Shinya Hashimoto Breaks the Curse

August isn't a great time for Shinya Hashimoto.

At this point in his career, he is well and truly cemented as the ace of New Japan Pro Wrestling in the 1990s. He's clocked in two massive year long plus reigns as the IWGP Heavyweight Champion, stood at the top of multiple stadium main events through one of New Japan's most prosperous periods, but when playoffs season comes along, it never really clicks for the big man.

The G1 Climax has handed Shinya Hashimoto nothing but defeat since its inauguration in 1991, and sometimes it does so in truly brutal fashion. While Hash sees some moderate success by reaching the semi-finals in 1991 and even as far as the finals itself in 1995, his track record through the first seven G1s is shockingly uneven. In 1992, he drops in the second round to eventual finalist Rick Rude, which is still somehow better than dropping in the opening round to another finalist in Hiroshi Hase. 1996 might be one of the most shocking examples of his inability to collect himself for this major tournament: in a five-man round robin block, Hashimoto's only points come from a forfeit. Despite entering 96's G1 as the reigning IWGP Heavyweight Champion, Hashimoto loses every single match he actually has to step into the ring for.

In 1998, the G1 is once again a single elimination tournament. One loss takes you out of the whole damn thing, and Hashimoto's shown that even at the top of his game, he's able to eat three in a row during New Japan's most prestigious tournament. All of which is to say, that in the G1, absolutely nothing is guaranteed for Shinya Hashimoto. In the G1, everything has to be earned, plain and simple.

Even what looks like a gimme for Hash in the first round against Tatsutoshi Goto could turn into an upset. Career-long rival Genichiro Tenryu could have easily claimed another victory in the second round. In the semi-finals, there's Satoshi Kojima who's still on the rise in New Japan, but Hash has lost to young guns before in this setting (see his losses to Tenzan in both 96 and 97).

Meanwhile, Kazuo Yamazaki's path through the 98 G1 is arguably even more impressive. Yamazaki runs through the reigning IWGP Heavyweight Champion Tatsumi Fujinami in the opening round, then gets past two former IWGP Heavyweight Champions in Kensuke Sasaki and Masahiro Chono. The names there don't even paint the full picture: Yamazaki tapped out all of them in under ten minutes.

All these factors come into play when assessing the 1998 G1 Climax final: Hash's curse, Yamazaki's formidable charge through the tournament, but also the palpable atmosphere inside Sumo Hall. If you don't believe me, behold that singular fan in the stands dressed head to toe in Hashimoto's gear. A sign of fortune if I've ever seen one. One can't help but believe that tonight's going to be Hashimoto's at last, but absolutely nothing is guaranteed in the G1 Climax.

While I would describe my understanding of New Japan's strong style to still be ever expanding, this match feels rather representative of the style for me. At the very least, it's up there as one of the finest examples of what Shinya Hashimoto, specifically, got to bring to the company as its leading figure through much of the 90s.

There's a sparseness to this match that's really delightful to behold all these years later. Move-wise, you're getting some kicks, overhand chops, and little else outside a few bombs in the finishing stretch. But as with all the best Hashimoto clashes in his career, each movement is filled with such gravitas and consequence that it creates this intangible atmosphere of unpredictability in the air. These kinds of matches can turn on a dime, and it's breathtaking whenever it does.

In this match it translates into a general conflict between precision and power. Both men deploy kicks as a key foundation to their arsenal but they both function in different ways. Yamazaki's are probing and measured, testing the waters at Hash's leg before escalating into a full onslaught on the limb. There's a real focus to Yamazaki's attack here, first identifying the target then launching his attack. The problem for him, of course, is that he can not match Hashimoto's sheer force. When Hashimoto lands a kick, often to the upper body, they're enough to floor Yamazaki completely. And that's far from the only strike that Hasimoto has in his arsenal as he deploys a few truly wild, swinging overhand chops to the neck and chest that stunt Yamazaki's progress at multiple points.

The shifts in momentum in this match feel world-changing when they hit. And really, that's all down to the immense mastery of craft on display here.

Take Hashimoto, our protagonist here. When Yamazaki really catches him on that bad leg, his cries of anguish fill Sumo Hall. It's especially powerful when Yamazaki catches him on the knee cap, just charging into the limb to make the big man crumble, the leg having nowhere to bend to alleviate any of the impact. Has anyone in history ever cried out in pain a more masculine, impossibly valiant way? Hashimoto in pain sounds the way soldiers aspire to be in their final death throes. All valiant indignation and manly fervor. His physical selling holds for most of the match too, with these constant readjustments of his knee when he tries to land his signature kicks, or having to take a slightest pause to recover by the ropes when he creates enough space away from Yamazaki.

God, he's truly just the sickest.

Yamazaki's own selling functions perfectly for the role he's set to play here. He's just as vocal as Hashimoto, but he has the benefit of being the smaller man that bumps huge for some of those powerful kicks Hash throws. When Hashimoto catches him in the gut or sends him flying over the mat, it's just so satisfying to behold. So too is the pain Yamazaki feels in his neck and shoulders as Hash comes crashing down with those heavy hands of his. Yamazaki can stand and throw strikes at Hashimoto long enough to truly dent the ace, but if Hashimoto lets loose with a truly great kick, it has the ability to stop the former UWF wrestler dead in his tracks.

The sense of escalation in this bout is fantastic too, and plays right into the prestige of the G1 as a whole. After all, shoot style stalwart Yamazaki busts out a plancha to the floor here that stuns the crowd, and stuns me still to this day. It's this piece of offense that feels just enough out of his wheelhouse to signal the gravity of the occasion. With all the hard work Yamazaki does on the leg with his kicks and charges too, when he finally gets a real fucking grip on it and locks Hashimoto down on the mat, one can feel the sand maybe running out on Hashimoto's time in the G1 as it has every single time up to this point.

If it's a question of escalation though, that's the game that Hashimoto ends up winning in the end. While Yamazaki takes the big risk with his plancha, Hashimoto's final barrage is filled with risks. His kicks always put him at risk of falling into Yamazaki's grasp? The solution: throw his whole fucking body into a beautiful enzuigiri to wipe the man out. What Hashimoto's got in his pocket is his sheer size. What's a good way to utilize that size? Leap off the top rope to nail an elbow drop so powerful, both the Sumo Hall crowd and the commentary team that it's all fucking over. And my god, his final roar before nailing what might be the finest brainbuster of his career?

That's strong style, baby.

Hashimoto spikes Yamazaki into the dirt, and ends a seven-year dry spell in the process. It not only feels like Hashimoto has won the G1, in some ways, it feels like he's defeated the G1. Sheer determination of will and the hardest kicks in the game putting an end to misfortune itself.

Y'all can keep the Knicks, I've got Big Hash.

IS IT BETTER THAN 6/3/94? While I think that Misawa and Kawada's high drama approach earns them higher peaks than this, I'm just too charmed by how much Hashimoto and Yamazaki get out of their more refined approach. Maybe if Misawa had a cosplayer in the crowd in Budokan, I might have swung their way. This one's fairly close though so I might feel different any other day, for now I go with Big Hash.

Rating: ****1/2