11/13: Odd Bounces, Pols; Two Angles For One Story
• Ever experience one of those moments when time seems to slow down or stand still? Many people tend to experience these sensations during a car accident or some other surreal event. Well, earlier today I went through such a feeling -- in the bathroom. I had just finished doing my business, and as I was getting myself adjusted to head out of the bathroom stall, my wedding ring slipped off my fingers. As the ring landed on the tile floor, it made a piercing “ping” sound and bounced back up several feet into the air. As I stood there dumbfounded I watched the ring spin in midair against a backdrop of a toilet in mid-flush. Fortunately for me, the ring was moving to the left. Had it been headed the other way, it would have landed in the flushing toilet, leaving me s.o.l. In those few seconds where I just stood there watching the ring take flight, everything seemed to move in slow motion. However, I knew that the moment I reached out, time would speed up by at least double. Sometimes you just have to thank your lucky stars fate didn’t bounce a certain way.
• For disappointed Republicans who are dreading the day Democrats re-take the Congress, keep this in mind. Had Cynthia McKinney not punched a police officer this year, there’s a good chance that she could have been a high-ranking member of the House of Representatives. Then again, I’m disappointed that she was defeated in her 2006 Democrat primary. After all, the person who is going to replace McKinney in the House of Representatives is just gong to be another Democrat politician. Cynthia McKinney was Cynthia Mcfreakin’Kinney. The conspiracy theories. The race-baiting. The hilarity. I, for one, am sad to see her go. But not to worry. There's always Maxine Waters, Sheila Jackson Lee, and that bitch who refuses to say the Pledge of Allegiance.
• I normally don’t talk about pro wrestling, but my local media had some feature stories about Kurt Angle yesterday. When I used to follow wrestling back in the mid- to late-1990s Angle was always a favorite of mine. Not only was he a great wrestler, but he was also extremely entertaining out of the ring. However, what I always found funny was that while many people applauded his mic skills, back in the mid-‘90s he was hired as a local television sports reporter after his olympic fame. His broadcasts were so bad that they were the stuff of legend in the Shittsburgh market. Even though he flopped as a “reporter,” I’m sure he learned enough from his time doing spots for Fox News (the local affiliate, not everybody’s favorite cable news channel), and I’m sure this experience helped him when he chose to become a pro wrestler. I haven’t kept up with Angle’s career over the last few years, but I hope he's making choices that will benefit his health. Sadly, I don’t think he is.
Here are the articles. First the Tribune-Review:
Grappling with addiction
he glare convinced Karen Angle that her husband was going to survive.
That glare -- the one that helped Kurt Angle intimidate opponents at Mt. Lebanon High School, at Clarion University, at the Olympic Games and for World Wrestling Entertainment -- told her everything she needed to know.
That glare was going to get Kurt Angle past a two-year addiction to painkillers.
"I was a junkie," said Kurt Angle, who was hooked on pain-killing pills such as Percocet, Vicodin, Norco and Lorcet. He popped as many as 65 pills a day.
Angle said he has been clean for more than a year, clean from drugs he thought he needed to pay the heavy toll caused by his livelihood.
Angle parted ways with WWE on Aug. 25 -- ending a relationship of nearly eight years that earned him millions of dollars and devoted fans.
He is now the centerpiece for Total Nonstop Action Wrestling, a fledgling organization attempting to challenge the domination of Vince McMahon's WWE empire. Angle's first TNA match will air on cable's Spike network toward the end of a two-hour broadcast that starts at 9 p.m. Thursday.
Last week, at his spacious home in Moon, a quick glance at his 4-year-old daughter, Kyra, and month-old son, Kody, provided all the inspiration Angle needed to stay sober. Yet continuing his career will mean pain. It is part of the job description.
"It tore my soul apart. I missed the first two years of my daughter's life," said Angle, 37.
"Painkillers are like heroin. When you get caught up in it, you start taking 10 or 20. I was up to 65 a day. I had to take 18 to get out of bed. I went to the pharmacy every other day. I found a way to get 10 different doctors to get my prescriptions. It worked out perfectly; every other day I got 120 pills. My first priority was to get to the pharmacy."
Angle's obsession with giving fans his best effort led to his addiction.
"Leave everything on the mat" is what Angle's best friend, Dave Schultz, the late amateur wrestling icon, had always preached.
Angle would do just that. To do it again the next night, his body needed some help.
"Call it stupidity or bravery ... I'm not going to rob the fans," said Angle. "People expect to see Kurt Angle, and they don't expect me to take it easy. I treat (professional wrestling) the same way as the Olympics. I don't know any other way."
Angle knew no other way during a match Aug. 13 against Rob Van Dam at an Extreme Championship Wrestling event -- a WWE subsidiary -- in White Plains, N.Y.
