I’m a Gemini. Allegedly, Geminis are excellent communicators, have understanding and enquiring minds, a wealth of creative ideas and a need to have those ideas understood. This is underpinned by a fierce competitive streak. Oh and we love a good fight debate too. So basically, if you don’t think I’m awesome, I’ll find a way of talking you into believing I am. If that doesn’t work, I’ll just kick you in the shins.
In addition, being the sign of the twins, living as a Gemini gives us multiple personalities. Not in a mentally unstable way, just in a ‘has-interests-in-things-which-are-contradictory-to-each-other’ way. And it’s pretty true. I’d be just as happy baying for blood behind the plexi-glass at a hockey game as I would curled up on the sofa with a duvet and the Bridget Jones’s Diary DVD.
Geminis are walking contradictions, so it should come as no surprise that I have equal amounts of love for professional wrestling and Strictly Come Dancing (that’s Dancing with the Stars to everyone outside the British TV sphere.) On the surface, ballroom dancing and wrestling could not be more different. One is an elegant, graceful, physical expression of love, the other a violent, aggressive combination of sweat and overdeveloped muscles. But giving this a little more thought, maybe they’re not so different.
Don’t believe me? I have evidence.
THE IN CROWD
Nobody cares if you wrestle like a sea-cow or dance like you’ve got prosthetic limbs. (No offense, Heather Mills). If the audience falls in love with you, you’re going to be around for a long time. Welsh boxer Joe Calzaghe’s dancing prowess during the very first week of this year’s Strictly was appalling. I mean, seriously, how can a man who boxes for a living have that little rhythm? But Wales loves him. He’s our hero. So we picked up our phones to stop him from being sent for an early bath.
Does anybody claim that John Cena is the best wrestler in the business? Don’t be ridiculous. But that doesn’t mean he’s not one of the most recognisable and popular faces in the industry, swinging through each show with bundles of personality and his boyish good looks. It’s not what you’ve got, but how you present it.
Garish, skin-tight costumes with extravagant diamante embellishment are a must in both dancing and wrestling. The more bedazzled and sparkly your pants are the better. If you think you might have glue-gunned one too many sequins to your skin, throw and extra handful on and shine! You’re a superstaaaah!
SMILE LIKE YOU MEAN IT
What’s that? You’ve torn your achilles? Again? Get back to work, wrestle-monkey, and make it look like you’re enjoying yourself. Say what? You’ve got blisters the size of golf balls on your toes? I couldn’t care less. Get on that dancefloor and smile through the pain. I hate my job too, but I don’t let my face show it when people walk in. I save my career-based tedium for Twitter. Like every wrestler that ever signed up to a Twitter account.
GLOW, BABY. GLOW!
It seems that, unless you’re John Cena and Sheamus, it is mandatory these days for wrestlers to get a fake tan. I assume it comes out of the whole body-building philosophy that tanned skin gives muscles extra definition. But the number of wrestling tanorexics continues to rise at an alarming rate. Personally, if I ever reach the pathetic fantasy of Divas status, I think I’ll just shun tanning. I’ll be my thing. Nobody would actually believe someone from Wales could have a genuine tan anyway. Do you know how little direct sunlight we get a day?
I’ve gone off topic. What was I doing? Oh yeah. Ballroom dancing. Yeah, apparently you’re a dancefloor embarrassment if you haven’t got leathery, orange skin. A shameful practice. That’s why I can’t foxtrot like a pro. I refused to glow and they threw me out of dance class.
ONCE UPON A TIME…..
This one’s my favourite, because it allows me to quote Triple H, who happens to be doing a stirling job of keeping my brain occupied while asleep at the moment. It’s all about telling a story and drawing the audience into your tale, taking them away from their usually mundane lives for a few fleeting moments. To quote that giant Lothario, “What do we do in the ring, from the time we walk through the curtain to the time we walk back through the curtain? We tell a story. But we don’t tell it with words we tell it with our bodies.” If you actually understand that, congratulations, you just graduated from wrestle-fan college. If you don’t Mr. Levesque explains in more detail here……
So too with dancing. The rumba, for example, tells a story of deep, intense, sensual love that cannot be denied. The paso doble tells the story of a bullfight, where the man moves his partner as if she was his cape, taunting his bovine opponent with her dramatic movements. And, just like wrestling, the story starts from the moment they walk out from behind the velvet curtain, until the music tells them to stop. Purely for my own enjoyment, one of the best rumba performances ever, danced to one of the greatest love songs ever written. Watch it, and remember, there’s a story. *SIGH**DOUBLE SIGH**TRIPLE SIGH*
Both wrestling and Strictly are highly addictive. And once you pick up the habit it’s VERY hard to kick. I’ve tried not watching Strictly, but the promise of seeing people who can’t dance somehow transform into pirouetting pictures of grace gives me hope that I could do the same. It’s impossible to quit.
As for wrestling, that’s a total lost cause. You might as well just hook me up to an intravenous wrestle drip for the rest of my life. You know things are bad when you see this on the Specsavers website……
….and your first thought is of Shawn Michaels and Triple H hand delivering you some contacts. Or when you dream you’re the guest host of Raw. Or when you refer to real-life people who happen to be really good at being bad as ‘heels’.
Have you ever tried giving something up? For lent maybe? Or a diet? Just like the person who fidgets and plays with their fingers when they’re trying to stop smoking, I can’t sleep properly when there’s a Pay Per View on that I’m not staying up to watch. It’s pretty pathetic. But if you try to make me to go to rehab, I’ll say no, no, no.