I'm a wrestling dork and I'm proud - 27 days

It's real

It was funny to see the "Chairman of the Board" Vince McMahon launch an appeal for all wrestling  sports entertainment fans to "Stand up for WWE" the other day. It's been unfashionable to like pro wresting since the dawn of time, and there are always going to be accusations flying around when so many wrestlers are dying young, suspended for taking drugs, and shagging each other.  Us grown-up wrestling fans have been standing up for WWE since we were kids, back when we thought it was real.

I reckon there is some relevance to the current theme of my blog here, as other than the A-Team, the wrestling was the first real example of Americana that I really bought into, before my wife.

I've been a big wrestling "mark" (the first and last stupid insider term I'll use in this post) since I was about 11 years old. We did get the wrestling on the TV in the UK back in the day, but it was the British stuff (see below), and it was dreadful, but when I caught my first WWE pay per view (Summerslam '88) I was hooked.

You're not going to see any northern lights suplexes here. Trivia - Big Daddy killed a guy with a big splash once. True.

It was actually 1991 when we watched the Silvervision VHS that my uncle had borrowed, and I must have watched it about fifty times, all three hours of it. I could probably recount the entire show, starting with the time limit draw between the Bulldogs and the Rougeaus, and Miss Elizabeth getting down to her undies to distract the Mega Bucks for the Mega Powers to win, and everything in between; like Rick Rude revealing a picture of Jake the Snake's wife on his tights, Demolition screwing the Hart's out of the tag titles after attacking Bret with a megaphone,  and the Ultimate Warrior twatting the Honky Tonk Man in 30 seconds.

The latter was what got me hooked. See, the thing about the Ultimate Warrior was that he took the idea of "cartoon wrestling" and exaggerated the fuck out of it. He was mental and superhuman, and had kickass face paint, which to an 11 year old is just awesome. Within an hour of watching the PPV I had the face paint on already (green and yellow).

So I was hooked, but didn't have cable, so the next few months consisted of me getting folk to record the shows for me, and Dad then got in on the act and started to buy a shitlload of videos (we still have them, and I'll be putting as many as possible on DVD!) and I was really swatting up on my Wrestling history, although there was no internet back in the day. Then I caught the ad for Summerslam '91 and I spent the best part of a month begging my cousin to let me watch the PPV live at his house (in hindsight I should have just asked my auntie, she wouldn't have asked for all my sticker collection).

Shock you to death.

It's the lead up to this PPV that reminds me of how I may have took the "suspension of disbelief" a bit too far. I knew that the wrestlers were characters, i.e. the Undertaker wasn't dead and the Big Bossman wasn't a police officer, but I believed the moves and the story lines were real. I therefore believed that the Mountie really did shock people with his cattle prod, and I also believed courtesy of a friend, that he'd killed someone with it. So leading up to the PPV I could only worry that the Big Bossman was going to die. I really did have at least one sleepless night about this.

Summerslam '91 was everything I expected it to be, with the Legion of Doom leathering the Nasty Boyz to win the titles, with the coolest move I had ever seen, and Bret Hart winning his first singles title, the intercontinental title from Mr Perfect. Sid Justice also power-bombed someone, and this was the first time I'd seen a power-bomb, and my fist thought was to check if the guy was still moving. However, most importantly, the Bossman nailed the Bossman slam and sent the Mountie to jail.



 The "do you want to see my finger" line is priceless.

Eventually my whole family caught the bug, and for the best part of a year Dad would produce a couple more WWF videos each week, until there was nothing in the shops that I didn't already have. Until we finally got cable, our only means of watching the PPV's (which were free in the UK) was to ask someone to record them. So most PPV nights would consist of me waiting until the scheduled end of the show, then running round to someones house to get the recording to watch immediately. If for some reason I couldn't watch the show that night, school the next day became really difficult, because I totally hate spoilers. I assault people who spoil.

I collected all of the original Hasbro action figures, and made my own set of championships, which I defended successfully on many occasions. I also played to the storyline aspect of the sport by "dropping" my title to someone on occasion, usually in the swing park, only to reclaim via the medium of rematch. My finishing moves were the perfect plex or the sharpshooter depending on whether I was a baddie or a goodie at the time.

Michaels) but the likes of the Rock and Mick Foley won me over again. But I have always considered myself a wrestling fan and I'm not, or never have been, embarrassed to say so.

he's behind you

Yes, the matches are choreographed. Yes, the men are wearing tights. Yes, the storylines are pretty camp and ridiculous. But that is what's good about it. It's ridiculous. It's part sport, part cartoon, part pantomime, and slightly more over the top than the sum of it's parts. It's good vs evil, David vs Goliath, USA v the World, and man vs dignity. I've gone from cheering on the good guys, to cheering on the bad guys, laughing at how stupid it all is, and now appreciating the work that goes on in and around the ring.

The production that goes into a two-hour live show is unbelievable, and the fact that these guys can pull off the moves they do, without killing themselves, constantly innovating new ways to pretend beat someone up, shows great intestinal fortitude. The politics and gossip from behind the scenes is also great, finding out who really are the divas . It's celeb gossip for guys.

Another great thing about wrestling is that I can watch it with my son, and relive the whole experience all over again, and he can even play with my collection of action figures, as long as he's careful.

So I couldn't give a flying fuck about Linda McMahon's senate bid, but I'll stand up for wrestling, and if you're not happy with that, I've got a couple of textbook suplexes, a double axe handle, and a face bite of fear for you.

So thank you WWE for....

making me laugh..........




making me cry.....

Macho King Randy Savage v. Ultimate Warrior at WrestleMania VII
- Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

making me puke....

and totally making me "mark" out........




And of course, starting a tradition of me fancying American women, ending with the perfection that is my wife. She'd totally distract the referee for me.