Wednesday, 1 April 2015

Part 2 of a three-part story on my mother's passion for underground female wrestling

Part 2: My mother revealed details to me on her secret life in the world of underground female wrestling 

Before making some coffee, my mother took a quick shower while I tried to focus my thoughts as I prepared some questions for her.  She came back down in her pyjamas, barefoot, made her coffee, sat on the couch, put her feet up against her in a crouched position and said: “I’m ready George.  Ask me what you want.  I tell you no lies.”

I felt like a journalist for Inside Edition asking questions to my own mother about a subject that was and still is taboo for many people.  “Okay, mom, I’m not sure where to start but first let me say that I thought you did great tonight and that I kind of understand why you’d want to keep this secret from your family.”

Mom: “Secret from our family?  Hmmmm.  Not really son.  It’s a secret from you and Emily, yes.  But believe me, dad is well aware of my wrestling proficiency.   In fact, he got me into this, like, over 20 years ago.”

Me: “20 years?  You’ve been doing this for 20 years?  Wow!  How’d you keep it a secret?”

Mom: “For one thing, I seldom fought at home.  And remember when your dad and I went on a few trips to New York, Toronto, Boston, Montreal, even Miami?  On most of those trips, I had an arranged match with another woman, while your dad and usually the other woman’s husband or boyfriend watched us fight.  We met a lot a really nice people from all walks of life, but also a few, let’s say, not-so-nice people.  Overall, I had intense, competitive and sometimes exhausting fights, but it was really a lot of fun.”

Me: “Really?  That’s why I saw you working out a bit more before some of those trips.  I thought you were trying to get a bikini body or something.”

Mom: “No, no, son.  I enjoy fighting other women, but I also try to win.  A lot of my opponents are in pretty good shape, so if I don’t train a bit for my cardio and muscle tone, I may not last too long.  You saw Gail tonight.  She’s a tough cookie.  I need to step up my game to fight women like her.”

Me: “Where do you find opponents?  They don’t advertise this and I’ve never seen any want ads for women wrestlers.”

Remember, this was in the mid-90s.

Mom: “Well, the internet is relatively new, but I’m aware of a few online sites that I go to, to find opponents.  But a lot of women that I meet are from word of mouth.  We’re kind of a small underground society and many of us know each other and recommend names of other women across North America who enjoy wrestling and catfighting, mostly in private settings.  I’ve also been to a few organized tournaments as well, but I’ve always asked that they respect my privacy.”

Me: “Can you give me some examples of fights you’ve had, mom?  I mean, what the women were like, how often you fought and did you win a lot.”

Mom: “That’s a long question, son.  In a span of over 20 years, I probably fought easily over 150 matches.  And I’ve seen them all.  I started a couple of years before you were born but I think it was after Emily.  Anyway, I guess I was around 25 years old when I had my first match.  I was younger and I wanted to fight women of roughly my same age, but there were a lot of women in their 30s and 40s who were into this and in fact, my first match was against a 40-year old housewife.  I have to tell you a few secrets here George.  Women fight for all kinds of reasons.  Some for sport and fitness, some to impress their husbands who often have a fetish to see their wives fight, some who need to let some steam out, some who like to compete, while some are, how do I say this delicately, turned on by the struggle and close body-to-body contact against other women.  I’ve met them all: married housewives, business executives, waitresses, nurses, students, even a doctor once, a tough bitchy lawyer and I even fought a police officer.  Oh, and yes, in case you wonder, yes, some were lesbians.”

Me: “Er, um, ahh, I’m speechless.  But you didn’t answer my question.”

Mom: “OK, let’s see.  Examples of fights.  Okay, to start, I prefer wrestling, but some women prefer catfighting.  I tried it a couple of times, but I worried that I’d come back home with bruises or a black eye.  They were intense and some had hairpulling, slapping, kicking, scratching, even punching.  I was sore and because I’m not into it as much as these women, I think that I lost all my 8 or 9 catfights.  Remember when you were about 7 or 8 years old and I wore a neck brace?  I told you that I pulled a neck muscle.  Well, let’s say that a certain housewife from New York yanked my hair so hard to the side that my neck was stretched to the point that I had some bruised tendons and required a neck brace for about a week to allow it to heal properly.  You think that men fight dirty or hard.  Trust me, women can be just as vicious, if not more.  So I prefer wrestling where we both test our skills, strength, heart and stamina, but in a more controlled environment than catfighting.  Even with rules, women fight dirty.  I’ve wrestled in many locales, but mostly at someone’s house or apartment, or even a hotel room that we rented.  I fought on carpets, gym mats, mattresses, grass, even sand, and would you believe that some women actually have wrestling rings in their houses garages or backyards.  Mind you some are small and kind of hand-made, but they are well-equipped to hold fighting events right at home.  I’ve seen some well-organized houses.  A couple of them had locked rooms, specially made just for wrestling.  You’d open the door and all you’d have is four walls and mats.  No furniture…  I tried mud wrestling and oil wrestling a couple of times, but I prefer the old fashioned way of  sweaty skin against sweaty skin.”

Me: “Sweaty eh?  Hmmm.  So, does that mean that you didn’t wear much, like tonight?  I mean, two women, in a closely fought battle, fighting so hard that they are all sweaty?  Ahem.  Sorry, eh, eh, I need to adjust my pants.  They’re a bit tight right now…  So mom, do you keep tabs on your win-loss record?”

