Let’s get something clear right off the bat: I know
wrestling is fake. I’ve known wrestling is fake for the better part of the 28
years I’ve been watching it. Sure, there were some times during the early years
where I thought George South was actually going to beat Arn Anderson for the
NWA TV strap and, sure, I was slightly devastated when King Kong Bundy attacked
Hulk Hogan leaving the real American lying motionless in ring after countless
big splashes on Saturday Night’s Main Event. I may have even shed a tear when
my beloved Road Warriors turned on Dusty Rhodes by shoving a metal spike into
his eye possibly blinding the American Dream for life. But as I grew older and
became wiser to the product I realized that this was all part of the huge male
soap opera that professional wrestling/sports entertainment is. They feed you
the bait. They lure you in. They get you to want to watch and see what happens
next week.
And I’ve been tuning in “next week” for the past 28 years.
I’ve seen wrestling through the high points and the low
points. I started out as an NWA guy watching he likes of Ric Flair, Dusty
Rhodes, the Rock n Roll Express, Baron Von Raschke, and Lex Luger. I also
gravitated towards WCCW with the legendary Von Erich family (before they all
died), Rick Rude, Chris Adams, and the Fabulous Freebirds. Heck, I would even
tune into ESPN in the middle of the afternoon to catch some AWA action with
Larry Zbyszko, Nick Bockwinkle, and a very young Shawn Michaels as part of the
Midnight Rockers.
But the main show of the day and, with the exception of
about a year and a half in the mid 90’s, the consummate pro wrestling benchmark
was the WWF. Now known as the WWE, the WWF took the smoky bingo hall wrestling
that previous generations had known and transformed it into a testosterone
driven broadway spectacle. Guys like Hulk Hogan, Roddy Piper, Andre the Giant,
Junk Yard Dog paved the way for younger guys like Bret Hart, Shawn Michaels,
Steve Austin, HHH, and the Rock to do what they did on a worldwide stage; a worldwide
stage that has generated billions of dollars and a publicly traded company for
Vince McMahon.
Not bad for a bunch of juiced up rednecks rolling around on
the ground in their underwear.
The truth is, I love it. I love the simplistic storylines. I
love trying to guess what is going to happen next and tuning in the next show
to see if I’m right. I love the pageantry. If you’ve never sat down and watched
a WrestleMania I highly suggest renting a DVD at least once and watching it.
The production and presentation are beyond compare. The wrestlers try harder,
take more risks, and put on a show worthy of the Super bowl, World Series, Stanley
Cup, and Daytona 500 of professional wrestling.
Yes, it’s fake.
But I also know a shit ton about it.
Now, I’m probably the exact type of wrestling fan that Vince
McMahon doesn’t want. I don’t buy the merchandise. With the exception of a few
Royal Rumbles here and there, I don’t buy the PPVs. I also don’t go to the live
events. On the rare occasion when WWE comes to St Louis, I rarely even take
going to the event into consideration. I am only willing to pay so much money
for live events of any kind and that amount of money usually puts me in the
cheap seats. For things like concerts and such, the cheap seats are fine. For
wrestling, however, the closer you can get to the action the better. These guys
are “actors” and their facial expressions tell a story in the ring. Plus, the
chance of getting spit/sweat/bled on by one of your favorite superstars has a
certain redneck appeal to it. So, when I heard that WWE was bringing its
Extreme Rules PPV to St Louis, I didn’t even bother to worry about getting
tickets. I’d just hang tight and read the results on the internet the following
morning.
But that was before I heard the announcement.
A radio program that I listen to in the morning on 590 AM
(yes I watch wrestling AND listen to AM talk radio in the morning) announced
that they were giving away ringside – yes, RINGSIDE – seats to the PPV and all
I had to do to get them was to go to Hot Shots in Arnold, MO and answer trivia
questions on the history of wrestling.
DONE!
Had it been just regular tickets to the event I wouldn’t have
given it a second thought, but these were ringside seats. I stood the
possibility of sitting close enough to actually see them not hitting each other
with my own eyes. And, given my vast wrestling knowledge and attention to nerd
details, I was a shoe-in to win these things. I was sure of it. I even began
prematurely bragging to people that it was a lock that I was going to win.
So I promised to blog about it.
With that setup, I bring you to the actual day of the event
in real time fashion. To recap, I was going to a wrestling trivia contest. At a
bar. In Jefferson County, MO. I wasn’t sure what I was going to encounter when
I got there, but I knew it stood the chance of being backwoodstastic. Luckily,
I wasn’t terribly disappointed.
