It begins

As you must be well aware of by now, I am a bit of a WWE fanatic. And things in the 'E have just become even more exciting. For the last few weeks, a series of cryptic YouTube videos have infiltrated our usual viewing. They state that on the second day of 2012, we will witness a return of epic proportions.

But who could it be? As much as I hope these vignettes are suggesting the return of one of my all-time favourite superstars, Christ Jericho, I'm not getting my hopes up. This time last year, we were given a similar set of promos, only to be disappointed with the final outcome. Therefore, I'm remaining skeptical. Hurry up January 2nd.

My guilty pleasure

As mentioned in my introductory post, I have a secret love of WWE Wrestling (although, not so secret now that I'm broadcasting this into the blogosphere. Luckily for me, I don't think this will reach many readers' eyes!).

I watch the TV programmes, have the official t-shirts of my favourite superstars, and last night went to my second live show at the O2 Arena. As much as I love my weekly fix of total non-stop action in the form of Monday Night Raw and Friday Night SmackDown, nothing can match the real thing. In a venue supporting 16,000 people, all who share the same passion for sports entertainment, the atmosphere is incredible and the chants that break out across the sea of spectators have real clout. Indeed, I don't think I've heard a crowd boo as loudly as those did last night when John Cena made his hotly anticipated appearance (it's so true, people love to hate).

Although I was unable to bag myself floor tickets, I was pleasantly surprised with how close to the ring my seat was. And aside from the screaming kids sitting behind me and bursting my ear drums with their high-pitched shrieking, it was a hugely enjoyable experience. I got to appreciate the fantastically toned physiques of Cena and Alberto Del Rio, and the hilarious mic-work of The Miz and CM Punk.

The night would have been complete if it were not for the extortionate price of refreshments. I was tremendously looking forward to indulging in a sickly portion of sweet and sour chicken as I sat back and enjoyed the greased up macho men grappling with each other, but to my horror a small portion of my favourite Chinese cuisine would have set me back an eye-watering £9. Usually I would never say no to sweet and sour, but in this case I had to make an exception (I am a student, after all).

WWE returns to the UK in April 2012 for the WrestleMania Revenge Tour, and tickets go on sale this Friday. Hopefully, I'll be quick enough to nab the best seats in the house and experience an even better show next time around. However, you can guarantee I won't be shelling out a tenner for snacks.

What's in a name?

As much as I'd like to say the name of this blog stems from my love of those late Summer nights when the days begin to get noticably shorter with every clock-rotation and you can finally wrap yourself up in your favourite cardi and indulge in a mug of hot chocolate without feeling guilty about being glued to the sofa in front of the TV... I can't.

The name actually originates from a guilty pleasure of mine: wrestling. When I was younger (and sometimes even now), I was mesmerised every Saturday morning by the insane characters, outrageous storylines and full-on attitude of professional wrestling. It was like a soap opera, but with 1000x more action. And I loved it! Of course, as a 12-year-old girl this was quite an 'unnatural' interest, and so no one outside of my immediate family was allowed to know anything about my love affair. I kept it hidden until very recently, when I rekindled my affection for 'sports entertainment'.

Now, however, I'm older and wiser. Much wiser. And I've come to realise that half-naked muscular men covered in baby oil grappling intensely with other half-naked muscular men covered in baby oil is in fact incredibly homoerotic... which now I think mesmerises me most of all.

NB. To publish this into the unforgiving realm of the blogosphere is perhaps unwise, and I am fully prepared for the onslaught I will inevitably face. Yes, I am a 23-year-old female wrestling fan, but please don't judge me for it.