For Jim. USA. A-OK.
Hulk Hogan got punched in the face by Ric Flair [who I effing love! WHOO!] the other day at some fake-ass press conference. I wasn’t really interested, and the fake blood didn’t do much except give me hope that Hogan’s face was actually marred.
Professional wrestling is falling off. I’ve noticed there hasn’t been much buzz about the “sport”. Unless you call Escape to Witch Mountain wrestling-related buzz. Was “The Rock” really that important? Did the name change to WWE kill the WWF? I wasn’t a conoisseur, but I miss the WWF.
Weren’t people more comfortable knowing that most rednecks/teenagers would be indoors on Monday nights? Football takes care of most mouth breathers itself, but wrestling was an added comfort blanket to do your grocery shopping on Monday nights or to take a nice walk without the fear of being harassed by people wearing cammo or those who still listen to ICP.
When asked what professional wrestler you would be, who would you choose?
Most people will naturally assume that I’m going to pick Eddie Guerrero. Not for racist reasons, people know I’m a sucker for mullets from south of the border. But, Eddie Guerrero’s character was too “vato” for me sometimes. I’m not a Chicano. I can’t relate to someone who’s supposed to like Impalas and say “carnal” in a non-ironic way. Also, Eddie got big outside of the optimum age in which someone falls in love with the WWF, 6 – 12. Oddly enough, he got huge during the Era of Latin Fever circa 1999-2002. That era was great. Latinos could do no wrong. They pumped out dance hits and were free to cross the border. Not anymore. I miss you, Ricky.
In fact, I always identified with the unlikeliest guy, Hacksaw Jim Duggan. He was the guy who finished people off with his 2 x 4. He held the American flag HIGH AND PROUD! HE WAS THE FUCKING MAN! You knew his “thumbs-up” and salute meant something.
Not only was he an agent in the ueber-American machismo which ruled entertainment in the 1980s and 1990s, he was everything Ronald Reagan and Herbert Hoover wanted wrapped in one neat bearded package. He was the rugged individualist that could build a house in two days alone. He loved his country, kicked ass, “hiyo”-ed like a hammerhead, hated immigrants and probably voted Republican.
I always saw Hacksaw as the manifestation of wrestling’s audience. I could see some schmo from West Virginia getting into the ring and acting exactly the same. He allowed us into the arena of people like Brett “The Hitman” Hart, who was so “mod” that he wore “Jubilee” style sun glasses throughout his career. He wrangled with Randy Savage –“Macho Man”! But, Jim was just Jim. He was some lovable lug, with a beer belly and a penchant for carpentry and carpentry material.
I was like Jim growing up. I loved the United States so much . My parents hadn’t broken me in, yet. I loved carpentry. I feel I’m naturally slated for that. And, I loved underdogs. I felt like one. He was one. He never really won anything. But, he was always in the mix.
It was nice to see some out-of-shape guy go to work on people who clearly cared too much about their bodies. He was All-American. I wanted to be All-American. He was essentially, Jim Duggan the Cable Guy starring in Delta Farce. Much like Larry the Cable Guy, Jim wasn’t so over the top to begin with. He was run of the mill guy within some lame-o tag team, but he, and the WWF, quickly realized that he needed to do more. He needed to get himself out there and push for the minds of people who just loved America and hated muscles.
In a sense, I miss the WWE. I don’t ever catch it. I might see a re-run in Spanish on Telelmundo, but I never actively seek it out. Football and soccer have overtaken my spectator sports life. It seems like MMA is taking its market share recently. It’s so brutal. You can’t help but watch. The one thing that the WWE will always have over UFC or WEC is that these guys have personality. They have pizazz. They have the acting bug, but also have the faces and bodies of henchmen. They are fun to listen and watch. Listen to Kimbo Slice speak and tell me you’re not terrified that he might be in your city soon. Listen to Triple H speak and you might want to sit down and have a beer with him. As menacing as he might try to seem, he’s just putting on an act. He’s wearing a suit. Shit, he can’t be serious.
I just wrote a post about fucking wresting…
I can’t be serious,