geniusMoment

I am getting ready to go over to my girlfriends grandparents house for Thanksgiving. What sucks is now my family is upset that I am not going to their Thanksgiving, so they have made a second mini get together on Saturday. Thats 2 fucking Thanksgivings I have to go to. What bullshit. I fucking hate the goddamn pilgrims.

<{POST_SNAPBACK}> There is a difference between muscle gained, and losing weight to expose muscle. I thought people would be smart enough to know the difference. I am sorry you are a moron.

I do not like much muscle on girls, to me it makes them seem manly. I love a girl with a very tight waist, it is very hard for a girl to get that ripped abs look, that is what I like on girls. As for my girlfriend, well, since we workout together a lot of the time I can tell you for a fact the last time she was on the scale she weighed almost 132. That is with a 34 C chest, so I do not get where you are coming from in saying I am a moron to think that is how I want my girl to look. I think she looks beautiful. Some guys like that chub around a girl's waist, I do not.

I am not being sarcastic. I think 119-124 is a good weight on a girl 5'6". The girl I am currently seeing is 5'8" 130, which is good for a girl that height. Just as a note though, being in exceptional shape is very important to me. I work out 3-4 hours a day 5 days a week during the offseason, and during baseball season I work out everyday. I expect any girl I go out with to be in as good as shape as I am. To me, that is fair.

Bullshit. No way should a girl that height weigh that much. Anything over 130 for a girl that size is just flat out fat. Starve yourself, run constantly, or go blow your lunch in the bathroom, just lose that weight. A girl that height, with a decent chest, should weigh 119.

That's not what you said last night.

I will make a list of the ladies: On the juice big time: Victoria Hemme Melina Laree Trish Torrie Stacy Lillian Downhome Okay, so my list was just another excuse to make a Downhome has a vagina joke. You got me..............Playa!

I do not find the plight of sillyNigger, sillyNegro or WorldsGreatestGook funny. Perhaps you get you jollies out of seeing three fine minorities being abused. Is that it, you sick freak? I fail to see any reason why any of those posters were banned. No one can point to any evidence that would justify their banning, as there is none.

The problem is this board is extremely racist. I know for a fact that during this week alone WorldsGreatestGook, SillyNigger and SillyNegro have all been banned. Thats three minorities banned, conspiracy, you tell me. It seems as if our mods should have pictures of hoods in their sigs. I was going to tell my close personal friend NegroMcBlackson to register here, but I am sure that he would be banned by all the other racists running this board.

I do not like TNA at all. Basically, they do not have any storylines, let alone creative ones. Their show is way too fast paced, nothing ever sinks in, it just gets annoying. Their wrestlers have zero personality outside of Joe, Daniels and JJ's bad HHH personality. The whole show is way too over-produced, it feels antiseptic, not gritty like a wrestling show should. I feel like I am watching Battlebowl not an actual wrestling show. They need to move into bigger arenas, and change the set, along with the booking. They need to stop pushing everybody, and start pushing 3-4 people (not jj).

No way, this is the final thought, actually it is a queston. If you had a bowl, and in that bowl you had a red apple, a green apple and a banana which would you eat first, second and third? And no one better say bowl. I will tell the correct answer if anyone gets it right.

There is a top wrestler in WWE today who is considered to be on the unofficial death watch, whose death, due to his credentials, would make the considerable news coverage of Eddie Guerrero's death this week look minor by comparison. It's no secret to most within WWE; if it's not known by Vince McMahon, someone needs to tell him the system needs to be changed. It's one thing to show how much you care about a colleague by crying on the air after he dies. It's another to care enough about someone to do what it takes while he's alive to keep him from dying - even at the expense of box office receipts, storyline interruptions, and being deemed pushy, nosy, or a nark. This is from the latest torch. Let the guessing begin.

