I'm a Wrestling Fan, and I'm Proud of It
By Joe Foering

(continued)

Unfortunately, while Kane did attend our convention, a combination of bad timing and my duties as con chair prevented me from meeting Kane in person. Well, that and the fact that an overly enthusiastic fan apparently wouldn't leave him alone. Nonetheless, Kane wrote to tell me that he enjoyed what he saw, and appreciated the efforts that were made to keep things under wraps. The fact that a top star like Kane would take time out of his schedule to attend our convention and then write back about it left quite an impression.

As it turns out, Kane and I had a few other common interests besides anime, and we struck up a "pen pal" dialogue over the magic medium of e-mail. Early on, he noticed my self-effacing humor when it came to my wrestling fandom and set out to discourage it. My use of such terms as "the wrestling geek part of my brain" likely didn't sit well with someone who did it for a living, and he certainly didn't see being a wrestling fan as something to be ashamed of. That also made an impression on me. Perhaps, I thought, it was time for me to take a different look at the hobby I had followed for so long.

Channeling My Inner Simon

So all this is running through my mind as I walk through the doors of the First Mariner Arena, formerly known as the Baltimore Arena, and make my way to my floor level seat. With me is the aspiring wrestler and Otakon Staff member known as Geoff. We are no more than 30 feet from the ring, ten rows back, which is good. What's not so good is the sad fact that seat number 1 of that row (mine) does not give me a seat on the aisle as I had hoped; that honor belongs to seat 12. So any pictures I take would have to be taken through a sea of humanity standing on the same arena floor (and sometimes their chairs) as we are.

As the crowd files in the arena loudspeakers play cuts from WWE's newest album, WWE Originals, which features the wrestlers themselves singing songs written for them by the company's composer. Yes, WWE even has an in-house composer that writes their music. I listen with an open mind, but while I admire the wrestlers' willingness to sing I have to admit that most of the performances make me channel my "Inner Simon" (of American Idol fame). There are a couple of decent performances out of what I hear, but overall I think it's safe to say that the music world has little to fear from the Superstars of WWE.

Finally, the arena lights dim and the quiet filing-in music gives way to a hard guitar riff, and "My Sacrifice" from the band Creed thunders throughout the arena. WWE has been using this song for quite some time to underscore the effort that their wrestlers go through (and the often injurious results) to put on a good show for the fans. To that end it works quite well; the fact that it's also a kickass song doesn't hurt either, and the crowd is on its feet and ready to go. I won't give a blow-by-blow description of all the matches, but I will touch on a couple of highlights from the day's event.

Fabulous!

The first match of the day features Rico Constantino, known in the ring simply as Rico. Rico is a former Las Vegas cop, the 1990-91 season's winner of the old American Gladiators show, and a black belt in karate. He's also a fan favorite, thanks in no small part to the presence of his well-endowed valet Miss Jackie. Rico's ring character is a "flamboyant" persona who limp-wristedly dances around the ring and plays off his opponents' homophobia to gain the advantage. And sure enough, a combination of well-placed kicks to the head and well-placed slaps on the posterior is enough for Rico to fluster his opponent, a muscle bound bruiser called Horshu, and score the pinfall victory.

But there's more to this for me than just an opening match. As I watch Rico go through his paces it reminds me a bit of the late Adrian Adonis, one of the WWF stars I watched as a child on TV. Unlike the ambiguousness of Rico's character, Adonis' portrayal of an effeminate gay stereotype was about as subtle as a brick. Adonis had an interview segment called "The Flower Show" and once even wrestled in a dress. Needless to say, Adonis played the "heel," or villain, as anything even remotely gay was not construed as a positive attribute in the early 1980s. Today, in an age of diversity and tolerance, or at least an age of "not-that-there's-anything-wrong-with-that," the fans can feel free to cheer for Rico. I certainly do-although I'd be lying if I said that it has nothing to do with Miss Jackie and the outfit she (almost) has on.

Like Fine Wine

Midway through the show is an intermission, after which we are treated to an interview segment designed to hype next week's WrestleMania. Baltimore native Stacy Kiebler, she of the beautiful face and 41-inch-long legs, comes out to a nice ovation from her hometown crowd. After putting up with a few snide comments from snarky interviewer Jonathan "The Coach" Coachman, Stacy announces that she has a surprise for the fans. As a squeal of brakes followed a catchy three-chord guitar riff comes over the loudspeakers, the crowd explodes as Mick Foley, the "Hardcore Legend" (and best-selling author), joins her in the ring.

Foley, also known throughout his career as "Cactus Jack" and "Mankind," is a battle-scarred ring veteran who has literally bled on five continents in his career, but even after losing part of his right ear in Germany he has never lost his love for the business or his sense of perspective about life. I read his autobiography not too long ago, and I found his story quite an inspiration. Foley may not be the strongest, the most skilled, or the most handsome wrestler you'll find, but he is someone with whom wrestling fans can connect. Like many a young fan (including this one) he dreamed of being a pro wrestler, and like many a young fan he was advised to seek another profession. But he followed his dream and became perhaps the most unlikely wrestling superstar of them all. And even after all the times I had seen him on TV, in and out of the ring, it's still a singular thrill to see him live and in the flesh, ripping The Coach a new one and working the crowd. In short order Foley defends Stacy's honor and scares off The Coach-but it seems that Baltimore's surprises are not yet over.