All right. I admit it. I do. It's not my fault. My husband of three years waited until AFTER we were married to inform me that Monday night was not dedicated to Monday Night Football (as I had previously supposed) but to World Championship Wrestling. After laughing really, really, really hard, I gave in. "Why?" you may ask. Well, the marriage was young and I was willing to compromise, secretly saying to myself "This will always be the dumbest thing on TV and I'll never like it."
This is how it starts. First, you pay no attention whatsoever. Then, this one guy really starts getting on your nerves and you wish someone would beat him up. Then, whoever beats him up gets your attention. Then you start to be able to tell the difference between Big Bubba and Big Poppa Pump. By then, you're in trouble. Once you've paid enough attention to tell wrestlers apart, you've become a "fan".
So, now you're watching WCW every Monday night, but the World Wrestling Federation also has a Monday night show. You'll never see football again, because your second TV is recording WWF so that you can watch in on Tuesday. You've attended a professional wrestling event. You've looked at the shirts and actually bought one. It's over. You're gone.
This formula is tried and true. Bree's boyfriend Rob, one year ago, thought professional wrestling was the dumbest thing and he was secretly saying "I'll never like it." For Christmas, this year, he got the pay-per-view of WCW Starcade for Bree. (Sidebar--did you ever notice men buy what THEY want for Christmas?) He wore his Goldberg shirt. And he's currently looking for tickets to any professional wrestling event in the State of Oklahoma.
Austin 3:16 forever!