Tuesday, October 30, 2012

This is how NOT to talk to me about wrestling.



This is a usual conversation:

Me: I do not like _______________. I feel __________ and ___________ could both be better used.

Speaker: Well let me tell YOU aaaaaall about the business, little lady. ___________ is making MILLIONS okay?? He's a millionaire doing this. He makes more money than ANY of those little Indy guys you keep following.

Me: That's nice. I don't care. I do not like _______________. I feel __________ and ___________ could both be better used.

Speaker: Well c'mon, it's all about the business!!

Me: The business that keeps tanking? The business that just lost more ratings just last week? I feel that with the slump in said "business" that I'm not the only one who does not like _______________. I feel __________ and ___________ could both be better used.

Speaker: Well "TCH ugh" You just don't understand ANYTHING! Little Lady, _________ and _________ are earning really good money. You think they don't know? They are SO playing you. They're earning millions.

Me: That's nice. I don't care. I do not like _______________. I feel __________ and ___________ could both be better used.

Speaker: Well all the INDYYYYY shows you go to are just matches where people jump off of stuff and flop around.

Me: You never saw AAW.

Speaker: Well duh NO!! Because ALLL the Indy places are JUST LIKE the rinky-dink, podunk place I got to in somebody's backyard. DUH.

Me: So you've never seen AAW.

Speaker: NO I don't need to.

(This is now one hour of me pestering the speaker to see at least one photo from an AAW show. I then pester him/her into watching at least one 30 second clip of it, without bitching like a little girl about business this and "Double-Double-Eee" that. I chose AAW because they are in indoor promotion with REAL wrestlers and actual talents people have heard of. It's really hard to call Scott Steiner "backyard" but go ahead and try it some time. Assuming you live through the night, post a comment and tell me how it went, Ok?)

Speaker: ........ UGH.

Me: Now do you see why I like the Indies? I'm not paying for someone to bitch at me about "the business". If I wanted to hear that crap, I'd stand next to a water cooler at Staples.

Speaker: Well... you just don't get it, OKAY??? it's all about making MONEY. They're not your friends, it's all about MONEY. They're about making MONEY. That's why ________ was in the story he was in on Monday.

Me: If this was about money, ____________ would have been booked better. I do not like _______________. I feel __________ and ___________ could both be better used.

Speaker: Well... what would you have ______ do then, instead of ________???

Me: I would have booked ________ and _________ in a wrestling match. It would have lasted 10-20 minutes, would have had a simple finish and would have set things up for the PPV.

Speaker: Oh yeah right like people care about flip flops or Dean Malenko grapples. Wise up little lady! This is the REAL world. And in the REEEEAL world, people pay to see business. It's all about business!!

Me: Really? Then why are the PPV buyrates, TV ratings and merchandise sales all in the toilet?

Speaker: .............................................. Well ALL of wrestling is DYING. So why do you care? UGH!! Just sit back and enjoy it already!!

Me: No. I do not like _______________. I feel __________ and ___________ could both be better used.

This is a real conversation that I have had with too many people.

Ironically? The people who want to tell me how "the business" works... have never once worked in the company (WWE) that they keep defending.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Dear Bruce Tharpe

I would like to preface this by saying that I have been watching the NWA from afar since the week I was born. I've never known a day without the NWA, and I've defended the respect for it's history from many a naysayer.

Not anymore.

While I will always hold a fondness in my heart for what the NWA used to be, and I hold a larger spot for it's wrestlers and for the title (or what it once meant) recent events have caused me to turn my affections elsewhere.

For those of you out of the loop, the NWA was recently restructured, under the guidance of it's new owner, Mr. R. Bruce Tharpe. Much like Vince McMahon Jr. back in 1982, upon letting the ink dry on the spiritual deed to the company, Tharpe began severing ties to many of the promotions and wrestlers who kept this company alive.

Then just a mere two weeks before the last of the 7 Levels Of Hate matches was set to be booked, Tharpe pulled the NWA sanctioning of the cage match, meaning that if Colt Cabana were to win the match, his prize would be essentially a pat on the head. Why? Because the NWA title cannot change hands in an unsanctioned match. The belt had prior been on the line, Tharpe pulled it.

Now Colt did win, but again, his prize is a sense of accomplishment. Nothing more.

Adam Pearce, being a man of honor, said that he felt Colt deserved the belt, and offered it. But Colt declined, based on what the NWA has become. So both men walked out of the cage, leaving the belt behind.

