In the wacky world of wrestling, the holidays are a time for
festive bikini contests, eggnog protein shakes and beating up Santa
Claus on pay-per-view.
And, of course, the Calgary Sun's own grappling
tradition: The fourth annual TJ Madigan Christmas wish list for the
stars of sports entertainment.
First, for Hulk Hogan, I wish a little spontaneity. You know
wrestling is your true calling when even your reality TV show is fake.
For Stephanie McMahon, I wish acting lessons. If I keep
asking every year, I figure sooner or later, Santa will listen.
For Dusty Adonis, I wish an extended run with the Stampede
Wrestling women's title. His mismatched feud with the ladies of
Stampede is storyline gold.
For Pat and Sylvan, I hope they have themselves a merry
little Christmas. Make the yuletide ... Well, you know how it goes.
For Candice Michelle, Ashley Massaro, Trish Stratus and
Lillian Garcia, I wish things that can't possibly be printed in a
family paper.
For some of the bigger (ahem) wrestlers, I wish good
genetics. They'll be needing them if the crackdown on steroids
continues in 2006.
For the Boogeyman, I wish an irrational fear of something
completely mundane. Like golf carts. Or doors. Anything for continued
comic relief on Monday nights.
For Gene Snitsky, I wish a vat of Clearasil. The 'back acne'
look is SO junior high.
For The Undertaker, I wish a life. No, literally. The guy
has been killed off more times than Kenny on South Park. I'm
surprised Smackdown doesn't end each week with a high-pitched Michael
Cole yelling: "Oh my God, you killed 'Taker...."
For the mid-card TNA guys, I wish personalities. Generic long-
haired wrestler A vs. generic long-haired wrestler B is starting to
get just a little bit old.
For Linda McMahon, I also wish a personality. If she can't be
entertaining when kicking Jim Ross in the family jewels, imagine how
dull those investor conference calls must be.
For Chris Masters, I wish a broken X-Box. Why a broken one,
you ask? Because karma dictates he should have to deal with something
that doesn't work particularly well.
For Road Warrior Animal, I wish a Jenny Craig membership.
For the Ultimate Warrior, I wish a straightjacket.
For Jonathan Coachman, I wish laryngitis.
For Triple H, I wish something to make him look really
stupid. Like a handlebar moustache and mutton chop sideburns ... Oh
wait, he beat me to it.
For Gregory Helms, I wish a new superhero gimmick. The
Hurricane character could (and should) have been a Shark Boy-style
cult favourite.
For Steven Richards, Val Venis and Danny Basham, I wish an
education and/or professional qualification. It'll come in handy
after the next round of talent cuts at WWE.
For Hardcore Holly, I wish a cordless drill. There's nothing like a tool with a little bit of power behind it.
For the entire McMahon family, I wish their own reality show. The Gottis and Osbournes of the world have nothing on the level of dysfunction at Casa McMahon.
And finally, for all the wrestlers mentioned above, I wish a
sense of humour. That way, I won't be the recipient of a steel chair
to the head next time I interview one of them.