1:00 PM – Got back from my lunchhour and decided to do some
studying on various websites to test my wrestling acumen.
1:15 PM – finished my games of Candy Crush and got down to
the actual studying
1:18 PM – finished another game of Candy Crush after I was
given an extra life by my cousin, Ryan Harres
1:20 PM – went to Sporcle.com (greatest website ever) and
began taking WWE quizzes. Did pretty well. Simultaneously raised my arms in
victory and hung my head in shame. Being a wrestling fan with all of your teeth
and sleeves on your shirts is a conflicted existence.
2:15 – got a call from my wife where I had to remind her to
wish me luck on this all-important evening. She seemed anything less than
enthused in her response.
4:30 PM – left work while bragging to my co-worker that I
was probably in for a long grueling night of wrestling trivia but that I would
come to work tomorrow victorious. He was genuinely excited for me. I’m pretty
sure it was genuine. Maybe.
5:00 – arrived at Hot Shots. Surprisingly enough, I was the
only person that showed up two hours early for the event. There was a
smattering of people seated around the bar. There was also a smattering of
cloth covering the bartender’s ample bosom. Additionally, there was only a smattering
of teeth amongst the people and the bartender combined. Given the lack of
fabric covering the bartender’s chest, however, I’m surprised I even gazed far
enough north to notice her teeth or lack thereof either way.
5:02 – ordered a Stag, was served a PBR. Didn’t notice until
the boobs had made their way to the other side of the bar. Didn’t complain.
5:10 – Macho Man Randy Savage entered the establishment. “But the Macho Man’s been dead for a few years
now” you say. I know. That’s what I thought too. But there he was. The
sleeveless wonders around the bar that had no clue about the trivia contest
could do nothing but stare, mouths agape, toothless gums bared for all to see. 100%
in character he approached the boobtender and asked what time the trivia night
started. She laughed, jiggled a bit, and said that registration was going to
start around 6:30. His response? “6:30? Oh, yeah!!! Dig it!!” I was awed.
5:23 – I ordered a cheeseburger. I think. At least that’s
what she of the 75% exposed breasts brought me later on. I wasn’t going to
argue.
5:40 – Larry Nickel walked in. If you’re not familiar with
Larry Nickel (and there is no reason on earth that anyone really should be
familiar with him) he is a contributor to the radio show that was sponsoring
the event. Much like Howard Stern has his Wack Pack, this radio show has its
share of colorful characters that contribute on a regular basis. Larry Nickel
is one of those guys. He’s also one of those guys who believes wrestling is
real. And he’s older than I am. This is Larry. He was our emcee for the
evening.
5:45 I made a friend. This is the conversation we had:
Him: Um, so what’s going on here?
Me: I think it’s some sort of wrestling trivia thing
Him: Oh, I heard that was going on. Are you playing?
Me: Yeah, I guess. You?
Him: Yeah probably.
Me: It’s nice to meet someone as equally ashamed of what
they’re spending their evening doing as I am.
Him: What? Sorry, I was staring at the bartender’s boobs.
This man is my new best friend.
6:05 – Macho Man walked back in. Apparently he had just been
standing by his car in the parking lot with the doors open and the radio
playing. I mentioned to my friend that I hoped to God he was blaring the Macho
Man’s theme music from his car stereo. I didn’t go outside to check but made
the decision that if I had enough to drink I was going to get into that car and
cruise up and down Highway 141 with the Macho Man while screaming “Oh yeah” out
the window.
6:06 - In one of the most surreal moments of the evening,
Larry Nickel (who believes wrestling is real) comes face to face with the Macho
Man doppleganger and stops in his tracks. All of the air seemed to be sucked
out of the bar as the anticipation of what was going to happen next built to a
crescendo. Luckily for all in attendance the meeting went well, Larry didn’t
freak out at the possible ghost sighting, and they shook hands before parting.
6:15 – paid my tab at the boobs so that I could breast my
cleavage and move to another jugs by the contest on the other side of the
knockers. I was gonna miss her.
6:30 – picked up my sheet of 60 questions. The top three
scores out of these 60 questions would move on to the next round. I quickly
glanced at the questions and saw that I already knew the answers to the first 8
questions. This was going to be a piece of cake.
