20 Years Of My Mania

                Something weird was happening when I went back to school in August of ’98.  Every guy that I talked to (no lie, either they already were, or would be before the school year was over) was talking about wrestling.  Even some girls for that matter.  Everywhere I looked I saw nWo, DX or Austin 3:16 t-shirts.  Guys were constantly doing the crotch chop, or saying “give me a hell yeah!”  One kid even worked the latter phrase into a presentation he was giving in front of the 8^th period English class.  The crowd roared in approval. 

                Initially I had no idea what any of this stuff was.  I asked my friend Josh Allen constantly about these various things because he was one of the main perpetrators of them.  After making fun of me for being dumb, he would tell me it’s “wrestling stuff.”

                Wrestling stuff huh?  I had dabbled with the WWF when I was around second grade.  I have a vivid memory of Macho Man Randy Savage getting the crap kicked out of him and him bleeding from the mouth.  I also remember Doink the Clown and his mini friend Dink running around like idiots.  It only lasted a few weeks before my mom or dad (can’t remember which) told me it was fake.  That really pissed me off. 

                Why would they try to trick us like that?  was my basic thought on the matter.  From that moment forward, I hated wrestling and everything it stood for.  I more or less looked down a little on someone who was dumb enough to enjoy anything involving wrestling. 

                All this was running through my mind as I saw every person in my daily life CONSTANTLY referencing wrestling in some fashion.  I need to reiterate, I’m not exaggerating when I say every guy that was a close friend, acquaintance, or even guys I didn’t like but had to be around, I heard reference wrestling at some point that school year.  Everyone would flock to it, no matter what it was, as long as it was perceived as “cool.”  Even if their fandom didn’t last more than a minute, it was seventh grade, and what was cool was essential to daily life.  And in seventh grade, wrestling was cool, and I hated it.

                It was dumbfounding to me all these morons were brainwashed by two silly wrestling companies (WWF and WCW).  It eventually moved beyond dumbfounded, and eventually started to piss me off.  So, I did what I always do when something becomes popular and I don’t know anything about it, I resisted it. 

                The more the days wore on, it became clear that I had a one-man rebellion going on.  That really frustrated me.  I wanted to be cool, but I had my principles dammit!  Which would win out in the struggle for Victor’s soul?  If you guessed “being cool” then you win the big prize! 

                In hindsight my vendetta was quite silly.  Who cares what everyone else likes?  And if I want to like it too, so be it.  I missed out on some of the major events of something that would be become one of the biggest aspects of my life due to my dumb pride.

                Around Thanksgiving time of that year, I couldn’t take it anymore.  I was tired of being excluded from various conversations or being ridiculed for “not getting it.”  I slowly lowered my shields to the idea of wrestling being a thing for me.  Little did I know that the rushing waters of the WWF would plow its way through those shields and totally engulf me in the best way possible. 

                I distinctly remember being in 8^th period English class, (the same one that Jeremy Callen got the class to yell “hell yeah” during his speech, but that happened later in the school year) and turning around talking to Ryan Ammons who was sitting behind me, and asking him basic wrestling questions about this guy or that guy.  Why neither one of us was paying attention I have no idea, but that conversation left a mark on me. 

                God bless Ryan, I had almost every class with him that year, and I was constantly barraging him with wrestling questions.  It’s a wonder I didn’t drive him crazy.  We always talked about that week’s Raw (the weekly WWF TV show) of course, but I wanted to know the history (the internet was in its infancy remember).  This eventually carried over into 8^th grade, due to a similar schedule again, and the same deal happened with my friend Matt Henderson who was added in the mix as one of my go-to wrestling bros.  My cousin Eddie was also a life-long fan, and we talked on the phone quite a bit, so he became another vital fix for my wrestling addiction (still is to this day).

                I couldn’t believe how things were changing that year.  Even in Mr. Gibson’s social studies class we usually talked wresting with him the first couple minutes after the bell rang.  It was awesome.  Wrestling was the shit, and I was more than happy to announce to anyone who asked that I was now a fan.  (something that is really easy to do when everyone agrees with you, I eventually learned that this wouldn’t be so easy in the upcoming years.) 

If you look closely you can see posters of Austin, Road Dogg, Foley, and Shamrock.  No HHH ones though, that dirty traitor!

