"Slumming" on UHF TV Channels

My mother's guilty pleasure.

Members of each generation since time immemorial have taken the opportunity to loudly proclaim to members of the succeeding generation that their generation faced a much more difficult set of challenges than the succeeding generation. Man, that is truly a confusing sentence to read; think about how difficult it was to write. I don’t plan to attempt to decode it for you right now, because, I believe an entire column could be devoted to this confusing issue, and, frankly, my content-well is running a bit dry. So, I’m gonna’ need this later. My only conundrum is how to provide you with a link to a future column, which has yet to be published, and, in fact, has yet to be written. I mean, I know how to link to an already-published column: Say, for example, I wanted to point your attention to my perspective regarding the critical issue of the work ethic of Millennials: well, here it is. . .

You May Not be 'Burger King Material'

I guess you’ll simply have to keep reading the column religiously until the “generations” thing surfaces.

Setting aside that completely unnecessary preamble for a moment, my point was intended to be: “You kids in the 1990’s and 2000’s had a much richer television viewing experience than those of us who were kids in the 1960’s and 1970’s - we only had three channels!”

That’s right, as a youth in the Chicago area back then, I was able to enjoy: Channel 2 (WBBM, the CBS affiliate); Channel 5 (WMAQ, the NBC affiliate); and Channel 7 (WLS, the ABC affiliate). And, that was it.

Well, that wasn’t quite it. There was also Channel 9 (WGN, the first superstation), which typically broadcast at least 160 of the 162 baseball games the Chicago Cubs played each year, as well as a slew of syndicated sitcoms after school; and Channel 11 (the PBS station), which provided such highbrow programming as John Calloway’s Chicago Tonight, a nightly news show; Sesame Street (you know, with the puppets); and the Siskel & Ebert movie review show. Channel 11 also broadcast British comedies, such as: Monty Python’s Flying Circus; Fawlty Towers; and The Benny Hill Show - highbrow, indeed!

And, if the weather were clear enough, I could watch a static-encrusted Milwaukee Brewers baseball game on Channel 4, NBC’s Milwaukee affiliate, on a tiny, black-and-white television. And that was it.

Well that wasn’t quite it. All of the channels described above belonged to the VHF electromagnetic spectrum (“VHF” stands for “very high frequency” - who knew?). There was also a spectrum known as “UHF,” which stands for “ultra-high frequency.” And, this was the sandbox which contained all the guilty pleasures, which we thoroughly enjoyed, but which we denied ever watching, instead insisting that we were, in fact, devoted PBS viewers.

But, if we had never ventured into UHF territory, which included Channels 26, 32, and 44, in Chicago, we would have been deprived of such scintillating fare as: Chicago White Sox baseball games; professional wrestling; and Roller Derby. UHF was kind of like the “dark web” - it contained things you didn’t want others to know about.

One of those people who dabbled in UHF offerings was my mother. Her guilty pleasure was Roller Derby. Now, she came by this interest honestly, as she was a Chicago native, and Roller Derby was created in Chicago, apparently, around 1935. Perhaps she and her parents, and her brother all gathered around a black-and-white television, while she was growing up, cheering on her favorite team. Or, maybe they even ventured out to see Roller Derby live, somewhere in Chicago.

In case you’re unfamiliar with the whole Roller Derby thing, the rulesofsport.com website indicates that the match is conducted on an oval track, upon which are located five members from two distinct teams, all skating around the track, in constant motion, and that a member of one team, the “Jammer,” who sports a helmet with a star on it, attempts to pass all five members of the opposing team, scoring a point for each team member passed. The five members of the opposing team endeavor to thwart the “Jammer’s” progress, by (and, this may not be noted in the official rulesofsport.com rules, but I clearly recall from my time watching these matches in the 1970’s in the UHF universe) elbowing, punching, kicking, stomping, and otherwise brutalizing the “Jammer.”

The sport’s similarity to the “sport” of professional wrestling (also heavily featured in UHF-land) cannot be overstated, including the use of metal folding chairs being cracked over the head of participants. In other words, the violence displayed in both sports was not real. I hate to be the one to break that news to you, but, I’m sorry, each “sport” was entertainment, plain and simple. Which is not to say that the professional wrestling stars who I watched back then weren’t finely-tuned, professional athletes. I mean, c’mon? Dick the Bruiser? Bobby Heenan? Vern Gagne? The Crusher? Yukon Moose Cholak? Dusty Rhodes? Nick Bockwinkel? Andre the Giant? The Valiant Brothers? Killer Kowalski? The Sheik? These are the guys I remember; I’m sure you’ll let me know if I’ve forgotten someone.

And, the only names I can recall from my 1970’s Roller Derby viewing experience are: Ralphie Valladares (Ralphie stood 5’3”, according to his Wikipedia page), who was a founding member of the Los Angeles Thunderbirds team in 1960, and spent the next thirty years with them as a team member, and coach; Ronnie Robinson (who was Sugar Ray Robinson’s son, and whose father advised him not to follow in his footsteps as a boxer - I suppose law school was out of the question?); and “Psycho” Ronnie Rains - the nickname says it all. Good stuff, Mom.

Years later, I took my son to a Wrestlemania event in Philadelphia, which included the requisite cage matches, and the metal folding chair-bashing, and the microphone interviews with wrestlers vowing to annihilate another of their fellow “entertainers.” My son was entitled to choose one souvenir to purchase at the event, and he opted for one of those “We’re No. 1” foam fingers popular at many varied sporting events. The next day, my wife asked me, regarding the foam finger, which was black, but you know, it was wrestling, “Umm, did you notice which finger was reflected in the ‘We’re No 1’ foam finger?” Yep, it was that finger - not so much “We’re No. 1” as. . .well, you know. I suppose that’s why my application for “Father of the Year” was not processed that particular year.

The end of the Wrestlemania event featured a match between one of the members of the roster of wrestlers vs. the San Diego Chicken, a mascot for the San Diego Padres baseball team, created in 1974, and which had become quite an iconic figure, and was firmly entrenched in popular culture for years.

At the end of the match, after the Chicken had been pinned, and defeated, the winning wrestler theatrically removed the Chicken’s costume head, and who do you think was lurking in that costume?

That’s right - Pete Rose!

Pete would definitely have been right at home in the UHF universe.

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