Backyard Wrestling Club Embarrasses The Good Name of Pro Wrestling Everywhere With A Disgusting Display of Cowardice And Dishonor

There's something beautiful about the backyard wrestling squared circle. You have people whose passion lies only on the canvas and they'd do anything to feel the thrill of being a pro backyard wrestler like my friend and longtime stoolie Raven... quoth him nevermore imo. This match was no different. 

The match began with a traditional lockup. The audience was rightly filled with extremely proud family members, neighbors, and random passersby- all of whom cheered and jeered, caught up in the drama unfolding in front of them. It was more than just physical prowess; it was storytelling. Each move, grip, and fall crafted a new narrative of courage, rivalry, and friendship.

Today, the fellas were ready to show a new move that one of the boys picked up from watching a UFC fight. He was going to do a knee bar variant and it was gonna be his new finishing move. Oh momma. The boys in the backyard were buzzin.

Instead of the smooth move he had envisioned, a foot got tangled in a hanging vine. He crashed to the ground in an ungainly heap, a sharp pain shooting up his leg. He began to weep and begged his partner to stop the fight. He slammed his open hand into the mat over and over. I began to puke at the sight of it. Vomited up my fuckin egg salad. Eggs ain't cheap, bubba. Eggs have gone up tremendously in price so I don't really appreciate wasting three-quarters of a dozen of them thangs. 

Next thing ya know, all hell broke loose. We saw something that no one who loves wrestling wants to see. They broke kayfabe. Worse than that, the wrestler called wrestling "play wrestling" in front of an audience of family members, neighbors, and random passersby. SAD! That's the cardinal rule of wrestling. It's real. It is always real even when it's fake. 

Now, I understand getting kicked in the face by someone wearing wrestling boots probably sucks but I have one question and one question alone. 

If the answer is no, you shut the fuck up and wrestle. You take your shredded-ass ankle, knee, or hip and shove that bitch back into your boot and finish the goddamn match in character. You sell the kick to the face a little more and use that as fuel to give the best damn match of your miserable life. You simply be the star you were meant to be. 

Instead, our pussy performer headed back to his 2005 Honda Civic and cried about what could have been if it weren't for that ankle lock. Pathetic. 

If you wanna be a backyard wrestler, be one. But don't step into the ring if you arent ready to fight for your ankle's life while keeping on a brave face that honors the legacy of the late Terry Funk. Terry Funk would never, ever break character like this because he respects wrestling like we all do. I think the limping leeming needs to be banned from that backyard for life.