Wednesday, June 27, 2007

No Disqualifications: The Loss of a Canadian Legend

Hey there all my hoochies, hotties and heaux. Miz Angell here with a special edition of No Disqualifications. I had every intention of writing a column ripping the WWE for the bizarre new storyline of the demise of Vince McMahon, and the lack of respect they showed the passing of legendary women's wrestler and valet extraordinaire, "Sensational" Sheri Martel.

But then I got the news yesterday.

Chris Benoit. Canadian wrestler. Icon. Legend. Gone.

I felt sick. I didn't know what to say. At the time I was told, cause of death hadn't been revealed, and I prayed that it was a home invasion gone wrong. I didn't want to believe what was floating around in the back of my mind. I respected this man for years - I couldn't even fathom that he would do something so heinous.

But he did. And he's left it for us as the last memory of him. I'm angry. I'm hurt. I'm disappointed. This will be as much a part of his legacy as his legendary career, and it's not something we want to remember.

But we will.

So I, like all other sports entertainment enthusiasts and sports writers (sorry to those who think I don't deserve the title), am left with a dilemma today. Do I celebrate the life and IN-RING career of one of the best that Canada had produced in our history, or do I write a scathing social commentary on the sin of murder and suicide, and ignore everything he meant to the industry, to his friends, and to us, the fans.

I remember the last time I saw Benoit wrestle live. The WWE was in Toronto a few weeks ago, and the audience was treated to a taping of Saturday Night's Main Event. Benoit was teaming with Batista against MVP & Edge. It was a hell of a match with the audience going crazy whenever Edge or Benoit was in the ring. He was in fine form. I just sat back in awe, as not even my amazing seats at Wrestlemania afforded me the view I had at this event. It was poetry in motion to watch as Benoit went up to the top rope, and thousands of cameras flashed as he flew and landed his patented lethal head butt for the win. I wish I had realized that it would be the last time I would have that opportunity. I might have gone against the rules and taken pictures. I might have enjoyed it just a little more. I might have watched him on the apron instead of the action in the ring. I would have clapped a little harder, cheered a little louder. As a fan, I have to ask - did he know he was appreciated? Did he KNOW he was a legend? Did he know how much we loved and admired him?

That, we'll never know.

I could parrot the other sites, who have put up his career stats, his accomplishments, and his life as a whole. But anyone can write those up - all you need to do is research.

I've decided I'm going to let my readers have their say. What is YOUR favourite memory of the Canadian Crippler? How long were you a fan? Did you ever get to meet him? This is a call to arms people. For a moment, albeit a brief one, forget how he ended. Let's remember the man for how he began, for how he lived. Send me your stories, your memories.

Maybe then, we can find some solace, some comfort, in this horrific tragedy. We can never hope to make sense of it. I doubt those closest to him knew he was in pain. I doubt they read this column, but if they do, there was nothing you could do. If he wanted help, he had to ask. No one's a mind reader. You couldn't have known.

So, as my final words today, I am sending my condolences and love to his family and friends in this tragic time. I hope the souls of Nancy and Daniel can rest in peace. And I hope that Chris found his peace at last, wherever his soul may be.

Until next week......

© 2007 - reprinted by the author (originally posted at

Stay sane inside insanity ~ and never forget your towel.

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With love and pride