My husband loves professional wrestling.
I think it’s important to put that out there. It’s more of a point of shame for me than it is for him. The idea of a nearly 40 year old man watching men and women throw each other around pretend fighting in costumes is embarrassing.
Whenever the WWE comes to Sydney, Jamie buys ringside seats for him and his dad. They buy t-shirts of their favorite wrestlers and they go to the autograph events to take selfies with these people.
For some perspective, we have had dinner with three Australian Prime Ministers and my husband has never once shown any interest or excitement about it, but Randy Orton makes his tummy flutter like a schoolgirl.
I’ve never paid attention to it, he and his dad were into it while he was growing up and now into adulthood, so I decided to just let them have it.
A few weeks back, we were not allowed to go out on the Public Holiday Monday for Australia Day because Royal Rumble was on pay-per-view. Jamie doesn’t make many “demands” but he insisted that I make no plans for him because his dad was coming over to watch the event with him.
His mom and my mom took the girls out that day because our mothers had not caught up in a while, so I got this weird vibe that “Beth was not invited”.
I stayed home, sat on the armchair with my iPad, and quietly mocked the wrestling under my breath while Jamie and his dad talked about who was going to come into the ring next, how some woman “missed her spot”, and a bunch of other nonsense that didn’t mean anything.
As the match started to wind down, I was reading an article about using coconut oil as an anal lubricant because I’m a horny bitch. Suddenly out of the blue, this music starts playing to alert the audience that a new wrestler would soon be running down to the ring to have their thirty seconds in the spotlight, but my husband yelled at the top of his lungs, “YEEEEEEEES!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him him jump from a sitting position, nearly a metre in the air, landing on his feet
standing up with his arms fully extended out and his fingers making that ridiculous “rock on” sign where your index finger and pink are aloft.
His father is sitting there on the couch saying, “No way! NO WAY!”
Jamie is yelling and screaming. Then him and his dad are hugging.
I finally shout at them, “What the fuck is going on?”
The music is still playing, there are fireworks on TV, and some blonde beefcake with fantastic hair is staring down the barrel of the camera looking like a stunned mullet.
Jamie looks at me and screams directly at me, “IT’S EDGE!!!!”
His dad is saying, “The Rated-R Superstar!!!”
My confusion turned to irritation and finally to hilarity as these two grown men, one nearly 40 and the other in his mid 60s are freaking out about a pretend fighter entering a pretend fighting match on TV.
I began to laugh hysterically.
Then I noticed that Jamie, my husband of nearly 15 years had tears coming out the corners of his eyes. Now him and his dad are hugging and saying how they can’t believe it. The announcer on TV is saying he can’t believe it.
I couldn’t believe it either, I’d never seen Jamie cry, not even once, and for some reason this wrestler had made him cry.
I got up and went to the kitchen and stayed there until after the match was over, I had no idea what was going on and I was worried if I asked, one of them might body slam me or suplex me onto the dining table.
After dinner that night, when we finished putting the girls to bed, I asked Jamie what that whole Edge thing was all about.
Turns out that this wrestler, Edge, had a severe neck injury, had to retire, and had similar fusion surgery to what Jamie had. He was away from wrestling for ten years and now, at 46 years old, he’s come back, and I have to say, he’s in phenomenal shape when I took the time to check him out.
I mock wrestling as pretend, but it is seriously physical and those men and women take some pretty hard falls, so they are athletes without question.
But for Jamie, Edge is so much more.
Jamie was a similar age when he had his accident as Edge was when he retired. Jamie has had to give up a lot because of what he went through.
To see this guy comeback and look as good as new and compete physically at such a high level, had to be overwhelming and inspiring.
In the three weeks since that moment, Jamie booked in to see his spinal surgeon and has asked his GP for clearance to begin training with more weights, something he had to give up and that he misses.
I still feel bad about mocking him, but if this guy in lycra pants with amazing hair helps my husband feel better about himself and more empowered, then that’s awesome.
Good to see you and Jamie finding a common reason to appreciate WWE. Do you find coconut oil a good anal lubricant?
Yes :)