loved exhibition performances when I was young."

- Interviewer: How do you like catch?
- Vladimir Shkalov (5-time World champion, European champion and 6-time USSR champion in sambo): They're tumbling around quite well. I just don't understand some of the spectators. Do you really have to be a wrestler yourself to realize that this isn't a real competition, but a show, a "show-off," as we say. Some are yelling "Break his arm, smash his head." I'm amazed at their cruelty and naivety. If all the blows demonstrated here had been real, we'd have had to call not just an ambulance, but a funeral carriage.
- Interviewer: So, you didn't like it?
- Shkalov: I didn't like the reaction of some of the audience, but the wrestlers' body control, some of their moves, and elements of clowning - there's a certain interest in that. After all, figure skaters go into professional ballet, and even before the Revolution, circus arenas existed for wrestlers.
- Would you like to try your hand at catch, sign a contract to perform abroad?
- Honestly, I wouldn't mind. I'd probably just need to lose about ten kilograms. You need to breathe well. A show fight lasts 15 minutes.

Interview with Vladimir Berkovich (24 March 1990)

- Interviewer: So, Vladimir, you've become a true pro, even though you don't have any major titles. As far as I know, there were other celebrities who trained in Japan, but the troupe's president and his assistants didn't keep all the former stars on the "team." Why?

- Berkovich: When we started training together, we immediately sensed that this wasn't an easy task. Our knowledge of catch technique was insufficient, so we had to work hard. Not all the guys grasped the essence of catch. It requires artistry, the ability to transform in the ring. Some seemed slow and inelegant, others completely inflexible. Catch requires serious work, both in training and in public. No matter how the match unfolds, without improvisation, without creativity, without clever moves, everything will go down the drain. For this reason, some of our champions didn't make it into the troupe. For example, heavyweight Timur Dzarasov, who is primarily known for being the son of Savkudz Dzarasov, a bronze medalist at the Rome Olympics, caught the eye of the firm's chief consultant, Riki Choshu, both for his physique and his quick thinking.

- Interviewer: Catch, as thousands of television viewers have now seen, is a noisy, flamboyant, perhaps even somewhat vulgar spectacle. Anyone even slightly familiar with wrestling will understand that there's no real rivalry here. The bouts are designed, in my opinion, for a naive audience; they have a certain low-brow taste. Screams, groans, grimaces, antics - this may be exotic for us. For the first half hour. But still, it's repetitive! And you see that everything is a complete imitation, there are no real strikes or chokes, and they're just pretending to pull each other's hair. What's so interesting about that?

- Berkovich: I agree, our viewers are not used to all this. In America, Canada, Japan, and other countries, catch is easily accepted, and tens of thousands of people go to see it. I, for example, was amazed by the Japanese - they genuinely care, cheer until they have a heart attack, and cry if their favorite loses. Although, of course, they know it's all just a show. But they're genuinely having fun, relaxing. To create the illusion of exciting fights, a very high level of athletic preparation is required. We spent a long time studying and rehearsing numerous spectacular techniques and throws, holds, jumps from the ring ropes, acrobatic flips on the ground, and so on. And we developed a sense of artistry. That's why catch wrestlers' shows fill entire closed stadiums. They are as popular in Japan as sumo wrestling and baseball.

- Interviewer: I've watched videos of American catch wrestling many times. There was often a man in the ring playing the "Russian Bear", the "Russian Ivan". And, of course, he would lose to some raging hunk in a scary mask. It's worth noting that at Luzhniki, the American Bigelow (who weighed nearly 170 kilograms) also projected the image of an uncontrollable "superman." But when they interviewed him in the locker room, without the makeup, he turned out to be a very nice guy, a kind family man, even shy. Why all these theatrical masks?

- Berkovich: Yes, the "Russian Bear" used to be popular with the public. And that kind of politicized the performance. Well, how did we depict Americans in caricatures? As cowboys with revolvers, robbing banks. Or as fat bourgeois with cigars in their mouths, their feet always on the table. All that existed. Now, it's almost gone. Inoki, in fact, created New Japan Pro-Wrestling with the goal of uniting people. He even has his own motto: "Through sport - toward peace on earth." But the masks remain. Some don horns, some come out in tiger masks, some in black, some in red - it's all for the mystique and to stir up public interest. Catch is an entire movement, with its own television channel, its own magazines, managers, coaches, hotels, sports arenas. And with its own international tours. I can say that Soviet professionals will take part in catch competitions in China and Hong Kong at the end of May. The Japanese have already performed in China, but we will be going there with them for the first time.