Wrestling with Bam Bam Life spun out of control for Scott "Bam Bam" Bigelow one day on his motorcycle in Hernando County. Now, if only the noted wrestler could regain control. By MICHAEL KRUSE Published November 17, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [Times photo: Janel Schroeder-Norton] Scott Bigelow and his girlfriend, Janis Remiesiewicz, at her home in Port Richey. They are helping each other recover from the motorcycle crash that had left Remiesiewicz in critical condition. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [Photo: World Wrestling Entertainment] The 6-4 Bam Bam Bigelow weighed as much as 425 pounds yet was agile enough to jump off the ring ropes onto his opponents. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bam Bam Bigelow skidded off the motorcycle and onto the hard wet asphalt on State Road 50 one Sunday in early October on the west side of Hernando County. The woman who had been on the back of his bike hit the pavement with a sound one witness said was like an open palm slapping the surface of water. Then she flopped around like a rolled-up rug. Bam Bam landed about 50 feet up the road. The former professional wrestler with the tattooed scalp and the name no one can forget was covered in blood, but he managed to get up. He held his scraped-up arms straight out from his sides. He lurched back toward the woman, who was moaning. He looked like a monster, the witness said later. "Oh, baby," Bam Bam was saying. "I'm so sorry." He collapsed almost on top of the woman. His body was touching hers. His head was by her head. * * * The man who used to wrestle people to the ground and jump on them and pick them up and throw them was powerless. For almost all athletes, there is the inevitability of a life after people stop cheering. For Bam Bam Bigelow, the story includes addiction to painkillers, time in rehab, calls from creditors, a costly divorce, three kids he hasn't seen in more than a year and child support not paid. And a new love. The woman on the bike was Janis Remiesiewicz, who's 41, has a house in Port Richey and has been dating Bam Bam for a year. The name state troopers got off Bam Bam's license was Scott C. Bigelow, 44, with an address in New Jersey. But the last address for Bigelow in public records was in Lake Ariel, Pa., and that ended this past April. It was on a road called the Hideout. Men who weigh more than 300 pounds, have tattooed heads and answer to Bam Bam do not just disappear. Unless they want to. On Oct. 2, though, Bam Bam Bigelow was taken to Spring Hill's Oak Hill Hospital. Janis was flown to Tampa General and listed in critical condition. Meanwhile, the woman who lives in Bam Bam's old house in Allenhurst, N.J., has to deal with the guys who keep looking for the previous owner. "They pull up in front of the house and they stare at the house," Josephine Schror said over the phone. "Then they knock on the door and ask for Scott, and I tell them he doesn't live here no more. And they ask me if I know where he is and then they sit in the car and write s--- down and then they drive off." She says this happens all the time. * * * The e-mails started coming almost immediately after the story about the crash ran in the St. Petersburg Times. Wrestling fans wanted to know two things: How is Bam Bam doing? And where has he been? Bam Bam Bigelow was huge. The 6-4 tough guy from small, rough Asbury Park, N.J., wrestled as heavy as 425 pounds. But he was agile enough to jump off the tops of the ropes and down onto his opponents in the ring. His trademark move was a pile driver he called "Greetings from Asbury Park." "It just blows a guy's head right off his shoulders," he once told the Seattle Times. Bigelow played the role of the "heel" in his heyday. That means he was the bad guy in the staged matches. But he was a star. He made his debut in the World Wrestling Federation in 1987 and won titles in Extreme Championship Wrestling and World Championship Wrestling. He wrestled with Hulk Hogan and Diamond Dallas Page and against Andre the Giant. He was in the headliner match at 1995's WrestleMania in front of more than 16,000 people. He was even in a couple of B movies and did a commercial for Slim Jim. But his wrestling career did not come to an easy end. WCW folded in 2001. He didn't go to WWE. There was no ECW anymore. Bam Bam had back problems. He had surgery. He went on a radio show in early 2002, according to 1wrestling.com, and said his career was not over and that this was "just the beginning." According to www.obsessedwithwrestling.com and other pro wrestling Web sites, Bam Bam retired in November 2002 and unretired a month after that, only to lose to someone named Abdullah the Butcher, then quit for good in 2004 - ending a slow, reluctant fade from fame. "It's kind of like Hollywood," said Ron Jordan, who writes a syndicated wrestling column from Fort Worth, Texas. "Only so many people can be on top at one time. Most of these guys, when they slip from the big leagues, like the WCW or the WWF or the new WWE, they just kind of slip into obscurity. Then they show up in some small arena or at a YMCA or something." Bam Bam opened a deli in Hamlin, Pa., where he sold a 2-pound hamburger. That didn't last. Anthony DeBlasi, who writes for Wrestling-News.com, said in an e-mail that Bam Bam contacted him early in 2004 asking for help selling a wrestling ring and some of his other mementos on eBay. Frank Goodman, Bam Bam's agent, also got a call: "Scott said, "Listen, I need to make money again.' " Bam Bam wrestled in small shows on New York's Long Island in the early and middle parts of 2004. Then he started missing shows, according to Goodman. The last time he wrestled was Nov. 19, 2004. And then he disappeared. "Nobody could find him," said Dave Meltzer, editor of Wrestling Observer. One of his best friends in wrestling died in April. Bam Bam didn't show up at the funeral. A wrestling fan spotted him in Tampa over the summer, took a picture and posted it on the Web. "That's