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I went to a WWF TV taping with my dad. I believe it was the September 2, 1992 taping in Landover, MD. I was 6 and gushing over the action with little-kid markish excitement. I don't remember what I specifically said to produce his reaction, but my dad chuckled and said, "you know this stuff's fake, right?" I tried to deny it or rationalize how he was wrong at first, but I quickly started to think about things I'd brushed off before--whiffed strikes, dodgy spots--and came to the conclusion over the course of the evening that he must be right. Ultimately, it didn't kill my love for wrestling, but it did let some of the metaphorical air out of my balloon that evening.
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Oct 20, 2021 03:57
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| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 01:48 |
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