And how does the NWA respond? Via a Facebook post, like a 15 year old girl, of course, complete with the misspelling of the word "endeavors"

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

The NWA™ World Heavyweight Title has been vacated. The Board of Governors wish former champion Adam Pearce the best in his future endeavours. There will be a new NWA™ World Heavyweight Champion crowned on Friday, November 2nd in Clayton, New Jersey.

R. Bruce Tharpe, President
National Wrestling Alliance™

So this is my response:

Dear Mr. Tharpe,
       Colt and Adam were your two biggest and brightest stars. While I appreciate and understand why they both chose to walk away from the belt, I hope you understand that the changes you have made to the company Mr. Tharpe, are the reason why they walked.

Adam was your biggest supporter, and the one person who made the loudest noise defending your company. If not for guys like him, the NWA would not be at the level it is right now, and I am very sad to say it is downhill from here. This company has an illustrious past, built off of the blood, sweat and tears of wrestling's finest, and by ruling the final of the Best of 7 an unsanctioned match, your company not only screwed over Colt Cabana, costing him a title he deserves, you screwed the fans out of their money. And it's obvious that you do not care about it.

And in not caring about anything other than your outdated and selfish demands, you are costing the NWA it's very existence. The NWA itself was hanging on by the thread from the heart strings of your biggest supporter, Adam Pearce. And now that this last thread of destiny has been severed by your own greed, this company, the one I have loved since I was fresh from the womb, has no future to speak of.

Sincerest in disappointment,
Ms. Koriander Ake


UPDATE: This is Adam's well said response to the NWA:


Monday, October 22, 2012

1-800-DENTIST is a SCAM! $412 just to say Hello??

I would like to preface this with a warning. Today's blog is littered with bold text, capital letters and plenty of adult language. Parents and grammar buffs beware.

As I type this, my mother is holding her head in severe pain, and right now I can't tell if it's because of the dental visit or the bill.

Friday, she cracked her tooth. It was a molar, previously filled by some "genius" who decided that he was the Superman of dentists, and could "save" the bad tooth. Well instead of just pulling it, me made a lovely hole in it, and now it's cracked in half.

So she called all three 24-hour emergency dentists.

They closed at 7 and are not open on the weekend.

So much for that 24-hour bit!!

So she called all the other dentists in the area.

All of them not only close early, they refused to return the calls and left us with an answering machine, stating that you need to plan emergency visits at least 3 weeks in advance.

...I will say that again.

You need to schedule an emergency at least three weeks in advance.

...

How in the name of all things holy with cat piss can you plan an EMERGENCY THREE WEEKS IN ADVANCE???

So we place a call to 1-800-DENTIST

... Who promptly dropped the call.

Saturday evening, 1-800-DENTIST calls her back on her cell phone.

"So! Didja find anybody yet? You didn't?? Well, we can't be BOTHERED to do AAAALLLL this work for you you know. Sheesh, don't you care about your health?"

Gee bitch. DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT DOING YOUR DAMN JOB??? Have you seen the snarky ads from these people? Here, here's a good one:


Did you catch what I did?? That's right. In your snarky ads, you claim to find the dentist FOR ME. You have therefore failed your job, by not only trying to pass the mess along to the customer, but you did it with an insult and an attitude!!

1-800-DENTIST IS A SCAM!!!

Sunday, not a single dentist was open within 100 miles of my house. For serious??

Finally, Monday morning (today) Mama gets through to a live person at the Sears Dental, now Dentalworks.

She asks how much will the extraction be. All she's told is "don't worry about it."

Does that sound ominous as all hell to you? Good, I'm glad. Because it SHOULD.

So at the sign in, she keeps asking, how much will this be. "Don't worry about it."

Get her into a room. How much will it be? "Don't worry about it."

So she talks to a dentist, who has absolutely diddly shit to do with the extraction. In fact, we never see him again. He was polite and had great manners, but for the life of me I can't tell you who this was.

So we speak to the dentist/nurse she will be seeing. And then the actual Dentist. Both a friendly faces.

How much will this be?

No answer.

HOW MUCH WILL THIS BE??? I don't think we could have stressed enough that we're on a tight budget and she has no insurance. (Thanks asshats in the GOP for outsourcing her job overseas.)

Finally we see a woman with a ponytail. She changed her name several times in one conversation.

"Like hiiiiiiiiiiii! Like my name is Angela, and I'm with Dentalworks *muffled name* Credit care, M'kay? So like I need you to fill this out, and if like you have any questions, my name is Ashley. M'kay?"