Mom: “Many women don’t, but I secretly do.  I have a notepad hidden upstairs with the names and physical stats of all the women I’ve fought and whether I won or lost.  There’ no true pattern, but I think that I’m at about 90 wins and 60 losses.  It sounds like a lot, but over 20 years, it’s not much.  That’s about 7 or 8 matches per year of which I’d have won 4 or 5 and lost 2 or 3 on average.”

Me:  “What do you mean by no true pattern?”

Mom: “Oh, I mean that the age, size, type of matchup or the other woman’s background is irrelevant.  I’ve won against young athletic girls, but lost against stuck–up business executives in their 40s who didn’t look like they could take me.  You’d be surprised at how much discipline and heart can impact the result of a match.  Some skinny women with talent and discipline can beat heavier, stronger women.  And sometimes, I think some women lose on purpose.  Would you believe that I won against the police officer?  She looked tough but as the match went on, I could feel that she wasn’t always giving it her 100% and she seemed to enjoy being pinned, breast smothered and even face sat.  Oops!  Too much detail…  Next question.”

Me:  “No, no.  Go on mom.  Details, I want details.”

Mom: “Alright. Well, here’s another secret, son.  Your mom has wrestled naked many times and depending on whom I fought against, some of my matches would go a certain way.  I only found out that this woman I was wrestling against was a police officer after the match was over.  Our husbands were there and she asked that we fight in the nude.  That must have been when I was about 34.  I remember that she was very pretty, at least 5’ 8” tall, a good 145 lb and she had black hair.  She knew takedown holds and submissions that I hadn’t seen before.  I guess she must have learned them at the police academy.  But she didn’t finish me off when she could have, and when I managed to get on top of her, she’d squeeze my breasts and my butt and let me smother her.  I mean really smother her.  I sat naked on her face and she seemed to enjoy being in that position.  She didn’t submit, but didn’t fight hard enough to escape.  Anyway, I think she was bi.  The men loved it.  I’ll admit it.  So did I, but it was sometimes a bit awkward for me, sitting on a pretty woman, seeing her pretty face between my legs.”

Me: “Um, is it hot in here, mom, or is it just me.”

Mom: “Ha, you’re just a 19 year old student.  You must be enjoying this conversation.  I know how your dad feels about me wrestling other women.  You probably have some of his genes.  Maybe I shouldn’t go into such detail.  Your dad loves it when we talk about my fights.”

Me: “Speaking of dad, you said that he got you into this.  How did that happen?”

Mom: “Hmmm.  This could be a touchy subject.  We’re both adults, but you’re still my son.  So, how do I say this?  Well, even today, when your dad and I have sex, the foreplay is usually us wrestling naked.  He told me that he enjoyed it when we played rough in the early stages of our relationship, before we were married and let’s say that the rougher we played, the more turned on he was, especially when I beat him.  So I knew then, and still know today how to get your dad’s juices flowing.  So, one day, he asked me how I’d feel about fighting another woman in front of him.  You know me, son.  I’m open-minded.  So I told him that I could try it at least once and see how it goes.  He got all excited and it took us a couple of months before we could find a suitable opponent.  Oh, here’s another secret.  Do you remember our neighbors at our house on Maple Street?  The Johanssen’s.  They were Swedish and she was the blonde with the big boobs.  We lived there when you were born and we moved when you were around 9 or 10.  You were just a kid then, so you may not remember her.”

Me: “Umm, oh yeah, I remember them, I mean, her.  She was hot, mom.  Are you going to tell me what I think you will?”

Mom: “Yep.  She was my first matchup.  You know what we did?  Your dad took me to a sex shop to buy my wrestling attire.  Can you imagine?  My first match was against a Swedish blonde with big boobs and we fought wearing g-strings, garter belts and tight bras.  She was surprisingly athletic.  We had a good fight, but my first match was also my first loss.  The men were literally stunned when they saw both of us fight.  They were speechless.  It was quite funny for me to watch them watch us.  You know I was pretty hot myself 20 years ago.  I’ve gained some weight, but I can still kick some serious female butt even today.”

Me: “You said that you kept a notebook.  Just out of curiosity, did dad take some pictures or videos of you wrestling or catfighting?”

Mom: “Hah!  You wish…  But, yes, in fact he did, son.  Still does.  They’re hidden in a special hiding place.  But I really don’t think that it’s appropriate for me to show you pictures or videos of me, you know, your mom, fighting other women.”

Me: “Well, maybe just, you know, how about some pictures of you wearing a one-piece swimsuit or a bikini?  Anything!  Please mom…  C’mon, please…  Maybe some pictures that show more of your opponent than you so you’re not embarrassed.  I’m very curious.”

Mom: “Me, embarrassed?  Naw.  I’m not ashamed of what I look like or of anything that I‘ve done.  You go to many beaches in Europe and the whole family is naked, or at least the moms are topless.  It’s a lot more acceptable in that continent than here in North America.  It’s just that…, um, oh, never mind.  Let me see what I can find upstairs and I’ll show you just a couple of photos.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”            
My mother went upstairs and came back with a box of pictures, some going back to the 70s, when she first started.  She browsed through the stack and selected a few pics to show me on some of her matches.

Part 3 reveals stories of my mother's wrestling matches through photos 

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