Another One Bites the Dust

Three years of long, dark and uneventful winters in Central Maine led me to start taking pictures, intern at Rogues Gallery, start a blog, and most recently watch semi-professional wrestling in a nearby civic center. A flyer tipped my roommates and me off to the night of blows, body slams and pile drivers. I entertained the idea of actually attending the wrestling matches with the same fervor as promising a high school friend to watch the Lord of the Rings Trilogy back to back. As Tuesday turned to Thursday, my alternatives quickly evaporated and the imminence of watching fake tanned men hop around on a glorified trampoline grew from that of a conversation piece with acquaintances to a planned rendezvous with a group of close friends.

Inspired by famous wrestler-turned-politician, Jesse "The Body" Ventura and the granddaddy of Hulkamaniacs, Hulk Hogan, these wrestlers travel around New England on weekends battling it out in bars, civic centers and high school gymnasiums.

Arranged on folding tables surrounding the ring, memorabilia such as these vintage figures, posters and DVD's acted a reminder to the foundations of the sport and a reference point for the character of all of the wrestlers and the attitude of the fans. I am interested in what inspires people, regardless of my personal preferences. The process of inspiration to create is universal, with no specific inputs or outputs but with a transformation as the only consistent part of the equation.

This is Pro Wrestling in Maine!

Pile Driver.

I was surprised by the contrasts between the brightness and optimism of the foundation of the sport and the reality of wrestling now. Wrestlers of old wore bright colors, had goofy hair cuts and had larger than life personas. Today many wrestlers look like they are auditioning for a horror movie.

A close line in the making.

For two and a half hours a dozen men assumed various aliases and romped in front of some 50 or so Mainers. They worked the crowd and screamed.