Well, to start y'all off on my little shrine for pro wrestling and some of the manly men within it, I thought I better tell you what kind of fan I am. That way, it might give you a clearer view of where I'm coming from in this site.

I probably could be best described as a "Smark," a combination of "Smart" and "Mark." The smart aspect comes from how I approach wrestling. I do look at it in a more professional light than many casual fans and do throw around terms like jobber, booking, face, heel, tweener, etc. I do read the online "dirt sheets" from the more legit guys (Keller, Meltzer) and have an inkling of the backstage and the players there. I know real names and some relations. And I'm in on the thing that what's going on in the ring isn't all real, even though it's not all "fake" either. Many of these fans are also called "Internet Fans." And as one of these fans, I also have a deeper respect for wrestling and wrestlers.

Outside of all that, I'm also a major mark which will be flaming apparent as you go through the joint. My favorites aren't necessarily the Internet darlings who put on 30-minute technial matches that some orgasm over but I like them because...well, I like them. They each have something to bring to the table that I dig and that has earned my markdom, whether that be dedication to wrestling, mic skills, athleticism, or just sheer presence. However, I don't proclaim they're gods among men because they are just that, men. Lord knows they're not perfect and they do end up on my shitlist from time to time.

And outside of the "smark" perspective, I look at wrestling in a humorous way, too. How can you not pick on the UT after a close-up of him picking his teeth, sniffing snot, or the way he used to deal with his belly anxiety? Or when Bubba accidentially crawls to the wrong corner during a match and his shocked look following that move? Or when CJ dresses in the dark? Or HHH's penchant for rekindling 80's fashion with the sleeveless denim jacket over a leather one? As far as I'm concerned, that's open season right there.

After going through this site and the other ones linked within it, you may ask, "did the heartfelt shit in that opening essay come from the same person who calls Taker a flaming retard?" Yes, it did. Even though I goof on some of the boys, I still have nothing but respect for them, except for selected guys like Goldberg, Nash and his buddies, and Hogan. Then I mean what I say. I give respect to the men and ladies who give respect to wrestling; the rest (like those in the former sentence) can fuck off.

Now onto my years of watching. Unlike a lot of the fans you see today, I have been a fan for most of my life, minus a few years in my teens where I was a shithead and thought it to be "so immature." Being a child of the 80's (and probably permanently warped because of it), I grew up watcing the WWF and was the perfect mark; I loved the good guys and hated the bad guys, even if said bad guys were the good guys the week before. I also have all kinds of nostalgic memories about this time so I shall wax on a bit about it. If you don't want to hear about things that made 80's wrestling cool, just skip past this next paragraph.

Wrestling back in the day was so glitzy and larger than life. When there was a Pay-Per-View going on, dammit you knew it was a PPV. And I remember ACTUAL WRESTLING (such a novel concept, eh?) from the 80's. Of course, you had Hulkamania running wild and I freely admit I was a Hulkamaniac- I even own Hulkamania! on tape: a couple hours of "hulking up" and legdrops- pure entertainment there, folks. Saturday Night's Main Event on NBC was such a cool thing because it was only about once a month and I was never allowed to stay up late, except for that. The play-by-play team was Jesse Ventura (with boa, shades, and glitz) doing commentary alongside Bobby Heenan, Gorilla, and Vince. Speaking of Bobby, he was the epitome of what a good heel manager should be, known as "The Weasel." Actually, Ultimate Warrior even put him in a weasel costume one time on SNME. Lord Alfred Hayes and Gene Okerlund were your link backstage, interviewing such guys as Junkyard Dog, John Studd, Billy Jack Haynes, Ricky Steamboat (who was the shit), and getting licked in the face by the Bushwackers. I tuned in every Saturday for the WWF cartoon, with Moolah, Andre, Hulk, JYD, and Lou Albano. The Macho Man and Miss Elizabeth were still the king and queen of the WWF and a precursor to today's "power couples" like Debra/Austin and HHH/Stephanie. Piper's Pit featured Hot Rod, who blasted everyone and everything, including Morton Downey, Jr. with a fire extinguisher. Jack Tunney was "president" of the WWF and Gorilla was "commissioner." Hacksaw was pro-USA before WCW got a hold of him and put him on Team Canada (sacrilege...). However he was shitting us with that hating the Iron Shiek deal because they were caught driving drunk and with drugs in the same car. And Andre the Giant just ruled it and was the man no one was supposed to beat until Hogan did it when he passed the torch (Note to Hogan: we're still waiting for you to relinquish it...) And outside of the WWF, I must have watched a bit of WCW in there somewhere because I also faintly remember the Skyscrapers, of which the replacement of Sid Vicious (a chap going by Mean Mark Callous) would later become The Undertaker.

Now that I've finished my nostalgic trip back, let's continue onto the present. I still appreciate professional wrestling for the wrestling aspect. In this new "Attitude" era, wrestling's a backdrop to the storylines, which I'm not a fan of. But once in awhile, you catch a match that's damn good. I can care less for "As the Turnbuckle Turns" (credit to the MIPB Divas for that one) bull, which they usually fuck up anyhow; give me wrestling. Give me matches with skilled and well-matched opponents that last for 10 minutes are more, who are in that ring because of a few good fire-filled promos, good psychology, and a hell of an angle.

I also admire the sheer dedication many people make to wrestling. For these people wrestling not only becomes a job, but a lifestyle. It becomes "in the blood", so to speak. And you would have to genuinely like wrestling to do this, or you're just plain nuts. Personally, you couldn't pay me enough to take the bumps they do that leave lasting effects on their bodies and keep the schedule most of them do. Most travel close to 300 days a year (fast fact from a documentary: most spend the time equivalent to 6 weeks in the air alone) and are away from their friends and families. They put their bodies on the line day in and day out for the fans and try to give them the best show they possibly can. On top of this, even some of their "off days" are spent doing autograph signings and other promotional work. And even with all these hassles that would make a mere mortal absolutely postal, the majority of these ladies and gents are very cordial to their fans, which is a rare thing in any form of sports or entertainment today.

So for those very reasons and more, they deserve respect from the fans (smarts and marks alike here). That means not throwing things at the wrestlers during matches, bugging them for autographs when it's apparent that they are completely exhausted, not having a good day whatsoever, or at other "inopportune times" (credit has to go to Calaway for that one), and exhibiting other assholish and ridiculous behavior. And, yeah, it's real important to hurl things at the wrestlers during shows to slip or trip on, maybe causing injury just because their character might be a real asshole. *sarcasm at play here*

 

Now, with all of this gushiness out of the way, let's get on with the show...