|
So, as I passed through the family room, there on the television was Dancing with the Stars. Ordinarily, I would not have stopped because my Sportswriter Rule of Life No. 79 is, "It ain't sports if it's got sequins." But I stopped this time when I heard an announcer identify a dancer as a professional wrestler. I looked for the cauliflower ears that would distinguish the wrestler from the civilized folks and Master P. There were no such ears, nor even a nose with a broken bridge. Instead, by more intense staring, I was able to discover the wrestler was a beautiful woman whose legs reached from here to there with neither flaw nor interruption. My glasses soon became fogged. But through the mist I saw the tall blonde and her tuxedoed partner do the rumba. I waited around until I heard her name, Stacy Keibler, and I approved the judges' scoring, which gave the pair 29 points of a possible 30. Now, Stacy's sequins, I loved 'em. Before going on, I should make a confession. That trip through the family room was not my first flirtation with Dancing. The first came the week before, when I made a point of seeing ESPN broadcaster Kenny Mayne. Praise be, Kenny wore no sequins. Alas, he could not dance in the usual sense of the word. One online expert approved his routine, calling it "pure comic gold," though to my untrained eye Kenny resembled a robot in need of WD-40. Regardless, I stood in the family room mesmerized by whatever it was those people were doing. I am no dancer. Other than the occasional forced march at a wedding, I last danced in high school, and the dance that day, as called by our English teacher, Miss Brak, was a square dance. The more I watched Dancing, the more I came to understand that those people aren't dancers, either. George Hamilton's idea of dancing is my idea, which is, "If you must dance, try not to sweat all over her." And bring along a chiropractor for repairs. Most Januarys of his professional career, Jerry Rice has not sweated at all. He has run post patterns under footballs put in the air by quarterbacks who knew he'd be there when the ball came to earth. But now, in January 2006, Rice is retired from football, and what's the greatest pass receiver in history to do with himself when there are no more footballs to be caught? In Rice's case, he catches a dancer. He took his partner, Anna Trebunskaya, to the 49ers practice facility and put her through football agility drills, the better to remind the imperious Russian -- so bossy that first week -- that grace is not limited to those who have mastered the quick step. Viewers with Neanderthalian tendencies might have wished for Rice to send Anna over the middle between linebackers. He remained a charmer, though, and sprinted on stage for their dance, smiling, as if Anna were someone he was happy to see, maybe Joe Montana. I watch professional wrestling once every half-century or so. Killer Kowalski was big the last time I paid attention. So I missed Stacy Keibler's career in rasslin'. Here's how it went, with quotes from the official World Wrestling Entertainment website: "Realizing her dream of being a star in sports entertainment, Stacy got her start as a Nitro Girl ... ." She worked as Sky, Skye, Miss Handcock and Ms. Hancock, not to mention her tenure as manager of the Dudley Boyz, aka The Duchess of Dudleyville. The WWE website went on: "An accomplished wrestler, Stacy has also won her share of bra and panty matches and bikini contests, ruffling the feathers of other divas. She has even recently dated WWE superstar Randy Orton. Tragically, their relationship ended after a misunderstanding by the brash brat Orton, leading to an RKO on poor Stacy and the instant end to their romance on RAW." Further Googling of Keibler turned up the information that "Stacy has worked as a model and actress as well as a physical therapist technician and a cheerleader. ... Dancing since the age of 3 with a background in ballet, tap and jazz, it was easy to see why Stacy became a cheerleader. Stacy was one of the first Baltimore Ravens cheerleaders, working with the organization for two years." Oh, and she was also a full-time college student, "pulling in near-perfect grades." And not once mistaken for Killer Kowalski. |