Iâ€™m not going to review the entire Wrestlemania event, because, well, I didnâ€™t watch the whole thing (does anyone in the world actually watch the whole thing?). I came in around the time that Batista was laying a Batista Bomb on Umaga, which saddened me, because I dig Umaga. The whole WWE aesthetic has moved much too far in the direction of these shaven, roid-raging, oiled-up, fake-tanned, pretty-boy slabs for my taste. I just spent a week in San Francisco and let me tell you something â€“ that Cena-Triple H-Orton three-way last night looked like something they would play on a big-screen down in the Castro for general titillation. Increasingly it seems to me like thereâ€™s a very thin line between professional wrestling and gay soft porn. Let me have wrestlers about me who are fat and weird-looking. Umaga forever.
The Ric Flair/Shawn Michaels blubberfest was a little overwrought but on the whole entertaining, the highlight of the evening for me. After an endless seesaw battle (lots of moonsaults and torturous figure fours) Michaels ended the Nature Boyâ€™s career (it was, after all, A Career Threatening Match) with some well-placed high-kicks to the head that looked more real than anything I saw all night. Before dishing out the killing blow, Michaels said to Flair, â€œIâ€™m sorryâ€¦ I love you,â€ and then sha-ZAM, expressed his love in a most curious fashion. At that point, the stadium-wide waterworks flowed like Niagara as ole Naitch basked in the crowdâ€™s love for one last moment of glory. My only complaint was that Brett Favre didnâ€™t appear at that moment to help Flair walk out of the ring. Just imagine the man-weeping at a Favre/Flair double farewell.
Of course, as a boxing guy the main event of the evening for me was the Floyd Mayweather/Big Show showdown, a match that ended up feeling like little more than an afterthought to the onslaught of hype. Money Mayâ€™s outfit was admittedly ill â€“ a leather-and-fur get-up that was half pimp, half Mad Max, and all ghetto fabulous. His ring entrance was strong, which is important in a sport where ring entrances are almost always infinitely more interesting than the matches that follow them.
True to form, after Floyd actually got in the ring next to nothing happened for about ten minutes. Floyd landed a lot of meaningless fake punches, Big Show picked Floyd up and stepped on him and walked over him a few times. There was a tedious Floyd-strangling-Show interlude that didnâ€™t fool anybody. Moneyâ€™s posse tried to drag him out of there to save him â€“ Big Show dragged him back. In the end, Floyd used some brass knuckles to knock Big Show out, and that was that. Iâ€™m curious to know what WWE aficionados out there thought about this performance, because to me, a wrestling neophyte, it seemed straight-up wackatronic to the nth degree of wack. And I like Floyd. But last nightâ€™s mundane walk-through made me hope he gets back into the boxing ring real soon, and that when he does he gets KTFO.â†µ
This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.