When my wife
and I saw the promo for Wrestling with Death for the first time, our reactions
were polar opposites. This show is essentially about a funeral director and his
family who live in the small Arkansas town of Osceola. They run a funeral home during the
day and put on wrestling shows on the weekend. No, that’s not a typo. I laughed
so hard I gave myself a coughing fit; I knew this was going to be epic
something to the nth degree. My dear wife just looked at me and shook her
head.
This disclaimer appeared before the show started
This program contains scenes of real corpses
and actual mortuary preparation practices.
This disclaimer appeared before the show started
The following conversation ensued:
“We have to DVR this.”
“What! You
won’t even watch Duck Dynasty!’
“Yeah, well
that’s dumb as shit.”
“And this
isn’t? What the hell is rasslin’? That’s not even a word.”
“”After almost
5 years with me you should be used to made up words.”
“I am ,but
that word? It just won’t come out of my mouth. No, na na na, no. I can’t .”
“I don’t know
really where the word came from. It’s just another made up word like the goofy
crap in the Urban Dictionary.”
“ I don’t
care, it’s not a word and I’m not saying it and I’m not watching that either.”
“Okay, fair
enough, but you have watch it at least once just for the dumb entertainment
value of it.”
To her credit
she did sit and suffer through half of one episode with me and announced that
for any further viewings I was on my own. I am of the opinion that all reality
TV is really just the video version of artificial flavoring; things are not
really what they seem. What this little bit of nonsense flashing across my TV screen
did do was bring back some fond old memories.
Watching the
wrestling clips in the promos reminded
me of the ring at the wrestling shows I went to as a kid. Seeing the
turnbuckles crafted from duct tape, the small arena, and the obvious age of the
ring itself blasted me back to a time when i sat in the stands at a similar venue.
My friend’s Dad worked for the local newspaper as sports editor and he was able to get free general admission passes to the wrestling shows at the little multi-purpose auditorium at Ocean Beach Park in New London. What a great experience for a couple of goofy adolescents; the crazy cast of regulars that attended every show were as entertaining as the wrestlers in the ring.
There were a couple of little old ladies at every match that always sat near ring side; one always had a cane that she would wave at the bad guys then bang the hell out of the ring apron with it. The two of them would stand up, yell and shake their fists at the bad guys as they got the better of the fan favorites. More than one bad guy felt the wrath of that cane. Gorilla Monsoon had really a big fan that was there every time Gorilla was on the card. I mean REALLY BIG, like close to 500 pounds kind of big. He was always perched in the middle of the bench in one section along the top row of the roll-out wooden bleachers. His bulk caused that section to sag like an old swaybacked nag. All through Gorilla’s match you could hear this deep voice yelling, “Heyyyy Gorilla, kick him in the peen.”
My friend’s Dad worked for the local newspaper as sports editor and he was able to get free general admission passes to the wrestling shows at the little multi-purpose auditorium at Ocean Beach Park in New London. What a great experience for a couple of goofy adolescents; the crazy cast of regulars that attended every show were as entertaining as the wrestlers in the ring.
There were a couple of little old ladies at every match that always sat near ring side; one always had a cane that she would wave at the bad guys then bang the hell out of the ring apron with it. The two of them would stand up, yell and shake their fists at the bad guys as they got the better of the fan favorites. More than one bad guy felt the wrath of that cane. Gorilla Monsoon had really a big fan that was there every time Gorilla was on the card. I mean REALLY BIG, like close to 500 pounds kind of big. He was always perched in the middle of the bench in one section along the top row of the roll-out wooden bleachers. His bulk caused that section to sag like an old swaybacked nag. All through Gorilla’s match you could hear this deep voice yelling, “Heyyyy Gorilla, kick him in the peen.”
One of the regular
wrestlers on the card, Joe Esposito, ran an Italian restaurant when he wasn’t
wrestling. My buddy’s Dad took us there
a couple of times for pizza before the matches and we were in heaven. This
place was the typical Italian restaurant; the red and white checked table cloths with the Chianti bottle candle holder centerpiece dripping with hardened wax from previous diners gave the place an
atmosphere that radiated good food and comfort. The effect was enhanced by the walls
that were plastered with black and white photos of pro wrestlers; there were both good guys and heels
and most of them were autographed. It
was like a living wrestling history lesson; there were pictures of old timers
that we never got to see in person and had only read about in magazine. Outside the ring it was obvious wrestling was a brotherhood like most sports. That
idea was further cemented at the end of each show we attended as we watched
both good guys and bad guys pile in the same car together and drive off to a local hotel or the
next event.
