They’re ruinin’ pro wrastlin’

by Cowboy Earl MacAdoo

Years ago come Saturday afternoon or even Friday night we’d all gather round the TV and watch as our favorite wrestlers fought it out to see who was really the toughest. Ain’t like that no more. Now we got foreigners up there on the mat a-spoutin’ off in Chinese or French. Where’s all the American boys…collecting their welfare checks? We got all kind of nose biting, throat squeezing, soap rubbing, Kung-Fu heroes sneakin’ a peek at the camera while they waddle and somersault their way toward the next paycheck.

Back in the Fifties them wrestlers didn’t punch out no camera men neither! They had respect for sports casters and respect for themselves. It ain’t that way no more. Most of these boys is just looking for riding time, in front of the cameras, that is. They’re too fat to feud and too dressed up to fight. It’s all a shabby damn donnybrook that’s akin to  sweaty soap opera, though nobody’s tossing in the towel…yet.

Wrestling, like all other sports has changed over the past thirty years. Fans have to be fans and accept these changes as part of the evolution of the sport. But I’ll tell you here and now…there’s one change that threatens the future of pro wrestling and could destroy the sport for generations not yet hatched! And I ain’t talkin’ about no gamblin’, I’m talking about women sashayin’ around in the ring taking all the limelight away from the real stars of the contest.

When the Sheik, Chief Sun-Moon and The Crusher were just breaking into the sport as rookies, did you ever see a woman on stage? Hell no. Wrestling, along with just about everything else, was sexy enough to suit back in those days. (There were no women sports casters either telling you what their male counterparts served for dinner last night). Now every lame grappler has got his wife or girlfriend or sister or even his momma up there with him and some of them’s real damn mean too. Why just the other evening I watched stunned as one of the Hillbilly Brother’s girlfriends knocked the hell out of The Masked Marauder.

Sure as flies at a cattle drive, soon after the release of that Hulk feller’s next movie we’ll be seeing even more pre-packaged sex in professional wrestling. He’s got no scruples. My little niece could whup that bleach-blond blimp! He’ll have groupies hanging all over him from start to finish. What kind of a message is that sending to our youth? I think it stinks.

Is nothing sacred? Why can’t women leave wrestling to the men and stay on the roller-derby track where they belong?

(Copyright, 2018, Good ‘Ol News Services)

Cowboy Earl MacAdoo appears compliments of the Good ‘Ol Boy News Service. Recognized as the “Groucho of the Pasture” Earl now lives on Spring Creek Mesa west of Montrose. His opinions are not necessarily those of this newspaper.

Filed Under: Lifestyles at Risk

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