Monday, June 27, 2005

how the fake can feel so real

so i was flipping through the channels on monday and i came to "wwe raw". i usually stay on it for a minute, maybe two, and then i'm on my way to a third viewing of sportscenter. but john cena and shawn michaels were in the ring, and the crowd rose to their feet, and i heard the opening bars to a song that made my heart race as a child. and when the lyrics hit - "i am a real american, fight for the rights of every man" - i put the clicker down.

and the hulkster hit the ring, and the crowd went nuts, and even though he's now well into his fifties, he's still tan, and even though his muscles aren't solid tight, they're still muscles, and even when it seemed like he struggled to rip off his hulkamania shirt, it was still ripped and my pulse still pulsed.

and the match went on and the drama was built until the hulkster was finally tagged in and it's the scene we all know: blocked punch, punch, blocked punch, punch, whip into the ropes and a clothesline, bait the crowd for a reaction, whip into the ropes and his opponent eats the big boot, the crowd rises, and into the ropes and the hulkster drops the big leg for the one, two, three - and the crowd is in a frenzy and the hulkster clears the ring of his opponents and it's time to celebrate as he cups his ears to one section of the crowd, and another, and another and another, and then the hulkster pose - his right arm flexing as his left points upward to the sky at two o'clock, and then the two armed flex, and then the chest flex, once, twice, three times...

and there i am, no longer thirty-one but now eleven again, and instead of beating chris jericho, christian and some other dude, he just beat the iron sheik, or paul orndorff or even big john studd, and all is well in the world because hulkamania's running wild no matter the age and there sure ain't no cure, even twenty years later.

is wrestling real? of course not. but my goosebumps sure are.

by the way, speaking of things larger than life, check this out.

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