- Interviewer: Yes, that's interesting news. But we met specifically after you, along with Olympic champion Mikhail Mamiashvili and former national team member Andrey Slushaev, visited the United States. For what purpose?

- Berkovich: We were invited, so to speak, to scout out the area by an American company that holds shares in a large troupe of catch wrestlers. Since tickets were very difficult to find, we arrived in New York a week late, and we weren't able to train with the strongest wrestlers: they were on a tour of the country. But we still held a number of classes and watched videotapes. American catch wrestlers are more comical; there are many scenes that make the audience laugh. And don't think that these performances subtly preach a cult of violence and cruelty. There are elements of "intimidation," but in Russian, it can still be called a farce, and the show should be viewed as colorful entertainment, where you can shout, whistle, and let out your emotions. Mikhail Mamiashvili was our coach-manager. Believe me, we were treated with the most attentive care and friendliness. We also visited San Francisco, where Šarūnas Marčiulionis himself came to our hotel.

Interview with Evgeny Artyukhin (10 April 1990)

Technically, this interview has nothing to do with the NJPW topic at hand and it was taken in relation to another pro wrestling show in the USSR, but Artyukhin did wrestle for NJPW and in my opinion seeing him navigate around the "real or fake" questions is worth including.

- Interviewer: So what is this: a show? Wrestling? Or, really, a fight?

- Artyukhin: This is a sport, first and foremost. Whatever they say. Almost everyone here is a former wrestler: classic [Greco-Roman] wrestlers, freestyle wrestlers. We can do a lot.

- Interviewer: But you're not just throwing. You're hitting! You could even break something!

- Artyukhin: Yes, you can. But to do this, you have to break the rules. And in catch, causing injuries is prohibited. Firstly, you'll have to pay the victim a huge penalty, and secondly, you'll lose this job forever, in any country in the world.

- Interviewer: So, you're just faking your punches?

- Artyukhin: They must be calculated down to the millimeter, spectacular. And safe.

- Interviewer: But you're throwing it for real, professionally...

- Artyukhin: As they taught you in professional sports.

- Interviewer: Injuries are possible, too!

- Artyukhin: Even in ballet, injuries happen.

- Interviewer: Evgeny, what's more important in catch then - artistry or athletic training!

- Artyukhin: Both. And also the ability to endure.

- Interviewer: What about obvious violations? When a second guy bursts into the ring and the two of them beat the first guy? Is that excitement? A fight scenario?

- Artyukhin: All at once.

- Interviewer: Evgeny, I know you trained at the school of the famous Japanese master Antonio Inoki. What do they teach there?

- Artyukhin: Well, I went to Japan a couple of times. I studied. I even had six bouts there.

- Interviewer: And how many did you win?

- Artyukhin: Four, I think.

- Interviewer: Your wrestling and what I've seen on video and TV are still very different. There's more expression, more like a real fight… I'm not advocating extreme brutality, but...

- Artyukhin: We still have little experience. This should be a show.

- Interviewer: Is this "brutality" really necessary? I saw one of our athletes break his nose in the ring, I think. His whole face was covered in blood...

- Artyukhin: About the injury. It's his own fault. We need to be more careful, more professional, although no one is immune to accidents. And brutality... And remember boxing!

- Interviewer: But they have strict rules!

- Artyukhin: We have strict rules too! I already told you.

- Interviewer: But you do choking!

- Artyukhin: According to the rules, no more than three seconds. And victory is still awarded to the one who knocks the opponent down. Well, a clear victory, like in regular wrestling.

- Interview: Evgeny, you're already in your fifties. You plan to compete in catch for a long time!

- Artyukhin: It could last a long time. After all, it's more of a demonstration of jumping and falling techniques. There are few surprises here.

- Interview: In other words, it's all pre-programmed. Is the outcome of the match a foregone conclusion?

- Artyukhin: Not always.

- Interviewer: Why did you go into catch?

- Artyukhin: For money. The last time I wrestled as a "classic" was in Novosibirsk, in '86. I lost to Sasha Karelin, I think, 1-2. Then I graduated from the Higher Coaching School and worked at CSKA. But something wasn't working out... And then they invited me into catch. Do you know how many former athletes, after retiring from professional sports, can't find a place for themselves in "civilized" life? Some turn to drink, some become racketeers. And then there's work...

Interview with Andrey Slushaev (15 January 1991)

One of the last two Soviet guys to wrestle in NJPW being interviewed a month after his final Japanese tour.

