It goes without saying that those who don’t follow professional wrestling are very contrite about this shortcoming and wish to apologize to me personally. Nonetheless, the chances are you know someone you’d describe as a “real wrestling fan.” But do you know a “REAL wrestling fan”?
What’s the difference between someone who’s a dedicated enthusiast and a self-described “REAL wrestling fan” besides the latter’s choice to capitalize the first word for accentuation on it (and an unwarranted feeling of superiority)? That just happens to be the topic for this particular column. I’ll be using the abbreviation RWF frequently, primarily because I’m lazy. Er, I mean so as to not eat up so much column space.
RWF is the only segment of fandom wherein the member’s neck size matches his SAT scores. With an aroma resembling a skunk that was run over outside a sulfur factory explosion, these moralists regularly look down their freshly picked noses at those who merely watch a television program or attend an event to be—GASP!–entertained.
So what, if under two million Americans watch the most popular wrestling TV show? That’s practically everyone in the world, because wrestling is really important in the grand scheme of things—which, in turn, makes REAL fans important. This is the bubble RWFs live in. Among other delusional doozies, these sad sacks think they represent the majority of the mat sport’s fan base rather than the “casual” fans they despise. (Not even close.) And believe they have great influence over the wrestling offices’ decisions. (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—not to mention HA.)
You’d have a better chance of winning the national lottery by choosing numbers via a blindfolded pigeon tap-dancing on a solar calculator than one of these “experts” actually getting something right. Yet they persist, unfazed over batting .000 for life.
I would rather take fashion advice from Guy Fieri while snorting a line of his earwax dunked in year-old cream than pay the slightest bit of attention to the RWFs endless sanctimonious yattering.
First off, let’s take a look at the standard RWF—quite literally. On the average, these are beefy lads and lasses; and, it is reasonable for an outsider to wonder if the devotees have ever tried their hand at the sport. This is how a typical conversation goes.
RWF: Wrestling is my LIFE.
SWM: Really? How many matches have you been in?
SWM: Okay, then where are you training to become a wrestler?
SWM: Why not?
RWF: I’m a pussy afraid of pain.
SWM: Then why not train to be a ref? They rarely bump.
RWF: Well, um….
SWM: Ring announcers take no bumps.
RWF: Yeah, but….
SWM: Have you ever approached your local indie promoter and volunteered to do anything, such as set up the ring or the folding chairs?
RWF: No, but….
[Let the record show the author is a 5’8” middleweight but has participated in matches, including being on the receiving end of contact and knocked to the ground. Because he’s not a windbag coward.]
The standard RWF is not only a business and television programming expert (despite having no experience in either) but is also a master of in-ring technique. After all, he has watched thousands of matches on TV.
Fortunately for the rest of us novices, these enlightened souls generously share their knowledge. A common social media occurrence is the posting of a brief video clip showcasing a move that went horribly wrong and/or appeared to be very painful. Fulfilling his duty as an educator to the masses, the RWF will reply with an explanation along the lines of “He should have tucked his chin on the way down,” even if the person posting—and I swear I’m not making this up, folks—is a veteran professional wrestler.
It’s a shame Jimi Hendrix isn’t still alive. Although never having held a guitar themselves, these same nincompoops could advise him on how to correctly play a C-chord.
Yes, the standard RWF is so oblivious, he doesn’t even grasp how ridiculous he comes off, and will continue to make a public fool of himself for eternity.
But don’t you dare laugh at them!
Oh, yeah, it’s all fun and games when a wrestler or company on their official Hate List gets knocked. But call out the RWFs with a very valid comment, and it’s a one-way ticket to Sulk City. “Boohoohoo, our skin is thinner than a butterfly wing. Just for that, we’re not voting for you in our self-aggrandizing annual polls, the results of which are unseen by anyone in the industry.
“You should be more like _____, who dutifully tells us exactly what we want to hear, we being far too thick to recognize we’re being conned.”
You may think Swifties are overbearing tunnel-visioned dimwits. And you’d be right. But they are a flock of 13-year-old girls who have never been kissed. Other than their ever-expanding waistlines, RWFs are full-grown (chronological) adults—who have also never been kissed.
Stans, regardless of the genre, are pathetic little beings who have to get their thrills vicariously, knowing full well they will never be more than a mosquito squashed on the windshield of life. REAL Wrestling Fans up the ante by griping over how Favorites A, B and C are not current champs—as in carrying around a championship belt RWFs know is REWARDED as a PRE-DETERMINED result of a STAGED contest no one has ever actually “won.”
To put this into perspective, picture a gaggle of goofuses whining to the USA Network daily and for months because Ice T’s character on Law And Order: SVU has never been elected mayor of New York City.
REAL Wrestling Fans are not entirely useless, however. For instance, they could serve as highly effective mulch, if properly buried (meaning alive.) Or tossed in wood-chippers as test material rather than wasting precious natural resources such as trees and old sneakers.
Polar bears have it tough enough, confined to small zoo pits, in weather dozens of degrees warmer than their natural habitat. Why not cheer up our furry friends by tossing them a RWF or two for lunch?
Feeding REAL Wrestling Fans to bears is also a money-saving opportunity for zoos. But how’s this?
Cities are constantly under budget strains and searching for new revenue streams. Parades, outdoor concerts and the like are always a boon for the local economy, since they boost retail sales, eatery attendance, parking lot use, and other taxed enterprises.
The more spectacular and crowd-pleasing, the higher the attendance. I say let’s march out some RWFs for good ol’ public beheadings.
What’s their offense? Why, being a REAL Wrestling Fan is as offensive as it gets!
To Be Continued