Watching Mr. McMahon, Netflix’s glossy new “sports entertainment” docuseries, the lapsed fan recalls all manner of wrastlin’ minutiae. Fresh off her best new artist win at the 1985 Grammys, Cyndi Lauper launched a brief second career as a World Wrestling Federation “manager” and mascot. WrestleMania II, a strange and unlovely affair, felt disjointed because it