What is this?

"Well like you know, we can pre-approve you for some credit and stuff. And if you have any questions, my name is Angel. M'kaaaaay?"

Shorten the story. Mama wasn't approved for whatever the hell this was. So she comes back as "Christina".

"Right, up front that will be $412. Cash or credit?"

I sat up straight. "I'm sorry WHAT??" Off go my sunglasses and i stare this woman in the face. "And why are you charging her this much? We don't have this kind of money lying around."

Well "Annie" broke the price down for me.


Exam: $79 including the emergency fee since (like UGH) you're a walk in.

Extraction and doctor's fee: $279

The rest of the price?? The right to have someone step in and say "Hello".


.... I swear to God that is the most expensive "Hello" I have EVER had in my life!!

So after clearing out a bank account, Mama has the operation. ... OPERATION??? Yeah, apparently that tooth was jammed up in there. I stayed for the entire procedure. I have no reason to trust anybody in the medical profession, especially not with my mom.

They shot her four times with Novocaine, and used some pretty ancient tools that I swear I've only seen in textbooks from the 1950's.

Mama could still fill the whole damn thing.

So they shot her twice more with the stuff.

NOPE! No good.

Oh, and anything stronger would have cost another $50. Problem being? The only other thing they had was "the gas", but they are prevented from using "the gas" anesthetic in Illinois, since the last few years it's made several children sick and a few of them died, and horridly I might add. O_O;;; Novocaine it is!!

So now, thanks to Dr. Ancient Tools and the not working Novocaine, she has a migraine that shoots through her eyeball.

As I was watching her squirm, I remembered a weird part in my life.

Before I was homeschooled, I remember being in a first grade class in Virginia. For career day, they had a fireman talk to us about escaping a burning building, a cop talk to us about child rape, guns, how a toy gun can be mistook for a real gun, stranger danger and drugs, some D.A.R.E. groupies talking to us about the environment and how drugs kill, and then we had a dentist.

The dentist played in a loop a ton of those old Dinosaur tooth ads. But the one I remember is one about losing an adult tooth:


"Get to a dentist in 30 minutes if you want to save your tooth."

Yeah, 30 minutes is not even the initial phone call. >_O If you follow this advice, you're screwed.

Yo Gabba MOM troll

Last year I learned that despite what a Google staffer named Lisa told me, you should never try to "talk things out" with those who harass you online via angry comments. As comedian Ron White says, you can't fix stupid.

Now Blogger does not have a "Block" or "Report" button as YouTube does. Why? Because some genius at Google decided that we need to learn to be friends with our attackers, and thus blocking is rude and needs to be stopped. (Google-Lisa told me this.) They don't seem to care that stalkers now have access to everything I post 100% of the time, but that's another story. Way to care about safety, Google!

So normally, when I see an angry comment on one of my Blogger posts, I simply mark them as spam and delete them. Seriously, if you feel the need to come onto an unpopular site like Blogger and trash me, then it's likely you have nothing important worth reading at all, and you really need to seek out a psychiatrist.

But today I saw a comment that I thought should be addressed.

... Because it came from a MOM.

And judging by her cadence, I don't think it's a teenage mother either. This is an adult.

Now that bothers me, and here's why.

When you are an adult, that means that you have had at least 18 years of life, in which you should have been taught to know better, either by a parent/legal guardian or by life itself. That's why I have zero sympathy for trolls over the age of 18. You know better. You have been taught better. You do not have an excuse.

And like I said, aggravating this is the fact that this is a MOM, meaning that she has procreated. There is now at least one Chibi-Her in the world, with only a 50/50 chance at not ending up like this.

This is not the first time I've had this happen either. Back in 2005 I had to add plenty of warnings and disclaimers to my Sailormoon based website Moon Sisters, because one specific mom trolled me for an entire month, threatening to "expose me" because I dared to post a "bad word" on my own website that I own and built. She didn't even notice the bright white warning stating that my site is not now nor has it ever been for children. Again, this was a MOM, well old enough to know better.

You are a MOM. Shouldn't you be tending to your kid(s) instead of trolling people online??
(Watch her try to say "I'm a GOOD mom" yadda yadda on the next comment. They always do.)

