Eat Turnbuckle, Heel!

We had professional wrestling at our house last night. The girls put pillows on the floor and covered them with a blanket to create a ring in the living room. Moe gave each of the little kids ferocious identities for her promotion. I sense more than a little bit of Bobby "The Brain" Hennan in this child.

She was "The Night Wrestler", Puzey was "The Pink Freak", Peff was "The Critter", and for my personal favorite, Squizzle became "The Grumpifier".

I remain stunned by the imaginations of my children. The Grumpifier? Where on earth does this kid come up with this stuff?

They had several individual matches that involved leaps from the top rope (the couch)and enough submission holds to put the Iron Sheik, Nickolai Volkov, and Andre the Giant out of commission for eternity (or at least the next pay-per-view). The main event was a battle royal where "The Grumpifier" received a double-ax handle to the back of his skull. It was dirty pool, and it caused a chain reaction no one saw coming. The legendary "Revolting Slob" left the stands (as well as a lengthy retirement) to return fair play and deal the heavy hands of justice to the forces of havoc.

It was quite the evening and the show may go on the road if the price is right.

Afterward the Boss and I reminisced about the heady days of George the Animal Steele, Gorilla Monsoon, Mean Gene Okerlund and the boys.

"Remember when the match everyone wanted to see was Hulk Hogan versus Ric Flair to see who was the "real" Heavyweight champion of the world?"

She did not.

Growing up in a house with only sisters is not an environment conducive to Professional Wrestling exposure. But I remember. My brothers and I were mad for the stuff. Couldn't get enough.

Later on, I was watching hockey while waiting for the Boss's show to start. During a commercial, I noticed that there was something called TNA wrestling on Spike. "What the heck" I thought, and turned it on. The first thing I heard was "Pomp and Circumstance".

Now that song combines with the sight of the "squared circle" to activate the most juvenile portion of my brain (I said the MOST juvenile portion. I am fully aware that all of my brain is juvenile in one sense or another, so keep you smart alec stuff to yourselves). "Pomp and Circumstance" was the entrance music for my all-time-can-never-be-replaced-most-favorite wrestler ever; "The Macho Man" Randy Savage.

Suddenly eager with anticipation to see Mach go "Down that Aisle!", I nearly giggled.

"I can't believe this guy is still wrestling!" I shouted to the Boss. "He's got to be a hundred and ninety". Well, in steroid years; anyway.

****Editor's Note
I once went to a show here in Salt Lake. I coughed up thirty bucks to sit on the twelfth row at the E-center with my brothers and a bunch of buddies. When Macho came out, he was getting booed and heckled because he was playing a "heel" at the time. Not me. I was whistling and cheering like the Cubbies had won the series, and when it got quiet so he could take the microphone, I used my best coach voice to bust out an impersonation of his trademarked "OHHHHHH YYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAA!!!!!!!" growl that he used before he snapped into a slim jim or an opponents leg. He looked over to where we were sitting...pointed right at me...and gave us the growl. It was THE single greatest moment of my adolescence; even if I was in my mid-twenties at the time.
****

Alas, it was not to be. Some other punk was using the Macho Man entrance music. "He can't do that!" I hollered at the screen. "Only Macho can use that music. It's a rule. Someone needs to snatch that dude's Man Card. What a punk!"

That's why I started laughing when two dudes ambushed this usurper in the tunnel and beat down on him with a couple of folding chairs. He deserved it.

Disappointed I was not going to get to see my hero, I was nevertheless interested in who this poser was so I kept watching for a minute. Imagine my surprise when someone brought Ric Flair down the aisle in a wheelchair.

Stunned, I turned to the Boss who was now playing solitaire on her cellphone. "He looks terrible", I said. "Some guys don't know when to quit."

The Boss mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "HMMM", but probably meant "Grow up". Then all of a sudden, the Nature Boy hops out of his wheelchair like his butt is on fire, grabs a folding chair and starts hammering on the dude in the ring.

"Wow" I said for the third time in about forty seconds.

The only thing more mysterious than what was going on was why I was suddenly so interested.

Then IT happened. The camera swung to the top of the tunnel and right on cue, out stepped the Hulkster himself.

"Holy Cow!!" I started shouting, jumping nearly out of my seat. "Look at this, Hon! It's Hulk versus Flair; we were just talking about this! Right now... this very second! I don't believe it!"

"I don't believe it either", said the Boss patiently, but I'm not sure she was talking about the TV.

Unfortunately, the show started rolling the closing credits as the Nature Boy and the Hulkster glared at each other from thirty feet apart. It was soooo cool. I am absolutely tuning in next week. Vince and Jerry practically required it to keep my Man Card. Besides...now I want to.


I really, really need a hobby.