- Interviewer: Andrey, tag team matches are something new...

- Slushaev: Not new, but a very popular and spectacular thing. Two opponents wrestle in the ring, and their partners come out as if they were substituting. Timur Dzarasov and I have worked on many spectacular moves. The Japanese complimented us, saying that we had truly become professionals.

- Interviewer: Anyone who saw these performances, I think, guessed that these weren't athletic competitions, but rather fixed fights. And if that's the case, then the wrestlers' bread and butter probably comes easy.

-  Slushaev: On the contrary, wrestling is hard work. Of course, the matches are scripted, but only exceptionally well-prepared and trained guys perform in public. During my time competing in Japan, I had a dislocated arm, a broken jaw, and numerous other injuries. We know we entertain the crowd, but they don't know how we spend hours in the locker rooms, completely exhausted, licking our wounds. We had a tough performance schedule. We'd get up at six in the morning, and then take the bus to the next city. There were some very long journeys, and the temperature difference could reach thirty degrees (for example, when traveling from southern to northern Japan). Mandatory daytime training, and late evening, matches in the ring, sometimes several. And so on for eight days straight. The American team had a new talent: the 165-kilogram guy. He's a real giant, a sea of ​​strength and pressure. According to the script, he would pick me up, weighing over a hundred kilograms, and throw me. I would throw myself at him from the ropes. What kind of imitation is this? This is a sport for brave men! Trust my feelings: I prepared for each performance in the same way as before, when I competed in our wrestling tournaments.

Interview with Vakha Evloev (2002)

- Interviewer: I heard you also did wrestling - professional wrestling, incredibly popular in the West. How did that happen?

- Evloev: After retiring from professional sports, I was one of the first Soviet athletes to go abroad under contract - to Japan. Back then, the wave of international departures was just beginning: Slava Fetisov went to play hockey in America, and we went to the Far East. I want to clarify right away: wrestling, or catch, is not a real sport. First and foremost, it's a show, and a high-quality one at that. All the events in the ring are prearranged, and the outcome of the dramatic events that unfold is predetermined. However, the spectacle still generates enormous interest among the public, who happily shell out money. Catch is especially popular with children, for whom stars like the famous Hulk Hogan become idols and role models. Incidentally, in 1989, we managed to organize wrestling matches between Soviet, American, and Japanese wrestlers. In general, in my opinion, catch is a great opportunity for athletes who are finishing their professional sports careers.

Interview with Victor Zangiev (2012)

This interview is not from the press, but rather from a Russian pro wrestling website (beware of pop-up ads if you click that link!), and it covers more than just NJPW. Zangiev has given several long-form interviews over the years, although usually to people not all that familiar with pro wrestling. What I like about this particular interview, and why I decided to share it, is because it was done by someone who was a pro wrestling fan and was asking pro wrestling questions.

- Interviewer: You started wrestling professionally in 1989. How did it happen that a Soviet wrestler started competing in Japan?

- Zangiev: We ourselves didn't expect such a turn of events. I ended up there for reasons I'd rather not talk about. There was no coach to help me progress. I could have easily become an Olympic champion. I was on par with everyone else, but there was no coach, no support for the future. There was a group of people besides me who also couldn't decide on their future. The judo team, freestyle wrestling, and classical wrestling. The Japanese arrived, made arrangements with the State Sports Committee, and held two training camps. They chose based on their own criteria.

- Interviewer: So they knew what they wanted from the start?

- Zangiev: I have no doubt about it. The Japanese take things so seriously, it's worth learning from them. They're very meticulous, very professional, and when it comes to something serious, they spare no expense. They held two training camps, and I was young and agile, so I was at the forefront. Salman Hasimikov, a four-time world champion, was a giant among us. He was the oldest. And I was young and agile, so they focused on us, and we were among the first.

- Interviewer: Did Antonio Inoki contact you personally?

- Zangiev: Antonio Inoki was the first. He came personally, organized, watched, and chose. I think the final decision was his. He was a real leader, he had his own TV channel, and I even heard that he has connections in the Japanese parliament. He has a lot of connections, a lot of sponsors. He decided to bring them in as well.

- Interviewer: What was the initial proposal? In terms of performance, in terms of style...