6:32 – realized I had no idea what the name of the stable
was that consisted of Owen Hart, Vader, and Yokozuna. Damnit!! Despite the
brief blow to my confidence I skipped the question and moved on with the self-assurance
that I would know the rest.
6:32:30 – realized I couldn’t remember where WrestleMania 30
was taking place. Crap!! That was two I might get wrong. Looking around I
noticed that instead of the redneck wonders I was expecting to see there were
actually quite a few normal looking people participating in the contest. I also
noticed, however, the guys wearing the wrestling t-shirts. Anyone in their
early to mid-thirties willing to wear a WWE shirt out in public was someone
that I knew would be competition. I counted about 6-7 or them and knew
immediately that I was going to have to answer every question correct to get
this. It was on. I put down New Orleans as my answer and planned to check my
phone for the answer immediately afterwards.
6:33 – Which one of Chyna’s friends did Mark Henry have a
liking for? What? When did this happen? I don’t remember this storyline.
Anything here will be total guess. Yes, this is one of those points where I’m
fully expecting you to judge me even more so than you have in the past
6:35 – Is Glacier dead or alive? I wrote alive but didn’t
have confidence. Since it was the last question I decided to skip it and go
back to check my previous work. I am a college graduate. I went through 8 years
of Catholic grade school, 4 years of Catholic high school, and 4 years at an accredited
university and at no point ever during those 16 years of education did I ever
once go back and check my answers on a test. Not once. In my defense though, my
teachers were never offering ringside seats.
After getting back to the Glacier question I crossed out my
answer, second guessed my second guess, and re-wrote “alive”.
6:38 – turned in my sheet knowing that I had at least two
wrong.
6:38:05 – got on my phone to check some of my answers. WrestleMania
was indeed happening in New Orleans and Glacier was, in fact, still alive. Boom!
6:38:45 – Rufus R Jones, however, is dead. Damnit. Three
wrong. There was nothing left to do now but wait.
6:45 – read on my phone that Dick Trickle had shot himself.
I quickly went up to the organizers of the event and let them know that there
could be a major reaction to that news amongst the patrons. We were, after all,
at a wrestling trivia contest, in a bar, in JeffCo. This could be akin to
Kennedy getting shot. Luckily, the news must not have traveled very fast as
nobody even mentioned it.
6:53 – Mike Lee just arrived. Much like Larry Nickel, Mike
Lee is another personality on the radio program and is famous for nothing othe
than being Mike Lee. The story behind Mike is that he would call the radio
station 30-40 times a day and the only way to get him to stop was to put him on
the air for about 2 minutes every day to discuss how Ozzie Smith came to the
Steak N Shake that he works at. Now, all he talks about is how people know him
and always want to get their picture taken with him. I have no idea why anyone
would ever want to get their picture taken with him.
This is Mike Lee:
7:23 – still waiting for the results.
7:23:01 – the sound system just gave off a noise that led me
and other patrons to believe that the building was blowing up and that we were
all going to die. After it was clear that we were going to be okay it occurred
to me that my obituary was going to say that I died at a professional wrestling
trivia contest. In a bar. In JeffCo. I quickly escaped to the bathroom to have
a good cry.
7:30 – The winners have just been announced. The final three
had scores of 59 and 58. I had a 57 so I didn’t make it. I was overcome with simultaneous
feelings of great sadness and great relief at the fact that I did not know
enough about pro wrestling to win a contest. In a bar. In JeffCo.
7:31 – I was going to leave but decided to order one more
PBR from my new less-than-chesty waitress and watch what would happen in the
final round. It would be a series of 15 questions to determine the winner. Somehow
my ego needed to know that I was better/more pathetic than the three who had
moved on instead of me.
7:45 – 15 questions later and I had my answer. The winner
answered 12 of the 15 questions correctly. I knew 14 of the 15. Oh well.
The guy who won had been sitting with his friend at the
table next to mine. It was obvious pretty early that he was going to win so I
began nudging his buddy and telling him he was going to sit ringside. He kept
looking at his friend and cheering him on while giving me the occasional
no-look fist bump. Once it was official that his buddy had won I congratulated
him and wished him luck at getting the second ticket. It was at that point that
he turned to me, smiled, and exposed both of the teeth he had in his mouth while
saying “I thure hope he takth me inthtead of hith wife.”
Yep, I was at a wrestling trivia contest. In a bar. In JeffCo.
I didn’t go on a drive with the Macho Man.
I also got my picture taken with Mike Lee. I have no idea
why.
Thanks for reading.
