May 21, 2010


When I was a kid wrestling was different. There were few things better than staying up and watching Saturday Night's Main Event, Or getting up early on saturday mornings to watch Superstars of Wrestling. The 80's and early 90's WWF was an entirely different animal than what wrestling is today. You could barely find it on TV and even in the miracle that you did find it, you never got to see superstars wrestle. No titles ever changed hands. That was saved for Pay Per View events only. So the only thing you usually got to to see was a "superstar" beat up on jobbers like this:

The best was when there would be a tag team match of "superstars" vs. two random jobbers paired up together who you knew had never previously met, let alone ever wrestled together before, and it showed. They were there for the sole purpose of being warm bodies wearing tights for the stars to beat up on and ultimately pin. I used this same formula to transform my little sister into a jobber named Princess Pink basically so I had someone to beat up and practice my wrestling moves on when my friends couldn't play. Her joints and equilibrium have never been quite right since. Sorry Celeste.

Sex and steroids were out, and big, sweaty, fat guys like this were in and doing pretty well for themselves.

Guys like this didn't exist.

Back then this guy was referred to as "the worlds strongest man."

These clowns were our "superstars."

People paid good money to watch this:

Good guys, or, "faces," were in and chanted "USA!" Bad guys, or, "heels," were out. There was no blurred line between good & bad. There was also nothing you could even accidentally mistake as athleticism. Matches were lethargic and laughably bad. Believe it or not, there was actually constant heated debate on whether it was real or fake. In retrospect, in may have been the ugliest, unintentionally hilarious, waste of time, but what can I say? It was the 80's and besides bad fashion trends, bad music, and even worse hair, there wasn't a whole lot going on.
Wrestling has only gotten worse, much, much worse.

So on May 27th, to comemmerate another little piece of me dying, and the start of another season of So You Think You Can Dance, (aka, the female equivalent of professional wrestling), I will be contacting this blog's official advisor on all things "wrasslin". I will be catching up with Draven, a former amateur wrestler, pro wrestling historian, and friend of 25+ years, for my first "Celebrity Text Interview".
I will get his thoughts on my wife's controversial theory and debate the ugliest Pro Wrestling outfits of all time.

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