Adventures in Argyle

Fighting for the Little Man

There are a lot of great ways for Clevelanders to spend a Sunday. Some go to church, some work around the house, some grocery shop—but for me, I'll go see Midget Wrestling any Sunday it's offered. (Once might be enough. Read on.)

The Midget Wrestling I speak of is actually called "The Micro Wrestling Federation," sponsored by Three Olives Cherry. It was going down in my hometown of Lakewood at the Avenue Tap House.

I have never seen Midget Wrestling—I mean, Micro Wrestling—before, but for some reason I knew compared to my other Sunday options, which amounted to little more than choosing between jerking off and writing dick jokes about jerking off, I had no option but to go.

So I called my friends and said, "Let's watch some Midget Wrestling tonight," which is not the strangest unprompted sentence with which I've started a phone call. To my surprise, they didn't hang up. And to my double surprise, they shared the same enthusiasm for this particular calling.

My friends picked me up and we headed to the venue, the Avenue Tap House, formally known as 85 bar names before that. Like most events I attend, I did it "The Chad Zumock Way." Translation: by sneaking in without paying. Even though I wanted to support the Micro Wrestling Federation, I felt my hard-earned unemployment money would better be used towards more important things, like my lawyer Kevin Spellacy and the Lakewood Municipal Court. Or maybe a Brook Jacoby rookie card. Who knows?

I did try to secure a media pass by playing the Scene card, but I was rejected like Spud Webb going to the hole on Dikembe Mutombo. Thanks a lot, Scene. [Ed. note: Or rejected like a timely joke about NBA players from over a decade ago.] My natural scumbag instinct kicked in and I resorted to the old "The Chad Zumock Way," walking straight through the kitchen and right to the stage area like I was Henry Hill taking Karen to the Copacabana. [Ed. note to self: Talk to Chad about timely jokes.]

The place was packed toe-to-toe, standing room only. The best way to describe this crowd is if the city of Elyria all got babysitters and came out to Lakewood for a night on the town. One guy in particular stood out because he was wearing a Dale Earnhardt Jr. t-shirt and proudly yelling, "Kick that queer's ass!" However, I looked into the ring and no one was in there. The show hadn't started yet. Maybe he was warming up his heckling taunts or maybe it was flashback from a hate crime he witnessed from years ago, I don't know.

If you are into Midget Wrestling, you would have been in for a treat on this particular night. All the stars were out, including Jmazing! Pixie, Lil Nasty Boy, Ricky Benjamin, Bronx Thug, Stephen Diesel and the amazing Short Dawg. They even had a DJ spinning. (His choice of music could have passed for the Hustler Club playlist, which was a hit with the Elyria crowd.)

As for the midget wrestling—excuse me, mini wrestling—it's just like normal-size professional wrestling only with much smaller performers. A lot of mini fake punches, mini fake falls and a storyline that had me completely confused: at one point during the match, three girls (audience members) had entered the ring and decided to have a lap dance-off with one of the little fellas. I guess the outcome of the match wasn't a concern of theirs and the focus became strictly on the lap dance-off that interrupted it.

I should tell you these classy ladies really got the crowd going when one girl decided to take off her bra and shirt and proceeded to grind all over the little fella, giving him the night of his life. At this point, it was fun for the whole trailer park family.

After a half hour, I knew I had gotten my full mini-wrestling fix. It was time to check that one off the bucket list, and thank the heavens above and the visitors from the west. Even though I left there without a clue on who won the main event that evening, I left comfortable knowing that all the people that did stay didn't know either.

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