The first part of Angle's body to surrender was a groin muscle, which he pulled. Not a problem, really, as Angle had worked through similar predicaments previously.
Next, Angle said he detached an abdominal muscle from the pelvic bone. Slight problem, considering his core was now weakened. However, the crowd was into the match, and Angle did not wish to disappoint them by orchestrating a premature finish.
Finally, Angle blew out his hamstring. Big problem, as Angle could barely stand.
Still, he and Van Dam finished their match.
The crowd roared with approval.
Angle soaked in the sounds as he lay on the ring apron.
"I knew that was my last match (for WWE)," he said.
The man billed as "The Wrestling Machine" could not walk without assistance two days after the match. His leg was a sickening shade of black.
Angle's cell phone rang Aug. 15. On the line was an agent from the WWE. Angle was needed for another match.
Angle, via his personal manager, Dave Hawk, refused.
Following the match with Van Dam, an enlightened Angle knew there was no way he could step into a wrestling ring and perform up to his lofty expectations -- let alone meet those of his fans.
The pain would have proven too great. There would have been only one way to cope with such hurt.
"And I'm never going near those things again," said Angle. "I have too much at stake -- my wife, my children, my family, myself."
During one of many doctor-supervised drug rehab sessions at his home last year, Angle made some promises -- to his wife, to his children, to his mother, to his four brothers, to the memories of Schultz, his dead father and sister and to those within his inner circle.
Angle promised he would never again pop a painkiller.
On Aug. 15, those promises weighed heavily on Angle.
Ten days later, he spoke with McMahon at WWE headquarters. During the meeting, Angle said his former boss told him that "a gold medal and a cup of coffee don't mean (anything)."
Minutes before that comment, Angle said an agreement had been reached to part ways amicably.
Angle said McMahon agreed to pay him during his time away from the company and even offered to draw up a new contract when Angle's health returned.
"There were many reasons I wanted to leave," said Angle.
But he said McMahon's remarks left a wound that has yet to heal.
"I love Vince. He's a great guy. But he treated me like a superhero. He wanted me to rehab on the road instead of at home. My doctor said I couldn't do that. Vince said that I was an Olympic goal medalist and I could overcome anything. ...
"Then, one day, my Olympic medal didn't mean (anything)."
McMahon would not comment. He referred questions to attorney Jerry McDevitt, of the Pittsburgh-based law firm Kirkpatrick, Lockhart, Nicholson and Graham. McDevitt has served as outside general counsel to the WWE for 20 years.
"The WWE cares greatly about Kurt Angle the person and Kurt Angle the performer," McDevitt said. "It is our hope that he applies that huge and creative heart of his in the right direction so that we can all see that happen."
The WWE suspended Angle last summer after he failed a drug test that wrestlers are randomly subjected to under the company's wellness policy.
Angle said he failed the test because he was receiving cortisone shots in his neck. The pain was the result of four severe neck injuries he had suffered -- the first at the 1996 Olympic trials.
Dixie Carter, president of TNA, said she had "very honest conversations (with Angle) from the beginning" about the drug abuse.
According to Carter, TNA consulted with Angle's physicians about his injuries and addiction. Carter said TNA received clearances "on all levels" for Angle to compete.
"TNA has a strict drug policy and does not tolerate illegal drugs or substance abuse on any level," Carter said.
Angle's battles with addiction and against his industry's most powerful man -- McMahon -- have not cost him that famously intense glare.
Without it, a piece of him is missing -- just as a piece is missing from the gold medal that he won for freestyle wrestling in Atlanta at the 1996 Summer Olympics.
Sometime since then, during a speaking engagement at an area school, a 6-year-old flung that prized possession against a wall and chipped it.
Angle can appreciate the symbolism of his gold medal not being whole.
Until recently, neither was he.
"The gold medal is just a piece of gold," Angle said. "It's not what I did; it's just a symbol. Dave taught me that the gold medal is not me. Just like the character isn't me. It's not who I am."
Karen Angle never did buy into her husband's wrestling personna. If she had, Kurt Angle might not be helping to raise the couple's two children.
"You know he's serious when he gets that glare," Karen Angle said. "When he started looking at dealing with the problems with that glare, that's how I knew he was going to make it."
Kurt Angle credited his wife with "saving (his) life."
"There is no doubt in my mind that she is the reason I am still alive," he said. "She was trying to teach me things and get me help. I wouldn't listen."
Angle's bond with his wife is stronger than speculation that has surrounded the couple of almost eight years.
"All the rumors were untrue," Angle said. "I heard that I was getting a divorce because I beat her, that she was cheating on me, everything. It was ridiculous. We're fine."
Angle paused.