the only way we knew he was alive," Goodman said. Then Bam Bam Bigelow left Hernando County's Bayport Inn with his girlfriend on the back of his brother's 1998 black-and-chrome Harley Davidson and headed toward SR 50. * * * He stopped at the intersection of U.S. 19. The light turned green and he sped off, then stopped again at Deltona Boulevard. Both times, according to a witness, Debby Tessier of Brooksville, he almost tipped over. Tessier had her cell phone out and was dialing 911 before the bike even went down. It happened about 4:30 p.m., according to the report from the Florida Highway Patrol, when Bam Bam tried to change from the outside lane to the inside. Bam Bam and Janis weren't wearing helmets. No other vehicles were involved. The Harley hit the ground. Eventually they did too. Janis came to a stop on her stomach with her arms by her sides. She was wearing a tank top and denim short shorts. "The skin on her face was just chewed up," Tessier said. "Her noise and mouth were just pouring blood. . . . "We thought she was dead." The FHP is waiting for the results of Bam Bam's blood test to come back from the toxicology lab in Tallahassee. "We are well aware of what the factors were that led to this crash," FHP spokesman Larry Coggins said. The FHP has up to a year to file charges against Scott C. Bigelow. "Charges are forthcoming," Coggins said. "Absolutely." * * * The accident threw Bam Bam back into the public eye. Any attempt at anonymity was over. Calls started to come along with the e-mails. Bam Bam's ex-wife, Dana Fisher, returned a call from the St. Petersburg Times a few days after the accident. She and Bigelow divorced five years ago, and their oldest child is now 17. "I always figured it would come back on him sooner or later and that he'd have to answer questions and be accountable," she said. Court records in New Jersey show a charge of endangering the welfare of a child in May 2004. He was accused of driving recklessly with one of his children in the car, but he said it was because of a seizure. The charge was dismissed two months later. There is a possession of marijuana charge from August 2004. Guilty. In the last few years, he has been sued by Jersey Shore Anesthesia, Jersey Shore University Medical Center and the state's Department of Motor Vehicles. The judgment amounts range from $2,700 to $19,440. The cases are open. Fisher has sued him three times this year for nonpayment of child support. Bam Bam owes $8,909. "He did pay something this year, but he's not paying like he should," said Monmouth County probation officer Charlotte Shaw. "If he was here, I'd do a bench warrant." Goodman, Bam Bam's agent, talked last month about how his client still could make $800 to $1,000 a night. "He is money in the bank," Goodman said. "He is a wrestling legend. Other than Andre the Giant and Hulk Hogan, he is the best 300-pound-plus wrestler to ever step in a wrestling ring. I've got to tell you something: I have a show next month, and I would put Bam Bam Bigelow in that show for $1,000 without even giving it a thought. "Because he's Bam Bam Bigelow." * * * Bam Bam has had it with Bam Bam. He just wants to be Scott. Those records up in Jersey aren't the only reason he wanted to disappear. He didn't want to talk at first. He didn't want to talk when he was in the hospital. He didn't want to talk when he got home. On a recent Sunday, though, he was sitting on a couch in Janis' house in Port Richey. A black Nike ball cap covered the tattoos on the top of his scalp. "I don't know if it's hiding or disappointment or what," he said. "But being Bam Bam Bigelow is a pain in the a--. "You did this the first half of your life and now this is the second half and now you're bruised and battered. So what the hell can you do? What can you do?" Scott C. Bigelow has no real permanent address. He sometimes stays with his brother, Todd, who's one year older, at his home in Spring Hill, but most of the time he's in Port Richey. "He goes back and forth," Todd Bigelow said. In his best years, according to him and his agent, he was making anywhere from $750,000 to $1.2-million. He lost everything, he says, in his divorce: cars, trucks, motorcycles, his house. Now he lives on Social Security disability. Creditors call. The child support isn't going away. Medical bills are coming. "You can't pay what you can't afford," he said. When he talks about Janis - "a bright spot in my life" - Bam Bam's lower lip turns soft. "Both of us should've been dead from this accident," he said. "Not should've been," Janis said. "Could've been." "I had a few beers that day," he said. "But it wasn't nothing exceeding what people go overboard with. Who knows? It's all a blur. It doesn't matter. It happened." Bam Bam broke his nose and got a deep cut on his forehead and still has a gash in his leg and scabs on his elbows and knees. Janis has a broken foot and a nasty scar around her right eye. He creaks. He gets up slowly. He says he was addicted to OxyContin for most of his career in wrestling but that he is now clean. He says he came down here because the warm weather makes his aches and pains feel a little less sharp. He says he wanted to get away. Most of his friends are dead. Ted "Flyboy Rocco Rock" Petty died of a heart attack in 2002. Jerry "the Wall" Tuite died of a drug overdose in 2003. Chris Candido died in spring of a blood clot after he broke his leg wrestling in Japan. "And it's all due to wrestling," he said. "It's that simple. With me there's no glory in wrestling. . .. I thought out of sight, out of mind would be the best thing for me." Yet he said on this particular Sunday - five weeks to the day after the accident - that he's happier now than he has ever been. "It's like two phases of life," he said, sitting on the couch next to Janis, holding her hand. "The man who had everything and was miserable. And the man who has nothing and is happy. "It don't cost nothin' to go watch the sunset," he said. That's what Bam Bam Bigelow keeps telling himself.

