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Fat Men and Their Foreign Objects

By Tom “Triple T” Waters
June 1 , 2004

Call me a geek because I don't find the idea of watching two oiled up grown men in one piece spandex man-handling each other interesting.

There was a time when I thought that the popularity of professional football was a clear indicator that the civilized part of civilization was on the way out. I was wrong. Football is only a mild fungus compared to the sensationalistic stupidity of 'professional' wrestling. The fans are a lot worse, the sport itself dumbs people down faster than a mallet to the medulla, and it's appeal is larger and more subversive than one could ever predict. Twenty years ago, it was a joke sport that aired on no-name cable stations on the weekends between reruns. Now it's everywhere. There is a 'Slam,'Bash,' and 'Fest' for every day of the week, every season of the year, and every holiday that can profit from a pay-per-view special. There is no redeeming value to wrestling. Football fans are stodgy intellectuals by comparison. Football itself has strategy, sportsmanship, and daring-do. What does wrestling have to offer? Fat men in leotards bouncing off of cushioned arenas. It is the pixie stick of the wide world of sports.

Just thinking about it makes me quiver with psychosis. A number of boy-men my age beg off of the fascination, rationalizing it's appeal as tongue in cheek. They're aware that the drama behind the scenes is fake, but they pretend to get into it anyway. Bull. High camp is Ed Wood. Tongue in cheek can be found in "Waiting for Guffman," "Mars Attacks," or even "The Larry Sanders Show" to some extent. Wrestling is about as tongue in cheek as "Buffy The Vampire Slayer." It's too lowbrow to achieve joke-within-a-joke status. The fans exhibit the same zeal that some housewives project towards soap opera characters when they refer to the actors by their character names. It's worse than a soap opera, because it pretends to be real. The plot lines are cartoonish, the acting is horrendous, and who needs a back story? Week in and week out the writers come up with reasons for two guys to go into a ring and jump up on top of each other. Watching one episode is one too many.

They say that it's harmless and fun. So is a lobotomy, and both have the same long term effects. Wrestling used to be a southern fascination for stupid people who had nothing to tune into since the Nascar season was over and they couldn't watch cars go around in circles anymore. Now it's spread around the globe and back like some diabolical STD. The Rock, a musclebound bonehead with about as much acting talent as a limp sponge, has starred in a number of films, guest hosted SNL, and released a best selling book. Who wrote it for him, a team of monkeys with a typing certificate? Agh!

There is zero intrinsic value to the squared circle. It's popularity triggers more rage for me than grown ups who try to convince me that Harry Potter is entertaining. At least Harry Potter leads some people to read. Perhaps it's the homoeroticism that never attracted me. Why do grown men whoop and catcall and reduce themselves to the level of beasts at these events unless they're sexually excited on some level? I refuse to be converted. Call me a geek because I don't find the idea of watching two oiled up grown men in one piece spandex man-handling each other interesting. I guess I missed that boat. The boat has sailed where I found it entertaining to see group after group of hairy, out of shape brutes locking beards and pummeling their appendages against each other. It's just not my idea of a fun night to see a guy hop off a large pole and bring the full weight of his bulk on top of another man. I wish I could say that that excited me but I can't. I wish that it drove me to buy goofy t-shirts and get tattoos with my favorite wrestler's name on my arm, but it doesn't.

My neighbor and my boss are constantly trying to talk me into watching wrestling with them. They're both partially reasonable men, so I forgive them their setbacks. I've been trying to come up with a subtle way of telling my neighbor that I despise wrestling and that it goes against the grain of everything I stand for. Most men I know who are into wrestling get together and watch it in private away from women. Why do you suppose that is? Guys sitting around whooping it up watching half naked men on t.v. just doesn't sound like my idea of a good time. I used to be a big fan of wrestling....when I was twelve. Then I grew up. Sort of.

Once in a blue moon I prefer to watch heavyweight boxing. There's actual training that goes into it and the outcome isn't predetermined. The contenders talk a little smack leading up to a fight but it has nothing to do with having their girlfriend stolen away or the other opponent blowing up their double wide trailer. They wail on each other without bumping uglies or gyrating against each other in a horizontal position. There's occasional hugging, but only when the boxers are exhausted. And no one in the audience wears trucker hats or large foam fingers. I prefer my sports-related violence with little or no gay overtones and extra doses of violence. Forget the fake blood and bring in more of the real stuff. I want to see eyeballs sealing shut and ears getting bitten off like appetizers. Show me stitches and roundhouses and uppercuts that knock jaws out of their natural placement. Anything other than smoke machines, theme outfits, and cage matches with leather-clad out of shape lummoxes breaking chairs over each others heads. I'll watch a weekend full of football before I tune in to Monday Night Soap Drop Massacre or WCW Buggery Friday. The closest I'll ever get to either in this lifetime is lubricated lesbian porn, which, unfortunately, is not a legitimate sport at the time this essay was written.

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