Rocky

Recently my husband wanted to see the movie Creed.  I had zero interest in watching it. I expected he knew that and that he would be watching it alone.

Somehow, though, we ended up watching it together.

I didn’t expect to like it, but guess what! I really did!

I thought it was a movie about fighting, violent and bloody. And it was, sort of. But it was also a sweet love story. I liked it so much!

My husband said, “You’ve never seen the first Rocky movie? Or any of them?” and I said, “Duh. No.” He suggested getting Rocky  and Rocky Balboa from the library, so I ordered them, but without much enthusiasm. What were the odds that I would like those movies too? Why not quit while I was ahead?
Anyway, after I picked them up, they sat for 2 weeks before a freak rainstorm washed out our beach plans and we decided to have the Rocky Movie night. (Yay)

Here’s the thing: I loved the movies. Both of them. And it wasn’t just because of the love stories (Yo, Adrian!). It was because of the character Rocky. OMG. The more I got to know him, the more I loved him.

So, of course it’s partly due to the whole ‘he’s Italian’ thing. But, I never thought he was good-looking or anything when I (and he) was young(er). It was about who he (the character) was in the movie. His kindness. His caring. His awkward attempts to show these wonderful characteristics to others, many of whom weren’t interested at all in his overtures. Not one bit. But he perseveres. Not because who they are, but because of who he is.

And it got me. So, you know. That’s why I was crying at the end of Rocky Balboa.