"I'm fine," he said. "I know a lot of people in Pittsburgh were worried. They thought Kurt Angle wasn't going to make it.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Intentionally or not, that glare returned.
Now the Shittsburgh Post-Gazette:
Addicted to the center of the ring: Ex-Olympian Angle says he's quit painkillers, but not what causes the pain
Nothing hurt this afternoon, and Kurt Angle looked downright unbreakable. Sitting at a table at Eat'n Park, only a Diet Coke in front of him, he folded his hands, fingers like Stonehenge, and let that famous growling tenor boom.
Listen to what he'd survived: seven years on the furious pro wrestling circuit, two major neck surgeries, fractured ribs, a broken hip, a left arm that he couldn't lift, a pinky finger that he still can't feel, 250 days on the road every year, ruthless stunts, anxiety, addiction and just about a life gone to ruin.
When Mr. Angle earned a wrestling gold medal in the Olympics in 1996, he'd never, by his own account, touched alcohol or marijuana or performance-enhancing drugs.
His subsequent entrance into professional wrestling, though, stirred up a pair of addictions. He learned he needed the spotlight and the adrenaline of the ring. He also learned that mind-bending amounts of Percocet, Norco and Vicodin allowed him to perform when his body begged otherwise.
So, as Mr. Angle, raised in Mt. Lebanon and now living in Coraopolis, sipped his soda on a recent Saturday afternoon, he talked about the two subjects that have dominated his life:
Painkillers. He hoped to never touch them again. He said he'd been free of them for 18 months. "But yes," he said, lowering his voice. "I still crave it. I want it right now."
Wrestling. He won't give it up.
Mr. Angle, 37, debuts Thursday on SpikeTV with Total Nonstop Action Wrestling, a 4-year-old company hoping to nudge Vince McMahon's WWE, with whom Mr. Angle cut his ties in August, from its stranglehold on the industry.
Best case, Mr. Angle, instantly TNA's most recognized wrestler, will tilt the balance of power, all while earning close to $1 million a year. Worst case, his body will further erode, but this time, it will happen in greater obscurity.
Mr. Angle wrestled for the last time with WWE at a sold-out arena in White Plains, N.Y. on Aug. 13. During the match, he said, he pulled his groin, but fans kept screaming for more, and he obliged them. Then he pulled his lower abdominal muscle straight off his pelvic bone. Still, he kept going. In the finishing moments, he blew out a hamstring. The fans roared, lusting for carnage. Mr. Angle couldn't rise to acknowledge the ovation.
The next day, almost incapacitated, he decided to quit the WWE. He traveled with his manager, Dave Hawk, to WWE headquarters in Stamford, Conn.
For the final time, by his account, he aired his grievances: The company's executives, he said, ignored his pleas for time off and undercut his efforts to dabble in acting.
Few wrestlers avoid the industry's toll. WWE star Eddie Guerrero, 38, at various times a drug and painkiller user, died a year ago in a Minneapolis hotel room. Brian Pillman, 35, died in 1997 of heart disease, again alone, again in a hotel room. Officials found an empty bottle of painkillers next to his body.
When Mr. Angle asked for his release from the WWE, he got it.
"I think it's because WWE was scared to death," said industry expert Dave Meltzer, publisher of the Wrestling Observer newsletter. "I think they were scared of another Eddie Guerrero."
Pills by the handful
Mr. Angle said he began taking painkillers three years ago after seriously injuring his neck. Family history told him to be careful. His father fought alcoholism during his life, and his sister would die in September 2004 of a heroin overdose. Still, his pill use snowballed, even as his wrestling performances remained steady, and often spectacular.
He needed the pills just to rise from bed. "Not just a handful," Mr. Angle said. "A large handful. I'm telling you, excruciating pain, all of the time. Cold sweats. I felt like a shell, like I didn't have a body or a soul. I was just a skeleton ... until I took those pills. About 18 [in the morning]. I'd lie there for five minutes with my eyes closed, and then it would kick in, and I could open my eyes again. Like, OK, I was ready to get up. That would carry me for about four hours."
The dependency allowed him a high, with waves of energy, surges of invincibility. His soreness numbed. Other things numbed, too. His family receded into the background, and his wife, Karen, temporarily left with their daughter.
"It was my fault," Mr. Angle said. "It was my abuse. It was me not caring about anything, not even myself. I was just doing my job, making a lot of money and thinking that was good enough for my family and that they should just shut up. I was happier on the road anyway, because nobody was there to stop me from taking my pills."
Mr. Angle wouldn't disclose the total number of pills he took every day, but he guessed the amount topped what anybody else in pro wrestling history had taken. He wrestled on the highs, sometimes collapsing by his hotel bed afterward, sobbing.
