A capacity crowd is on hand in Las Vegas for Wrestlemanya V. Once and for all, the question of who would win a real fight between boxers and wrestlers is being settled in the ring. However, the thousands in attendance and the millions at home are being sorely disappointed.
In one corner, Mike Tyson and Stone Cold Steve Austin are in a lazy mutual headlock, broken only by the occasional desultory ear-chew. In another corner, Evander Holyfield and Hulk Hogan are in their own half-hearted clinch, trading secrets on how to conceal hair loss. George Foreman and Butterbean are rope-a-doping The Rock and Bill Goldberg, absorbing fake punches effortlessly. In the center of the ring, Chyna's in a hair-pulling fight with Oscar de la Hoya, the only boxer there with hair. Don King and Captain Lou Albano watch the action outside the ring with mild interest between yawns.
The bell sounds. Michael Buffer steps into the ring amid a hail of boos, beer cups, and the occasional chair. "Ladies and gentlemen, time has expired in the match, and the referees have scored it a draw. Thank you for coming tonight, and--what the--"
A loop of rope tightens around him, and hoists him into the rafters. Descending on the other end of the rope is Mr. T! The fans erupt into cheers, many of them raising "I Pity The Fool" signs. The fighters retreat to their corners, mystified.
"WE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS FAKE CRAP! Ground Zero be takin' over this match, and it ain't gonna be no slap-fight! Draws are for wimps. This time, the fighting's for real!"
"Hey, this isn't in the script," peeps one of the soon to be combatants.
"SHUT UP, FOOL! You suckers are such chumps, this fight's gonna be a battle to the death. Winners get to split $1 billion embez--er, donated from the Sedate Vlad Fund. Losers get tossed into the chihuahua pit. Anyone trying to sneak out will be dealt with by the crowd..." The sounds of cocked guns and whirling chainsaws comes from all corners of the crowd. "And just to make sure there ain't no funny bid'ness, I'm gonna be the referee."
Mr. T lets go of his rope. There's a scream of "Aaaaaaaaaalet'sgetreadytotuuuuuuumbllllllle!" before the plummeting Buffer takes out half a dozen seats.
So, Paul, which royal rumblers will rule the ring?
PAUL: From my viewpoint here at ringside, the wrestlers should take this one faster than you can say "Can of Whoop-Ass."
You need look no further than technique. Can boxers execute stunningly devastating moves like the gut-wrench suplex, the powerbomb and the piledriver, not to mention a number of high-risk acrobatic precision manuevers off the top rope? Moreover, are they highly conversant with less sportsmanlike but highly effective chicanery such as smashing heads into turnbuckles, fighting outside the ring and using folding chairs for pain and profit? Do they know how to fight as an effective tag team? HELL, NO! All they know how to do is throw punches and they don't even have the guts to do it without protective gloves. In wrestling, the only reason to throw punches is to set your opponent up for a move that *really* hurts. With that type of ignorance of real mano-a-mano combat, these five stumblebums are going to be the latest victims of the Stone Cold Stunner(tm) and no one - and I mean no one - gets up from that.
But even if we ignore the obvious superiority, wrestlers are also clearly the better athletes. Look at the Tale of the Tape(tm):
AVERAGE VITAL STATISTICS
Boxers: 6'1", 230. That weight number varies widely depending on how many cheeseburgers Foreman eats for dinner.
Wrestlers: 6'4", 255. Chyna outweighs Oscar del la Hoya by 50 lbs. and SHE'S A WOMAN!
Wrestlers: Wrestlers match-up an average of two to three times A WEEK for non-stop, high impact action.
Boxers: Boxers of this caliber fight twice a year TOPS. Apparently, without six months off, they aren't capable of handling a 36 minute fight. Of course, what can you say for a bunch of wimps that need a one minute break every three minutes. Longshoremen don't get it that good.
Boxers: Fights are postponed if the boxer breaks a finger, has gas or gets a note from his therapist that he needs to "deal with issues."
Wrestlers: Iron Mike Sharpe wrestled for 10 years with a cast on his arm. Buff Bagwell came back from BREAKING HIS NECK. Is this a contest?
To summarize: Take those cute red gloves that match their cute red tights, turn them sideways and SHOVE IT UP YOUR ROODDY-POOH ASS! WHATCHA GONNA DO WHEN THE HULKSTER AND HIS 24 INCH PYTHONS RUN WILD ON YOU!
SHANE: I'm going to regret that we didn't spend the Sedate Vlad Fund on something for you.
No turnbuckle smash, atomic piledriver, or super suplex(isn't that a movie theater?) can protect you from this little news flash, Paul: wrestling is fake. We both live in New Jersey, but apparently only I was paying attention when the WWF declared itself officially fraudulent so it could dodge state regulations of real sports. And what does it say of wrestlers in general that they're scared of Governor Christine Todd Whitman? Sheesh!
Now, there's a reason why boxers only throw punches at each other with padded gloves: because without those rules, boxing's body count would be higher than a Union Carbide picnic in India. Imagine Mike Tyson in a fight where biting is not only legal, but encouraged. Imagine the tender embrace of Butterbean crushing the oxygen out of your lungs. Imagine George Foreman sitting on your head. And grinning.
Against this, we have members of a <chortle> sport who are not very good at this self-interest thing. These are the people who drove Sable screaming out of their organization. Men who let women like that get away are more than a few watts short of a light bulb. Additionally, every third wrestling match features some poor schlub getting whacked from behind by someone he thought was an ally. Imagine that attitude carrying into this match, where there's a billion-dollar purse split among the survivors. The pugilists can stand aside as the wrestlers wear themselves down to blobs of blood-streaked protoplasm, then finish this match with judicious use of a Wet-Vac.
