Wordsmoker

There I was, ten years old, getting ready for the biggest event of my lifetime: Wrestlemania. I sat in front of the TV with a container of Oreos, along with my plastic wrestling ring and my rubber Titan Sports wrestling figures. There was nothing else I wanted in life. The odor coming off of the figures was one that would make any ten-year-old think he was in heaven. I awaited the infamous promo of Hulk Hogan telling me to eat my raw eggs and Superfly Snuka giving me the three finger salute when I saw a figure appear on the television screen with sunglasses and long hair. This man would become an icon to me—I even impersonated him in the mirror for years to come. His beautiful manager, Elizabeth, was one who would make any preteen blush. It was only three years later when I knew that she would complete my first orgasm.

This man Savage only had to utter the words, “Ohh Yeah!!!” and it was as if he had just told me I had won the lottery. There was no greater pleasure than seeing him jump off the top rope with a flying elbow to “finish” his opponent. He became my idol . . .

Fast forward to today when we mourn the loss of Randy Savage, AKA Macho Man, AKA Randy Poffo, who lost his life to a heart attack. So while everyone else was planning the end of the world, I was sitting in front of my TV and watching old matches with Savage. We’ll miss you Macho Man.

Randall Mario Poffo (November 15, 1952 – May 20, 2011)