Post by icansleep on Aug 28, 2008 15:58:21 GMT -5
Pro wrestling is one of the few entertainment mediums that can bring all classes (from affulent to poor), all walks of life and all sorts of people of varying intelligence together into one vast arena.
While the thought of fans getting along like "one big, happy family" is a pleasant thought to entertain, there's always one bad apple (or black sheep) in the bunch that looks to disrupt the good vibrations and create a hostile environment.
This thread shall serve as an outlet for every smark who ever felt threatened at a pro wrestling event. Share your tales of dispair, your close calls and the nightmares you've been unable to shake. I'll go first...
Last fall I attended the Smackdown/ECW taping in Minneapolis, shortly after CM Punk (Phil Brooks) had won the ECW Championship. Being fairly critical of the mainstream American wrestling product at the time, a family friend had fallen ill and offered his second deck seat to me, which I begrudgingly accepted. As I settled into my seat near the top of the Target Center, I happened to notice a father and his pre-teen age son sitting a few rows in front of me stare me and my ROH t-shirt down. Not paying any mind to them, I sat through what seemed like the longest 45 minutes of my life until the ECW Main event. When Punk and Stevie Richards (Michael Manna) came out, I stood and marked out...hard. The aforementioned father (rocking a faded Stone Cold University t-shirt) and son (sporting a mall-variety Batista t-shirt) combo, glanced back at me and told me to quiet down. Somebody obviously wasn't familiar with the greatness that was CM Punk - ROH Edition. I soon started smarking off to no one in particular (I was alone), calling Phil and Michael's opponents by their former gimmicks (Kevin Thorne was Mordecai and I kept shouting towards Elijah Burke that he should've taken that spot with the Spirit Squad). Being within earshot of me, it was quite apparent dad and his son had no idea what I was talking about. When the ECW taping had concluded (complete with a Phil and Michael tag team victory), I contemplated leaving before Smackdown would start. But knowing my mom had dinner plans with my stepdad until 8 PM that night, I decided I'd gut the taping out, but not without having a little bit of fun at the expense of my new friends. Or so I thought.
Still smarking, I decided to go into anti-mark mode and cheer for all the heels. This did not sit well with the father and son, who were behind every face that stepped into the ring that night, regardless of who they were. Tensions first begin to rise when I mark out for Mark Henry, who at the time was in a program with The Undertaker (Mark Calloway). I got a few choice words from dad, as sonny boy began throwing trash upwards towards me (and others). I opted to ignore them and continued to be a smark. Things start getting out of hand during the Dave Finlay
and Kane (Glen Jacobs) Irish Street Fight, as I vehemently marked for Fit, angering the father to the point of climbing over empty seats to get in my face and to tell me to "quit acting like a jackass". I'm understandably a little startled at this point, but I think to myself, "Would Kobashi let himself be bullied like this?" Of course not. The turning point in my evening came during the main event, which featured The Great Khali (Dalip Singh) and Dave Bautista (shudder). I began marking out so incredibly hard when Khali locked Batista in the Cranium Crush when I noticed the dad making a beeline back up over the seats. And boy was he furious. I hurriedly grabbed my coat and started rushing towards the aisle and down the stairs. He grabbed me by the arm and tried pulling me back towards him. People in the crowd began to notice what was going on and called for security. As soon as Atlas Security began making their way up the stairs, the man let go of me and I continued to rush towards the exit. I was so scared. There was no telling what that mark dad and his mark son would've done to me. It's been my lone brush with danger thus far in my life and I've vowed to never attend another WWE event again (as I mentioned in one of my YouTube shoot videos before YouTube banned my account).
Feel free to tell your story now.
While the thought of fans getting along like "one big, happy family" is a pleasant thought to entertain, there's always one bad apple (or black sheep) in the bunch that looks to disrupt the good vibrations and create a hostile environment.
This thread shall serve as an outlet for every smark who ever felt threatened at a pro wrestling event. Share your tales of dispair, your close calls and the nightmares you've been unable to shake. I'll go first...
Last fall I attended the Smackdown/ECW taping in Minneapolis, shortly after CM Punk (Phil Brooks) had won the ECW Championship. Being fairly critical of the mainstream American wrestling product at the time, a family friend had fallen ill and offered his second deck seat to me, which I begrudgingly accepted. As I settled into my seat near the top of the Target Center, I happened to notice a father and his pre-teen age son sitting a few rows in front of me stare me and my ROH t-shirt down. Not paying any mind to them, I sat through what seemed like the longest 45 minutes of my life until the ECW Main event. When Punk and Stevie Richards (Michael Manna) came out, I stood and marked out...hard. The aforementioned father (rocking a faded Stone Cold University t-shirt) and son (sporting a mall-variety Batista t-shirt) combo, glanced back at me and told me to quiet down. Somebody obviously wasn't familiar with the greatness that was CM Punk - ROH Edition. I soon started smarking off to no one in particular (I was alone), calling Phil and Michael's opponents by their former gimmicks (Kevin Thorne was Mordecai and I kept shouting towards Elijah Burke that he should've taken that spot with the Spirit Squad). Being within earshot of me, it was quite apparent dad and his son had no idea what I was talking about. When the ECW taping had concluded (complete with a Phil and Michael tag team victory), I contemplated leaving before Smackdown would start. But knowing my mom had dinner plans with my stepdad until 8 PM that night, I decided I'd gut the taping out, but not without having a little bit of fun at the expense of my new friends. Or so I thought.
Still smarking, I decided to go into anti-mark mode and cheer for all the heels. This did not sit well with the father and son, who were behind every face that stepped into the ring that night, regardless of who they were. Tensions first begin to rise when I mark out for Mark Henry, who at the time was in a program with The Undertaker (Mark Calloway). I got a few choice words from dad, as sonny boy began throwing trash upwards towards me (and others). I opted to ignore them and continued to be a smark. Things start getting out of hand during the Dave Finlay
and Kane (Glen Jacobs) Irish Street Fight, as I vehemently marked for Fit, angering the father to the point of climbing over empty seats to get in my face and to tell me to "quit acting like a jackass". I'm understandably a little startled at this point, but I think to myself, "Would Kobashi let himself be bullied like this?" Of course not. The turning point in my evening came during the main event, which featured The Great Khali (Dalip Singh) and Dave Bautista (shudder). I began marking out so incredibly hard when Khali locked Batista in the Cranium Crush when I noticed the dad making a beeline back up over the seats. And boy was he furious. I hurriedly grabbed my coat and started rushing towards the aisle and down the stairs. He grabbed me by the arm and tried pulling me back towards him. People in the crowd began to notice what was going on and called for security. As soon as Atlas Security began making their way up the stairs, the man let go of me and I continued to rush towards the exit. I was so scared. There was no telling what that mark dad and his mark son would've done to me. It's been my lone brush with danger thus far in my life and I've vowed to never attend another WWE event again (as I mentioned in one of my YouTube shoot videos before YouTube banned my account).
Feel free to tell your story now.
That ticket could have gone to somebody who would have actually enjoyed the show. What a waste.
