As a fan of wrestling, and of sports in general, I feel that I shouldn’t have to say, what I need to say in this column. Ego is and always will be synonymous with sport. Our society cultivates this attitude from little league to the pros; if you can hit, tackle, shoot, or kick something better than everyone else, even though what you might accomplish through sport is of no benefit to society at large, you are told that you are special.
I know this first hand. Back in my day I was a puerty decent high school football player, until the first of four knee surgeries my junior year regulated me to the sideline for good. I played ball in a small town, and all of us guys; baseball players, wrestlers, and football jocks got away with murder in the town and in the classroom. As a teenager I cheated my way through math classes, and when the cops would pull us over we’d get a stern talking to; we’d be told to go and put the stop sign back that we had ran over and thrown in the back of the truck with MD 20/20 fueled plans to plant said stop sign on the baseball diamond of the rival school in the town across from us. Coaches, teachers and even parents, encouraged the worst in us, rolling their eyes and saying that boys will be boys every time we got caught fighting, or drinking beer.
Hind sight is always 20/20, and looking back I realize that I didn’t have to let things slide, that I didn’t have to take the easy route, that I could of prepared myself better for the life that I was going to lead, instead of dreaming about a life that an infinitesimal and privileged few in our society get the chance to lead. Thinking about how it was for me growing up, I can’t even begin to fathom what this past year has been like for someone who unlike me, even at my best, actually has talent to burn; Lebron James.
And maybe that’s why I enjoy sports so much. Maybe I fantasize that I’m Terrell Owens going over the middle in the 4th quarter, or that I am Kurt Angle on the top rope landing a perfect moonsault on my opponent. Sport heroes live our dreams for us, and sadly they can also remind us of the worst in us as well.
Greed and selfishness has come to the forefront of this me-first, what-have-you-done-for-me-lately attitude that has permeated everything from the NBA to WWE. Rolling your eyes at a athlete/performer who speaks of himself in the third person is one thing, but when the ego that leads to that kind of mind set gets in the way of the game, PPV, whatever, it’s time to take a step back and realize what all this stuff, what all the games and events are played for in the first place. IT’S ALL ABOUT THE FANS STUPID!!!!!!!!!!!! NOT YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Without our butts in the seat, your rolex wearin’ baracuda drivin’ test tube baby ass is working at Jiffy Lube. Bottom Line. When I was an undergrad, I would eat ramen noodles for a month to save up money for the next PPV. I think that you would be hard pressed to find anyone in WWE, or on any pro team that can relate to the type of life most of us fans lead.
I remember reading at article, where the New York Knicks got stuck in a snowstorm a few years back, and the team was forced to eat at a McDonald’s of all places. Allen Houston, starting shooting guard for the team, who makes like 7 to 10 million dollars a year, referred to the mickey-d’s pit stop as embarrassing. My heart just really goes out to Mr. Houston, particualriarly when I am diggin’ in my couch seat cushions hoping to find enough change so that I CAN go to McDonald’s. La-te-friggin-da.
And then you hear about WWE rumors, about boys worried about their spot, about someone worried about someone else getting too much heat on them, about not having a program to work after their shot at a title. And on live tv you see a supposed face wrestler screaming at a fan for holding up a sign that roots for his opponent.
Regardless of the reality of the situation, it’s what the fans SEE that matters in the end. So take a pill. Be grateful you get to do what you do. Stop whining like a bunch of pampered little bitches and just do your friggin’ job. Which in case you’ve forgotten is entertaining us, you know, the fans.
“Bleed the pot, when you’re hot you’re hot, when enough’s enough, do the fakers drop out? Promise me, you will always be too awake to be famous, too wired to be safe, and all you really wanted was everything, plus everything, but the truth, I only poured you, half a line.”
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