Dear Gideon,
Thanks for hanging out with me at the AEW event Wednesday night. I know it won’t be long before the last thing you want to do is hang out with your mom.
To be honest, though, not many of the moms we know would want to watch professional wrestling. Er, RASSLIN’ (as it is known in the South).
(You know, if I knocked out some of my teeth, this and the taxidermy would give me the redneck trifecta. You would never know I had a doctoral degree. Yes, I know I’m stereotyping.)
But you and I have watched AEW since it started last year. We HAD to see it live.
Luckily, we like the same characters.
Jungle Boy (i.e., Luke Perry’s kid), Luchasaurus and Marko Stunt (Jurassic Express)? Yes.
Kenny Omega, whose hair looks like sea coral? No.
The Young Bucks, who look like they were coughed up by a Myrtle Beach T-shirt shop? Yes.
MJF, someone’s bratty prep-school little brother? No.
Orange Cassidy, who doesn’t wrestle but roams around looking like a cool knockoff of Macklemore? Sure.
Cody Rhodes, who started AEW, still wrestles and tries to be cool? Sorry, but no. (I know, I know. He’s homegrown. Still.)
Chris Jericho, with attitude to spare? Yes, please.
Sammy Guevara, who always has his tongue out? Hell no.
Our seats were decent, and we got to sit in a group of folks who were ALL IN for Moxley and Hangman Page, whose beer-grabbing is killing us (in a good way).
When they chanted, “This is AWESOME,” we did too.
When they chanted “Asshole” as Wardlow appeared for the cage match against Cody Rhodes (oh the cage match), we didn’t. You’re 13.
When one dude behind us shouted to Rhodes getting his butt whooped in the cage match,” Do less of that!,” we laughed.
We both marveled at Rhodes’ epic finish.
It was a great night watching men in panties fight each other.
I’m so glad we spent it together.
I’ll meet you on the couch for AEW Wednesday night, unless you have baseball practice.
Love,
Mama
At the Marta station, we spotted the lucky fan who scored the shirt Cody Rhodes ripped off his body.
Observe and report 