The issue this lady has with me stems from a blog I posted about Yo Gabba Gabba: http://codenamesailorearth.blogspot.com/2012/09/yo-gabba-gripes.html In case I haven't made myself clear, I DO NOT HATE YO GABBA GABBA. I just feel that considering it's content and fan base, there should be a version of the show for adults, instead of pitching it to preschoolers. On the blog, I provide plenty of food for thought on the show, and I did get plenty of positive emails from both parents and those who want to be parents.

Now I myself am not now nor have I ever been a parent. But that's no excuse not to keep up with these shows. I'm a cartoonist. We tend to keep tabs on what is and is not hot in the realm of TV. I want to be a mom someday. So of course I want to know ahead of time what's going on. Most people watch Nick and Nick Jr. long past the the age of 12, so don't act like it's a new fad.

Now here is her letter to me, broken down with my comments in bold font. I'm not posting her actual name or her Blogger profile, because that would be giving her way too much fame. So let's pretend her name is Linda.

From: Linda
To: Koriander/Codename Sailor Earth

I highly disagree with almost everything you have said. 
To each his own. I usually welcome creative critiques, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

First off, how is power rangers educational for children?? It shows violence all the time. Awesome. 
Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (the series I referred to) has several episodes where the Rangers learn about science and teamwork, things Yo Gabba Gabba also teaches. Also that season was littered with messages about how violence is not the answer, the show's violence is make-believe and that you should never EVER try this at home. Future seasons also have lessons about the environment, community and respecting others. Had you bothered to either watch a full episode or at least Google the series, you'd already know this.

And, im sure as an adult, you think about muno looking like a sex toy,
Yes, it's what all adults do. Why every morning at 7, I wake up and say to myself "Wow, Muno looks like a sex toy." And then I plot my entire day around Muno looking like a dildo, and how that effects my personal life. 

Are you insane?? What the hell are you implying there?! That is sexual harassment, lady (and I use that word loosely) and I do not like it!

but do you really think thats what going through a childs head? 
First of all, I'M sure that I'm has a capital I and an apostrophe in it.

Second, Muno should be capitalized, since Muno is his name. We capitalize the first letter in names, dear.
While I'm at it, "that's" and "child's" are missing their apostrophes as well. 

And third, if you listen to the crazed rantings of most parents, it doesn't matter if the child doesn't know that's a Dildo........

It matters that YOU DON'T SHOW A CHILD AN ADULT TOY!!

You said a TEENAGER said the comment about fufa, do you think a 3-4 year would think that? 
Aside from the teenager, a child I babysat while working at a School Supply store called her "Pink Poo-Poo girl". She was three and a half at the time. So yes, I do think a 3-4 year old would think something like that. Also, it's Foofa. If you're going to defend this show, at least take the time to learn how to spell their names.

You obviously dont have children yet. 
Wow, thank you for attacking me, based on that fact. You obviously do not know my situation, so why bother taking the fight there? Do you think that just because I don't open my legs and pop out a few random ankle biters that I'm somehow dumber than you? Lady, at least I know that there is an apostrophe in the word "don't".

This show is geared for ages 1-5. 
That's exactly why you SHOULD NOT EVER have characters that look like adult toys on the show!!

My daughter loves it. 
I'm not going to comment.

I dlnt mind it, 
"Dlnt" is not a word.

the music is catchy and always sends a good message. 
Yes, the music is catchy. I've been known to belt out "Hands to yourself" a few times, albeit not in the same way the Gabba gang intended. And outside of the message in the one episode I criticized, where they tried teaching children that "All stars are just planets and suns, there are no stars for real" I don't think I poked at the general message about friendship.

Whats so wrong with teaching children to be nice to someone even if they act different emotionally than everyone else? 
And you missed the entire point of the blog. You didn't actually read it all the way through, did you?

Some kids have depression, or autistic, 
Let me stop you there. You do not have "autistic" as in "I caught a cold and autistic". You should have said that "there are children who are autistic". Autism is nothing to play around with. That wording comes across a little too coy for my taste.

kids need to understand that sometimes you dont need a reason to be upset,
I think Dr. Joyce Brothers might have a word against your theory there.

but you dont treat those kids any different.
True, but by typing this, you just showed me that you didn't actually read the whole blog. The problem isn't the message of acceptance. I think that was made clear.

And the word is "differently". 

It's "You shouldn't treat them differently", NOT "you dont treat those kids any different". Suffixes are your friends, as are apostrophes.

And brobee does get upset easily, 
Yes, and it's "Brobee". Seriously, we have Google. There's no excuse.

but most kids get upset and throw tantrums over something little. 
The age group this is aimed at are TODDLERS. What do you think toddlers do?? How is that even close to an excuse for what I blogged about?

