As I try to conquer my anxiety, I challenged myself to do something that I was afraid to do. I decided to look back at the days of my youth and love of Professional Wrestling. I always wanted to attend one of the local shows. Philadelphia being a hotspot for the genre, I put on my big girl boots, and dragged an overly eager friend to the "House of Hardcore". House of Hardcore or HOH is an independent promotion run by Tommy Dreamer, a wrestler known for his stint in Philadelphia staple Extreme Championship Wrestling or ECW (picture below).
The show was held at the 2300 Arena, formerly known as Vikings hall or the Old ECW arena. Recently it was renovated to add a restaurant of sorts as well as for modernization. I overheard the hardcore fans talking about how much of a dump the place use to be but the memories they had of days gone by could not be replaced. The entrance way for the wrestlers was pretty cool despite the small size of the area.
As the seat s began to fill, I realized I was the odd man (woman?) out. Dressed in capri pants and a boyfriend shirt, I looked as though I was ready to take a stroll along the coastline of New England while everyone else, well... My accomplice made it known to me that I was dressed like a Sunday school teacher. I've never seen genuine mullets before but today was a new day and a new experience to be had dammit! I put away my sudden need to be the fashion police ( as my fashion sense has been questioned most of my life) and realized that we were all here for one reason: Wrestling!
I will not do a full review but the crowd was "lively" and I was getting nervous. Legends of the business the Rock and Roll Express, Bubba Ray of the Dudley Boys( one of my favorite tag teams growing up)injected life into the show when needed. When things slowed down, the crowd let the performers know in some of the cruelest chants.The guy cleaning the rings was booed for missing a spot. Mangus, a wrestler from Global Force Wrestling was verbally assaulted simply because of his choice of boots. "F#ck you Mangus and your pleather boots" still rings in my ears
Despite the hostile crowd, which I was reminded by the people around me, was pretty calm compared to the "Good ole' days", the men in my section were very nice and explained the backstory of wrestlers I didn't recognize and gave me an updated biography of those that I did. This helped calmed my heart and mind, allowing me to give in and really get into the show. I was accepted, bridging the gap between hardcore and"casual" fan. Hell I was chanting "You fat F#ck" too. I had fun and I plan to go to more local shows as my fear of crowds begins to diminish.
Until next time,
IS