The boxers win easily, and with their earnings are able to buy and sell Don King. Revenge is sweet indeed.
PAUL: WHAT DO YOU MEAN WRESTLING ISN'T REAL???!!! In Tokyo in 1976, it was real enough to turn the icon of boxing Muhammad Ali into a cowering mess hiding in the ropes to avoid further punishment. This is a sport that your very own Butterbean and Mike Tyson have competed in. Nay, I say if any sport is dubious, it's boxing. They have let such chumps as Andrew "Confuse your crotch for your head" Golota, Gerry "Big White Dummy" Cooney and over-the-hill ex-Jet and professional girlfriend beater MARK GASTINEAU compete. It has countless world champions for each of 17 weight classes to guarantee lots of high profit title bouts and champions lose their belts more often to bureaucratic hissy fits than other fighters. And how about the Olympics where the only qualification to be a judge is a $10 bribe and three functioning brain cells. If wrestling is fake, then boxing is imaginary.
And if that isn't enough, what can you say for a sport in which people on Social Security can make comebacks and actually win? Why would you want to drag those fossils Larry Holmes and Roberto "No Mas" Duran out of their wheelchairs anyway? Don't they know that most medical insurance actually covers Viagra prescriptions? You know, the reason that all of Foreman's sons are named George II thru George the VI isn't because he's weird but because he's 853-years-old and his "children" are actually six generations. Quick, someone throw some dirt on the man before he feels the need to eat living human flesh.
The only thing that will be left of the boxers is Don King's hair. Who's next?
SHANE: Say, thanks for reminding me about Low-Blow Golota, who only reinforces my point. This is a man whose punches could induce brain damage via the scrotum, and still there are lots better fighters out there. If wrestlers were really so tough, they would fake some crotch-punches themselves, but apparently they're too tender in the testes to endure anything worse than wimpy little 'gotchas' from behind. Or maybe, with all the steroids they take, there's nothing left there to hit.
You still seem to be standing, Paul, if battered and reeling. Time for the big takedown. First, the full-body slam. As I learned only too well last year, the French cannot win anything. Yet who was the biggest name in wrestling for years, dominating the 'sport'? Andre the Giant! Any activity that can be dominated by a Frenchman is simply too feeble to be worth dominating.
Now for the leglock around your windpipe. The WWF has shown its true loser's colors lately by putting a weekly show on the alleged UPN network. This association would be enough to tar them as hapless losers any day of the week, but it gets even worse. UPN, desperate for ratings, is putting wrestlers on its other TV shows -- including an appearance by the Big Boss Man on Star Trek--Voyager. Yes, your boys (and girl) are doomed, for as everyone who knows anything about Ground Zero can tell you, Star Trek must lose!
I'll apply the pin now. Surely you will welcome it as a mercy.
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In a classic George Carlin routine, the terminology of each sport is compared in order to prove that football is tougher than baseball. The same thing can be done in order to prove that boxing is tougher than wrestling, and hence, boxers are tougher than wrestlers. Wrestling terminology is downright dainty compared to the boxing lexicon. Observe:
In boxing, there are knock-outs "Tyson clean knocked out that fool!" In wrestling, there are pinfalls "It's so quiet, I could hear a pin fall" In boxing, you throw in the towel "Holyfield took so many punches he had to throw in the towel." In wrestling, you submit "I've been a naughty boy, may I submit to you, Mistress"? In boxing, there is the jab "Oh, what a vicious jab!" In wrestling, there's the bear hug "C'mere and give daddy a big bear hug" In boxing, there's the uppercut "Tyson has been hit by an uppercut!" In wrestling, there's the sleeper "That film about the gay cowboys is the sleeper hit of the festival." In boxing, you take punches "What a mighty punch!" In wrestling, you take "bumps" "Ooh, that's a nasty bump" Boxing has fans Wrestling has "marks" "Oh, I just know that'll leave a mark!" In boxing, you wear trunks In wrestling, you wear tights. Enough said, really.
Clearly, wrestling terminology is just too fruity. I don't even want to know if "jobbers" is short for something else.
- "Don't put me in a" 1/2 Nelson
As if the Star Trek Factor wasn't enough to guarantee a win for the pugilistic practitioners of the Sweet Science, they also have the 3 M Factors working for them.
The Maker Factor
Hotbranch gets a special dispensation for those Hotbranch! 3:16 shirts because of all the joy he's brought into hospitalized children's lives as BoBo, The Especially Effeminate Clown. However, with Pastor Foreman on the boxing side (and don't forget Holyfield and De La Hoya), maybe The Almighty is preparing to open up a planetoid-sized can of Smote(tm) as just desserts for that Austin 3:16 crap. Also, consider that God helped Samson destroy a whole Philistine army with the jawbone of a jackass. With Don King available to them, imagine what these guys could do with the whole body of a jackass!
The Movie Factor
Though not as common as The Cop Two Days From Retirement or the Oblivious Horny Teenagers Being Stalked By A Serial Killer, there is a film archetype that provides a clue to this match: The Boxer Who is All Messed Up Because Somebody Died in the Ring. For examples, see Rocky IV and The Quiet Man. You'll note that there is no wrestling equivalent, since nobody actually gets hurt in Pro Wrestling. Want some cash? Bulk up a little and fight Sting. Have a hideously painful terminal wasting disease but you have moral objections to suicide? Fight Mike Tyson, but be sure to make your funeral arrangements first.