And jack black did amazing on the show!!
We capitalize the first letters of peoples' names. Jack Black. See how grown-up that looks? As for his episode, I did not criticize him. I criticized the network and show writers, who constantly bombard the pre and post episode commercial breaks with the typical "Follow us online" ad. Trust me. If a kid can figure out how to go online and follow Jack Black and the Gabba gang, they can figure out how to access Google, and find songs Jack Black has for real sang. Here, here's one of his songs that I bought the MP3 for:

He is very kid 
I have no clue what you just said to me. I don't even see a punctuation mark.

I want to say this again. "Linda" is an adult mother. Can you imagine how her kid is going to turn out?

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

They are trying to kill Punk's push.

In case you are wondering, NO this is NOT about the fan incident. In fact, this is all I will say on the matter:

Self Defense. There, that's that. Moving on.

Now if you recall, I gave up on WWE last year, and I gave up on regular television services last week. But of course, when you have friends in the wrestling world, you're going to hear about them, one way or another. You don't actually get to have a choice here, it just happens.

And if you followed me on MySpace, then you know I have an odd sense about things. I can feel when something is wrong, especially in the ring. Which takes me to last night.

The wiring in my house was nutty at 7:25 my time. So jokingly, I posted on Twitter:

"The lights flickered. Who did Punk slap?"

Right away I got 4 tweets back, with the same message.

"Vince McMahon"

Say what?

Now on paper, this seems like the set up to a simple match. Like Austin and McMahon, Hogan and McMahon or Bret Hart and McMahon, this should all boil down to a "beat your boss" match. It's SIMPLE. A child could book this.

Now mind you, I saw two backstage clips and of course, the match. And I couldn't help but notice that there was a constant theme.

Paul Heyman, telling people that this match was a BAD idea, and that it should NOT be happening.

If that is not a screeching, glaring warning to you, then I just can't help you. If I have learned anything at all, it's that if Paul doesn't have a good feeling about a match, heed the warning. I don't think I can be any more clear than that.

Well nobody is listening, so I know the match will actually happen. Despite the obvious, glaring warnings. Now if you follow me on Twitter, you will see that I played along. I tweeted to Punk to "Beat Vince like he owes you money" and I'm sure he saw the many times I did this, but I already saw a problem going into the match, outside of the blatant warning from Paul.

They turned Punk heel.

See, if you work at WWE, and you become popular, but it was NOT Vince's idea, or the idea of his approved elites, then he will do whatever it takes to KILL your push.

And this is something Punk will back me up on. I dare you to buy his DVD and actually watch the whole documentary portion.

Already discounted, and the set isn't even a week old yet?? Oh very nice, thanks for playing along with me, Vince!!

Punk himself has made it clear they have NEVER wanted him to "make it" and if you don't think they routinely take and then mis-book people from Ring of honor, just to keep them down, you are not paying attention.

Punk's DVD just came out. Punk is on the cover of the new video game.

But Punk is NOT what Vince wants.

And if you don't think Vince will drop a clear and obvious payday, just to keep somebody else down, I got two words for ya.

Stone Cold.

Go ahead. Google Stone Cold's career from 1998-2001. Tell me how many times they tried to de-push him, turn him heel in the middle of a merchandise boom, or otherwise make him look as stupid and goofy as possible. Trust me when I say Vince will do this again.

And he has.

So right at the head of another merchandise boom ~ before the holiday season starts I might add ~ Punk is turned Heel.

Vince last night has himself booked as a face.

Yeah, a 167 year old promoter who routinely screws up, and has even exploited his own kids is somehow the "good guy" and the guy who calls him out on it is the "bad guy". If that makes no sense to you, don't worry. The crowd didn't buy it either.

I look at the clock and ascertain that even with overtime, this match is too short. It will only be allotted a measly 15 minutes. but I figure "Okay, Punk will aim for the head and kill McMahon before then."

So amid chants for Punk, Vince walks down to the ring. Punk chases after him and starts to beat him like he is owed money. (See? I told you Punk got my tweet!)

Vince's head rams into the ring, and it looks like the beating will be as simple as Austin vs. McMahon was.

Brawl outside the ring, it looks like Punk will just KO McMahon, there's a slip up at the commentary booth.

The two go over the table, and Vince tries to stab Punk in the head with a microphone.

