The Harder They Fall

It was either founding father Benjamin Franklin or WWE megastar Jimmy "Superfly" Snooka who said, "Every single time I smash an opponent's face into the turnbuckle I get a mean boner." Actually neither of those guys said that. I just made it up. But both men would probably be appalled at what the once-noble sport of professional wrestling has developed into in recent years. Gone are the subtle nuances inherent in a good ol' fashioned, no frills Von Erich family brawl. Missing are the playful gentlemen's rivalries and tastefully restrained fashions seen in Wrestlemania's heyday. Respectable, dignified monikers such as Junkyard Dog and Iron Sheik are overlooked in favor of titles like DX and Triple H, names better suited for a high-def surround-sound system than a proud gladiator of the wrestling mat. How far have the mighty fallen? Go ahead and Google "Shawn Michaels Kiss My Ass Club." Then pucker up and check out WWE's Saturday Night Main Event at American Airlines Center, 5:30 p.m. Saturday. Tickets range from $20 to $60. Call 214-373-8000 or visit
Sat., July 15

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