The Mafia Factor
Where do most boxing title bouts take place? In casinos. Who controls the casino industry? The Mob. Now, I would never even think for a moment that our stalwart mascot could be bought off with wiseguy cash, but the wrestlers don't know T like we Grudgephiles. They will be expecting a hail of bullets from the opening bell, and the boxers will make the most of this distraction.
Jesse Ventura had better get the speechwriters moving, because they're going to need to bang out a heck of a eulogy. Not only will it be the first funeral televised on TBS, it's also the first one where the coffins are carried out to the tune of a Fresh Prince & Jazzy Jeff song: "I Really Thought I Could Beat Mike Tyson."
- Mr. Silverback- Barricaded inside my house in case any Pro Wrestler reads this.
Barely flinching, Mister T directs the well-armed spectators to deny entry to the militiamen. The combatants finally finish digesting this novel situation, and a particular look of fear emerges in the expressions of the boxers, a look shared only by those who face doom and know that time is not on their side. How long can the audience hold off the "wrestling" governor's enforcers?
Yet, instead of pressing the attack, the "wrestlers" begin the preliminaries. Professional "wrestling" conflict is conducted Iraqi- style: serious action is ideally preceded by "mother-of-all-battles"- type hyperbole. "I'm telling you, you pretty-boy boxers, who hang out with all those pointy-headed ineffectuals, or intellectuals, or whatever they call themselves now," Hulk Hogan roars. "You think you're so smart! Well, I've got a Master's degree in Butt-whooping, and I'll impress my credentials on your hinds like a hot iron!"
"You'd better believe it!" bellows Stone Cold with accompanying gestures. "We'll revoke you like athletic eligibilities! We'll drop you like non-required French Literature classes!"
And all the other "wrestlers" would say similar things.
To "wrestling" audiences, these threats are humorous, because we know that most real thugs (say, Crips) would respond to such aggressive melodrama by simply walking up to the speaker and beating the snot out of him.
However, these targets are boxers. Remember how Muhammad Ali would psych out his foes by acting half-sanely violent towards them at the weigh-ins, having to be physically forced away? That ploy won Ali more than one match. It follows that properly-delivered lines like, "I'll stop you like a bad check!" or "I'll whack you so hard, your kids will be born dizzy!" would sap the boxers' courage, enabling an easy win for the "wrestlers."
By the time a Minnesota Special Forces team infiltrates into the arena's sound booth, enabling member Garrison Keilor to pipe in his tales from Lake Wobegon and mellow out all resistance, the chihuahuas would already be finishing seconds.
- Matt Bricker
-Foreman and Hogan: Both part of the geriatric generation, each has
shown they can still hang with the younger crowd and take them to
school. However, I have to give this one to Hogan, who weekly takes
on guys half his age and wins.
WRESTLERS 1 BOXERS 0
-Steve Austin and Mike Tyson: Both men have been touted as mean SOB's,
and each one was feared in his field. However that fear is now for
different reason; Austin's for his ferocious fighting, Tyson for his
voracious appetite. Each man has won the championship. But Tyson when
he first came out of jail got a job working for WWF and after being
threatened by Austin, left the WWF soon after his stint as a special
guest referee. That will work as an advantage for Austin because he
knows Tyson is scared of him and doesn't want to get into a wrestlers
ring with Austin. Since this is each fighting according to his
profession, Austin is going to see the ring as a wrestling ring. This
match-up goes to Austin.
WRESTLERS 2 BOXERS 0
-Chyna and Oscar: This one I will have to go with Oscar for three
reasons. He wears a cup to the ring as all good boxers do so Chyna's
low-blow, her most devistating attack, is rendered useless. He can
take a lot of pain, and let's face it, how much can Chyna dish out
that Oscar hasn't taken before? And finally, I just want someone to
knock that b--ch into next week.
WRESTLERS 2 BOXERS 1
-The Rock and Butterbean: The Rock will win this one because of one
deciding factor: The RAGE. His ego is so tremendously big that once
he realizes that he has to fight someone named Butterbean who isn't
even a big draw, he's going to lay the smack down so fast that
Butterbean will be nothing but a memory. Then he'll turn around and
get a shot at De LaHoya and kick his roody pooh candy a** all over
the ring, thereby negating the win Oscar had over Chyna. He is the
WRESTLERS 4 BOXERS 0
-Holyfeild and Goldberg: This one goes to Goldberg, even though many
will dispute this right off the bat. The reason being that Bill
Goldberg used to be a professional football player. If he uses the
same amount of force for a spear as he would for a tackle, he'll
knock Holyfield out then jackhammer him into a ringpost. Bye, bye
WRESTLERS 5 BOXERS 0
-And finally, there's the managers: Lou Albino will whoop a** over
Don King in about three seconds flat. While King's yelling about how
good Tyson is and how he shouldn't be discriminated against, Lou will
walk up to him, catch him with a right hand and knock him so hard it
will straighten out his hair.
WRESTLERS 6 BOXERS 0
There you have it, with that much carnage, each wrestler decides that their share of the billion, 200 million is enough. Especially since Chyna was taken out by De LaHoya. All but two that is. Bill Goldberg and Steve Austin decide to once and for all see who is the better wrestler and put the debate to rest between WCW and WWF fans in true GRUDGEMATCH fashion.
But that is another story...
However, this ain't France.
- LT Dan
- Vermin Boy, who thinks this debate should have been settled by Muhammad Ali vs. Freddie Blassie.