I lean forward, because I see Vince TRYING to give Punk a legit concussion, but thank God Punk put his wrists up in time.

I wonder where Chris Nowinski is?

Battle continues, it looks like Punk will be just fine and destroy the boss.

Vince grabs a kendo stick..... (ECW??)

.... And Punk stalls????

The match quickly goes to Hell.

Suddenly, Punk won't fight. He's motioning like he's ready to leave.

Vince walks up to Paul.

Paul is screaming "THIS MATCH WAS A BAD IDEA. THIS MATCH SHOULD NOT BE HAPPENING!!"

Vince slaps Paul.

Punk... stands there??? WHO BOOKED THIS???

Vince is back in the ring. And after I dunno, 100 years of stalling, Punk grabs a kendo stick of his own. There's back and forth. Vince falls. Punk tries to beat him Sandman style.

... And then stalls.

Then Ryback runs out.

Punk tries to leave.

Cena ~ Who is NOT medically cleared and had JUST bitched about WWE trying to make him work through injury AGAIN ~ pushes Punk into the ring.

Punk gets attacked.

Punk goes through the crowd.

Vince tells Punk "Next week, you need to make a pick. Either you fight Cena, Ryback, or I'LL pick FOR YOU."

Cena climbs into the ring, screaming at Vince. Not in a "I'm John Cena and I sound like a robot" way, but in a "Bitch!! Can't you see I be injured?? What part of no medical clearance did you miss??" kind of way.

Episode closes.

Paul is right. This match should not have happened. The timing was horrible, the stalling and extra people involved killed whatever magic this could have had, and right from the bell it was anti-climactic. Not only was this a feud squashed without warning, it's one that leaves much unresolved.

And worse? Any moron can see this sets Punk up to drop the belt as soon as possible, to either a man not medically cleared (oh that's a lawsuit begging to happen) or to a man with barely enough steam to carry him past November. (Ryback is not spelled "Goldberg". It's spelled J-A-C-K-S-W-A-G-G-E-R. Wait for it.)

The plan here is not to build Punk for any feud. They're killing his push. Assuming they let him loose and send him back to where he came from, Vince is banking on him being less of a draw for his competitors, than if he had just kept walking a year ago, after the Pipe Bomb incident.

Wait for it. I've been here before.

How Colt Cabana inspired me to be brave

I hope this story will inspire you the way I was. We all need a reminder that not everything in life needs a limit, and if you really want to make a change, you have to take chances.

It was April, 2009. I was excited. It had been two years ~ almost to the day ~ since I had last seen Colt Cabana, and I had my Fuji Film disposables ready. He had just come back from a tour of WWE's Mental System, and he was about to face one of my childhood favorites, Jerry Lynn.

Now before I left the house, I read my horoscope from Yahoo!. It read something akin to this:

"Don't make waves today, Scorpio. Tow the line and keep your head low."

So off I went to ROH. I was determined to get more than a few good shots, so I pleased and thank you'd my way through the crowd.

Right near the ramp were four guys, three of them really tall. The whole show long, they had no problems with me getting my entrance shots. "Let the little lady through, she wants her pic of Kevin Steen." they didn't really care.

... Until Colt's music hit.

The crowd was deafening and there were streamers everywhere. I tried to make it through the crowd, but was being hurled back by the large men in front, who were now reduced to screaming girls. "COLT CABANAAAAAAAAA!!!!" "OMG OMG COLT!!" Picture a sea of Brodus Clay, suddenly screaming and jumping up and down like girls at a boy band concert.

It didn't look like I would get a good enough shot. And I remembered my horoscope.

"Don't make waves. Tow the line."

And that's when it hit me.

Colt Cabana is in the ring.

Colt.

Colt makes a statement. He does what he feels should be done. He's not ordinary. Colt never tows the line.

... So why should I?

With all the gusto of a Mentos chomper, I did something that I'm not 100% proud of. Something I never did before and have never done since, and I usually advice people against it.

I walked over to the two men that hurled me backwards, took a chair, popped it open, climbed up onto one guy's shoulders, climbed to a second guy's shoulder, and took out my camera.

Now guy number two is moving back and forth, trying to get me off of him. He's threatening to hurl me back a second time. The first guy is amazed at my balance, and the third guy is yelling that a wrestling arena is no place for a "Little Lady".

"HOLD STILL DAMMIT! I want to get a good shot of Colt!"

Colt spots me in the crowd and waves.

