Yeah brother.
I don't want to say that I didn't know what to expect before my visit to the Pershing Auditorium last Saturday night for TNA wrestling - I knew exactly what I was getting myself into.
When I first walked past the 100 yard line of anxious fans lining the sidewalk outside of the Pershing to get my ticket and media pass, I asked one of the ticket office employees why the line was so long if the event wasn't even sold out.
"Trust me, they're just enjoying themselves," he said.
I had pictured the stereotypical appearance of your average wrestling fan - male, age 18-30, beer gut, questionable hygiene and most likely a T-shirt of their favorite wrestler. Mullet optional.
Once I immersed myself headfirst into the front rows of cheering fans, Bud Light-guzzling fanatics and third graders holding cardboard signs reading, "TNA RULZ," I fully realized how much the vast majority of the crowd did indeed fit my description. I knew this Saturday would be one to remember.
One of the highlights of the night was the second match of the evening - the female bout. The first wrestler, "ODB," resembled a cross between present-day Kirstie Alley and Mufasa from the Lion King. Her radiant blonde locks bounced gracefully as she made her way to the six-sided ring, all while taking generous swigs from her jewel-lined flask.
Her opponent, the very attractive Gale Kim, stood poised for battle. Just before the bell sounded, Jacqueline, a vivacious vixen with huge biceps, made her way to the ring, shouting words of protest: "You two skanks are not gonna have this match tonight!"
This obviously garnered boos from the audience, but Jacqueline didn't relent, screaming into her microphone, addressing the audience, "Shut up! Shut your mouths! Tonight's gonna be a three way!" before clotheslining Mufasa - I mean ODB - across the face.
Beneath the roars and habitual chants of "T-N-A! T-N-A!" from the majority of the crowd, I overheard the high-pitched wail of a small boy, no older than seven, "Come on! Beat the shit outta her!"
After the conclusion of the match, with ODB victorious via choke slam, but not before dousing her mostly exposed breasts with the remainder of the contents in her flask, I went out to the concessions area for a breather.
There I ran into Lincoln resident Dusty Blankenship, a mustache plaid, soft-spoken man in his early thirties. He donned a faded black T-shirt, signed in silver sharpie - most likely from his favorite wrestler, who he later told me was Samoa Joe. "The wrestling's good, the women are still hot, it's just a really (good) time here," he said.
Walking past the T-shirt booth, I realized I could buy a T-shirt to have something tangible to show for the night besides a surprisingly good time, or I could buy four Bud Lights that were only an arm's grasp away from the T-shirt stand.
Tough decision? Not really.
The main highlight of the night was the final match, between Houston native Booker T., and "The Pride Of Wall Street," Robert Roode.
With both wrestlers executing dazzling aerial maneuvers, slamming suplexes and very realistic slugs to the face, the match had seemed to be what many of the fans had shown up for. After the match, the victor, Booker T., circled the ring, standing on the ropes and bowing to the audience.
As he bowed to my side of the arena, I could see the sincere look of appreciation on his face, and that he seemed genuinely happy to be there.
Booker T. slapped hands with audience members, and in the distance I could see a young teenager with a Tracy McGrady jersey on, shouting for Booker T., who was now just a few feet away from him.
As Booker T. approached, I could see the boy's eyes light up as he pulled on the front of his jersey with both hands, and mouthed, "Houston!" "Houston!" while Booker T. walked by him, stopped, and gave the boy a quick one-armed hug before moving on.
After the match, I spoke with Kevin Johnson of Winterset, Iowa. He said that his three sons and he had traveled two-and-a-half hours to come to the event.
"It's my son's birthday, and this is what he wanted to do," Johnson said. "It's a great event for me and my sons, it was really a lot of fun."
On my way out the door, exhausted from a (to my surprise) phenomenally entertaining night of wrestling, I spoke with Mike Larsen of Norchester, an enormous, long-haired man who was just finishing off his last cup of beer as I approached him.
As people were flowing out the exit, I saw another man walk by Larsen, patting him on the shoulder, saying, "Hey man I saw you got to touch him! That's awesome!"
With my curiosity sparked, I asked him who he got to touch.
"A lot people, I don't even know," he said, not really seeming to care. He told me he had won the tickets by a call-in contest with 96 KIX. When asked about the favorite part of his evening, he replied, "Well, it sure as hell wasn't the five dollar beers."
ericvanwyke@dailynebraskan.com
is a member of the 