- Zangiev:They showed us a few things, we tried them out. Then we started traveling regularly for five years. Priorities and style changed, the influence of MMA was already noticeable, the matches became more, so to speak, bloodthirsty. The spectators demanded blood, so that everything would be as close to reality as possible. The Japanese themselves explained why everything was like that. They have a high urbanization rate, and the Japanese are essentially under pressure, constant pressure. After that, they come to the arena, root for their fighter, see how he endures, how they twist and turn him, how blood flows. They empathize with the fighter, and when he starts winning, the person sees in him some kind of support in life, some kind of incentive. That's why the arenas there were always packed. I remember the first two shows at the Tokyo Dome. They recouped all the investment in those shows. There were about 60-70 thousand people. Everything was top-notch, with airships and everything. The first time we saw it, we were even at a loss. We came out and started wrestling... It was hard at first, but then it became normal, we got used to it.

- Interviewer: Before you joined NJPW, had you heard anything about pro wrestling? About WWE (WWF), for example?

- Zangiev: No, I hadn't heard anything.

- Interviewer: How long did they train you in the dojo, and what exactly did they teach you?

- Zangiev: I was constantly dizzy. It was like this: you jump up and fall on your back from five feet. Physically, even the older guys found it difficult, and even more so for me. The training was conducted on wrestling mats. If you were afraid, they would say: throw your legs out and fall. And that's how it was for almost the entire training session. You fell, fell, fell, fell... You were learning.

- Interviewer: How long did you train in the dojo?

- Zangiev: We trained there for a month. Then we returned to Moscow, it was easier there. Well, and then all these combinations, all of it was worked on. I came up with a lot of it myself - the runs, the transitions to submissions…

- Interviewer: One of the hallmarks of mastery in wrestling is making your opponent look better than they actually are. How difficult was it to adapt in terms of style?

- Zangiev: It wasn't that difficult for me, but every job has its nuances. For example, with strikes, you had to work more realistically, with more contact. But at the same time, if you really hit someone, there's nothing left of them. It's very delicate work. There was a Japanese guy who immediately did a backflip after a strike, and it was so impressive! The Japanese started wrestling when they were still kids. They were forced to do a thousand squats. Through these squats, they learned to distribute their weight correctly. They cried, they were hit with bamboo sticks, and then you look - a year later, the person is completely different. They are flexible, they jump, and their muscles are pumped up. They had some kind of incentive, including financial. Those who made it to the top received $50,000, and that was for just one show.

- Interviewer: Did you change your style depending on the promotion - for example, more physical wrestling in NJPW and more grappling-based in UWFi?

- Zangiev: Actually, the style was pretty much the same everywhere, but you had to constantly learn and improve.

- Interviewer: What did the promoters tell you in terms of restrictions? What advice did they give you? Did they tell you to absolutely avoid doing something?

- Zangiev: No, it was simpler. If they saw that someone was popular and doing well, they'd give them advice, sit down and analyze them, and tell them what to do and what not to do. It was certainly very interesting. I'd been wrestling for 10-15 years before that, and I still do, and what we went through there was an incredibly interesting experience. We improved, constantly moving forward. There were such combinations there, sometimes you watch them and it seems like you can't even wrap your head around it. And then you do it and it seems to work.

- Interviewer: Few people know, but the very first pro wrestling show in our country was way back in 1989. On 31 December 31, the NJPW Martial Arts Festival took place in Moscow's Luzhniki. Among the participants were Bam Bam Bigelow, Jushin Liger, and Antonio Inoki himself. Can you tell us about that show? Is it true that the Japanese considered the show a failure and that's why they never held a show in our country? Or was it political?

- Zangiev: I don't think it was a failure. Everyone really enjoyed it. I know fans approached some of the guys with tears in their eyes, asking, "How could you lose?" It was that real. The stadium was packed. I don't think politics were involved, it's more likely that something didn't work out financially, or they saw some difficulties, or they didn't see a continuation, or they had doubts about something... We don't know for sure, but the festival itself went very well. People came up to me and just cried: "How did you lose, how did this happen?" They were worried... And my ending was like this... I jump, I miss. An unfortunate mistake, and that's it...

- Interviewer: Do you know anything about the organizers on our side?

- Zangiev: We had the State Sports Committee on our side. We were awarded a contract, and there were other serious cyclists with us who had won the Tour de France. Their contracts were no smaller than ours. The State Sports Committee created a subsidiary organization. I know that when the money was transferred, there were 10-15 cars parked outside the State Sports Committee, all foreign cars. The officials immediately put everything into circulation.

- Interviewer: So these weren't private sponsors, but a state organization?

- Zangiev: Yes. It was a breakthrough. Even when we went to Japan for the first time, there were a bunch of people with us who monitored us, making sure we didn't stay abroad.

- Interviewer: Were there any restrictions from the Soviet leadership, for example, that Soviet wrestlers had to win?

