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My cousin watches professional wrestling, which appears to be a cat fight amongst male strippers. I used to watch WWF wrestling as a child with much glee as the bad guys tossed around the good guys with overblown rough-housing the likes of which I wasn’t permitted to engage in. Still, many a match was re-enacted in secret between myself and the aforementioned cousin, four years my junior, during outdoor play time. Many holds and manuevers involved many bruises and hard head rattling - the latter of which may be why said cousin still watches wrestling.

At 10 or so, I recall watching a match between Koko B. Ware and some guy that didn’t deserve a televised entrance to the ring whose named was forgotten immediately upon Koko making his appearance, to the screams and high fives of fans with “The Bird” by The Time from the Purple Rain soundtrack blasting through the arena. At this point, I knew Koko would start off even with, get hammered by, then rise like a jherri-curled-phoenix to colorfully beat the ass of this failed athlete.

Blissful ignorance passed away with a level of my immaturity, and soon other Cocoas intrigued me.

To his credit, wrestling has now embraced equal opportunity (if not the feminist spirit) by having “Divas” rolling around with each other and he does enjoy MMA as well - my preferred form of competitive violence outside of homoerotic dramatic interpretations of legendary Greek wars. I asked about the contradiction between this sport and wrestling, to which he replied that MMA is a sport while WWE is “sports entertainment“. Entertainment?

Most find sports entertaining enough, even an elitist nerd like myself. When Mike Tyson threatened to eat Lennox Lewis’s children, from his past actions, the kids seemed to be actually on the fucking line. Fortunately, fatherly love won out over exotic cravings. Sports rivalries already exist in full bloom, so why the extra dramatic flourish? When B. J. Penn is about to oxygen-starve some guy’s brain, I’m all in. If the opponent made cracks about barefooted poi-sucking lava-leaping Hawaiians, would this really make his asphyxiation sweeter … ok maybe it would, but WWE stays politically correct with a dozen variations of “On [date], at the nth [event title], I’m gonna kick you in the ass, repeatedly! Grrrr!”. He’s at a barbeque at the opponents house later that week to enjoy grilled tofu and bok choi to stay lean for their fight.

It’s a billion dollar enterprise, so is hair waxing - mainly from the business wrestlers give them. Athletic skill is required, but when the emphasis is on technical execution and flair in the telling of a story moreso than actual competition you’re watching a dancing exhibition. Could the average wrestler kick my ass? Dunno, I’ll check the script.

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