She Likes to Watch

I like to think of myself as a bit of an intellectual. I watch opera, read lengthy novels. My tastes are a wee more refined than your average bumpkin.

I mean, I’m no sophisticate, but I can tell the difference between French’s mustard and Grey Poupon.

Then why, oh why, am I panting with anticipation at the thought of tonight’s season premiere of “American Gladiators”?

Hosted by “Hollywood” Hulk Hogan and Muhammed Ali’s daughter, Laila, NBC’s “American Gladiators” is the ultimate exercise in schadenfreude.

Like the original ’80s-’90s television show, this new-and-improved “Gladiators” pits contestants against spandex-clad “gladiators” in a series of physical challenges.

The men are buff, the women smokin’ hot. And the challenges? Downright ridiculous.

Competitors fire tennis balls, clamber up padded cliffs and duke it out on platforms suspended 12 feet above water. They wrestle, run and hang from rings. And man, do they get clobbered.

Part of the appeal is the gladiators themselves, whose names are the stuff of “Street Fighter.”

My personal favorite, Wolf, looks like a cross between a bayou croc wrestler and an out-of-work Shakespearean actor.

Titan, the Aryan poster child, has enormous pecs and baby-smooth skin. Justice, the show’s most massive bruiser, weighs in at 6-foot-8, 290 pounds.

And then there’s Hellga, a 6-foot-1 valkryie with the voice of James Earl Jones.

This season, two former contestants join the ranks: Evan Dollard, now named Rocket, and Monica Carlson, rechristened Jet.

See how obsessed I’ve gotten? My mouth is actually watering right now.

Have I been suckered by NBC’s hucksters? Or is “American Gladiators” possibly … quite possibly … one of the most entertaining shows on television?!

I’ll let you be the judge.

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The second season of “American Gladiators” premieres tonight at 8 p.m. on NBC (channel 6).

* Photo courtesy of NBC/Universal.