- Zangiev: No, nothing like that happened. But I remember one time when one of our guys cursed during a match after getting punched in the teeth. And then there was a whole discussion about it: "You Soviet people, swearing, discrediting the image of a Soviet citizen." To which the guys replied that if they had gotten punched in the teeth themselves, who knows what they would have said. Well, it just slipped out of the guy's mouth. So there were people who didn't particularly stand out, but they kept an eye on us, making sure we didn't do anything stupid and stay behind in Japan.

- Interviewer: Did you make any connections in NJPW, and do you keep in touch with them at least occasionally?

- Zangiev: I used to be close... My only regret is that I didn't manage to learn Japanese properly. I spoke English. Now I don't keep in touch, it's difficult. I always tried to communicate, even inviting people, saying, "Let's go eat, I'm treating you!" But they still act somehow cautiously, don't let anyone get too close. They're generally closed people. We don't have that, that's the Russian soul.

- Interviewer: Did it make a difference to you whether you worked with an American or a Japanese?

- Zangiev: No, not really. The Japanese have a very clear attitude to work. You were friends with the Americans, there were a lot of funny moments.

- Interviewer: Speaking of which, you had a match with the American Buzz Sawyer. Buzz Sawyer was into drugs and often behaved inappropriately both in and out of the ring. Did you witness any of this behavior?

- Zangiev: Well, he was certainly outrageous. He'd yell, "Sister, scramble!" and swear all over the ring! We got along well, though; I even have a photo of him. I think he had some kind of ranch, raised horses. A good guy.

- Interviewer: So, it was more of an image?

- Zangiev: I think so. This guy came to visit us, I don't remember his name. He fought somewhere in Vietnam. And he kept showing his scars. We went to a restaurant that evening, and it was really rough there in the 90s. This guy named Lyokha "the Frenchman" was sitting there, and no one could move without his permission. So we went in, and Bam Bam Bigelow was already sitting there. And this guy sat down. He saw vodka! He started drinking. He drank two bottles, and then it all started. He started doing somersaults, right there in the restaurant, went up to some woman, showed her his ass. Basically, it was terrible! We were sitting on the floor below, and Lyokha was upstairs. He sent his guys to find out what was going on, and we went up. We arrived, and I said, "The guys were just drinking. Okay, sit down, he says." The American sits down, and Lyokha says to him, "Well, let's be bros." The American extends his hand, and Lyokha takes the knife, barely slashes his own hand, and then cuts his wrist pretty good, too. So, we were driving him to the hotel at night… The FSB guys are screaming, "The American's been stabbed!" I told him no one stabbed him, he was eating a steak and the knife slipped. I quickly put him in the car and drove to Botkin Hospital. We go in, and this little woman comes out – why aren't you sleeping at night?! She grabbed his hand where the cut was and led him like a bull in a ring! He runs out five minutes later, his eyes like five rubles, and races to the car. It turns out he couldn't explain to her what happened for five minutes, so she stitched him up right there, without even a second thought! Then, two years later, when some guys came to visit us, he was walking around proudly: Russian mafia, Russian mafia!

- Interviewer: There are rumors that the management and some of the NJPW wrestlers are connected to the Yakuza. Have you encountered this?

- Zangiev: Those aren't rumors. The Yakuza is a legitimate organization there. They often came to shows, dressed to the nines, with fox fur collars. Very serious guys. And they went to sumo, they were always at those events. 

- Interviewer: Did they have any influence or, on the contrary, support?

- Zangiev: They were into sports, sumo for example. We even got to train with the sumo wrestlers. And people from that organization usually occupied the front rows, the most dangerous ones. And if that 200-kilogram carcass fell on someone and they were carried away on a stretcher, they were considered a true hero! Like a blessing from above!

- Interviewer: Few people know, but you also wrestled in WCW at Starrcade 1990 in St. Louis. You had a tag team match with Salman Hasimikov against the Canadians Danny Johnson and Troy Monto, and then against Masa Saito and the famous Keiji Muto. Can you tell us more about that show - who invited you, how were you treated backstage?

- Zangiev: Well, first of all, in America the approach was a bit different. We arrived and didn't know where to go. Someone called and said, "Go there." Basically, Salman and I were on our own, without anyone else. There were a lot of local stars, Sting and the like. Fantastic guys! I remember Sting performing in Tokyo and was as thin as a stick. And then, when I arrived in the US, I felt someone pat me on the back and smile. I turned around and saw - wow! - such a mountain of muscle! I didn't even recognize him. He'd definitely gained 60-80 kilos. A big back and waist, he stood like Apollo. I don't even know what they did to him... And what surprised me was that there were so many people and everyone was in such a good mood! Well, why not? People come, like in the movies. They find a certain point and empathize just like that. In terms of organization, the people there are, of course, also serious; it's big business after all. Hulk Hogan and the others are very serious guys. The women were also very pumped up!