Actually, you are the problem more than the torch. You just turn a blind eye, and except the fact that this is a major problem. In his recent audio update Keller talked about how "deathwatch" is a common term within the industry. Would it be better to just ignore the story. Then next time, we can have another emotional special, where all of this wrestlers "friends" cry. The same "friends" who are too chickenshit to do anything when it matters, which is when the wrestler is still alive.

This is fucking bullshit. No one here wished me a happy birthday, granted I do not have my birthday as part of my information. But that is still not a good fucking excuse.

That's just great, now what am I going to do for fun tonight?

I am just waiting for SillyNigger to post in this thread.

That's a damn nice room. I wish my room looked like that.

I've noticed you always confuse "has" and "as." Simple mistake to make, if you're developmentally disabled. <{POST_SNAPBACK}> I'm just a lazy dumbass. <{POST_SNAPBACK}> By the way, being a lazy dumbass is a developmental disability. <{POST_SNAPBACK}> At least he can get those sweet parking spots.

You guys are reading this out of context, it was not reported as news, but rather as part of a 5 page essay on Eddy that Wade Keller wrote. In it he discusses Eddy's career, and the potential problems which led to his death, and the ramifications on the industry as a whole. In the ramifications part he wrote the paragraph I posted. I would post the entire article, but its very long, and I doubt many would want to read the entire thing.

kinky

I have a theory that Banky is actually every poster on here, including myself, I just haven't figured out how to prove it yet. I am tired now, but tomorrow I plan on figuring all this out.