That's when the fourth man SLAPS the second. "You stop that this instant!! The Little Lady knows COLT!! You stop that right now and let her take her damn picture. You let her take the picture!! Colt is watching US!!"


I'll tell you what. If I had listened to that horoscope, I never would have gotten such a great photo.

Colt's always reminded me to do my best. And he's always been a great model too!


Friday, October 5, 2012

Believe: Badd Bloodd 1997

This is one story I've struggled with accepting for 15 years. And maybe today is a good enough day to tell it.

Keep in mind, I'm not telling you this from the eyes of a 25 year old, this story is being told from the memory of a 10 year old me, on one of the darkest days in wrestling history.


15 years ago, the most believable heel in the whole wide world as far as I was concerned, was a man named Brian Pillman. He wasn't just another heel with a chip on his shoulder. He was cerebral. He could get into your head, and he was fantastic at blurring the line between reality and television. He made people believe that his story was as tangible as the screen you're reading this on.


He made me believe...


The week of Bad Blood, Pillman was right in the middle of may as well have been the feud of the century to me. He had just wrapped up a program with Stone Cold, and now he was going toe-to-toe each week with Goldust.


The prize? No, it wasn't a title belt or a trophy. The prize was Marlena, Goldust's then wife.


For weeks, this was the hottest thing on TV and everybody was talking about it. The only thing that could eclipse this story, was Shawn Michaels's upcoming beating from The Undertaker, in something called a Hell in a Cell match. But even then, the rumblings that 'Taker wasn't an only child did little to quell the gossip at the commentary booth from Jim Cornette, Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler, who even at the sight of Paul Bearer's teasing grin on the Titan Tron, couldn't get past the idea that Marlena "of all people" may have had a secret tryst with Pillman.


... Reading this part back as an adult, I can see now why this show must have angered many people. But remember, I'm writing this from my 10 year old self, and at the time, everyone was watching Jerry Springer.


(Note to those born after 1999: It was more sad and explosive than Honey Boo Boo.)


Each week, Pillman cheated in his matches. Pillman cut the most twisted promos, man this guy was on fire! Just look at the chemistry he had with Goldust:




Pillman took the right to have Marlena as his valet in a match against Goldust, and right up through the week of the Bad Blood PPV, Marlena had to be at his side.


Could Goldust get his chance to take her back at the PPV? Hell NO! For even though Goldust wanted her back, and she wanted to be back at his side, there was no time to book anything that could have carried this further.


Why? Because some "genius" decided to book Pillman against Dude Love... who like had no beef with him... and as I recall was a colorful and hip dude, who really didn't get himself mixed up into drama like this.


But I knew something had to happen. It just didn't make any sense to drop this entire story at "DERP WELP ladies and gents, Goldie don't get anudder shot, he done lost her fer guud." Goldust is a RHODES for crying out loud. And if there's a woman on the line, a Rhodes doesn't just give up and drop it. 


(Note for those born before 2005: Take a moment and Google Sapphire and Dusty Rhodes.)


Now come Sunday night, I'm on fire. I'm jumping on the carpet, trying to get the cable to pop back in, so I can watch Bad Blood. 


I had a trick. I would land on a PPV channel, and if there was a wrestling show I super wanted to see, I'd stand about 3 feet from the TV set, push the ▲ and ▼ butto

ns really fast, jump up and down and then wait. And if it worked, I could get about 20 minutes of the show, completely clear.

I'd keep this up in my room when I was a kid. I didn't have a credit card as a tot, but I wanted to see the shows. So this was the alternative.


Am I proud of it? Well no actually. I understand all that about pirating. But dammit I was broke, but I had to see Goldust get his revenge.


As the "Order your PPV now" screen started up, I pretty much knew every angle of where the set was going to be. (It's not far off from the Raw set. So I better.) I had about 5 different ways in my head that Goldust could slip in, surprise Pillman, and beat the hell out of him.


The commercial for the show was starting up for the 10,000th time. 


I watched Pillman's smug face graze the screen, laughing about his twisted plans for Marlena's tiny frame. 


...I'm getting pumped.


A second ad airs, reminding us that Undertaker had a match with HBK that night, for a new match called Hell in a Cell.


....I'm stoked.


An ad for some whiny drama movie plays.


....I don't care about that.


A general WWF commercial airs as I stomp the carpet, trying to keep the picture in.


There's Pillman, laughing again.


I'm on fire!

There's Pillman's face next to Dude Love.


I'm SO ready for this!!


