Last night I dreamed about something…unexpected. I very, very rarely remember my dreams at all, maybe once or twice a year, so it was odd that what I would remember dreaming about was Grand Prix Wrestling.
If you didn’t grow up in the Maritimes you’re unlikely to know what that is. I’m pretty sure it only aired on local stations. Imagine the early days of the WWF, but with much lower budgets and hilarious nicknames. Even my own memories of it are quite fuzzy. But last night I could remember, as clear as day, names like Bulldog Bob Brown, Sweet Daddy Siki, Killer Karl Krupp, Big Stephen Pettipas, No-Class Bobby Bass, The Cuban Assassin and Leo Burke, and apparently my dream last night was the revival tour. It’s a bit hazy now but I’m pretty sure I remember someone grabbing the Cuban Assassin by his beard and throwing him, and Killer Karl’s signature line (in the subject line) definitely came up.
Weird. I don’t imagine I’ve thought about Grand Prix Wrestling in 25 years. Any bets on what I’ll dream about tonight? Littlest Hobo episode? Greatest American Hero theme song? My brother’s old yellow bike with the banana seat?