Wrestling with demons

I wrote a story earlier this week about how the WWE -- that's Worldwide Wrestling Entertainment for those who don't know a turnbuckle from a flying scissors kick -- and it reminded me of my teen years growing up on Long Island and a huge fan of wrestling.

Sure, we all knew it was fake, but the theatrics were just so much fun. I remember watching it once a month on cable from a sold out Madison Square Garden, and then our whole family went one night to the Nassau Coliseum to witness the action live and in person.

Abruzzi, Italy's favorite son, Bruno Sammartino, was the reigning champ for many of the years that I was a devotee of the squared circle (as announcer and future WWE guru Vince McMahon would call it).

But it wasn't just Bruno who I rooted for. Fellas such as Ivan "Polish Power" Putski, Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka, Andre the Giant, Haystacks Calhoun, Bob Backlund (another champ) and S.D. "Special Delivery" Jones were all favorites, among many others. As for the best of the tag teams, there was the legendary Chief Jay Strongbow and his partner, Billy Whitewolf.

The bad guys consisted of "Magnificent" Don Moracco, Big Bob Duncan, Baron Scicluna (from the Isle of Malta, no less!), "Superstar" Billy Graham and, the one and only George "The Animal" Steele.

Wrestling got hugely popular in the mid-80s and early '90s when Hulk Hogan became champ and lost of all of its charm. I gave up on it then but it still holds a place in my heart, reminding me of a time where I'd do anything to stay up to midnight on a Saturday night, hoping to catch the local broadcast, where guys would be flying off the ropes and landing dropkicks aplenty.