The WWF graphic airs.


There's a hush in the arena.


I can hear the backstage crew getting ready.


I'm ready WWF!! Cue the music, I wanna see Pillman get his head knocked in, I wanna see Pillman get punched, I know where Goldust has to be hiding, let's have a fight on the ramp, let's start this show, bring Pillman out, I wanna see ---

Vince McMahon announces Brian Pillman's death by Wrestlegameshow

......... Pillman... died???

At that point, time stopped.

... Maybe it's a trick? Maybe it's a storyline. That's it! I'll shut my eyes, I'll count to three, and it'll be a dream.  A bad, bad dream.

.... 

That only took three seconds, but to me, it was hours. 

As Vince McMahon's voice got ever lower, his breath got quieter, and a graphic aired on the screen, I knew it was true. He's gone.

I fell backwards. All in a rush, I couldn't see the last week anymore.

All of a sudden, I remembered seeing a bright eyed and fluffy headed boy on a WCW rope, giggly and happy that at last, he was getting a tag title shot with his best friend, Stunning Steve. All the years of hard work, from the Indies to WCW was paying off, and the bell was just ringing. I remembered a loose cannon, roaming the halls of ECW, looking for his next fight. I remembered a madman holding a gun, firing at Stone Cold, but lastly, I remembered a man, covered in more than one belt, sitting at ringside, happy as could be.

All of these men were Pillman.

And Pillman is gone.

I cried on the couch for most of the PPV. I can't tell you who won what or why. I just grabbed my mom and sobbed.

"Mama.." I finally started. And I can't tell you how I said it, but I told the truth, I was terrified of myself. I had just thought all those things, and I wanted so badly to see him get his head kicked in by Goldust. But I didn't know he had died before I thought those things. Does this make me bad?

My mom stroked my hair. "He was a heel. It was his job to make people want to see the good guy kick his ass. And if you felt that way, then he did his job. If the fans believed in what he did, then somewhere, he's happy."

I barely understood that at the time. I knew this was a show, and this was his job, to be the "bad" guy. But still, I had grown up watching this man, was this how it was supposed to end? Were these to be my last memories?

Hour three was just about done, as was the second box of Kleenex I had gone through. 'Taker was beating the hell out of Shawn, and the show had just gone on. Pillman's absence was barely brought up again, and business was as usual.

A career, no. A life had ended just hours before. But the WWF carried on. I wasn't sure how to handle that.

I realized Shawn had passed out. The snoring had hit the camera mic, and there wasn't much more Taker could do without needing a police escort from the building.

Taking solace in a childhood favorite of mine, I rested my head on my knee, watching his boot graze over Shawn, one more time.

Suddenly, a fire broke out.

The ring turned crimson, and the cameras panned over to a large, red figure, walking slowly up the ramp.

Paul Bearer was smiling, everyone in the house sat up. There was no mistaking who this mystery man was.

"That's gotta be... THAT'S GOTTA BE KANE!!!" screamed Vince as the figure popped the cage door OFF it's hinges.

A slide in the ring, and a long gaze as the crowd noise produced a hush through the speakers.

Suddenly, Taker is tombstoned! And Shawn's sleeping body is dragged over his chest.

Fingers are pointed as the ref counts to three. Yelling and screaming is everywhere around the ring. Kane walks on the ramp like nothing ever happened.

"Oooooooooooooo!!!" Is a sound I hear from in front of me. A sound I hadn't heard before.

It's owner? My little brother, then five, who although had been exposed to wrestling since birth, never really paid any attention to it, until this exact point.

His eyes HUGE with wonder, he looks straight up at me.

"KANE!! KANE!! Kane wears red. Iiii wear red!! Kane sets things on fire, he's SO COOOOL!!"

A little hand grazes mine.

"Now Taker has a little brother like you've got ME!!" he says, beaming.

All at once, I saw something. A spark. Kane was now the talk of the town, and in my brother's eyes, I saw the same believe-ability that I just had.

The magic I guessed had been passed to another wrestler. Now it was Kane's time to build up his own legacy. To make others believe in his story.

My heart felt cold and mixed up that entire night, and I promised myself I wouldn't forget as long as I live.

I still haven't.

It's been 15 years now, and I can still hear it. I can hear the crowd, the commentary, the ref, I can hear each of those matches Pillman had like it happened last night. 

And after all these years, I can look back at the matches, and I feel that rush in my heart.

Pillman, you can still make me believe.

Thank you.