It鈥檚 finally here: Wrestlemania weekend is upon us.
After months of waiting, these jammed-packed three days are like Christmas for wrestling fans. We鈥檙e treated to a veritable buffet of professional wrestling action.
There鈥檚 Wrestlecon, where numerous companies work under one roof. There鈥檒l be Ring of Honor鈥檚 show, where Kenny Omega and Cody Rhodes will finally come to blows. And then there鈥檚 Wrestlemania itself, which promises to be a memorable program, from AJ Styles vs. Shinsuke Nakamura to Brock Lesnar vs. Roman Reigns to the in-ring debut of Ronda Rousey, it looks to be-
Sorry, sorry, that paragraph probably reads like gibberish to most people. For non-fans, pro wrestling appears to be an insulated world with its own rules and bizarre language. It鈥檚 a strange pastime, to be sure. It鈥檚 certainly the weirdest thing that obsesses me.
It鈥檚 the one hobby of mine I have the hardest time explaining. The majority of people I鈥檝e met turn their nose at the grappling game, calling it vulgar, stupid, and (GASP) fake. Wrestling is all of those things, to an extent. It鈥檚 cheap popcorn entertainment, using the rawest and simplest emotions from sports and dramas. It indulges in countless cliches and stereotypes, making foreigners the bad guy and 鈥渞eal Americans鈥� the heroes. Wrestling is dumb.
But, at its best, it鈥檚 pure, distilled joy. There鈥檚 an immense satisfaction from watching two larger-than-life characters pummel each other in the squared circle as the climax to their personal conflict. Instead of talking or working through their problems, wrestlers jump right to suplexing, flipping, and punching one another. Wrestling captures the essence of great drama. Plus, you get to see people fall through burning tables, which is basically high art.
Wrestling鈥檚 always occupied an odd place in my life. As a kid, it made me something of an outsider. In elementary school, I had a small group of friends who watched WWE programming with me, but they quickly deemed it 鈥渦ncool鈥� and walked away. I stuck with it alone until junior high, where I slipped into a more casual fanship.
In college, I met a similarly lapsed wrestling fan. We watched shows together, forcing our roommates to endure the strange spectacle.
When I moved out west, I was excited. Western Canada has quite the pro wrestling history; the Hart family is practically Albertan royalty. I鈥檝e bonded with a few wrestling fans here over our mutual appreciation for Japanese wrestlers kicking each other in the face.
Wrestling brings people together more than most forms of entertainment. I鈥檝e met many people who鈥檝e shared my tastes in music, movies, and books, and I couldn鈥檛 stand them. But when I meet a wrestling fan, I鈥檝e usually met someone worth talking to.
Wrestling unites its fans because it鈥檚 such a disreputable hobby. We鈥檙e connected by our social ostracization. Our shared insanity joins us together.
And now the Mecca of pro wrestling, Wrestlemania, is right around the corner. I believe I have enough column space to describe each match in excruciating detail. First off there鈥檚...
