I had two local halls Liverpool Stadium and Belle Vue.At Liverpool I always arrived early so I could see the wrestlers coming into the hall.It was interesting to see which sort of cars they drove and an little insight into their personalities outside the ring.AT Belle Vue waiting for the show to start then suddenly March of the Gladiators beamed over the tannoy and you knew it was time.Still,to this day,when I hear March of the Gladiators I immediately think of Belle Vue.
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My local halls in Preston were fine, well the wrestling was, but I can't say there was anything I miss about them - other than no longer existing. As 1978 Kid commented once the Public Hall did have a very fine organ and, as I have said, the most uncomfortable balcony seats in existence.
One slightly related memory, at a push, but not to do with the halls. As a teenager in the second half of the 1960s I would cycle to Preston. Cycling around the suburbs there were lots of derelict buildings with fly-posted posters that seemed to go back years (in reality probably only a few). They fascinated me and I copied down these bills of years gone by.
At Wolves Civic Hall an indication of a potentially good match was when the other wrestlers gathered on the balcony near the dressing room to watch and pass not always complimentary comments
I looked forward to seeing the posters that were fixed to the ring ropes advertising the next weeks show.
used to go Wembley town hall. miss the Saturday night dance in 60s. strictly ballroom. if you pulled, the ladies used to expect to have their dancing shoes carried by you. I used to look kind of rakish in my 50/- tailor suite. some of tottie used to look like Josef kovaks. the romance of it all is now aa distant memory
Belle Vue March of Gladiators Romeo preceded by Pat Boone belting out she wears Red Feathers and the lingering aroma of the Circus Elephants still around at Easter.
All of it! A great night out for a very reasonable price (unheard of now) A throughly entertainig ‘sport’ from an era that was a privilege to have grown up in, unlike the mad place the world is now and the absolute crap hole London has become.