Then I'll get on my knees and pray....We don't get fooled again...

My good friend Frank posted a half-serious Facebook comment a few days back that he would like me to do a "match by match" breakdown of Wrestlemania 25...My knowledge of "pro" wrestling stems from growing up in the 80s and 90s (ever more indented in my mind from the few nights I watched those great "Wrestlecrap" compilations back at 66 College Ave.) WWF (and no, I don't mean the World Wildlife Federation which forced the WWF to become the WWE) was as prevalent in my elementary years as history books on American Presidents and "Donahue" on Channel 4 at 4:00 pm with an exclusive interview with Joe and Mary Jo Buttafuoco.

We were one of those families with the "illegal box" (the Northern New Jersey term for it..otherwise known as "descrambler")...You know, the ones that were able to get every channel by paying for just basic cable. They looked just like everybody else's box from the neighborhood. The only difference is we were able to see every great Pay Per View event that nobody wanted to pay to see. Like good 8 year old suburban children, we enjoyed violence and story-lines because we never believed the rumors that it was "fake". When Sgt. Slaughter threw fire in Hulk Hogan's face was that fake? What about when the 450 lb Earthquake took Jake the Snake's precious python "Damien" and proceeded to squash the snake with his patented "Earthquake splash"

My favorite wrestler growing up was the "Macho Man/Macho King", Randy Savage. I think I picked him because everybody loved Hogan and the Ultimate Warrior(and had their WWF wrestling buddy stuffed likenesses, which were marketed so that young kids wouldn't beat the living crap out of each other..While the WWF made a fortune, it's social statements on issues such as steroids and this speak for themselves)....but the other reason was I had developed a pretty good impression of wrestling royalty. (ask Mr. Mondello...honest to God)

But on this historic occassion...the Silver Anniversary that has become ingrained in our culture as the "wing bowl" and the "Biggest Loser" finale..I'm reminded about my day with one of the great wrestlers of all time. This man was WWF champion for 5 1/2 years! (albeit before my brother was born) Ok, he defeated Bret the Hitman Heart at Madison Square Garden to hold the WWF Championship (for 10 days). The curator of the "cross-faced chicken wing" himself (and former Presidential candidate), Bob Backlund.

So fast-forward to February of 2000. Yours truly was in the midst of his state-chairmanship of the "New Jersey Teen Age Republicans" and with that title came power. Up in Glastonbury, CT, Mr. Backlund was preparing to be the Republican challenger to freshman Representative John Larson. Now, when you are a kid in politics, you believe anybody can win...even if the demographics of the district are totally the other way. Why would Bob Backlund run if he couldn't win?? I mean, WHO WOULDN'T WANT BOB BACKLUND TO BE THEIR CONGRESSMAN? So, I called the HQ of the CT GOP looking for the number for Backlund's HQ. They obliged, I called...and Bob Backlund answered the phone at his HQ. I mean, how cool is that? We chatted. He answered all of my great wrestling inspired questions. And then proceeded to tell me that he was going to be in New Jersey for a Monday Night RAW taping in a few weeks and would love it if I helped him campaign at the event. (not to mention, we'd get in free to a sold out event) He would be selling t-shirts at a table, on the concourse in the arena formerly known as Brendan Byrne. In hindsight, it didn't matter to me that he was selling t-shirts to raise money for his bid, instead of hitting up political action committees, big companies, wealthy donors who could max out, or even the Republican National Congressional Committee.

So the day comes. My brother tags along for the ride and we meet Mr. Backlund in the driveway where cars can pull directly to the arena floor, thinking we'd get a peek at "the Rock" or something. After exchanging pleasantries, Bob Backlund proceeds to give my brother and me a box of t-shirts to sell in the parking lot. Mr. Backlund believed that "showing them to people on their way in" will entice them to come see him on the concourse near the "Winners Club". We obliged. Because Bob Backlund said so. Brandon and I did this for about 5 minutes until a van from the NJ Sports and Exposition Authority security (those "yellow jackets" who swarm evil-doers and break up fights during Giants and Jets games) came by and told us to get in the car.

They then took us to an undisclosed location beneath the arena that none of us only believed was in Philadelphia. They'd ask the standard questions: "Who told you to sell these?" "Did you know what you were doing was illegal?" "Who is your daddy and what does he do?" And we earnestly answered "Bob Backlund told us to! We're with him and he works for the WWF and he told us to stand out here." We're 17 and 15 year old kids who just wanted to get our wrestling hero elected to Congress. After about a half hour in the care of the pseudo-authorities (and through the countless thoughts if we were going to juvie or not) , we were discharged to the arena to the care of Mr. Backlund, who was already was taking $10 bills, signing the t-shirt, posing for pictures and not exactly reporting where the contributions were coming from (an Federal Election Commission no-no).

Bob then wondered what happened to us, we told him the story, and he then proceeded to put us to work.(I don't think he knew that hawking unlicensed product in the parking lot of the largest sports complex in America was a crime....I mean, its not like we used a garbage bag to hide the stuff....or I was standing there with an "I Need Tickets" sign and my brother was 10 steps away selling them) I'd collect the money and take the pictures. He'd be Bob Backlund. Posing with fans, giving them the cross-faced chicken-wing and a lasting photo that probably hangs on the mantle of many whom were there that night. After the line died down, we found some seats in the arena and watched the show. Bob Backlund may have been a "wrestling hero". But not the Peene family. "Bob Backlund is the strangest man I've ever met", still says my brother. A grainy photograph and mental scars are all that remain from this infamous day.

If I knew Oliver Stone, his hypothesis would be: If wrestling were fake, would he have endangered the futures of two young Republican kids who just wanted to meet their WWF heroes? I mean, someone must be so mentally deranged to do such a thing...Mr. Stone, that's debatable.

That would not be the end of Bob Backlund. Turns out the contact number I had was really a home-office. Because I was that kid in the college who had a Treo smartphone (the one that would flip open....and was replaced 3 or 4 times), he did get a few calls from wrestling-aficionado and some would leave undiscernable messages on his tape during the wee-hours of the morning.

Hey Brandon, I hear Randy "the Ram" Robinson lost his job at the Acme deli counter and might be running for Congress from his Elizabeth trailer. Feel like selling t-shirts?