Grandmaw's Tell

I feel as though I've talked about wrestling and wrestling fans a lot lately. Well, why stop a good thing when I'm on a roll?

Poker players often have what is known as a 'tell'. It is a signal by a player which 'tells' other players something about the guy in question. My brother for example had a buddy who, when they played poker, generally laughed and joked. But when he held a good hand he became quiet and serious. That 'told' the other players to be careful about betting against him. Tells are usually the unconscious, unintended quirks of a player.

Me Grandmaw Hutchins liked wrestling. Yet unlike our friend Washington Calhoun whom I spoke of a few days back, she didn't get super excited while watching. She just sat in her rocking chair in front of the TV and payed attention to what was happening.

Creak, creak, creak, went her rocker as she eased it back and forth. Creak, creak, creak.

But she had a tell. When something exciting was about to happen, or at least when she anticipated something big was about to occur, she stopped rocking.

Creak, creak, creak, stop. She would hold the rocker in one position until the throw or the body slam or the punch landed. Then she would start rocking again. Creak, creak creak, waiting for next big moment.

Creak, creak, creak, stop. Grandmaw's Tell. As regular as rain. It let you know what was happening without actually watching the TV screen.

Washington Calhoun

There was a gentleman in the neighborhood when me Pops was growing up with the somewhat regal American gothic name of Washington Calhoun. He was a nice man, Pops opined, great towards everyone among family and friends. If he had a vice at all, it was devotion to wrestling.

When television came along he could feed that vice with regularity. His wife, Mrs. Calhoun, who is all Pops knew her by though one hopes she may have had a name fitting to her husband's, declared that it was almost comical to watch Wash (as she called him) watch wrestling on TV. He'd leap from the couch punching air at the spectacular throw of one competitor by another and yell bloody murder when the heel, the bad guy, would commit some heinous act when the referee's back was turned, unable to believe that the ref could miss such atrocity. 

"A mule couldn't take the beatings those guys take," he once remarked, amazed, apparently never sensing the real reality of televised wrestling. 

The day came however when Mrs. Calhoun had to ween Wash from wrestling. 

If you're familiar with wrestling at all you've likely seen the move where a wrestler would climb to the top of the turnbuckle at the corner of the ring and do a body slam, diving off the turnbuckle with a flying prone pose (arms and legs spread out to form a giant human X) onto an opponent lying flat on his back on the floor. It's a pretty common thing, and often meant to end a match.

Mrs. Calhoun woke up late one night to see her husband climbing the bedpost at the corner of their bed. As he spread out his arms before her shocked eyes, she realized what he was doing. In his sleep, he was preparing to body slam whomever he was wrestling in a dream. "Washington Calhoun!" she screamed.

But it was too late. Fortunately for her, he was aimed away from the bed. Unfortunately for him, her yell was not enough to save him from crashing full on onto the bedroom floor, rattling the windows and causing the house to shake.

Mr. Calhoun wasn't hurt too bad. His nose was bloodied but that was about it. But his wrestling watching privileges were severely curtailed. By order of, shall we say, the management.