Rassling

 

Just the other day, waiting for my hair to dry, hoping the rain would come and wash down the pollen, between ‘Fresh Air’ and ‘Marketplace’, in a time should be productive but instead browsing the Internet looking for something other than videos of cops, protest, needles and cute kitties, there is my local newspaper promoting a section of videos of WWE WrestleMania 37.

I had a pause.

I’ve never been much of a follower of sports, and I’m not sure I’d call ‘rassling’ a sport, but here is was trying to get the interest of the scrolling eye a bunch of full color videos of the modern ‘rassling’ show.

I remember in high school there was a ‘Roman/Greco’ ‘rassling’ team. I never went to watch some guys who I went to class with roll around on the floor in girl’s bathing suits trying to sit on one another for a pin (that is a win). I thought it was creepy.

I understood the history of the Olympics with naked guys running and jumping but rolling around on each other never seemed ‘manly’ or a sign of courage or strength.

Football was about as masculine a sport that I’d watch. Big guys running around on a field knocking each other down but then they get up and do it all over again. In football they also wear clothes.

Still this is a brutal game of Alpha males proving themselves so they can wear a letter sweater.

There are lots of “sports” involving males competing with other males to win a cup or have the momentary privilege of being the Best! When running wasn’t fast enough, they raced cars. If soccer was too fast or football too weak, then rugby was invented. When cowboys weren’t machismo enough, astronauts rode rockets.

I remember ‘rassling’ came on black and white television on Saturday afternoons. It wasn’t the latest cowboy show but was better than watching tennis, golf or ping-pong.

From what I remember there were two cameras and a large warehouse. A row of bleachers held maybe 50 folks and a boxing ring was in the center.

Now boxing had been (and maybe still is) popular in the 50’s. A platform covered in canvas with corner poles connected with some elastic ropes and that was the stage for the performance. Some official guy in a suit would stand in the center of the ring and have a microphone lowered from the rafters. He would announce the contestants who entered the ring and stood in opposite corners until a bell would ring and they would come together and pound on each other. Sounds like fun?

It seems our species enjoy watching each other pummel themselves. The gladiators put on a show. Our armies have a time trying to wipe out each other. Now our movies are beyond the cowboys who would get shot only to appear the next week in a different outfit to smashing cars and buildings and splashing blood everywhere. No wonder we enjoy our snuff videos on YouTube.

Yet back in the day the contestants would climb up on the mat in bathrobes to hide their tightie whities speedos. When their name was announced, these big hairy guys would rip off their robes or capes and prance around the ring to the cheers of the crowd. Weird striptease.

There was always a ‘good guy’ and a ‘bad guy’ so you always knew who would win. Most of the moves were pushing each other into the ropes and then knocking them down. The point was to lie on top and get a ‘1-2-3’ count to win. Fairly simple and no one died.

 Then auto racing started to become an industry. Instead of a bunch of moonshiners racing in the dirt, the cars got painted and the drivers got uniforms and sponsors promoted and tracks got bigger and faster and television made time for audiences to watch cars drive fast and turn left.

So some smart folks at the ‘rassling’ management decided to follow suite and made two men in bathing suits throwing each other around to the cheer of the throngs to add fireworks, loud music, cameras, play-by-play announcers and made old hairy big guys into slim, handsome idols. ‘Rassling’ went from a sideshow curiosity to a circus.

The heroes were normally white handsome hunks identify a military or police while the ‘enemy’ contestants were Arabs, Russians or whatever culture the crowd would ‘boo’ upon entry. Good versus Evil.

There were the platinum blonde guys. There were huge giant guys. Sometimes they would team up together. Sometimes they fought in a cage. The ones who won could wear big metal incrusted belts as trophies.

Then the girls started to ‘rassle’ and then the contestants started becoming diverse. All the time each participant was becoming a story through magazines, promotions and locker room banter.

I watched my share of this process. It was funny, exciting and ridiculous. Even the stunts appeared to be fantastic were duplicated by dance troupes in music videos.

Yet, the repetition becomes boring.

So here is my local source of journalism attracting attention with a promotion of ‘rassling’. Back in the day, there would be an ad promoting an even in a local area but never a review or critique.

Does this show an attempt for readership or has society become so numb with war, riots, looting, high speed chases, plane crashes (etc.) to be drawn to watching men and women attempt to perform injuring each other for the viewers delight?

Where are the gladiators?

We who are about to die salute you.