- Interviewer: Were you invited there through the Japanese side?

- Zangiev: Yes. They tried it, but as far as I understand, they didn't like it. For me, as a wrestler, everything is more subtle. With us, everything was on a tactile level - I feel it, I perform a move. There, they have a mountain of muscle, and it reacts differently, so it was difficult to combine the two. Our moves are precise, and they are more acrobatic, striking. I felt that there was no chemistry between us, so to speak. Maybe it would have developed if we had come back... But overall, it was interesting. I was walking around the city, people recognized me - oh, Zangiev, hi, well done! A lot of black people came. I've been to St. Louis twice, I wrestled at the World Cup... So I know this city well.

- Interviewer: Starrcade was very rich in wrestlers who were either already legends or would become legends later. Among others, the show included the Steiner Brothers, Konnan and Rey Misterio, Norman Smiley, Sid Vicious, Ricky Morton and Robert Gibson, Michael Hayes, Lex Luger, Arn Anderson and Sting. Did you talk to any of them? Did you even watch other wrestlers' matches?

- Zangiev: I remember Luger and Rick. But otherwise, so many years have passed...

- Interviewer: You haven't talked?

- Zangiev: Well, life was so restless back then. It would lead you here, then there. I'd like to write... It's a shame there was no Internet back then.

- Interviewer: Did any wrestlers or promotion owners approach you after the matches? What did they tell you?

- Zangiev: They gave us envelopes, and the next day we were resting. At that time, one of the guys says - some kind of message for us... And I say - what message? "Message!" I read it, and it said, "You must be there at such-and-such a time." We barely made it, flew to New York, and were lucky enough to buy tickets through Stand-By, go to Brighton Beach, and meet some Jewish guys. So lucky - I walk into a restaurant, and there's Mikhail Shufutinsky singing, Lyubov Uspenskaya. And Muslim Magomayev and his wife, the opera singer Tamara Sinyavskaya, were also traveling with us.

- Interviewer: Japanese wrestling has a so-called strong style, meaning it's more hands-on compared to Mexico or the US. Am I right in thinking that you actually found it more comfortable working that way?

- Zangiev: Of course! It's tougher, the wrestling is tighter, and there's more movement. Of course, it's easier. Pretending is harder. It's more realistic here.

- Interviewer: Am I right in thinking that matches were intuitive back then? You communicated during the match, and only discussed the ending in advance?

- Zangiev: It used to be intuitive, we only knew the ending. I did this for five years, and after the first year, anyone could just touch me and I could feel what, where, and how. To develop that feeling... We performed every day, regardless of the weather, and for the first year, we traveled practically every day. By train, boat, plane... It was only later that we started flying once a month. That experience was, of course, fantastic! We train in the morning, go to a match, and if possible, train again, then have another match, and so on for five or six years straight. One year of this work and you can do everything intuitively.

- Interviewer: How different was your experience in NJPW compared to your experience in UWFi as a wrestler? And is there a difference in the attitude in the locker rooms in these two promotions?

- Zangiev: Well, they're a continuation of each other. The same people organized both. Some development is necessary; time goes by, and for things to improve, you need to separate the baskets, so to speak.

- Interviewer: How did other wrestlers treat you? Was there a certain disdain for wrestlers from other countries in Japan, or was there more respect or maybe even interest?

- Zangiev: It's very difficult to fully understand the Japanese. He might not treat you as well, but he still smiles. There was no open disdain. Overall, it's a very comfortable country. We always flew first class, and there was a guy following you the whole time, a young wrestler who needed to grow, so to speak. You'd drop your bag, he'd pick it up and carry it for you. Sometimes there were tough matches, where you'd sit there completely exhausted for half an hour, and then someone would untie your wrestling shoes. You'd give him your things, he'd carry them, and wash them. That's the system.

- Interviewer: Sometimes newcomers to the industry are subjected to a kind of test, when during a match they start going full-contact or applying full-force submissions. Has that ever happened to you?

