I recently updated my b5 profile with the intention of explaining how www.jabandgrapple.com could cover both the scripted fun of pro wrestling entertainment and the unexpected life-threating tension of professional boxing. My answer wasn’t that they both take place in rings and involve some sort of combat.

No, my explanation was that they are bookends of the sporting world with everything else existing in between their emotional bounds. Friday night was evidence of this evocative breadth. WWE’s SmackDown and ESPN’s Friday Night Fights were broadcast simultaneously and my Motorola DVR only allowed me to watch one at a time while taping both. I was forced to delve into both without distraction.

First up was the glorious costumed cabaret fun of SmackDown. The Undertaker was trying to take revenge out on a supposedly wheelchair-bound lady. People were fired, lives were affected, fear, trouble, mayhem, betrayal and loss were the pervasive themes.

We all know, however, that the situations were fake. That in the end the performers’ lives aren’t affected as far as career longevity and/or actual intended danger. Sure, unexpected tragedies can and have occurred but The Undertaker’s choke slam really isn’t endangering opponents; the Great Khali wasn’t really bleeding profusely from the mouth a few weeks ago. Their career paths are decided by scriptwriters and their salary, however modest, isn’t dependent on them winning.

Once SmackDown ended I switched over to the very real career arc of Chris Byrd, a 37-year-old who had just lost 37 pounds in an attempt to compete at the light heavyweight level. Things didn’t work out that well for the former heavyweight champion as he was beaten badly and knocked out in the ninth round. Byrd then deliriously apologized to his wife and handsome young son; he felt he had let them down.

The drama was real, the pain evident, and the tragedy too much to bear. Here was a man who put his life on the line in the ring and couldn’t bear the failure that he wrongly perceived himself to be.

Shortly after the fight doctors diagnosed Byrd with a separated shoulder and administered painkillers. Then the situation nosedived. His wife explained to ESPN, “They gave him Valium and morphine and we couldn’t wake him up,” she continued. “I was so scared. We had to rush him to the hospital.”

Byrd was revived late Friday night and returned home but the psychological pain will not end. Byrd will presumably not fight again at least not on the same championship level he was accustomed. He understands that he should retire.

His opponent Shaun George added after the fight “There’s going to come a point where you have to give it up. That’s the hard part because you love the sport. It’s sad for anybody, but especially someone like Byrd who is a two-time heavyweight champion.”

For me, the pathos was too much to bear, especially after watching its polar opposite at SmackDown.

So I turned the channel to the end of the Boston Celtics-Cleveland Cavs playoff game. I love the NBA but after the Byrd fight it seemed so superficial and so far removed from man’s essential struggle. So scripted and so much closer to pro wrestling than what I had just viewed.

Lives aren’t going to be affected by the Celtics loss no matter how angsty Kevin Garnett portrays himself; no matter how aloof and affected Ray Allen appears to be. They’ll pull in their guaranteed million dollar contract accept their loss, continue performing to David Stern’s script, move on and compete until their bodies can’t move. Just like Bruno Sammartino, just like Hulk Hogan and just like Ric Flair.

If Chris Byrd were to go back in the ring he might be killed, the fact that he’s still an elite boxer doesn’t matter. His skills just aren’t elite enough.

Think I’m off base? Comment below and tell me what you think.

Photo Source: Newscom.com

Post from: EveryJoe

The Real Drama of Boxing vs. the Fake Drama of the WWE and the NBA

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In case you missed it, this Baltimore Sun Ring Posts blog interview with all-time pro wrestling great Bruno Sammartino is essential reading, especially for the young fans who might not remember the historic wrestling greats.

Sammartino is Mickey Mantle, he’s Willie Mays, he’s Al Kaline. He’s a throwback to the golden age of a sport before it became a money making extravaganza. Personally, I never enjoyed his 1980’s matches because I was always told about how great he was and he just seemed like a grumpy old man whose time had left him behind and who should have left ages ago. Sort of like how Ric Flair looked a few months ago.

Nevertheless, that doesn’t take away the importance of his historic role. So read up kids, the wrestling world didn’t begin with Shawn Michaels and the Undertaker.

Post from: EveryJoe

Must-Read Bruno Sammartino Interview