*quickly* Not that there's anything wrong with that.
As the others duke it out in the ring, Captain Lou slips under the ring and emerges moments later in his old Super Mario costume. As he bounces around the ring, jumping from one head to the next, his contribution to the original WWF Rock 'n' Wrestling album begins blaring over the speakers! (Captain Lou! Captain Lou! Captain Lou! Captain Lou!)The sound causes most of the audience to begin jerking and spasming in epileptic fits as "Super Mario" crushes the final survivor, Don King, underfoot.
Quickly scotch taping half a dozen rubber bands to his face, Super Mario Lou stands triumphantly over the shattered remains of his fellow combatants.
As Mr. T steps forward to hand Lou the sack of cash, The Captain turns to the fromer A-Team member and says, "Hey, you ever considered joining a tag team?"
And so, for the next several decades tag-team wrestling with the newly formes Super Lou's Wrestling Federation is dominated by the mastrful duo of Super Mario Lou and Mr. T! Lou's da man, and don't you forget it!
- Don "King" Milliken
...on the other hand, neither can the wrestlers. Boxers beat Wrestlers in five seconds. And then bite their ears off.
Go on, say what you want, I've heard it all before. But before you go too far, realize one thing: this one is going to the boxers. Here's why:
As a 16-year-old wrestling fan, I have been put into many of these
moves. Now realize this, especially you Paul:
Aside from submissions,
THE MOVES ARE DESIGNED TO NOT BE PAINFUL.
Now that that's been made clear, I will go on. I said aside from submissions above. But, if you'll notice, not one of the wrestlers in the fight uses a submission as their finishing move. NOT ONE. With all the wrestlers throwing the boxers around, they'll soon tire themselves out, and the boxers will make quick work of them. Even Foreman, while he's having his in-ring snack and Meineke endorsement. Boxers, no contest.
- Kopper Golyathe, still standing after half-a-dozen neckbreakers
- El Weirdo
First, let's talk about real life. Twenty years after it happened, even today, some people are still saying, "Hey, ever see the Ali-Foreman fight?" One second after the 80's ended, nobody has ever said anything like, "Hey, ever see the Mr. Perfect-Narcissist fight?" Nobody has ever cared once the 1990s kicked in.
Second, let's talk about movies. What did boxing have? Raging Bull and Rocky. Wrestling's Hulk Hogan comes up with Mr. Nanny and (shudder) Santa with Muscles. Better wrestling/wrestler movies will come along, but they're still a long way off to find what boxing has already achieved.
Third, let's talk about video games. Boxing has been the subject of a lot of great games starting in the mid-80's: Punch-Out!!, King of the Rings, Street Fighter (through the character Balrog) and Super Punch-Out!! From 1984-1997, all wrestling games sucked.
Real life or fantasy, the wrestlers lose by a decade.
- Charge Man
Holyfield might get the early advantage on Hogan, but, when Hulk hears the fans chanting, he'll start shaking like an epileptic and become impervious to pain. Thus, The Real Deal(tm) will eventually be dispatched via the Legdrop.
The fans will then see Goldberg getting hammered by Butterbean. They'll start the Goldberg chant and, a spear and a Jackhammer later, that will be it for Butterbean.
And so on, Austin lays out Tyson, Chyna will give De La Hoya the Low Blow of Death(tm), and all of a sudden it's five wrestlers versus the geriatric George Foreman.
The crowd starts chanting for The Rock. "Rocky! Rocky!", they cry. This brings about the downfall of the wrestlers. Because out of the back comes the one boxer who the fans will chant for, none other than ROCKY Balboa a.k.a. Sylvestor Stallone.
Mr. T, while ever vigilant, is refereeing a match that involves wrestlers which means he can be distracted very easily ("Look, a guy wearing a hat!"). Don King does his managerial duty by diverting T's attention. This allows Stallone to punch out Captain Lou (I mean c'mon, it's Captain Lou) and then get the rest of the wrestlers to leave the ring when he promises them roles in his next movie Rambo:Offsetting the failure of Judge Dredd. Of course all the wrestlers will follow, because what wrestler can pass up a part in a bad action movie?
Only then will Mr T. turn around and count out the wrestlers. Then, to the shock and amazement of all present, he'll declare Evander Holyfield's corpse the winner claiming that, from his view, Holyfield won the fight.
- King of No Media
A SUCKY football player (Bill Goldberg) tries wrestling and Whupps arse...
Just remember: Boxing is real, Britney Spears is fake.
- Darth Brooks would like to take a lightsaber to Britney Spears.(hey!...)
Most people know that boxing is *really* controlled, not by Don King, but a group who prefer to be known as "legitimate businessmen". On the other hand, wrestling is run by Vince McMahon. With a purse of one billion dollars, there is no way the Legitimate Businessmen (TM) are going to let that slip away. Against their track record of fixing sports events (to help keep their bookies and numbers rackets in business), Vince McMahon and the WWF don't stand a chance.
What will happen is that the WWF and the wrestlers will receive an offer they cannot refuse (if they value their existence) and throw the match. End of game.
- The Demented Astronomer
- I don't actually like tractor pulls, either.
- Kung Fu Cellist
As most of us know, Captain Lou Albano played our dear friend Mario on the short-lived TV Super Mario show. With this in mind, let's check out Captain Lou's skills as Mario:
Can jump really high
One jump on the head kills
Power mushroom makes him very large
Fire Flower gives him power to shoot fireballs
Can do a really cool dance at the end of the show
Now, all Captain Lou has to do is get the Power mushroom, and jump on all the boxers and Don King. And if he fails the first time, he's got five more chances, as well as the elusive, but helpful "1-Up" mushroom hiding in the corner. He'll be unstoppable!