- Zangiev: We had a serious case like this. One of our guys came out, I won't say who. He's a serious wrestler, but you wouldn't know it from his appearance. And the American was a towering two-meter-tall man. Our guy grabbed him, and the other guy, bam, couldn't do it, he was out of breath. There was this wrestler named Vader. I went out with him, struggled with him for three minutes, and he weighed 180 kg... So he just hung on my arms. "You're strong," he said. It's just that we have a different style, our muscles work differently. We do viscous, drawn-out work. He can bench press 10 times 200 kg, but then he came out and after two minutes he was gone. And then the same thing happened. The American got nervous and started hitting for real. Then we jumped out, and a real fight broke out. This was in Japan. We were later called to the mat, and the kid he hit grabbed a pair of scissors and ran after the American. It was a serious scandal, but it never happened again. Americans are generally friendly. We drank some beer and hushed it up. We didn't come here to kill each other! Well, it was an incident, no big deal.

- Interviewer: If I'm not mistaken, you were in NJPW in '89-'90, and in UWFI in '94. What happened in between?

- Zangiev: I was traveling around Japan all that time. Up until '94. Then, when we started wrestling in UWFi, I took a serious beating, they knocked out two teeth. I covered up from the first punch, but the second one took me and I was gone. I remember spitting out blood, and they put me on an IV afterwards. After that, I really wanted to quit. I wrestled a couple more times after that... I wasn't afraid, but I thought, if I lose touch with reality, what's the point of all this money?

- Interviewer: Japanese fans are known for their unique reactions, unlike those of fans in other countries. They're quieter during matches, but they still react to every move and are very respectful of the athletes. What are your impressions of Japanese fans?

- Zangiev: Absolutely fantastic! No matter where we were, we felt like stars. There were tons of young people everywhere, all eager to get our autograph. Security wouldn't let them in, but they'd still get through. You're sleeping in a hotel at night, and there's a knock on your door. It's kind of awkward to refuse, when someone comes in and wants a photo... And I've had a lot of photos like that, where I'm sleeping, and a Japanese guy comes in, lifts my hand, I grab him, and he takes a photo with me. There was one episode that made me laugh for a long time. This Japanese guy arrived in a car and grabbed me somewhere on the street. He said he was with his mom and dad, and he had a little room on the second floor covered in wrestler posters. He knows them all; in short, this guy lives for it. We went with him, and he treated me to something at a restaurant. When we got back, we saw that he'd left his shoes behind, probably out of excitement! He left without them and never came back for them! There was a time when I was supposed to limp, according to the script, and Salman said, "I'll be working hard again, and you..." Then they made me sign posters - my signature "USSR + 100kg" and my signature. The poster cost about 40 bucks and it sold like hotcakes!

- Interviewer: And do you notice the fans' reaction during the match?

- Zangiev: Of course! They always cheer you on; you can always feel the crowd. It's also funny, their announcers have interesting voices - they suddenly switch from a low to a high voice, and the whole crowd instantly gets fired up. Interesting! I think they react that way because they're more reserved in real life, but in the arena they can be more relaxed and emotional. For them, it's like an outlet for pent-up energy.

- Interviewer: Speaking of Japanese fans, they have a few traditions that are strange to us. For example, they give the wrestler a towel to wipe his face, and then return the towel, which becomes an object of worship for them. What strange things did you encounter in Japan for a Soviet person?

- Zangiev: Well, there weren't any strange things at all. Although, for example, you leave the arena, or arrive at the hotel at night, and they're standing there, waiting. Even the girls. They don't sleep all night, hiding somewhere in the restrooms, just waiting for you to sign.

- Interviewer: One of the most authoritative American wrestling magazines, Pro Wrestling Illustrated, included you in the top 500 best wrestlers in 1991. You were in 71st place. Were you informed about this?

- Zangiev: First time I've heard of it!

- Interviewer: Did you have any political problems after performing in Japan?

- Zangiev: No, I didn't.

- Interviewer: Did you encounter condemnation or misunderstanding from your fellow [amateur] wrestlers?

- Zangiev: Well, of course, just like now, many said: "Oh, that's just clowning." But it's very hard work, respect that still needs to be earned. Even Karelin went. Everyone who could, went and tried. But I think it's art. Like a movie - people watch it and believe. When a person plays well, when it's presented well, it's, on the contrary, interesting. There's constant action. Even if one match doesn't work out, the second will definitely be good. These are serious guys there, they work hard. Personally, I respect all of this very much.

- Interviewer: It seems to me that in the 90s you were more popular in other countries than in Russia. Did that bother you?

