The Shallow End of the Pool

Since I started this blog, I've been meaning to do a bit on pro wrestling. Yesterday, my brother posted a wrestling piece here. That rotten bastard. I am going to go ahead and do one anyway. Feel free to go ahead and click that link and read his first, I won't mind. In fact, I wish you would, because it will save me having to type a lot of back story about how I started watching wrestling.

So I watch pro wrestling a lot. What I don't understand is why, when people find out I'm a wrestling fan, the first thing they ALWAYS say is, "You know it's fake, right?" No fooling? It's fake? Do people REALLY think I'm retarded? My favorite thing to do is ask them later on what their favorite TV show is, and then inform them that show is also fake. They look at me like I'm an even bigger idiot then before. Please, have you ever heard people talking about "Friends," or "The Sopranos," or "Sex and the City?" They talk about the characters like they're REAL PEOPLE instead of a work of fiction. Sure, Rachel got off the plane to Paris (which was just a set) and ran to Ross' apartment (also a set) to declare her undying love for him. 47 million people watched this story unfold for 10 freaking years, and then what happened? Jennifer Aniston went home and had sex with her husband Brad Pitt. You see, Ross and Rachel don't really exist. But I'M the moron because wrestling is fake.

The biggest problem I have with the whole argument is that wrestling really ISN'T fake, so to speak. Sure, the matches have pre-determined outcomes and a whole slew of writers working on the storylines, but the notion that most people have about two fat guys pretending to punch each other is just not correct. These guys are real athletes. They do, obviously, try their hardest not to really hurt the other guy...except that most of what they do just plain hurts no matter what. It's just not possible to have a 300 pound man land on top of you with decent velocity and not be hurt. And I'm willing to bet that when a man of above-average strength swings a steel chair at you and connects with your forehead, it's going to sting a little (and no, there is no such thing as a fake chair. I've heard this argument before, and I still don't get it. What the hell is a FAKE CHAIR, exactly? But I digress...).

More wrestling malarkey tomorrow....