And then he'll do the Mario! "Swing your arms, from side to side, come on its time to go, do the Mario! Take one step, and then again, come on its time to go do the Mario!"
- Tom, the Mario Bros. nephew, still confused by how to do the dance
- Mark Milan
Ah, but apparently neither one of you bothered to watch that MTV special on Wrestling awhile back. In this show they featured a has- been called Tony Atlas, who is now travelling the independent circuit. To boost attendance, Mr. Atlas (Who is both a wrestler and semi-promoter) will sometimes hold "Stock Matches". In these stock matches...
THE HITTING IS REAL!!
That's right, these people really kick the crap out of each other in these matches. Since our good referee is Mr. T, we can be assured that this will be one of those Stock Matches. The boxers with those sissy gloves of theirs won't even be able to faze our primed and ready wrestling team. And besides, even if it's NOT a stock match, any wrestler will tell you that being backbroken, body- slammed, Rock-Bottom(tm)ed, etc. HURTS, regardless of whether or not the action is fake. With all these moves at their disposal, Albano and company mop the floor with the boxers in under a minute flat.
- Dark Fact
This particular year he was talking about the eighties. Plenty of video clips, with a whole lot of brand new neato eighties video lighting techniques. (Whoo, the whole stage is overlit! Looks great on that giant primped hair.)
You rooted for your personal favorites when they popped up. Being in New Jersey, Bruce Springsteen got a big rooting section when his first slide hit the canvas. Ditto for Billy Joel, U2 and, for some reason, Men Without Hats.
If you weren't enthuiastic for someone, you didn't clap. You sat on your hands like Ed Harris or Nick Nolte when Elia Kazan got his Lifetime Oscar. Every musician shown had at least one guy who kept his hands stationary, muttering "Yeah, HE's good." That was me for the New Kids.
But one person got a unanimous positive reaction. There wasn't a still hand in the joint. Everyone gave it up for one person. And he wasn't even a musician, just someone that happened to be in one of the video clips.
That video clip was Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, by Cyndi Lauper.
And that man was Captain Lou Albano.
There is not a man, woman or child alive today who doesn't love Captain Lou with all their heart. What's not to love? Hawaiian shirt, rubber bands, bags under the eyes the size of bagels. He proved to America that you didn't need to be attractive, or talented, or even under 300 lb to be an international superstar. Only your heart matters, and Lou's was bursting with love and energy and cholesterol. And let's not forget his dignified portrayal of Mario in the Super Mario Brothers series.
Forget the Rock, Lou is the people's champion. Based on this, the crowd will destroy the first through sixth boxers to touch a hair on Lou's quivering jowl.
- Kilgore Trout
I have to vote for the wrestlers because they're the hardest working athletes on the planet. They don't take a break until the show is over and even then they don't party after bedtime. And I'm a big guy, 6'3" and 300 pounds. The midget wrestlers are bigger than me.
On the other hand, Tyson is a spoiled badboy that can't stay out of the slammer or keep his hand out of the cookie jar. George Foreman spent most of the morning runnng around the MGM Grand and the afternoon sitting in the food court chowing down on Big Macs. Butterbean and Evander are the only two good assets on the boxers' side. But the wrestlers have had years to learn how to work together, while the boxers know zip about team tactics.
And everybody here hates Don King.
And in the wake of the riot that will occur afterwards, the resulting fatalities will be blamed on "falling stanchions".
- Martin Evans
When asked why his dad named all of his sons 'George', George said, "Well... my dad does get hit in the head a lot."
Despite this, boxers will win because wrestling is fake and homo- erotic.
- Griffin Bryant
Nothing else matters in this match, not the rottweiler's weight in chiuhuahahahahaas (or whatever those little yap things are), not the chainsaw wielding soccer hooligans, not all the gold chains around Mr. T's neck. It all comes down to Butterbean Aka "The Toughest Man Alive". He kicks all the wrestlers to the curb, and once he does that in record time, realizes that bit of gratuitous just wasn't enough to sate his taste for HUMAN FLESH, and takes the fight to the remaining boxers. 5 minutes later, Butterbean and Mr. T are drinking a toast to Bean's newfound fortune.
- Al B. Tross
Good at standing, some maneuvering, and punching, sizes range from small and wiry to large and powerful, referee always looking, have padded gloves.
Good at jumping from ropes, bodyslamming, and neck-breaking, sizes range from large and powerful to enormous and godlike, referee always off somewhere having a smoke or a burger whenever a near-fatal move is being delivered, only padding is on the posts of the ring, and that's taken off 3 minutes into the show.
And as if these facts weren't enough, wrestling also has sidekicks. Sidekicks are important, because they're always in there, smacking the opponent's head with anything from a folding chair to a lead pipe, or, with a female sidekick, distracting either the other competitor or even the ref with their...um... their, uh, attributes (yeah, that'll do)!
And still, there's more. Wrestling has given us the current governor of Minnesota, Jesse Ventura, a frickin' Navy SEAL! A SEAL!!!!! These are guys who get shot at (with real bullets, mind you!) and don't care. Jesse himself wanted to rappel off of the State Capitol in Minnesota for his first day! For those of you who aren't familiar with rappeling, it involves going somewhere high, such as a cliff, tying a rope to it, tying the rope to you (essentially) and jumping off it, with nothing but your hands to slow you down. That, my friends, takes cojones out the wazoo. If all else fails in the match, The Body" could take them out! I salute him and Stone Cold, and that's the bottom line, 'cause-
- -Tracer Malone said so!!
