My sister called me Monday night at 10:03 and said, “Turn on channel 25.” I turned to my husband and said, “Turn on channel 25.” She waited for me to tell him and said, “Chris Benoit is dead.” My mouth dropped open and I said, “What? Chris Benoit?” Then I saw the tribute on channel 25. WWE had canceled all matches that were scheduled for that night to “remember” Chris Benoit. The show had started at 8:00. I had already missed two hours of it but I asked my husband to record the rest. I was stunned and saddened.
I haven’t been a loyal watcher of professional wrestling for quite a few years but I would occasionally turn it on and kind of scoff at the storylines or drool over some hot guy in tights. I think I was about nine when I started watching wrestling. It was whenever that whole Hulkamania thing started. Over the twenty or so years that I watched loyally, I had several favorite wrestlers but a few always remained untouched at the top of my list. Those few were/are Bret Hart (“The Best There Is, The Best There Was, and The Best There Ever Will Be” – truth), Chris Benoit, and Eddie Guerrero. I’ve liked several others, obviously, through the years but when asked who my favorite wrestlers were/are, I could/can always start off with those three. I didn’t always love the characters but I always respected, admired and enjoyed the wrestlers.
Respect.
Triple H said that’s the word that came to his mind when asked to describe Chris Benoit. It seemed to fit. How could you not respect arguably one of the greatest wrestlers to ever step into the ring? He seemed to give respect and show respect as much as he received and demanded it. Good word, Triple H.
Respect.
Edge said Chris was one of the few people backstage he could always go to when he needed to talk. He said there were only a few and now two of them are gone. Perhaps one of the other ones was Eddie. I don’t know. That’s just a guess. Let me sidetrack to Eddie for a minute.
Eddie Guerrero spent a good part of his career not getting the respect he so greatly deserved. The other parts were spent on addiction to alcohol and pain killers... for the most part. Eddie’s career path was starting to finally take an upswing. He was getting great storylines and big matches. He was traveling and performing more and more. He was gaining more and more respect. His rehabilitation was effective. He hadn’t abused drugs for four years. On November 13, 2005, his nephew Chavo found him unconscious in his hotel room and the first person he called was Chris Benoit, Eddie’s best friend. Chavo tried to revive Eddie to no avail. Eddie Guerrero was pronounced dead by the paramedics. Apparently, all the years of drug abuse weakened his blood vessels and his heart complications went undetected. He was 38 years old.
It was said that Eddie was slated to win the World Heavyweight Championship match that they were to tape that night. No wrestlers were forced to perform that night but several matches still took place. Chavo chose to wrestle that night and ended his match with a Frog Splash, his uncle’s signature finishing move.
In April 2006, Eddie was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame by Chavo, Rey Mysterio and Chris Benoit.
In March 2007, Sports Illustrated posted an article on their website regarding their investigation on steroid and HGH use by professional athletes. Eddie was named in this article.
R.I.P Eddie (October 9, 1967 – November 13, 2005)
Respect.
It’s hard for me to know that I shouldn’t use that word for Chris Benoit anymore. How do you respect somebody who savagely kills his wife and his seven year old son and then hangs himself? But how do you not respect somebody who brought excitement, intensity, and determination to the ring every time and commanded and gave respect to every person he met everywhere he went all the time? How do you lose respect for Chris Benoit? I’m reading that everywhere today. How terrible his actions were. How you can’t kill your family and yourself and still be respected. I get that. I do. I realize what he did was terrible and unforgivable and whatever. I just can’t help looking at pictures of him and watching tape of his matches and not using that word. Respect.
