Okay, I promise I'll cool it on the wrestling stuff for a while... AFTER today. Today is Wrestlemania! It's a holiday for anyone who loves pro wrestling. In fact, it was, more or less, treated like an actual holiday in my family. So, gather round, it's time to recall my days of watching Wrestlemania with my family.
I have been a wrestling fan all of my life. Where some kids had teddy bears, I had a stuffed Hulk Hogan (and a teddy bear. And a white pony. But the Hulk thing is more relevant.) I organized a wrestling league in my playground sandbox, much to the chagrin of my teachers. I grew up wanting to be a superhero. Not like Superman or Spider-Man. I wanted to be like Hulk Hogan or the Ultimate Warrior.
So, when I was in college, I would visit my family on holidays. All the big ones. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and of course, Wrestlemania. Just like any of the other holidays, there's tradition, family, and lots of food. I'd load up with my non-biological brother Shawn, maybe a few other friends, and drive two hours to my old home town.
We'd get there the night before, drop off our stuff, relax, and watch the traditional Hall of Fame induction ceremony where wrestling legends were honored the night before Wrestlemania.
Then it happened. Wrestlemania day. Food galore. Family all at rapt attention. And of course, the annual contract between my mother and the rest of the family that she wouldn't spend the evening complaining if Undertaker lost.
The fireworks hit. The music starts. Wrestlemania. Stories that had been building up all year culminated. My family argued about who would win. We'd lean in from our chairs. It was... special.
Sadly, those days are over. My parents passed away, but still, tonight, I'm sitting in front of my TV, lots of bad food, next to the most wonderful woman in the world, and we will watch. We will remember the great times. And we will move toward even better ones.
Thanks for reading.
And don't forget to be awesome!
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Keep your eyes open for my debut novel, The Paladin.