1) Spock is getting rather sick of getting his face rubbed in the Star Trek entrails. After all, what could any man do to Chewbacca? What could any thing (except John McClane) destroy the Death Star without photon torpedoes?
2) The Boss Man reference was EXTREMELY weak. Must Star Trek be quoted in every single match? The Star Trek death-by-association argument must only be used if strong ties are present, else it will follow the same path as the Rage(tm). Oh, mighty Rage(tm), look how far he has fallen! Quoted endless times, all power lost! For the sake of good and decency, Star Trek must NOT be used in vain!
- Mourner of the Rage(t...oh, screw it, it's not funny anymore)
- "Mad Dog" Mike
So my vote has to go with the boxers on this one. I tried to imagine Cory as a Professional wrestler, but I believe that one look from any other wrestler would send him crying to his corner.
The Rock: The who?
Steve Austin: Wentz 3:16 says no.
Hulk Hogan: Cha-cha-cha-chia face.
Chyna: The picture chosen makes her look like Maria Shriver on steroids--making her even more deadly!
Capt. Lou Albano: Kudos to the only Lou in the world whose nickname doesn't include "Sweet." Unfortunately, he won't enjoy the sweet taste of victory.
Oscar De La Hoya: What the hell? The WWWF is no place for talent! Who let him in?
Butterbean: As a vegetarian, I know that if anything can empty a room/ring it's a butterbean
Mike Tyson: Befuddled when he bites Albano's ear and spends the rest of the event chewing on a rubber band.
Evander Holyfield: Holyfield? Is that a euphemism for cemetery? That's where Evander will be at the end of this one.
George Foreman: Discovering death is a low-fat way to lose weight, he'll get an infomercial to sell the idea.
Don King: "Only in America (TM)" can one man get so pummeled so quickly by so many
- Mark Wentz
1) Half-naked sweaty men wearing makeup and strutting, then trying to get on top of each other. Does Uncle Morton have to spell it out for you?
2) All wrestlers are huge, especially compared to boxers, as Paul so eloquently pointed out. But this is not a good thing. If there is one thing years of vapid televised entertainment has taught me, it's that big guys lose. Bluto vs. Popeye. That Wizard Guy vs. the Smurfs. Tom vs. Jerry. Every time, lose, lose, lose.
3) In the above, all the examples were cartoons, ne c'est pas? There's a very good reason for that: The Wrestling World is about as divorced from reality as anything Warner Bros. ever put out. They have no clue how to fight for real. The boxers might not, either, but the fans are close enough to throw things at them, meaning they have some experience with pain, as opposed to wrestlers, who are as seperated from their fans as from anything else.
4) Speaking of experiences with pain... Wrestlers don't get that big from exercise, miladdo. They take steroids by the boxful. Which means that EVERY wrestler in this fight has shrunken, hardened, walnut-testicles. And when the aforementioned groin-punch hits them, the walnuts are gonna shatter, and... <Cue male crotch-hit empathy, where all male readers feel the pain...>
The results: All the male wrestlers are left pummeled and bleeding where no man wants to bleed, Chyna joins the boxing side and becomes Mike Tyson's love slave (well, I couldn't kill her, could I?), and after the fight is over, Mr. T stalks off, muttering menacing things about Vince McMahon...
Cue end credits and WWWF theme music (any suggestions?)
- Morton Van Buggery, Critic with a Shotgun
First of all, wrestlers have guys like Dan Severn and Ken Shamrock on their side. I find it amusing to think of Mike Tyson trying to throw punches with broken arms.
Secondly, how many boxers have been thrown off of 15-foot tall steel cages? How many boxers have broken their collar-bones and dislocated their shoulders, and then continued the match only to be thrown onto a pile of thumbtacks? After that kind of treatment, would a boxer keep coming back for more? Of course not, a boxer would complain about his sprained pinky finger and call it off.
Thirdly, speaking of Mike Tyson, they had to stop the fight when he bit off Evander Holyfield's ear. The same thing happened to Mick Foley in a match against Vader in Japan. Mick finished the match with his ear hanging off by a thread of gristle. (Good Imagery, huh?)
Fourthly, Andrew Golatta (sorry if I misspelled it, don't hit me in the nuts) can hit guys in the pills. Big deal. Name one 105-pound female valet in wrestling who hasn't hit someone in the nuts at one time or another. I dare you. Those who haven't, have done worse, like hit guys in the head with cookie sheets and set them on fire. If a girl could thus beat down a boxer, then why not a 6'6 300 pound mountain of muscle in tights?
Fifthly, I've tried both wrestling and boxing. Wrestling's tougher. The fact that these guys can attempt those "fake" moves four nights a week and not get killed speaks enough for their testicular fortitude. The final count: When I backyard wrestled, I got a dislocated kneecap, a bloody nose, a sprained shoulder, two or three lumps on my head, and I got my hair set on fire. When I boxed I got a black eye. Jeepers. A black eye. You could get a black eye by running into a door. If a boxer couldn't cause any more damage then running into a door, then I don't know why we shell out 60 bucks for a 20 minute (if we're lucky) fight.
