PINT-SIZED PILEDRIVERS Words and photos by Carmen Macri This was undoubtedly the best night of my life. Imagine this: It’s a Friday night in the beautiful city of Jacksonville, Florida. You’ve endured a taxing workweek and all you crave is a weekend spent cocooned in your bed, binge-reading “Throne of Glass” until your eyes bleed. Your plan is foolproof until a text from your best friend disrupts your solitude: “Be ready in 10, I’m on my way.” In this type of friendship, questions are an endangered species. When they say be ready, you simply obey. Ten minutes vanish in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, we are parking at The Bar at the Arena (albeit at the rather pricey Jacksonville Fairgrounds). Still going with the flow and avoiding inquiries, you start harboring doubts. Did she truly drag you out of bed to visit a sports dive bar Downtown? At that moment, you would’ve preferred your usual haunt (Pete’s, of course). But in her typical style, things are never what they seem, because on the side deck of the bar awaits a miniature wrestling ring. Game. So game. The crowd is exactly what you would expect for this spectacular event: a mixture of rowdy frat boys and seasoned gentlemen. Excitement fills the air as everyone eagerly anticipates the opening act, “Little Ozzy,” the renowned Ozzy Osbourne tribute singer (arguably the finest in the business). Although the show was slated to commence at 8:30, as we neared 9:30, the crowd grew both tipsier and more impatient, yearning for the micro wrestlers to kick off the show. A little unprofessional if you ask me (pun intended) but I am not here to comment on their shortcomings (pun also intended).
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