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The Daily Wildcat

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The Daily Wildcat

The Daily Wildcat


    WWE body slams TCC-an inside look at a professional wrestling match


    In Thursday’s “”WWE body slams TCC”” in the online edition of WildLife, it was stated that Elijah Burke was a member of the tag team Cryme Tyme. Cryme Tyme is actually made up of JTG and Shad Gaspard. The Wildcat regrets the error.

    On Tuesday night I was lucky enough to experience something that only an elite few even know about, let alone get to try for themselves.

    It was that night that World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) came to the TCC to broadcast an hour long live show, and then tape a two hour episode of Smackdown that will air on Friday night.

    For those three action packed hours I was not only an observer, but also technically an actual employee of the WWE. Apparently professional wrestling’s biggest juggernaut could not sell out our humble TCC, so friends of TCC employees were able to get free tickets to fill seats.

    Sounds simple right?

    Once we got to the event we were greeted by a WWE TV producer, who told us that for the next three hours we were his personal property. He told us to ignore anyone other than him, and to be ready to move when he said move. For ten minutes he lectured us on the fact that he was in charge, and to look for him during the event. He then handed out our free tickets and told us to be in our seat at 7:35.

    Then we were set loose into the arena.

    7:25: After finding our seats, which we on the floor about 15 rows from the ring, I decided to check out the merchandise. After elbowing my way between an agitated twelve year old in a bright red mask and a 300-pound woman with a beer in each hand, I found out that for a scant 250 dollars, I could own a replica of the Heavyweight title belt. Unfortunately I only brought 20, so I decided to get a beer instead.

    7:45: The ring announcer tells the whole crowd that we’ll be live in ninety seconds, and the first match of the night begins.

    7:58: After the first match and then few minutes of WWE commercials on the big screen, the ring announcers tells us to get ready, because we’ll be live on Sci-Fi in ninety seconds. Confused, we cheer again, and then the fireworks go off and the real show begins.

    8:02: The show opens with the billionaire egomaniac Vince McMahon himself. Vince insults Tucson as a whole, and then promises to deliver a “”Billionaire Bitch Slap”” to Donald Trump.

    8:16: The first important match begins, as Balls (yes, Balls) Mahoney battles Hardcore Holly. Despite the rousing chants of “”Balls! Balls! Balls!”” provided by the fans, including the middle-aged mother of three in front of me, Balls dropped to the mat for the three count in this one.

    8:25: Rob Van Dam battles Elijah Burke, one half of the tag team “”Cryme Tyme,”” a pair of African Americans proudly standing against the negative stereotypes that exist and setting a wonderful examples for the kids in attendance.

    8:40: The one and only Stone Cold Steve Austin comes to ringside, saying it was good to be “”home”” in Tucson, (Austin lives in Texas, but come on, who’s paying attention anyway?), and drinking at least 12 beers while in the ring.

    9:00: The live show ends with a grand total of two matches in an hour and change, and still no sign of our friend in the headset, although we’ve been yelled at by security twice now for standing.

    9:01: The Smackdown taping begins, with roughly the same number of fireworks as the Macy’s 4th of July Spectacular, but since we’re indoors after the first three explosions all anyone can see is a lot of smoke.

    9:13: After King Booker and Matt Hardy finish the first match the show goes to commercial break, despite the fact that it’s not a live event.

    9:16: Still in commercial. Security threatens to remove a kid three rows in front of us if he doesn’t sit down. The kid is probably around six years old and clutching a sign reading “”‘Taker is my hero.””

    9:18: Finally Smackdown resumes, with a video feed of action in the dressing room. After two minutes of talking about potential Wrestlemania action, a new commercial break begins.

    9:22: Still in commercial, contemplating leaving when I’m nearly yanked off my feet by a cameraman dragging cables behind him. Of course, he turned around and glares at me, because it was my fault that his six pounds of cable is whipping around.

    9:46: After a forgettable match and a bad in-ring interview, finally we get a match worth watching as the WWE heavyweight champ Batista, listed at 6’5″”, 290 lbs battled Kane. After a surprisingly exciting match in which the seven foot tall Kane jumped off the top rope not once but twice, Batista eventually managed to get all 326 pounds of Kane onto his shoulders and power bomb him for the win.

    10:02: After foolishly betting on Kane to win, I fork over the 12 bucks it costs to buy myself and my roommate a beer, which actually came in a red plastic cup.

    10:30: Two and half hours of wrestling is starting to wear on me, and I’m just beginning to lose any interest in what’s happening, when Mike “”The Miz”” from MTV’s Real World comes to the ring. Already out of my seat and into the aisle, I take one last look back, only to see WWE diva Ashley reveal her Playboy cover to the world. I return to my seat and watch patiently, occasionally hurling obscenities at the Miz.

    10:45: The main event, Finlay v. The Undertaker, is underway, and I must admit, when the lights go dark and the bells toll to announce ‘Taker’s entrance, I had a goose bumps.

    10:54: Actually paying attention to the match, I’m yanked from my seat by the TV producer who I hadn’t seen in the two hours and fifty minutes prior, and he drags me halfway around the arena, pointing to seven empty seats in the fourth row and saying “”Fill those.”” I thought about lying across the seats but figured it would only fill five, so I just stood instead.

    11:01: The event is over and the crowd begins to disperse. Two drunken meatheads outside barrel into me and nearly knock the woman walking next to me to the ground, wrestling over a WWE belt. After an older dude in a mullet yells at them and an old woman in wearing a shirt that says “”F*ck Fear”” shakes her head and tells us all, “”No class,”” I hop into my roommate’s Jeep, and consider my WWE experience complete.

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