Finally, I own five wrestling shirts. Most of my friends own wrestling shirts. Where's my Mike Tyson T-shirt you may ask? Or my Leon Spinks Lunch Box? What about my Golatta 3:16 baseball jersey? Or my Butterbean Colostomy bag? They're all in the land of make-believe, just like the boxer's chances of coming out of this in one piece.
- The Black Goat
Now I must run away from all surrounding WWF and WCW fans. They can be as rapid as your average Star Wars(TM) or Marvel(TM) fans.
- Help!! I'm a Microsoft employee in a romm full of Mac users
- The Leg
You see, wrestlers just have more class.
When was the last time you saw Evander Holyfield walk into the ring yelling "WHAT DOES EVERY BODY WAAAANT!?!?!? HEAD HEAD HEAD HEAD HEAD HEAD HEAD!!!" David Tua enters to a shower of gold sparkles- shit, David Tua hasn't got the balls to even look at a dress and blonde wig, let alone wear one.
The common misconception is that wrestling is fake. Well, dagnabbit, the WWF is fake, sure. Yet most professional wrestlers also know how to make them moves hurt as well, Mark Mero, the Undertaker, and Hulk Hogan notwithstanding. But they're gimps, and don't count.
And, well, that would be the bottom line, but, I'm not an Austin mark.
- The Black Snotling, saying, "HANDS LIKE THIS! HANDS LIKE THIS! HANDS LIKE THIS! HANDS LIKE THIS!" over and over and over again...
You mean to tell me a bunch of broken-down fatboys are gonna beat wrestling's finest(and Hulk Hogan)? Sorry, folks. You might cower at the one-punch KO potential from Foreman and Butterbean(the number he did on Bart Gunn at Wrestlemania was impressive...) You may marvel at the technical excellence of Holyfield and De La Hoya. You may fear the pure evil of Tyson.
But this is a GRUDGE MATCH, folks.
Anything goes. How do you expect the boxers to throw a decent chairshot with those *#$@#$@#$ gloves on? Sorry, but weapons beats no weapons every day of the week.
And that's the bottom line, 'cause Stone Cold said so... no, hold on, If you smeeeeeeeell what the Rock is cookin'... no, wait, Who's next... uh-uh...
The best there is, the best there was, the... definitely not...
I SAID IT, I MEANT IT, DEAL WITH IT!
- Todd Evil
(Note- unless, of course, we were to include ALL boxers vs. ALL Wrestlers, in which case those REALLY freaky Female Boxers would beat the Living Day-Lights(tm) out of EVERYthing in the auditorium, and bound off, looking for some English Soccer Hooligans to challenge.... or date, depending on how drunk either party might be... oh, hey, where's the suggestion box!!)
The boxers aren't fighting the actors but the personalities. The boxers aren't fighting Duane Johnson; they are fighting the Rock. The boxers aren't fighting Steve Williams; they are fighting Stone Cold Steve Austin.
You see, unlike the actors, the wrestlers' personalities have special powers. It's like Spock and Leonard Nimoy. Unlike Nimoy, Spock has the ability to do the Vulcan Neck Pinch.
So as Butterbean smashes Goldberg in the head with his fists, Bill will just yell at him and give him a Jackhammer. As Tyson gives out punches that could break a brick wall, Hogan will just shake his head and stare at him. Every time a boxer swings a punch at the Rock he'll just duck it and give out a Rock Bottom.
The match ends with the Rock giving Don King a People's Elbow that gets a standing ovation that nearly breaks off the roof of the arena. Then Captain Lou will jump in the ring and do the Mario!
- Gavok (swing your arms from side to side...)
- Master Ariadne, Mara Jade, Endaira, Jezabel, and all the rest of us trapped in this sick excuse for a mind.
No, it just puts into doubt whether soccer is any big deal. See my commentary above. -- Shane
That's about on par with
trying to distinguish Al Gore from a piece
of wood yelling "Fake" at a Wrestling match writing
COW in hopes of making The Last Word (TM) insulting Mr.
T's mother something, I don't know what.
- Luc "Strikethro^H^H^H^H Three" French
- Seb Rabit
"Aaaaaaaaaalet'sgetreadytotuuuuuuumbllllllle!" and the contestents charge straight at each other. Being all just a little lacking the the brain cell(plural) department after years of whacking the hell out'a each other (not that they had that many to start with), they collide head on, and reel around in a mildly concussed manner before getting their vision back. When they can once again see without all the little birdies tweeting around their heads, they take a good look around and see 10 other fighting guys and one gal trying to work out who the hell they're supposed to fight.
Lets face it, team spirit is not going to be either team's greatest asset: all they do is fight each other anyway. The question is, do they fight together for the greater good (ie: decimating the other team), or do they simply whoop the hell out of those most familiar to them. As has already been said - these guys don't have enough processing power to change a lightbulb, let alone solve compex problems like this. Therefore they just lay into whoever's nearest, regardless of the team colors.
As the blood flows freely around the stadium the weaker opponents get mushed into the ground and the stronger ones bleed on them as we get down to the final two contestants. As Oscar de la Hoya dispatches Chyna, a hush falls over the stadium as he steps forward to win his trophy. Suddenly an animal-like shriek fills the air, and a black- clad figure stands before la Hoya.
"Ya koy asara kaling to daewoo kara?" [ "Fool! You think i would let *you* win a fighting contest?] A ski-mask is pulled away to reveal Bruce Lee, Chinese Boxer, Kung Fu extraordinaire, King of Kick Ass. De La Hoya tries to run, but is kicked sprawling on his behind by the martial arts man.
"So ya kamu do yo dosa cha!" ["You can run, but you can't hide!"] Utters Lee as he finishes off the poncy-named pratt.