When I met Chris Benoit, it was the first time I ever went to an event such as it was alone. Nobody could go with me and I didn’t care. I had to meet him. I had to. As nervous as I was to stand there alone, I was more nervous to come face to face with somebody I had daydreams about and respected so much. I was in awe of him and amazed by him. He was signing autographs outside an auto parts store. I don’t know why and I can’t clearly remember exactly when. It was somewhere between 1996 and 1997 and it was hot and pouring down rain. I bought him a stuffed puppy (I don’t remember what the significance of it was. He told stories about his Rottweiler knocking his tooth out later but this wasn’t a stuffed Rottweiler. It was gray and white. *shrug*) and forgot my camera (now that I’m thinking about it, I’m pretty sure I ran into the drug store and bought a disposable one. Hmmm..) and I stood there in the rain and just watched him signing autographs and shaking people’s hands. Some guy from the auto parts store was shooting free t-shirts (Mark Martin t-shirts) out of some kind of popping device and came over to hand me one. I talked to him for a few minutes, telling him why I was there, why I would stand in the pouring down rain all alone for a handshake from a professional wrestler. “Because he’s one of my favorite wrestlers and I want to meet him.” Simple. When I finally got up to the table, it had stopped raining long ago and I’m sure I looked a mess, Chris looked up at me and smiled, “What’s your name?” I smiled back. Unheard of. Usually when I meet famous people, I can’t speak or do anything but hang my mouth open or giggle. “Hi. Gloria. Here. I bought this for you.” And I handed him the stuffed puppy. He looked up at me and blinked. “You did?” He stood up from his chair and leaned across the table and hugged me. That was the first time he stood up since I watched him sit down an hour or so earlier. He sat back down and put the puppy on the table to his left and smiled at it. “Gloria,” he said and signed his picture. I asked him to sign an extra one for a friend and he did (he asked me how to spell Diane). He shook my hand and I said, “Thank you so much.” He looked me in the eyes and said, “thank you.” I stayed there until he left. I sat in my car and watched him. I know, it was stalkerish or whatever but I wasn’t ready to stop watching him. There weren’t many people behind me in line so I didn’t have to sit there too long. I watched his assistant or whoever she was (it wasn’t Nancy, I know that) gather up the extra pictures and putting them in a box. Then she started to take the pens and such from the table and he reached over and took the puppy and carried into the limo.
See. So I can’t not remember that. I’m reading all these things about how terrible he is and how inhumane murder-suicide is. I know. I mean. He brutally killed his wife and his son (his 7 year old son!) and committed suicide and I started to write this entry and wanted to talk about how I have been disillusioned and disheartened yet again by somebody I respect tremendously and admire greatly...
but now all I can think about is him smiling at that stuffed puppy.
R.I.P. Chris (May 21, 1967 – June 25, 2007)
I haven’t been a loyal watcher of professional wrestling for quite a few years but I would occasionally turn it on and kind of scoff at the storylines or drool over some hot guy in tights. I think I was about nine when I started watching wrestling. It was whenever that whole Hulkamania thing started. Over the twenty or so years that I watched loyally, I had several favorite wrestlers but a few always remained untouched at the top of my list. Those few were/are Bret Hart (“The Best There Is, The Best There Was, and The Best There Ever Will Be” – truth), Chris Benoit, and Eddie Guerrero. I’ve liked several others, obviously, through the years but when asked who my favorite wrestlers were/are, I could/can always start off with those three. I didn’t always love the characters but I always respected, admired and enjoyed the wrestlers.
Respect.
Triple H said that’s the word that came to his mind when asked to describe Chris Benoit. It seemed to fit. How could you not respect arguably one of the greatest wrestlers to ever step into the ring? He seemed to give respect and show respect as much as he received and demanded it. Good word, Triple H.
Respect.
Edge said Chris was one of the few people backstage he could always go to when he needed to talk. He said there were only a few and now two of them are gone. Perhaps one of the other ones was Eddie. I don’t know. That’s just a guess. Let me sidetrack to Eddie for a minute.
Eddie Guerrero spent a good part of his career not getting the respect he so greatly deserved. The other parts were spent on addiction to alcohol and pain killers... for the most part. Eddie’s career path was starting to finally take an upswing. He was getting great storylines and big matches. He was traveling and performing more and more. He was gaining more and more respect. His rehabilitation was effective. He hadn’t abused drugs for four years. On November 13, 2005, his nephew Chavo found him unconscious in his hotel room and the first person he called was Chris Benoit, Eddie’s best friend. Chavo tried to revive Eddie to no avail. Eddie Guerrero was pronounced dead by the paramedics. Apparently, all the years of drug abuse weakened his blood vessels and his heart complications went undetected. He was 38 years old.