- Zangiev: Well, I didn't even know where I was popular. Now I just feel that people are interested, they're finding out. Wrestlers come from New Zealand, Africa, I tell them who I am, they're surprised, they don't even believe me right away. Recently, one person came up to me in the center of Moscow and said: "I recognized you." I'm not hiding from anyone, but I'm not striving for popularity either. I believe that if you inspire someone with your example, it certainly won't hurt me, and they'll be pleased. My stance is simple: I work and don't interfere. This is my life. I've tried everything, I've traveled everywhere, but I always come back to this. I've had a lot of money, and I didn't even earn it in wrestling, but it doesn't bring the same satisfaction as working here. Working with children takes all the negativity away and you feel happy.

- Interviewer: If you happen to come across WWE (on TV, online) or some other promotion, can you watch it or are you no longer that interested?

- Zangiev: Yes, I can watch it. Well, it depends on the masters, of course. Some are so-so, but some are really impressive. Their moves are interesting. It’s immediately obvious who’s a master and who’s not.

- Interviewer: We can’t help but ask about the character Zangief from Street Fighter. Could you tell us more about who contacted you about creating a character for a video game and when?

Zangiev: No one contacted me. It’s just that when we signed the contract, it said All Rights Reserved. They looked at who was the most popular and chose me. I found out about the game later.

- Interviewer: Were you entitled to royalties? Was it a one-time payment or did you receive royalties over the years based on game sales?

- Zangiev: No one asked us then, we just signed the contract and were happy. Everyone wanted to be there, after all. We were paid $700 a month*, and everyone was happy. Back then, it was difficult to leave the country, let alone go to Japan. I remember how much they vetted us...

* Note from Phil: I believe he misspoke or misremembered here and it was $700 a week, not a month.

- Interviewer: And were there people who turned down the offer?

- Zangiev: No. The only thing was, we had Ivan Karapetyan. He wrestled well, but his weight was high, a bit heavy. The Japanese said: "Lose the weight, then we'll take him". Well, he didn't eat anything for a week, didn't come with us. We thought: "What's going on, Vanya's not here". And our food was good. Then Berkovich says: "Let's have another sausage?" Well, let's go. The four of us go up to the cafeteria at the Sport Hotel, and the barmaid says: "Why are you always taking two sausages?" Berkovich asks: "Did someone else eat more?" "Yes," he says, "One of your guys came in here - 40 sausages and a case of Pepsi-Cola!" We dropped everything and went to Vanya's. We ran in - no sausages, no Pepsi! And Vanya was like, "Fuck Japan!"

- Interviewer: You announced yourself to the world as a wrestler, showing everyone what a Soviet person is made of. As a computer game character, you won over fans all over the world, and to this day, your character is one of the most recognizable. Where else can Victor Zangiev make a name for himself and set a positive example?

- Zangiev: Well, that's my life - these children. I'm not in the spotlight, but I don't like being in the background either. I didn't manage to become an Olympic champion, but I'll still prove my worth. I had a very strong coach, Aslanbek Zakharovich Dzagoev. He trained about 25 Olympic champions. And many are convinced that that technology has been lost. But I believe I'm on the right path. I worked with the girl for two and a half years, and she became a three-time Russian champion. This is a fantastic result.

- Interviewer: I'm sure you've had a big influence on someone in life. Who did you look up to as a teenager? Or maybe someone influenced you at a certain point?

Zangiev: Well, of course there were people to look up to. There were a lot of respected guys on the Soviet national team. Levan Tediashvili, Yarygin... Our Soviet wrestling school, a lot of people.

- Interviewer: Do you have any interests besides sports?

- Zangiev: I'm learning languages. I'm starting to forget my English a little, German, and now I'm learning Farsi. I have a lot of Iranian friends. In general, I have a lot of interests. A person should constantly strive for something in order to develop. If you're stuck in one place, sometimes it's useful to change interests to discover new sides of yourself. This only benefits the person. And communicating with them becomes interesting and multifaceted. Even in something like training, you can improve for the rest of your life.

- Interviewer: Have you ever had difficult students (in terms of character) whom you re-educated? And how did you influence them?

- Zangiev: All my students are challenging. Each person requires their own approach.

- Interviewer: What advice would you give to our pro wrestlers?

- Zangiev: I think to promote this in Russia, we need to tap into the national character. Probably towards UWFi, towards reality, mixed martial arts. But in any case, it needs to be well-presented, everything needs to be professional. In Japan, it's a whole culture - the music, the show, and it all immerses you. It should be like a theatrical performance. So everything needs to be done professionally. If you can infect people, there will be a huge audience.