"Born to the Ring" By Bruce Mitchell, Torch columnist Originally published November 19, 2005 Pro Wrestling Torch Weekly newsletter #887 "He always amazed me because he was in such pain, but when he went through that curtain the pain went away." -Batista - Raw 11/14/05 Eddie Guerrero should have been a natural. After all, he was born to the ring. His father, Gory Guerrero, was one of Mexico's top stars and most respected workers. His brother Chavo was the top babyface star in Los Angeles when Eddie was growing up. His other brothers Mando and Hector (who Eddie resembled so) wrestled a style that incorporated both lucha and mainstream in the '80s and was years ahead of its time. As a kid Eddie got so much instruction and practice in the Guerrero family backyard ring that when he and his nephew Chavo would climb into a real one during intermission at his father's El Paso shows, fans would stay in their seats rather than miss the action. Then there was his natural instinct for how to put together a chain of moves, of when to do what and when not to do anything at all, and the natural charisma that demanded fans pay attention. Eddie Guerrero had an acting talent that went beyond the typical big gesture overacting even the best wrestling performers relied on. Eddie could stop a match or a skit with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. He could make you believe he was a low life's low-life or he was the most fun you'd ever have or a serious athlete on the cusp of a major championship. Just as important, he also had the resume. Eddie Guerrero got his Pro Wrestling Ph.D. touring the world and mastering the styles of the three wrestling countries: Mexico, Japan, and the United States. He was half of a Mexican box office sensation in the legendary Los Gringo Locos tag team with the late Art Barr. He worked as Black Tiger in Japan against the Pegasus Kid (Chris Benoit) a program that started a professional and personal friendship that would raise in ring standards around the world that would end in one's death and the other, considered the toughest man in the sport, breaking down on national television in a moment so personal it should never have aired. But that's getting ahead of the story, and past the happy ending. Eddie Guerrero should have been a natural. But he wasn't. Eddie Guerrero was too small, too short, too thin to be a star in the U.S. Well, that's not true. Eddie Guerrero was too small to just get a job, at least with either of the two national wrestling companies, WCW or the WWF. No matter what else Eddie Guerrero brought to the craft, he wasn't even going to get the opportunity in that era's wrestling world. You see, Vince McMahon had a vision of what a professional wrestler should be. Hulk Hogan and The Road Warriors personified that vision. The fans ratified it. Eddie Guerrero didn't come close. It's not every wrestler that I know exactly where and when I saw him for the first time, but I sure know where and when I first saw Eddie Guerrero. Terry Funk, who had just put Ric Flair through a table to start their legendary feud, brought Eddie to WCW Saturday Night as his handpicked opponent. He wanted Guerrero for his ability to sell and take his signature piledriver. Eddie did a great job in the role. He was something different and even then he had that Eddie energy. For his stellar work that day he got about two hundred bucks and a ticket home. He did a great job, he had a ton of talent, but he was too small. So Eddie, like his father Gory, went to Mexico to make his name. Before the Mexican economy collapsed in the mid-'90s, the lucha libre business was strong and it was the Chicano baiting Los Gringos Locos team that drove fans crazy. Business was so good that promoter Antonio Pena brought his AAA promotion to the L.A. Coliseum and turned away thousands in an era when WCW and the WWF were happy to draw two thousand disinterested fans to their lackluster house shows. There was so much money in this new audience the two companies had ignored for so long that WCW agreed to run an off-brand pay-per-view featuring the top Hispanic stars just as an experiment. That pay-per-view was the still remembered When Worlds Collide Show in 1994, a show well ahead of the ones the Big Two put on in both work rate and critical acclaim. The main event may have featured famous soap opera star Konnan in a rare singles steel cage match with legend Perro Aguayo, but the heart and soul of the show was Octagon & El Hijo del Santo vs. Los Gringos Locos in a double mask vs. hair match. Eddie Guerrero and The Love Machine Art Barr taunted the Hispanic crowd, "swimming" on their backs, beating up their heroes, arrogantly forcing fans to believe that the unthinkable was about to occur, that the son of their national hero El Santo would lose his mask and fifty years of tradition would come to an ignoble end before their eyes. It remains one of the most dramatic matches of the last twenty years. Art Barr and Eddie Guerrero lost the match and their mullets, but for all they lost they had stolen a show that was almost impossible to steal. Guerrero and Barr worked so hard and so well because