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Little people, big entertainment Inside the midget wrestling experience at a Chicago bar:"No silence, all violence" By Megan Diaz Correspondent
Ten dollars later, fans had to wait in another line to get into the arena of the North Side bar. After making it through the line, onlookers paused to look at the white mats and the red ropes of the ring. After stepping down onto the main floor, the view of the ring was lost, and anyone less than 6-feet tall who wasn’t standing ringside couldn’t possibly see a damn thing. Frustrated spectators discovered ways to see the event by standing on tables, and girls were raised up on shoulders so they wouldn’t miss any of the action. For the calmer fans, Sluggers provided coverage of the midget wrestlers on monitors throughout the bar. Start time was set for 9:30 p.m. Fifteen minutes later, the ring was still empty. At 10, still no wrestlers. The restless crowd began to chant, “Midgets! Midgets! Midgets!” The crowd finally got what it wanted at 10:15—midget wrestlers. The first midget to step into the ring was T.O., dressed in navy-blue warm-up pants and a black cutoff t-shirt that read, “PLAY TOY.” He was also sporting a bleached-blond “Eminem” hairstyle, and numerous tattoos on his arms. He worked the anxious crowd by passing out promotional stickers, t-shirts, and posing for fans with cameras in the audience. Then Psycho Puppet Master, the obvious crowd favorite, climbed into the ring, and then whispered to me, “I do this for the crowd and the girls.” He screamed into the microphone, “This is the Rock’em, Sock’em Tour. No silence, all violence.” After preaching about his “puppet power” over women and explaining the difference between midgets and dwarfs, the crowd was ready for some action. T.O. jumped into one corner, raising his arms to the crowd as if to already claim victory. His rival was Beautiful Bobby D, who earlier was preparing for the match by downing a few beers while in the company of two lovely ladies. Bobby D., whose dad was also a midget wrestler, entered the ring sporting a very medieval look, with his glittering black-and-white cape, and his long, stringy, dish-water blond hair. He dramatically removed his cape and revealed his wrestling outfit: black leggings. He moved to his corner of the ring, and the two wrestlers waited for the start command, given by puppet master. Suddenly, a beer bottle from the audience flew into the ring became the unofficial start of midget wrestling. Now it was on. T.O. and Bobby fought back and forth. Bobby D. got the upper hand, but the fight really looked as if it was going nowhere. Then, T.O. reached for the steel garbage can that was sitting outside the ring. He grabbed the lid, and crushed Bobby’s head against it. He followed this up by dumping the entire garbage can onto the mat. Empty water bottles, a stainless steel serving tray, a box of baking powder, a croquet racket, barbed wire, a long steel pipe, rubbing alcohol and a harmonica spilled out. T.O. took the croquet racket, wrapped barbed wire around it and slapped Bobby in the ass. T.O. held Bobby down for two counts. Bobby struggled to get up. T.O took a folding chair, stood it up in the corner of the ring, and flung Bobby against it. Bobby finally had every last piece of crap beat out of him, and T.O. was pronounced the winner. Then, out of nowhere, T.O. tried to start something with Puppet. The two wrestled each other to the ground, but Puppet won the brawl with a swift punch to T.O.’s face. The crowd was left with an empty ring for another 20 minutes. Suddenly, some random guy from the audience took off his shirt and jumped into the ring. The crowd went wild while the guy jumped from one side of the ring to the next. Security forced him out, as more beer bottles went flying. Puppet stepped into the ring at 10:50 to announce the start of round two. But, for some reason, round two involved two full-grown men, no midgets. What’s up with this?
Spider won, blah, blah, blah, but where were the midget wrestlers? Round three, 11:35, Puppet and T.O. meet each other in the ring. Both were armed with bright red boxing gloves, and the fight began. The crowd went wild as the two chased each other around the ring. T.O. went down, and Puppet took off his gloves. T.O. threw his gloves and went for the barbed wire and strangled Puppet with it. Puppet’s face met the mat, and T.O. jumped outside of the ring. He grabbed an empty beer bottle from a girl in the audience. Glass flew as he broke the bottle against the side of the ring. He walked over to Puppet, grabbed his hair and made him kneel on the mat. T.O. grazed the broken bottle against Puppet’s forehead and red blood ran down his face. The crowd stood stunned for a moment, but in no time was revived to their rowdy selves, egging on T.O. to beat the hell out of Puppet. T.O. grabbed Puppet and swung him out of the ring. Puppet landed on a nearby table as the crowd backed away. T.O. jumped out of the ring to finish what he had started, punching Puppet in the face and stomach. The two were soon swallowed by the crowd. Suddenly, T.O. and Puppet appeared on the bar, throwing shot glasses, napkins, and cans at each other. After a 10-minute absence from the ring, the two re-entered the ring. Puppet had obviously had the crap beat out of him. T.O. was dynamite, still hungry for more crowd support. Then, T.O. catapulted Puppet into a garbage can full of beer bottles, ending a bizarre evening of sport. Despite much of the action being scripted, the level of extreme violence must have been painful for the little men. “I can’t believe this is for real. He threw that guy head first in a pile of bottles,” exclaimed Kirra Steel, a wrestling fan in the crowd. After that, it was all over and T.O. was hailed the midget wrestling champion, at least for the evening. Midget wrestling. It goes to show that size doesn’t matter, and athletes come in all shapes and sizes. Back to top | Home The Columbia Chronicle is a student produced publication of Columbia College Chicago and does not necessarily represent, in whole or in part, the views of Columbia College administrators, faculty or students. |
February 26, 2001
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