I have a confession to make 

For those of you who think you know me, I have a confession to make: My name is Clara, and I’m a professional wrestling fan. Yes, it’s true.  

When I first started dating my husband more than 25 years ago, I thought he was such a nerd.  

Matthew would collect everything and anything “Star Wars” related, baseball cards, Denver Broncos, USC and New York Mets memorabilia and a whole bunch of other stuff I couldn’t relate to.  

Then I saw his collection of professional wrestling action figures, which, at the time, he said he bought for his young sons. I really never watched wrestling before except for the occasional Sunday afternoon with my tata.   

I just thought it was a bunch of guys in tights, running around a ring pretending to hit and throw each other around.  

Matthew and the boys would watch at least two different professional wrestling companies back in the day — WWF (World Wrestling Federation; now WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment) and WCW (World Championship Wrestling).  

After we got married, wrestling nights were a regular occurrence at our house — at least three times a week. While I watched, I really wasn’t invested. At first, I would only watch because they were watching.  

I began to learn some of the names and personalities, then some of the factions, and then the story lines. Back then, I was a big soap opera fan, so I could kind of relate. There’s lots of drama in professional wrestling.  

I started to watch because I wanted to see The Rock and his famously-raised eyebrow. I liked watching the Big Show, Chyna, Edge, Lita, Stone Cold Steve Austin and so much more.  

We would even go to live events when then would come to Albuquerque. I have pictures of Triple H, Kane and the Undertaker. I think I even have a picture of Eddie Guerrero some place. 

I guess I enjoyed it back then too, but after the boys grew up and graduated high school, I stopped watching wrestling. Matthew would tune in once in a while, but didn’t watch as regularly as we once did.  

Fast forward about 10 years and during the pandemic, life slowed down a bit and we were staying home more often. Matthew and I began watching WWE again. There were no crowds and most of the wrestlers had changed. 

Now I find myself watching wrestling on Mondays (after my weekly city council meetings) and Fridays and all the WWE pay-per-views. I know the wrestlers’ names, their story lines, their histories and probably more than I ever thought I’d want to know about them.  

I have my favorites — Seth “Freakin’ Rollins, his wife, Becky “The Man” Lynch,  Cody Rhodes, Rhea Ripley, Raquel Rodriguez, Rey Mysterio and Alexa Bliss.  

Then there are those heals that make my blood curdle — Austin Theory, Bayley, “Dirty” Dominik Mysterio and even the tribal chief himself, Roman Reigns, the WWE Universal Champion.   

Everyone has an addiction, and since I gave up smoking a year ago, I guess I found a new vice. At least this one won’t kill me.