Man, I remember when hearing that music meant one thing and one thing only, the Ultimate Warrior was on his way to the ring to wreck mayhem on whomever he was facing. There was something about that music combined with him sprinting to the ring like a madman and shaking the hell out of the ropes once he got into the ring that made the kid Brosephus go completely nuts.
Yes, I know that wrestling is scripted, and I have known that since I was much younger. That still didn’t take away the entertainment aspect of turning on the TV on a Saturday afternoon and watching Georgia Championship Wrestling or any one of the other wrestling programs that were on back in the day. During the course of my life, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting quite a few wrestlers, as many of them lived at one time or another in the Atlanta area. For those who think it’s all fake, a conversation with those guys in regards to the injuries and abuse they’ve put their bodies through is proof that it’s not all fake.
The younger Brosephus inside of me shed a tear this morning. I found out that the Ultimate Warrior collapsed and died in Arizona. This happened after he was just inducted into the World Wrestling Entertainment’s Hall of Fame this past weekend. At 54, he left behind a wife and two kids. In his last appearance on Monday Night RAW, he spoke words that, in hindsight, seemed like he was telling the world goodbye in his own way.
“No WWE talent becomes a legend on their own. Every man’s heart one day beats its final beat. His lungs breathe their final breath. And if what that man did in his life makes the blood pulse through the body of others and makes them bleed deeper in something that’s larger than life, then his essence, his spirit, will be immortalized by the storytellers — by the loyalty, by the memory of those who honor him, and make the running the man did live forever.”
Rest in peace. Your essence and spirit will indeed live on through the storytellers.