they knew both WCW and WWE were watching and they saw this as the ultimate try out. It was more than that, and less. It was Art Barr's last match. Barr died two weeks later (in similar circumstances to Guerrero), eleven years ago this month. Critics may have loved the match and salivated at the possibilities of a team that could get that much heat and wrestle at that level working on the bigger stage but, well, Los Gringos Locos were too small. The only wrestler to get a job (as a curtain jerker) out of When Worlds Collide for either of the two companies was Madonna's Boyfriend (the late Louie Spicolli, who died in similar circumstances as Guerrero). The only thing memorable about Madonna's Boyfriend was his jacket, which had "Madonna's Boyfriend" printed on the back. Well, that and Spicolli had recently put on a lot of muscle in a short time. So Eddie Guerrero, like Chris Benoit, like Chris Jericho, like Dean Malenko, had to ply his trade overseas. Paul Heyman gave Guerrero and his peers a few shots and Guerrero again made a real impression on everyone watching, but the money wasn't there. Tape traders may have loved Guerrero and Benoit, but most wrestling fans had no idea who they were. The day came, though, when a hungry, ambitious Eric Bischoff attended Antonio Inoki's Wrestle Peace Festival in L.A. and saw the action cruiserweights could bring to his three hour Nitro show. Bischoff may not have taken the likes of Guerrero, Benoit, Chris Jericho, and Rey Mysterio Jr. seriously as ticket selling main eventers, but he was more than willing to let them add much needed action to shows that featured the aging likes of Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage, The Outsiders, and Ric Flair. For Eddie Guerrero, it was the break he'd been waiting for and the continuation of an unnatural progression, because no matter how good he was in the ring, no matter how fans reacted to his grinning and sneering, the talk in the WCW locker room (and it was Hulk Hogan's locker room) was he was too small. So Eddie Guerrero did what it took to get bigger. It's easy to forget after watching him and all his peers who made their calling card their work ability and not their size for all those years, but Eddie Guerrero carried much more muscle mass than his frame was naturally built to carry. Watch Eddie Guerrero on the big screen television against the other wrestlers and he looked like just a guy who trained hard and was in great shape. See him in the locker room or away from the ring, though, and his unnatural muscularity, the way his skin seemed like it was about to pop like an overcooked sausage, was disturbing, even when he looked like all the other wrestlers. He felt compelled to look like that, even if it was never enough, and that alone was going to take its toll over the years. Compounding that was the talent and desire that made Guerrero push himself beyond his physical limits in the ring year after year, month after month, night after night. He knew he better have the best match on the card or darn close if he was ever going to receive the break that was even bigger than the one he got when WCW let him in the back door, the break that would put him in the main event. That hornet's nest of drug dependency was stirred even further by a family history of addiction, specifically alcoholism. Eddie's bother Chavo Sr. flamed out of a lucrative WWE job Eddie got him when he went on a bender in the middle of a tour, which was no real surprise to anyone who remembered when he used to do the same thing when he was on top in Los Angeles all those years ago. Eddie had the same disease, one that makes a pill dependency that much more dangerous. The now-famous four years of sobriety may be in reference to Eddie's alcoholism, since it's hard to fathom how a 38 year old man with twenty years of ring time who wrestled that style that often, who, as Batista put it, was in pain until he hit the curtain, did it completely straight. Guerrero wanted the main event, he wanted his family to have the financial rewards that came with it, and he paid the enormous price to get them. The skinny kid Terry Funk crunched on Center Stage became WWE Champion, even more rare and valuable in the wrestling business, a real, certified draw who could bring in fans no other performer could and celebrated his title along with his great friend and greatest peer Chris Benoit in one of the most memorable moments in WrestleMania history. That title win is the point where the Eddie Guerrero career retrospective DVD "Cheating Death, Stealing Life" ends and if it's true that every happy ending is only part of the story, Guerrero felt a tremendous amount of pain along the way. Every one reading this knows his story, how the number of pills to sleep through the pain the ring and his opponents inflicted naturally accelerated, how the recreational drugs did the same, how Eddie had to keep traveling, working and taking drugs - the cycle of the road, until a night in Minneapolis came when even his friends couldn't watch anymore, the car accident that should have killed him (like Brian Pillman, who died under similar circumstances), the