It was said that Eddie was slated to win the World Heavyweight Championship match that they were to tape that night. No wrestlers were forced to perform that night but several matches still took place. Chavo chose to wrestle that night and ended his match with a Frog Splash, his uncle’s signature finishing move.
In April 2006, Eddie was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame by Chavo, Rey Mysterio and Chris Benoit.
In March 2007, Sports Illustrated posted an article on their website regarding their investigation on steroid and HGH use by professional athletes. Eddie was named in this article.
R.I.P Eddie (October 9, 1967 – November 13, 2005)
Respect.
It’s hard for me to know that I shouldn’t use that word for Chris Benoit anymore. How do you respect somebody who savagely kills his wife and his seven year old son and then hangs himself? But how do you not respect somebody who brought excitement, intensity, and determination to the ring every time and commanded and gave respect to every person he met everywhere he went all the time? How do you lose respect for Chris Benoit? I’m reading that everywhere today. How terrible his actions were. How you can’t kill your family and yourself and still be respected. I get that. I do. I realize what he did was terrible and unforgivable and whatever. I just can’t help looking at pictures of him and watching tape of his matches and not using that word. Respect.
When I met Chris Benoit, it was the first time I ever went to an event such as it was alone. Nobody could go with me and I didn’t care. I had to meet him. I had to. As nervous as I was to stand there alone, I was more nervous to come face to face with somebody I had daydreams about and respected so much. I was in awe of him and amazed by him. He was signing autographs outside an auto parts store. I don’t know why and I can’t clearly remember exactly when. It was somewhere between 1996 and 1997 and it was hot and pouring down rain. I bought him a stuffed puppy (I don’t remember what the significance of it was. He told stories about his Rottweiler knocking his tooth out later but this wasn’t a stuffed Rottweiler. It was gray and white. *shrug*) and forgot my camera (now that I’m thinking about it, I’m pretty sure I ran into the drug store and bought a disposable one. Hmmm..) and I stood there in the rain and just watched him signing autographs and shaking people’s hands. Some guy from the auto parts store was shooting free t-shirts (Mark Martin t-shirts) out of some kind of popping device and came over to hand me one. I talked to him for a few minutes, telling him why I was there, why I would stand in the pouring down rain all alone for a handshake from a professional wrestler. “Because he’s one of my favorite wrestlers and I want to meet him.” Simple. When I finally got up to the table, it had stopped raining long ago and I’m sure I looked a mess, Chris looked up at me and smiled, “What’s your name?” I smiled back. Unheard of. Usually when I meet famous people, I can’t speak or do anything but hang my mouth open or giggle. “Hi. Gloria. Here. I bought this for you.” And I handed him the stuffed puppy. He looked up at me and blinked. “You did?” He stood up from his chair and leaned across the table and hugged me. That was the first time he stood up since I watched him sit down an hour or so earlier. He sat back down and put the puppy on the table to his left and smiled at it. “Gloria,” he said and signed his picture. I asked him to sign an extra one for a friend and he did (he asked me how to spell Diane). He shook my hand and I said, “Thank you so much.” He looked me in the eyes and said, “thank you.” I stayed there until he left. I sat in my car and watched him. I know, it was stalkerish or whatever but I wasn’t ready to stop watching him. There weren’t many people behind me in line so I didn’t have to sit there too long. I watched his assistant or whoever she was (it wasn’t Nancy, I know that) gather up the extra pictures and putting them in a box. Then she started to take the pens and such from the table and he reached over and took the puppy and carried into the limo.
See. So I can’t not remember that. I’m reading all these things about how terrible he is and how inhumane murder-suicide is. I know. I mean. He brutally killed his wife and his son (his 7 year old son!) and committed suicide and I started to write this entry and wanted to talk about how I have been disillusioned and disheartened yet again by somebody I respect tremendously and admire greatly...
but now all I can think about is him smiling at that stuffed puppy.
R.I.P. Chris (May 21, 1967 – June 25, 2007)
