A Hardore Homecoming for All of Us

I don't think we'll ever be totally sure why men do the things they do. Is it that inner surge of chemicals that drives them mad? Is it the remaining genes left in us from the time we walked on all fours? Or is it because we think a guy getting smashed in the face with a folding chair is awesome? All I know, is that I am a guy... and I happen to enjoy seeing someone get smashed in the face with a folding chair. This is why, after a three-year hiatus, I attended a professional wrestling match last Saturday, and had a heck of a good time.

The event was called "Hardcore Homecoming," and featured twenty or so professional wrestlers for a sort of touring exhibition event. All of the wrestlers are former WWE and ECW superstars, now just wrestling for the fans (because after seeing this, I know it can't be for the money.) It was held in what seems to be the premier wrestling venue in Beaver County, the CCBC Golden Dome, known across the state as being that place that looks like half of a golf ball. My dad and I went together, just like we used to do years ago when ECW (Extreme Championship Wrestling, which got bought out and dismantled by WWE) visited every six months or so.

I guess it's to explain this sort of event, and the people involved with it, if you aren't hip to pro-wrestling's vibe. I was explaining what happened, in great, animated, detail, to Karissa and she merely stared at me blankly.

There were about 600 people at the event. This seems like a big crowd, but really was actually quite small and intimate. It was a very different atmosphere from most wrestling events I've been at. Since the space wasn't huge, and the crowd was relatively small, you could really hear everyone. Folks would yell to the wrestlers (both insults and praise) and the wrestlers would yell back. It was clear that this event was made for the fans; it had none of the corporate shine that televised wrestling has. To kick off the evening, a wrestler by the name of The Sandman got on stage, already drunk. He gave a rather confusing speech about loss and donating money to the Red Cross. But by the end of his talk he had the whole crowd chanting,"F*ck Katrina!" This, of course, was filled with nothing but the best of intentions... I just hope there wasn't anyone there actually named Katrina.

The matches all had a tongue-in-cheek air about them. The wrestlers joked around with the audience, high-fived people, and still managed to pull off some entertaining moves. Probably the best match of the evening was the "Falls Count Anywhere" match between three interestingly named men: New Jack, Ian Rotten, and Balls Mahoney. Each of them marched to the ring with a weapon or two, planning to unleash them on one another. Ian came out with a staple gun and a nightstick. Balls came out with a chair. Both of these men were topped by New Jack (who I thought was dead previous to this evening), who came out carrying a chain with a knife on the end. The match, of course, quickly degraded into a bloody competition of "can you top this," as the men did everything they could to hurt one another. New Jack pulled a vacuum cleaner out from beneath the ring and beat Balls with it. Ian shoved a fork in New Jack's head. And Balls stapled two one-dollar bills to Ian's face. That's right... you read correctly. STAPLED them to his face. This was both hilarious and horrifying all at the same time. While I was thoroughly entertained by all of this, I must say that the time spent away from watching wrestling has certainly made my stomach weaker. Since the wrestlers were allowed to pin each other anywhere in the stadium, they fought their way into the bleachers. After a few minutes they were literally right next to me, beating each other with a stop sign.

The end of the match came about after Ian and Balls set up a table at the bottom of a closed set of bleachers. While those two wrestled around on top of the table, New Jack climbed to the top of the bleachers and jumped off about 25ft in the air and smashed poor Ian Rotten, pinning him for the win. They had to take an intermission after this match, to get everything cleaned up.

It was during this intermission, interestingly enough, that The Sandman (in what I can only assume was a drunk stupor) wandered by and handed me a piece of the table New Jack had just jumped through! My first thoughts were "sweet!" and my second thoughts were "ew... this is covered in blood." But I kept it, seeing the value in something like this. During intermission, I managed to meet most of the wrestlers and get them to sign the back of this bloodied piece of banquet table.

The entire event lasted around three and a half hours, but I hardly noticed. My dad and I were too busy laughing in amazement at what was going on in the squared circle. This probably seems odd to hear me write about this sort of thing. For as much Molière and Rostand as I may enjoy, for all of the Kurosawa and Woody Allen films that I watch, I still enjoy a good wrestling match.