firing, the breakup of his family, the long road back, the temporary redemption... (Which story was seamlessly folded into WWE's marketing of Latino Heat Eddie Guerrero I Lie, I Cheat, I Steal, Viva La Raza much like Hawk's story (who died under similar circumstances to Guerrero) was seamlessly folded into the marketing of the Road Warrior retrospective DVD and the New Legion of Doom revival and crackhead Jake "The Snake" Robert's lies were seamlessly folded into the Pick Your Poison (Jesus, what a name) DVD, which ends with Vince McMahon proclaiming that for Jake, "the best is yet to come." Jake celebrated that public endorsement in appropriate fashion by no-showing his next appearance, much like Eddie Guerrero's death and everyone's grief was seamlessly folded into the week's Raw and Smackdown shows within twelve hours of the news by a crack production crew that knew what to do through hard-earned practice.) It's a deadly pattern, one that has repeated itself again again, from Rick Rude (who died under similar circumstances to Guerrero), to Curt Hennig (who died under similar circumstances to Guerrero), to Hercules Hernandez (who died under similar circumstances to Guerrero), to the Big Bossman (who died under similar circumstances to Guerrero), to Crash Holly (who died under similar circumstances to Guerrero), to Chris Candido (who died under similar circumstances to Guerrero), to Davey Boy Smith (who died under similar circumstances to Guerrero), to Scott Hall (who just got out of jail). Guerrero's championship reality, like many dreams come true, wasn't quite what Eddie had hoped. He was expected to carry the Smackdown brand, and despite the fact he was drawing Hispanic fans, particularly in the Southwest, the rest of what it takes to make a wrestling company work just wasn't in place. Guerrero took that failure as his own and wanted to be removed as champion. He chose to turn heel, even when most fans loved it when he acted up (and like Ric Flair and Steve Austin before him, it didn't take), so he could work with his close friend Rey Mysterio (who also carries an enormous amount of extra muscle for his frame). His acting and psychology were so powerful in the storyline where he stole back his illegitimate child from Mysterio (another seamless folding) that not only did fans look beyond the ridiculousness of the whole mess but no one much noticed that the other goal of the change, having a series of great matches, never gelled. Guerrero knew that he no longer had the stamina to keep up with the likes of Kurt Angle. When he worked with him, he had to cut down the length of their matches. As a result, he wanted to work with someone he was ultimately comfortable with in the ring,. But it didn't work. No one noticed, that is, except Eddie. The Fate of Dominick may have been the best feud this year (and I hold a special prayer for Dominick Gutierrez, whose pain over what he went through over the summer could only have been intensified by the death of his Uncle Eddie), but Eddie was facing up to a harder reality. He was 38 years old, his body was breaking down, his window of opportunity to stay a top performer was closing, he didn't save the money a main eventer of his tenure should have saved, and he had a young family that he loved and wanted to provide for, the same way he always had. He didn't always see that his acting ability and psychology might have carried him forward as a top performer for many years to come. That was a heavy burden to carry for a man who who wore every emotion he felt - his joy at delighting fans, his passion for working great matches, his love for his mother, his brothers, his wife, his daughters and his friends, his religious faith, his insecurity, and his despair on that expressive face for everyone to see. And then, like so many times before, that burden was lifted off his shoulders forever. "If my story can be a positive influence to one person..." said Eddie Guerrero on "Cheating Death, Stealing Life." The problem with stealing is sooner or later you get caught. Bruce Mitchell has been a Torch columnist since September 1990. He recommends "The Plot Against America" by Phillip Roth for your reading pleasure. You can hear him every weekend in the Bruce Mitchell Audio Update at the Torch VIP website (PWTorch.com/members). I usually do not do this, but that was Bruce Mitchell's column on Eddy, I thought it was a good read.

Even if you really like him, who would want their kids to be like Eddy? He was a pill popper, a steriod user, an alcoholic and a drug abuser. Also, he seemed to have huge mood swings, going after fans at house shows.

People sue all the time, but good luck winning that case. In a lawsuit you are awarded damages. What exactly did he damage? Eddy's legacy? All an attorney would need to do is pop in Eddy's DVD, Eddy did not hide his drug habits. His legacy has been set by his own admissions. If you are talking punitive damages, good luck. You would need to find a judge willing to punish a talk show host for his opinion, a judge who would then very likely have his verdict over-ruled in the circuit court of appeals. Making him look bad.