Being at a
small venue during the years before Vince McMahon made Hulk Hogan a household
name gave the two of us access that today wouldn’t be possible. That small auditorium had the concession stand
to the left of the main entrance; the entire area was maybe 30' x 60' with 3 sets of panic bar equipped double doors at each end. Directly across from the concessions was the
hall leading to the locker rooms. All athletes there for any sports event had
to exit that hallway, make their way through the concession area, then through
a set of the doors leading to the main
auditorium floor. On a few separate occasions we staked out the locker room area and were rewarded for our
patience.
One night we were lucky enough to get what seemed like almost an hour talking to Captain Lou Albano; I say what seemed like an hour with a memory filled by the skewed sense of time a teenager has. My friend and I were both impressed that Lou actually took the time to talk to a couple of bug-eyed young wrestling fans like we were adults. My sense of time probably stretched out that whole conversation, none of which I can remember, though I walked away with a sense that Lou was a good guy; all the bad guy stuff he ever did in the ring was to sell tickets.If my friend and I ever had a discussion of wrestling at any point during the next few years that night would always end up being part of the mix. I can't speak for my buddy Mike but I can say I always had a warm place inside for Captain Lou. Another memorable evening was the time we were able to spend time talking with Buddy Wolff on the night he was wrestling Pedro Morales for the championship in the main event. He was one of the big name regional bad guys at the time and again we were left with knowing the line between good guys and bad guys in wrestling is pretty much only defined in the ring.
The only time I ever saw Vince McMahon he brought his own particular brand of sunshine with him; as he strode through the door he announced, “All you god damn kids get the hell out of my way”, and then shouldered through people in his path as he headed for the auditorium. What a peach, though the word I usually use to describe him rhymes with stick. Funny thing is he still shows everyone that same sparkling personality today. His car then was the only cool thing about him. A Chevy concept was what I later learned were his wheels for the night It looked something like the picture directly below.
One night we were lucky enough to get what seemed like almost an hour talking to Captain Lou Albano; I say what seemed like an hour with a memory filled by the skewed sense of time a teenager has. My friend and I were both impressed that Lou actually took the time to talk to a couple of bug-eyed young wrestling fans like we were adults. My sense of time probably stretched out that whole conversation, none of which I can remember, though I walked away with a sense that Lou was a good guy; all the bad guy stuff he ever did in the ring was to sell tickets.If my friend and I ever had a discussion of wrestling at any point during the next few years that night would always end up being part of the mix. I can't speak for my buddy Mike but I can say I always had a warm place inside for Captain Lou. Another memorable evening was the time we were able to spend time talking with Buddy Wolff on the night he was wrestling Pedro Morales for the championship in the main event. He was one of the big name regional bad guys at the time and again we were left with knowing the line between good guys and bad guys in wrestling is pretty much only defined in the ring.
The only time I ever saw Vince McMahon he brought his own particular brand of sunshine with him; as he strode through the door he announced, “All you god damn kids get the hell out of my way”, and then shouldered through people in his path as he headed for the auditorium. What a peach, though the word I usually use to describe him rhymes with stick. Funny thing is he still shows everyone that same sparkling personality today. His car then was the only cool thing about him. A Chevy concept was what I later learned were his wheels for the night It looked something like the picture directly below.
Every time I watch
the Princess Bride I’m reminded of the night Andre the Giant walked by me on the
way to the ring; at 14 I was already 6’ tall and I barely reached his armpit, the
man was immense. When he climbed in the ring it looked like a mattress in a cheap motel as it sagged with his weight; those old ring ropes were tight as piano wires.
I don’t watch wrestling
anymore and haven’t in a really long time, mainly since Vince the Stick made
the soap opera outside the ring the main focus of the show. Many years ago I stopped longing
for the days when venues were small and the wrestlers were approachable and not
like the athletic rock stars they are made out to be today. I get the idea they
have to protect themselves from the public; too many Mark David Chapman’s out
there waiting to come out of the woodwork the past 40 years. I am glad I grew up at a
time when celebrities and athletes were more approachable and the concern for crazies in the crowd wasn't as big an issue. The present day worries of our celebrity culture as they are plagued by paparazzi and cell phone cameras at every turn has widened that separation; we have brought that situation upon ourselves.
This post wasn’t meant as endorsement of the show; it
really is just about good memories with good friends. Seeing the wrestling segments
on the show, which is obviously staged in a much smaller venue then the one I was
exposed to, brought back that small town aspect of how wrestling felt back
then. The cast of characters on this show would fit
right in at old Ocean Beach Park Auditorium.
( These links still work since this post first appeared)
The link below
is to the trailer for the shows website on WGN Network.
http://wgnamerica.com/shows/wrestlingwithdeath
http://wgnamerica.com/shows/wrestlingwithdeath
On Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4DjIJjLmkw
It is less than 2 minutes long and is worth a couple minutes even if it's just for laughs and you are not a fan of wrestling. Reality TV is here to stay.
It is less than 2 minutes long and is worth a couple minutes even if it's just for laughs and you are not a fan of wrestling. Reality TV is here to stay.
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