The moral of this story girls and boys? Don't bother with boxers and wrestlers. They're dumb.
- "Kung Fu Kicks Ass! Ahem." -Guildenstern
Also, I'm a fan of MMA, reality fighting, boxing etc.......
But First I'm a pro-wrestling fan. I LOVE IT. I enjoy how stupid it is, and do NOT miss ANY monday nights. EVER. I record both shows. That's how much I love it.
That being said: If you think that more than 1 out of every 10 wrestler can beat a boxer or that most of them even have a CHANCE...walk yourself straight into downtown rush hour traffic and stand there. Do the world a favor.
On the other hand, we have Hulk Hogan starring in such fine cinema as Muppets from Space, Mr.Nanny, and 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain. There's also Bill Goldberg in Universal Soldier: The Return and Love Boat: The Next wave.
In summation, it's: The Matrix, Dracula, and The Fifth Element vs. Mr. Nanny and Love Boat.
- Jean-Baptiste Emmanuel Zorg
- Krusty fan #23452344
YOU(hopping up and down): WE ARE NOT IMMATURE AND CHILDISH!
ME(calmly): Yes you are.
YOU: ARE NOT!
ME: Are too.
YOU: ARE NOT!
ME: Are too.
Hmm, who will win this shouting match, the Maychorian maiden who enjoys slaying evil Katamobic dragons in her spare time, saving millions of innocents, or the semi-literate geeks (no pun intended) who enjoying slaying brain cells in the wee hours surfing the internet? Since I'm not as arbitrary a judge as the winds of chance, I'll flip a coin. Heads, I win, tails, you lose.
Heads. I win.
Since I have no clue who should win the Boxers vs. Wrestlers match, I flipped a coin for that, too. Unfortunately, it stood on its edge, then rolled off the table and under the bed and hasn't been seen since. (You should see my dust-bunny collection. It's mammoth.)
So I reverted to the time-proven choosing method known as Eeny Meeny Moe, and thus chose the winners... Boxers.
So there it is in a nutshell. Boxers win.
- Laura of Maychoria, creator and ruler of an alternate universe
Their only hope is Hulkamania(TM) and even that won't be enough.
- Captain Demento
- That damned "yo quiero" dog.
"Austin 3:16 says I-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM- BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!!!"
- Atreyu the Rabic Robocop Fan
- The Saint
Joe Foreman? Muhammed Ali Clay??? You're lucky Paul liked the proctologist line. -- Shane
What's wrong with proctology? -- Paul
- the wrestling avenger
For some obscure reason, in the fantasy world of pro wrestling, any damaging maneuver 'stuns' the opponent, leaving him in a dazed, helpless state, wherein he limply submits to whatever pseudo-'beats' get laid on his sorry ass, until he suddenly and without warning snaps out of the daze and performs a 'reversal' which then dazes his opponent.
Wrestlers CANNOT COPE with opponents who actually resist their attacks and attempt to avoid their blows. The following scenario would enact itself six times over in this fight:
Wrestler: slaps chest of opponent.
Boxer: Punches wrestler in face.
Wrestler: Is surprised by violation of script, attempts to grab opponent.
Boxer: Hops backwards and punches opponent three more times in face.
Wrestler: Stands there stunned.
Boxer: Throws six-punch combo that opponent does not even attempt to avoid.
Wrestler: Falls to mat, unconscious or dead.
- Wrestling is to combat as Posh Spice is to Bach
Little do they know that there are those out there who never possessed such inhibitions, those whom are a danger to society, decency, and civilization as we know it, those whom we keep barely in check by frequent administration of bottled inhibitions.
"WHO STOLE MY RITALIN MONEY!" comes the anguished shriek, as Vlad, barely recognizable beneath a literal haze of RAGE (TM), rips through the ropes and begins killing indiscriminately.  Blood, teeth, internal organs and jagged bits of bone fly. The carnage is terrible.
"Oh, the humanity!"  plagiarizes Don King, before being turned into kibble. 
Suddenly, in a crash of broken planks and sudden burst of sunlight, a WW II Japanese Zero fighter smashes through the roof! A funky beat blares from the stadium speakers.
Hulk Hogan (Getting his geriatric ass ripped to shreds): "Hey! Isn't that the A-Team theme song?" 
As the last combatants succumb to a frenzied Vlad, and the crowd panics in a frantic attempt to avoid the out of control airplane, a small package falls, unnoticed, from the belly of the plane. It describes a graceful arc, flying through the air, to land squarely in the middle of the ring, detonating in the first, and hopefully only, ever use of a Ritalin-Air bomb by the US military. 
Vlad, sedated, crashes to the Ground before the last remaining figure in the ring, Mr. T. 
Mr. T. (Looking disdainfully down at Vlad.): "You're lucky Murdock got here before you tried any of that crazy shit on me. I pity the fool!"
 Don't go there.
 I'm sure Vlad is actually a very nice person. No offence, but sometimes we must follow the call of our muse.
 Well, in this bunch, more or less humanity.
 At least the Chihuahuas will be happy.
 There is no A-Team Jihad.
 Or rogue commando squad thereof.
 I let you Grudgemeister types figure out who technically wins, considering our Hero's considerable qualifications.
The winner is Pay-Per-View for charging $600 to watch this match, and people will STILL BUY IT.
If you liked this match, check out these other past
Rocky v. Rambo
Martha Stewart v. Kathie Lee Gifford
Dennis Rodman v. RuPaul
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