He often asked Mr. McMahon for time off but, according to his account which is disputed by the WWE, promised vacations often evaporated. He described one stretch during which three promised rest periods never occurred, undone each time by phone calls demanding he leave his couch and tough it up. Trips to Europe, then Connecticut, then Fresno, Calif.
Even when retelling the story, Mr. Angle became incredulous: "I was on my knees, begging for a month off!" he said, as nearby diners turned and looked. "Why? Because my neck was broken!"
After three months of separation from his wife and daughter, Mr. Angle sought help, he said. Friends and WWE officials expressed concern.
"Near death," Mr. Angle called it.
"I told him there was no way we'd work out [our marriage] unless he got through this," his wife said.
So he tried to quit the pills, he said, depending on the same trait that had led him to the Atlanta Olympics -- the ability to ignore logical human boundaries. He said his doctor suggested tapering the daily pill intake: 55, 40, 25 ... but he refused, demanding a cold turkey approach, though the doctor warned such a drastic change could kill him.
What happened, precisely, during the period Mr. Angle now refers to as rehab stirs debate. He says he never went to a clinic. He asked WWE officials for time off, he said, but they refused. Mr. McMahon, he said, ordered him to fight withdrawal while continuing to wrestle.
Jerry McDevitt, principal outside legal counsel for the WWE, said Mr. McMahon made no such demand. It was Mr. Angle's desire to compete, no matter what, that kept him in the ring, said Mr. McDevitt, a member of the Pittsburgh-based Kirkpatrick & Lockhart Nicholson Graham law firm.
"Every day," Mr. Angle said, "I was just uncomfortable the whole time. I felt like I had to go to the bathroom, but I didn't. I was cramping, sweating, head hurting. Every part of the body is aching. Skin is crawling. It hurts to touch. It hurts not to touch. It's impossible to get comfortable, just shaking all of the time."
Although he said he gave up painkillers last year, talk within the wrestling industry of Mr. Angle's problems resurfaced this summer following his 30-day suspension from the WWE.
Once Mr. Angle left the WWE for good, most wrestling followers figured his career was over. A letter he posted on his personal Web site suggested as much. He recounted his injuries, explained that life on the road can be a "living hell" and thanked his fans. God bless, he wrote, and then he signed his name at the bottom. WWE officials, Mr. McMahon included, hoped their old wrestler would use the break to recuperate, Mr. McDevitt said.
"The WWE has done everything it can to help Kurt and continues to be concerned about his wellbeing," Mr. McDevitt said. "I think Kurt needs to direct his tremendous competitive heart to solving his issues and getting them squared away."
A date with Samoa Joe
Mr. Angle promised his wife he'd take six months off, minimum. That way, he could spend time with Karen, their daughter, Kyra, almost 4, and their son Kody, born Oct. 26. But soon, offers of new jobs interrupted his plan. He thought about an opportunity with the Ultimate Fighting Championship and spoke with its president Dana White. Then he heard from TNA President Dixie Carter.
She said all the right things. He could spend less time on the road, performing roughly a half-dozen shows a month. He could use the exposure, perhaps, to find roles in movies or television shows. Plus, of course, he could wrestle.
"They basically said to us, 'We're a growing company that needs a great athlete,' " said Mr. Hawk, Mr. Angle's manager.
Highlights of Mr. Angle's TNA brawl with Samoa Joe, taped a month ago, have already become a YouTube sensation. Mr. Angle, at one point, head-butted his 290-pound opponent, leaving him with a wide open gash on his head. Later, he danced around the ring, wearing nothing but black tights emblazoned with a star. He knocked Samoa Joe to the mat, later falling down himself, the victim of a sneak attack as he preened for the crowd. Soon, the two behemoths rolled off the mat and scuffled near the carpeted arena entranceway, where security and refs separated them.
Fans chanted, "Angle! Angle! Angle!"
Mr. Angle said later, "I felt like I was home."
He'll know when to retire for good, he said recently. Just not yet. Others will watch the action, out of both fascination and fear.
"Everybody in wrestling puts their long-term health on the line," Mr. Meltzer said, "but he does it more so than everybody else. Others understand the point where they have to slow down. But with Kurt, I don't think he will ever slow down. He is going to be Kurt Angle until he is, maybe, incapacitated."
A few fans at Eat'n Park stopped by Mr. Angle's table, interrupting him as he told the story of his career's next chapter. He smiled and posed for pictures. One girl, a runner, told him about her Olympic hopes. Several asked about his wrestling career, or requested autographs. For one, he signed on a napkin.
Kurt Angle, he wrote.
Then, in all caps, he added two words below his name, TNA. SpikeTV, and handed the napkin back to the fan, asking him to watch.
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