I have to admit that I didn’t watch much wrestling this week. I caught a little bit of TNA’s gimmick fest, but overall the hectic atmosphere that is Christmas kept me busy. So, instead of being a smartass this week, I just want to write a little bit about my father. This is my first Christmas without him—he passed away early last February.

When I was a kid one of the only things Dad and I had in common was wrestling. We watched it every Saturday night and Sunday morning. Back then, you didn’t have to watch WWE to get your wrestling fix. We watched AWA on Saturday night and Wrestling at the Chase (great, great St. Louis wrestling) and WCCW (Texas) on Sunday mornings. Lord, how those Von Erichs used to piss us off. You guessed it, we were for the Freebirds. Terry Gordy’s iron spike amazed me. And to my cousin’s discomfort, I found I it does sort of hurt if you stick your thumb far enough into someone’s neck.

I know Buddy Roberts was the weak link. Did they ever pin anyone but Buddy Roberts—not in my recollection. But, I loved it when Flair would come to Texas and put one of those Von Erichs in their place. I still love the 1984 win over Flair by Kerry. I was rooting for Flair of course, but in retrospect, it was the right thing to do. It might not be a technical masterpiece of a match, but it’s one of my all time favorites.

Either way me and my dad never missed it. My daughter is now old enough that I’ll watch wrestling with her, and she loves it. However, I keep the remote control in my hands at all times in case I need to switch the channel if something too lewd or degrading to women shows up. And that happens often. But, watching wresting with my father is a memory that I just don’t want to deny my daughter even if the innocence of it is gone. I wish you all happy holidays and good memories.