                As March rolled around, it became WrestleMania time.  For those who don’t know, WrestleMania is the biggest show the WWF has each year.  Consider it the “Superbowl” of wrestling.  I was really excited for ‘Mania because I knew it was this mythological thing in the world of wrestling.  I knew I wanted to be a part of it. 

                When I look back, I have no idea how I convinced my parents to buy WrestleMania that year.  my enthusiasm must have been infectious though because the rest of the family was slowly getting on the wrestling train, and would stay there for about a year.  (FYI, I have nothing but fond memories of that time period) Still, they were nowhere near the level of freak I was becoming, and figured a $34.99 price tag would never fly—but somehow it did. 

                For those of you reading (thank you by the way) who hate wrestling with passion, you can stop reading now because I’m just going to nostalgically recall events from the show.  Or, you could read some more and who knows what could happen? 

                March 28^th, 1999.  20 years to the day that I’m writing this now.  I was watching the hype videos that were played on the PPV channel before the show started.  I was ready to rock.  The main event was Stone Cold Steve Austin vs. the Rock, who are arguably the two greatest stars of all-time.  This was their first of what would be three WrestleMania matches. 

                The show introduction which was a highlight video narrated by old time wrestler Freddie Blassie is still one of the greatest intros I’ve ever seen.  It truly made you feel like you were about to see something special. (The video below is the same narration, but with more current wrestlers.  I couldn't find the original version on Youtube anywhere.  You still get the same chills just hearing his voice though.)

                The Brawl for All was a legit (trust me) boxing match between wrestler Bart Gunn and professional boxer Butterbean (the bald boxer from the first Jackass movie that wails on Knoxville).  Bart Gunn had won the “brawl for all” tournament to face Butterbean as his reward.  It wasn’t quite the reward one would expect.  If you got up to pee, you may have missed it.  Butterbean knocked out Gunn in 35 seconds with the most devastating punch I’ve ever seen.  Gunn’s career was over after this, but he should count himself lucky that his head is still attached to his neck.  Yikes. 

                Kane faced off against HHH who was the leader of DX, you know those hoodlums who went around telling everyone to “suck it”?  Naturally that meant HHH was super cool, and besides his girlfriend Chyna had just left him for Kane so he had the sympathy vote too. 

                Something miraculous happened during the match as Chyna double-crossed Kane and whacked him with a steel chair.  She and HHH embraced and the crowd roared in approval.  All was right in the world.  DX was whole with Chyna back in the fold.

 

                Fellow DX member X-Pac took on that silver-spoon whiney coward Shane McMahon, in what was sure to see Shane get his comeuppance from his weeks of taunting and cheap-shotting X-Pac.  I was sure of this because the prior week’s Raw, X-Pac had challenged Shane to a fight on the streets.  X-Pac got off one kick on Shane before his buddies, the dastardly sweater vest-wearing Mean Street Posse all jumped X-Pac and then took off in Corvettes.  Vengeance must be had! 

                This particular storyline really hooked me in.  X-Pac had become “my guy.”  I loved his karate kicks and his fire that he showed every match.  The fact he did a crotch chop ever 10 seconds was just the icing on the cake.  I thought Pac was the man.  I couldn’t wait to see him destroy Shane. 

                Things didn’t exactly go as I had planned.  The moment X-Pac came from behind the curtain, the McMahon lackies, Pat Patterson and Jerry Briscoe, aka the stooges, attacked X-Pac from behind.  Granted he had no problem beating up those two middle aged men.  That sounds terrible in print, but trust me, in context of the world of wrestling, they deserved it!  Shane and X-Pac played quite the cat and mouse game throughout much of the match.  That dastardly Shane was no dummy though, he had his personal bodyguard Test with him who was a rookie wrestler that was 6’6” and jacked to the gills.  Any chance Shane got to distract the referee so Test could beat on X-Pac, he took it.

                “Oh, come on!” I remember yelling out loud.  This damn Shane was such a cheater.  Eventually X-Pac got ahold of Shane’s belt and started whipping him with it.  That was extremely cathartic for me, but before I knew it, that damn Test was back interfering on behalf of Shane.  Ah, I couldn’t take it anymore!  Then help arrived. 

                HHH and Chyna came down to the ring to even the score.  This nonsense had clearly gone on for too long.  HHH got in the ring and proceeded to Pedigree (his finishing move) X-Pac to ground allowing Shane to pick up the win. 

