239 Tag Teaming
They had the professional wrestlers here in Moote Pointe the other day. Live and in person. Also on television. The young boys and their fathers by the thousands in a great indoor arena.
The boys came to see the modern-day versions of Hulk Hogan and that crew – people like the normal-looking champion, John Cena. And the history buffs came to see Rick Flair, who might be 100 years old but still performs.
The fathers came to see the women, people whom Aldus Huxley would describe as “pneumatic,” no longer called “lady wrestlers,” but, instead, “Divas.” This was a Diva tag team match, where two women are supposed to be in the ring at a time, and they alternate pretending to do each other bodily harm.
Sometimes at a match, people really DO get hurt. There was one popular guy, once, who fell from some kind of rope arrangement suspended from the ceiling. Only it wasn’t suspended all that well, and the poor guy crashed to the ground and died.
But mostly, no one gets hurt.
The Divas weren’t the only tag team match here that day, though. There was another one playing out in court about ten miles up the road.
Here, you had a kid charged with a minor crime, held in the kind of bail usually reserved for the CEOs of crooked energy traders or international terrorists or suspected serial killers.
There’s a bail hearing. Everyone’s in court. The solemn and stately judge sits there and listens to witnesses for the defense, then witnesses for the prosecution. The witnesses for the prosecution are late-teen women who speak copspeak, which means someone’s told them what to say.
After the witnesses are finished telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth that they have “sworn or affirmed” to do, “so help them, God.” Judge Solemn looks down at the paperwork and notices that the original bail (Gotti paid less,) was set by another judge with whom he’s familiar: his son.
Yes, a father and son judicial tag team.
So after all of three seconds of contemplation, he denies the bail reduction motion and everyone goes home or to lunch. Except the defendant, who now has waited behind bars for almost as long as the sentence for his crime. Seventeen days.
No foul, no harm?
Nah. No one gets hurt. But
The show was pretty much the same in the ring and in the courtroom. The outcome was decided well in advance.
Except the bikini Divas dress better.
You wouldn’t want to see the father/son tag team in outfits like that.
I'm Wes Richards, my opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.
(c) 2007 WJR