Scott Larson
Fights and Tights
By Scott Larson
Feb 21, 2006, 12:16

Look Ma: One Hand!

  

Back in the day when Hulk Hogan was more character than caricature, professional wrestling was the pinnacle of my weekends.  On a good Saturday it was on as an early morning cartoon, again at noon in live action, and then at midnight on Saturday Night Main Event.  And faster than an incompetent referee could slap one, two, three I was hooked.   

But then I grew up. And I grew out of my WWF phase. 

Until last week, when like a blast from the past I found myself watching men in leotards battle.  I grimaced as they stuttered through overly clichd interviews.  I rolled my eyes at the predictable choreography.  I turned down the announcers who spoke only in exaggerated rhetoric.  And I still found all the close-ups of shaven chests a little weird. 

But I wasn't watching wrestling. 

My wife and houseguests had tuned to men's Olympic ice skating.

One competitor was praised for his "sassiness" and "posturing."  Another rocked a pastel headband like a rainbow Rambo.  America's medal favorite was dressed like a mermaid.  And as minute after minute went by, I found myself asking: where in the name of Randy Savage have all the Macho Men gone? 

But just as I begin to long for the good old days, I realized my boyhood champion was no better.  Because the Ultimate Warrior, much like Scott Hamilton, went to work each day in makeup and arm streamers. 

As the night unfolded, my comparative nature did some grappling of its own. It effectively pinned any nostalgia I ever had toward those Saturdays of long ago.  Let's just call a blade a spade: figure skating is professional wrestling for women. 

The two share an almost mirror nature.  Both involve highly predictable outcomes.  Elite participants boast signature moves.  Overly theatrical back stories tend to set up and overshadow the main event.  If you win, you get to parade around in strange jewelry.  And sequined tights play an important role in each. 

But I'm not here to discredit figure skating, or even to praise wrestling.  I'll even concede that skaters seem to be in great athletic condition.  I admit that there is a subtle element of danger.  And the dedication they show to their craft is impressive. 

But I can also say the same thing about pro wrestlers.  Which bring us right back to my central thesis: wrestling and figure skating are more alike than any fan of either genre cares to admit.  The only difference in the essence of each is that one is framed in estrogen, the other testosterone.  And even that line seems to be blurring more and more. 

I'm not the first analyst to point this out.  The comparisons were unavoidable when Tonia Harding's entourage jumped Nancy Kerrigan backstage before their 1992 showdown.  The analogy was taken further years later when the French judge was kicked out of the Salt Lake City games for attempting to fix results. 

And just as skating went hard core, wrestling prettied itself up.  The whole industry found a ratings boost by deemphasizing the trauma and playing up the drama.  Even the great Hulk Hogan went through a phase where he climbed through the ropes in a feathered boa and gaudy sunglasses.  In retrospect, maybe Ric had a little too much flair.

So what conclusion can a discerning mind make?  Should figure skating be removed from the Olympics, or should pro wrestling be added?  Is there any way to reconcile such opposite fan bases?  Or should we turn our attention to the inevitable collision the two are headed towards? 

Needless to say, I am no longer able to watch one without immediate thoughts of the other.

Which is why - sage entrepreneur that I am - I will be starting a movement to combine the two in a mega-deal not seen since the AFL-NFL merger of 1970.  I don't have all the logistics figured out yet, but my working title is the World Wrestling Capades, and it's going to attract viewers of both genders unlike anything the sports world has ever seen. 

It won't be easy.  I face a Herculean (Hernandez) task in getting the wrestlers to pass USOC drug tests.  And conventional pair skaters are likely to resist having to tag in and out during performances.  But in time, this is going to pay off with a spectacle of spandex, biceps, feathered hair, and ratings not seen since American Gladiator. 

Laugh if you want.  It's already closer than you think.