                I sat there stunned.  What had just happened?  I felt my heart sink.  Suddenly fellow DX members Road Dogg and Billy Gunn (not to be confused with his “brother” Bart who was nearly decapitated earlier) came to the ring.  My initial thought was that they too were going to beat up X-Pac.  I probably would have vomited if that happened.  Fortunately for me, and the carpet in front of me, they came to X-Pac’s rescue.  I’ll never forget Road Dogg saying, “That jackoff (HHH) is finished!”  That filled me with hope.  HHH and Chyna had pulled a rouse on everyone, but dammit the three remaining DX members will still stay strong and fight back!  This betrayal is my most vivid memory from the entire show.  I had a picture of HHH on my wall, which I proceeded to rip down and throw away.  That bastard! 

                I was emotionally exhausted after all that had transpired, as I tried to settle in for the next match which was a Hell in a Cell (giant cage match with a roof on top) between Big Boss Man and the Undertaker.  This match made little sense because both guys were villains at the time, and no one gave a shit about this match. 

                Cell matches are supposed to epic.  This one didn’t even last 10 minutes.  Which in the end was a blessing because this one was awful.  So bad in fact that many years later when WWE (formally WWF) released the DVD anthology of the Hell in a Cell that supposedly contained every Cell match ever up to that point, yet failed to even put this match on the DVD set.  Yes, it was so bad that they lied and said it never even happened. 

                To top of this crap show, Undertaker “hung” Bossman with a noose from the top of cage.  Yes, we were indeed subjected to him hanging there and we didn’t know whether he was alive or dead.  It was really uncomfortable.  Of course, the next night on Raw he was fine, and they made little mention of it thereafter.  It made for good discussion for 7^th graders the next day, but overall was a truly awful segment in every sense. 

                After having my heart ripped out, then watching a man get hung, I was desperately ready for something good.  It was main event time.  Rock vs. Austin.  Austin was coming off probably the greatest year anyone in wrestling had ever had, and Rock was rapidly approaching his elite status.

                There were so many great hype videos for this match.  It really felt like a big deal.  Most fans would prefer their next match in 2001 over this one or the one in ‘03.  To me it’s no contest.  This one, WrestleMania 15 is their best.

                After a wild match, beloved anti-hero Stone Cold had beaten the Rock for the WWF title.  The evil billionaire Vince McMahon (Shane’s dad) tried everything to keep Austin from winning, but in the end good triumphed over evil and everyone went to bed happy. 

                The next day I couldn’t shut up about the show.  So much crazy stuff had happened.  So many emotions were flowing through my body.  I was so into it already, but now I was hooked.  Officially. 

                At that point I had a nine o’clock bed time.  I made the declaration to my parents that I now had to stay up until 10 to watch Raw.  I would even go to bed at 8 on the other nights to make up for it if I had to.  Fortunately for me, they thought that was fair to stay up until 10 on just one night.  So yes, in case you were wondering I watched my first WrestleMania without ever watching an entire episode of Raw, I only ever saw the first of the two hours.  (Of course, I would find out everything that happened the next day at school.  Remember: no internet!) It’s all so ridiculous in hindsight.

                So here I sit writing to you 20 years to the day that I officially became a wrestling superfan.  I’ve had my ups and downs with it over the years.  There’s been times where I didn’t really like WWE’s product, and watched different wrestling promotions almost exclusively.  I say “almost” because I inevitably would get online and look at what was happening in WWE, even if I wasn’t watching it.  I couldn’t let go of it entirely.  And even if I wasn’t watching their current stuff, I would watch my old tapes, like my WrestleMania 15 tape that I taped on this very night, and remember those times fondly.  I should also point out, that I didn’t have any blank tapes left and decided to tape over The Sandlot, which was a movie I loved, but something had to give, and I figured I could get the real version for Christmas, and not the lame ABC Family version we had taped off the tv. (I didn’t even know they puked on that ride because that scene wasn’t aired on my version.) 

                WrestleMania 15 in hindsight is considered a pretty poor show considering how hot the product was at the time.  I can understand the critics’ point, but this show can only be viewed through rose-covered lenses for me.  Even if I wanted to not like it, there is no way I could do so.  Every single time I watch it, the nostalgia runs all through me and I feel like I did on that night 20 years ago.