While professional wrestling, specifically the WWF, has currently reached new heights in popularity one could never have dreamed of, it has reached new lows in class that could only appear in a nightmare.
Good, wholesome, family entertainment of the 80's has been replaced by the gross, perverted, trashy soap opera of the 90's. But please don't forget, it's still "family entertainment."
The old ranks of pro wrestling contained a comical tag team called The Nasty Boys. The duo sported mohawks, tie-dyed, self-titled tee-shirts and a few gaps where teeth should be. Today, the entire crew of the WWF could be called "the nasty boys." Only this time it is not so comical.
The old days saw the constant use of a certain three-letter word: win. A new three-letter word has taken its place: ass. People have forgotten the synonyms of "tail" or "butt" or "backside." Everything has to be "ass" this and "ass" that.
Bobby's fourth-grade teacher might ask if he's prepared for his exam. His response, "Oh hell yeah! I'm gonna kick this test's ass from here to the playground."
Hacksaw Jim Duggan, a great American hero, has seen his thumb's up gesture replaced by a gesture of a different sort, namely Stone Cold Steve Austin's middle finger. Ten-year-old kids nag their parents to spend 10 dollars buying them a big foam hand flipping the bird. Give me a break.
Another of Hacksaw's props was the wonderful American flag. He would wield this down the aisle to the chant of U-S-A. These days Degeneration X grab their crotches as they yell, "Suck it."
Bobby's fourth-grade teacher asks him to read a paragraph in front of the class. His response... I think you get my drift.
I remember a day when the Macho Man Randy Savage married the beautiful Miss Elizabeth in front of the whole world. Everyone just knew that they were the perfect match; tears were certainly shed that day. Recently on Monday Night Raw, Terri Reynolds, someone's manager or something, rushed to the ring announcing that she was pregnant with Val Venis' baby.
Oh by the way, Val Venis is supposedly a former porn star.
"Mommy, what's a porn star exactly?"
Hulk Hogan, the second greatest American behind Hacksaw, used to enter to a song whose chorus went, "I am a real American. Fight for the right's of every man. I am a real American, fight for what's right, fight for your life."
Nobody today fights for the rights of every man. There is the character called The Godfather. No, not Marlon Brando or Al Pacino. Instead, this guy walks out in gold chains with a cigar and three females. I almost forgot, the females are technically called his "ho's" and his jacket reads "Pimpin' ain't easy."
"Mommy, what are ho's? And what is a pimp?"
Originally, he would offer his opponent the option to either wrestle him or have a free overnight stay with his ho's. For some reason, this offer is no longer extended.
Goldust, son of former great Dusty Rhodes, walks to the ring in a wig and gown, not quite sure of his sexuality. Rowdy Roddy Piper used to enter the ring in a kilt, but there was no question about that bruiser.
Finally, the eternal legend, Hulk Hogan, used to close every interview with the great line, "What you gonna do, when Hulkamania runs wild on you."
The Rock, a WWF icon, ends his monologues with phrases such as, "I'm gonna lay the smack down on your scrawny little candy ass, then I'll make you my b----h, fool."
Don't be too surprised if in the near future this conversation occurs in more and more households. "Daddy, can I watch WWF Raw tonight?" Dad responds, "No, son, why don't you see what's on Cinemax. I'd feel a little more comfortable about you seeing that."
So, WWF, I got two words for you: "Pure trash."
Brian Kane is a Trinity junior and assistant sports editor of The Chronicle.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.