Kit Kingdom, click
here to update your pages on AuthorsDen.
Blogs by Kit Kingdom
WrestleMania Insaneia 3/27/2015 10:14:31 PM
A look at WrestleMania Once again we find ourselves starring down both barrels (one loaded with buckshot and one loaded with rock salt) of the most successful Earthbound wrestling corporation’s largest night of the year.
Word is that somewhere in orbit there exists a bigger and badder wrestling enterprise comprised of former superstars whose heads swelled over their sheer greatness to such an extent that they were no longer able to remain Earthbound, but that’s another story, and quite frankly one that’s filled with hot air, namely the hot air leaking forth from their heads.
Some people compare WrestleMania to the Super Bowl, but I don’t see it. The WWE have better writers than the NFL, which isn’t really saying a whole lot, although it really says it all, or maybe it says less than nothing and merely takes up space and wastes your time pointlessly. Whichever way, you’ve welcome.
In the beginning Vincent Kennedy McMahon (a well known soap opera addict) took a respectable wrestling business and created the WWF as we no longer know it today. He filled the company with as much glamour as he could muster on a see through dime on a string and employed only the most intense of over the top wrestling personalities and only the most clueless of legally blind and easily detracted referees and saw (as the gentlemen calling the matches were unable to) that it was good.
Than came the 1980s and good became better to where Vince was able to read the writing he had written on the wall which he was banging his head against and he decided to expand the old brand or die trying. What he was actually planning (having never had a problem with his ego) was on declaring himself the king of the professional wrestling circuit, and he decided to appoint himself to the throne in Madison Square Garden because he could think of no stage grander upon which to do it.
He put his every cent (all ten of them) on the line putting together his coronation. He assembled his most colorful primed for prime time players such as Hogan, Savage, Piper, and Andre the Giant, to name but a few, and a host of similar freaks from other walks of show biz. These included the likes of Mr. T, Cyndi Lauper, Billy (little guy syndrome) Martin, Muhammad Ali, and to add some much needed testosterone to the event Liberace (who properly set the desired bone crunching vibe from the onset by keeping the time) and the Rockettes.
All did not go as expected and everything explored and the chairman of the board met his destiny in a head on collision and all was right with his world afterwards.
This incredible occurrence occurred some thirty odd (even actually, but for the current WWE they’ve been nothing but odd to the extreme) years past.
The highlight match upon this milestone year is a throwback to yesteryear. It features the icon Sting (he thinks he’s the Joker, and who knows, he might be right) and Triple H (the son-in-law of the board); the two remaining warlords of the infamous Monday Night Wars between the WWE and WCW. This one match sums up in a squared nutshell (and I do mean nutshell) the essence of the last three decades. The WWE has indeed come a long ways. They’ve gone from good to better to best to the other side of the mountain. How important were the Monday Night Wars in the evolution of the WWE? If not for Ted Turner and his band of merry men led by none other than turncoat Hulk “Hollywood” Hogan and the NWO, the WWE never would have had a best, or rather they would have, but it would have been their better, which might be better than their good, but isn’t as good as their best. Of course the ultimate WWE was the property of the ECW, whose bloodbaths always got Claudia hot for a razorblade and Abel upon which to use it. This match is meant to remind us of the days when the Federation was all about Entertainment or death in the stead of Entertainment might as well be owned by the Disney Corporation.
We’ll just have to wait and see what it and the rest of this crazed exhibition delivers, won’t we?
