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THE BROAD PERSPECTIVE
She Must Be in the Front Row
March 10, 2004

by Erin Anderson
Exclusive to OnlineOnslaught.com

 

Every wrestling fan, just once, should get the chance to sit in the front row for a live show. I have no grand thesis for this edition of the Broad Perspective, but instead would like to share my general thoughts and impressions from my live WWE experience; that sort of thing best lends itself to bullet points. I know that it's Rick's shtick, but I'd like to respectfully borrow it just this once.
  • Before last Monday night, I had been to two RAWs, two Smackdown!s, and one pay-per-view. But sitting in the front row for the March 1 RAW was the most fun I ever had at any live event, concerts and football games included. 
     

  • I attended the show with a rather large group, of which I was the only woman. I wish I could adequately explain to the male audience exactly what it feels like to be a female at a live wrestling event (or worse, at Hooters for a pay-per-view). I imagine it's the same sort of feeling that a straight man would have at a Celine Dion concert or a taping of the Oprah Winfrey Show: everyone thinks that you were dragged to the event by your significant other. From what I could see, there were approximately five other women in attendance at the Gwinnett Center.
     

  • It was actually a disappointment to arrive after the doors had been unlocked. At the last live event in the same venue, everyone was treated to a backyard-style wrestling match between two of the fans while we all waited in line. One of the "wrestlers" is a young kid that my group has affectionately nicknamed HardyTaker: he looks like a cross between Jeff Hardy and the old-school Undertaker. We see him at Hooters for every pay-per-view, dressed in the same cut-up shirts and armbands of the younger Hardy. He tops off his fashion masterpieces with dyed black hair, pale skin, gloves, and black eyeliner and lipstick. If his "match" was any indication, he also has a penchant for blowing spots.
     

  • We did, however, see HardyTaker across the arena once we sat down. It somehow made the evening feel complete.
     

  • Nothing notable happened during the dark matches, aside from a certain tag team that wrestled in bowling attire. They had the outfits nailed, from the shirts airbrushed with "City Champions" on the back, all the way down to the shoes. I think they were supposed to be heels, but we cheered for them anyway. It's hard to ignore that kind of dedication to wardrobe, even if a couple of real bowlers probably could have put on a better match.
     

  • Let me just say now that there is no better way to open a live show than with Stone Cold Steve Austin, especially when the audience thinks that they'll be forced to listen to a La Resistance promo instead. Yes, Austin's segment with Vince McMahon may have been pointless and did nothing substantial to build up the Goldberg/Lesnar match. Who cares? It was fun and the crowd loved it, even if the acoustics were so bad that I had to go back and watch the tape to understand what the hell Austin was saying.
     

  • I'd like to send a giant "Fuck You" to Trish Stratus and Jerry Lawler for ever suggesting that Molly Holly is fat or has a big ass. While the male wrestlers generally look bigger in person than they do on television, the opposite is true for the women. Molly is, in fact, quite tiny and has a figure that most women would kill for. 
     

  • On that same note, Stacy Kiebler is a lovely girl, but looks as if she weighs no more than eight ounces. I'm quite surprised that the force of Kane's pyrotechnics didn't send her flying out of the ring and into the rafters. If you're reading this, Stacy, a Twinkie wouldn't kill you.
     

  •  Victoria's ass is way more over than Victoria herself. She should walk to the ring backwards if she wants a better crowd reaction.
     

  • During the Rosey/Hurricane v. Cade/Jindrak match, there was a mass exodus of fans, flocking to the bathrooms and beer stands. Why WWE chose to put this match on RAW while relegating Bubba/D-Von v. Storm/Venis to Heat will forever remain an unsolved mystery. Bubba surprised everyone in that match by showing a moveset more varied and interesting than anyone else at the IC level. He chain-wrestled with Lance Storm, pulled out german suplexes, side headlock takedowns, sunset flips… it's a damn shame to know that the company bungled Bubba's singles push when it's obvious that he has the in-ring talent and promo ability.
     

  • The best way to describe Batista after seeing him in person is "A Walking Steroid." 
     

  • Batista later became a Flying Steroid when he was knocked off the ring apron and hit the barricade directly in front of me. I get the feeling that if I had been leaning forward, I might have been killed.
     

  • My proudest moment as a wrestling fan is getting the "Orton Fears Jeb" sign on television. I urge any OO readers attending live events to make similar signs and continue the trend. As an added bonus, it'll start to freak Randy out after a while.
     

  • My mother watched some of the show on TV specifically to see me in the crowd. She later asked me about Christian, mentioning that she thought it was awful that he would hurt a woman like he hurt Trish. After explaining that she just takes really great bumps and wasn't on the show to sell her injuries, Mom said, "Oh. You know, I thought that guy was gay. Is he gay?" I love my mother.
     

  • Note to Jericho: either completely tuck your shirt in, or don't bother at all. I'm a huge fan, but you looked like a tool.
     

  • I expect to hear women screaming obsessively over Shawn Michaels at a wrestling show. I didn't expect to hear a man do the same, but during HBK's tag match, a man two rows behind me unrelentingly screamed for Michaels: "You're the man, Shawn! I love you!" Finally I turned around and saw the source of the screams: a bearded, tattooed, 60ish biker. I still don't know how Shawn managed to keep a straight face when the man yelled out an invitation to take Shawn out for a hamburger.
     

  • During the same match, we noticed that Benoit had not yet thrown a single chop. Disappointed, one of my friends yelled out, "Chop his ass!" while the Wolverine was fighting Batista. Three seconds later, he complied. I love Benoit.
     

  • Austin, Foley, and Rocky in the same ring once cameras stop rolling with microphones in hand = GOLD. If I may be sincere for a moment, I would like to thank all three of those men (and Lillian Garcia) for spending 45 extra minutes in the ring to entertain the fans and give them far more than their money's worth. Extra effort like that is the reason I love wrestling.
     

  • Surprisingly, the most realistic wrestling hold of the night came from a security guard during the post-show festivities. An eager, inebriated fan gave us all a good laugh when he managed to get his sizable gut over the railing and attempted to get in the ring. Within two seconds, a security guard appeared out of nowhere and slapped on a vicious-looking chokehold that would have made Stu Hart proud.
     

  • I had two memorable interactions with Ric Flair, the first of which happened just as the Rock dropped a People's Elbow on Randy Orton. Flair had been sent to the outside and had his back against the barricade, a foot or two to my left. He reached back to the top of the railing to pull himself up, and instead got a handful of the Broad's Rack. Yes, Ric Flair felt me up, and I'm starting to wonder if it really was an accident.
     

  • The second is a moment that I would gladly pay to have on tape, but occurred after the show went off the air. Flair had been mercilessly heckled all night by most of the men in the front row, especially the three sitting directly to my left. He got in a few choice words when the cameras were rolling, but the real show came later. Flair had second thoughts about walking up the entrance ramp with Evolution and came back to yell at the guys some more; you haven't lived until Flair is six inches from you, screaming that he's going to fuck your mother. Naturally, I was laughing my ass off as he moved down the front row, yelling at each person in turn. When he came to me, he did a rather comical double-take when he realized he was about to scream at a smiling, unthreatening woman. He blinked at me for a moment with an "Oh Shit" look on his face before turning and walking off.
     

  •  In conclusion, Flair is God. Enjoy Wrestlemania.
      

E-MAIL ERIN
BROWSE THE BROAD'S ARCHIVES

Erin Anderson is an Atlanta native and a student at Georgia State University. Since writing about wrestling didn't go over too well with her English professors, she vents here at Online Onslaught.


  
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