Mathew Browne

I just got up for a walkabout for the first time after sitting at my desk working non-stop for 6 hours and 3 minutes. I wonder if I can sue UCL when I develop deep vein thrombosis? My thighs and lower back are now a mess thanks to my self-enforced immobility. My stomach, too, is a mess, owing to the fact that I only had time to bring a measly sandwich with me today which did not do the old hunger-satisfaction thing.

Tomorrow I leave the house at 5:30 am to join the motley queue of WWE (née WWF) die-hards forming outside HMV on Oxford Street, because the first 500 people to buy the 3-DVD box set chronicling the career of wrestling legend Bret “Hitman” Hart will get to meet the guy at 6:00 pm that evening - an opportunity I simply cannot pass up.

A similar event took place at Hamley’s last year, featuring current WWE wrestler Big Show. I felt pretty clever catching an early (for me, a student bum at the time) tube at 10 am for a 2 pm signing, only to find about 1000 die-hards queuing ahead of me, over a hundred of whom had done so overnight. Suffice to say I didn’t meet him. I did, however, find a place to grab some breakfast, followed by several beers at a pub off Carnaby Street. Then I waited by the staff exit at Hamley’s to get his autograph on the way out. It was a great (albeit slightly stalkerish) idea, except I wasn’t the only one to think of it. In fact, I think every 4-child family within the M25 perimeter had thought of it and descended like locusts when he made his appearance. Big Show came out and shook everyone’s hand, but only had time to pose and sign autographs for the kids in attendance (the snivelling little shits) and bugger off. C’est la vie.

My internet with Newnet is activated on Tuesday, allegedly. Woo!

I was reading a WWE discussion board that was mocking the claim by Scott Steiner that he has never taken steroids. Take a look at this photo and judge for yourself.

Then somebody brought up the name of Gregg Valentine, a bodybuilder who also insists he has never touched the stuff. Again, judge for yourself. Then either be shocked, amused, or (like me) both. He looks like he has had multiple breast enlargements… in his arms!

I can understand working out to look buff, or to be physically fit/healthy, or both. This, however, is neither. If I form a celebrity death pool this year, he is my first choice.

I* managed to get THIRD ROW tickets, ringside, next to the wrestler’s walkway, for WWE Raw at Wembley. And it’s going to be on the telly.

Fucking Excellent. I am very, VERY happy.

* - By “I”, I mean “the missus”. I actually “only” managed to get fourth row tickets. Evidently we both have lightning-quick internet ticket-booking reflexes.

According to WWE.com and some news reports out of Minneapolis today, the wrestler Eddie Guerrero has died aged 38. Ironically, their current storyline had him winning the world championship this evening.

It’s sad really, but a lot of my childhood wrestling heroes have died young. These include:

Owen Hart (aged 34 - broken neck from a wrestling stunt gone wrong)
The British Bulldog (aged 39 - heart attack)
Mr. Perfect (aged 45 - cocaine overdose)
Brian Pillman (aged 35 - heart condition)
Andre The Giant (aged 47 - heart attack)
Rick Rude (aged 40 - heart failure)
Yokozuna (aged 34 - heart attack)
Chris Candido (aged 33 - blood clot formed after an in-ring injury)
Crash Holly (aged 32 - overdose of painkillers and alcohol)
Hawk of the Legion of Doom (aged 43 - heart failure)

You may have noticed a pattern emerging there. While it may seem disrespectful to speculate so soon after Eddie’s passing, one might be able to make an educated guess at what the problem was.

300-days-a-year schedules, coupled with rampant steroid and recreational drug abuse (addiction to painkillers is common among wrestlers) tend to take their toll on the body. Therefore premature deaths in the wrestling business, unfortunately, are commonplace. However, that doesn’t make Eddie Guerrero’s death any less shocking.

On a side note, I was amazed at (and morbidly appreciative of) how quickly Eddie’s Wikipedia entry was updated. Click here to view it.

I’ve got 137 of 150 stars on Mario 64 DS. I should never have started playing it - all other games I ever play on it will seem crap by comparison.

Saw the new WWE Ultimate Warrior DVD tonight. Unlike other DVDs that WWE puts out, the sole reason they’ve released this is to bury the guy. A generation of guys like me grew up watching the Ultimate Warrior on Saturday mornings, and everyone of those will tell you he was awesome. Or that he knew a good pharmacist.

To the uninitiated, the Ultimate Warrior was this massive wrestler in the WWF (as it used to be called before the pandas and wildlife people took the initials back…) who used to have this killer rock entrance music, wearing war paint, leg it down to the ring, beat the shit out of his opponent, and leg it out of there. All in about two minutes. The guy only ever lost once that I can recall.

Of course, I’m older and wiser. I realise that, for a wrestler, refusing to lose is not good business - it makes everyone else look weak. Especially when you beat each of them in the time it takes your Average Joe to make a cup of tea.

Also, his interviews were longer than hs matches by a considerable margin and made fuck all sense. Actual quote: “I only breathe the air that smells of combat”. Indeed. Sounds like an Iron Maiden lyric. Maybe his arm bands were cutting off his circulation that day and making him feel a little woozy. Or maybe it was the daily fistful of steroids he chowed down.

So, this DVD I’m watching tonight tells the “other” story of the Ultimate Warrior - that he was a self-confessed steroid abusing homophobe, who was such an screwball that he actually changed his full, legal name to Warrior. No surname, just Warrior.

EDIT (24-Sep-05): I read on the Wrestlecrap message boards that he has a daughter called Arizona. Arizona Warrior. It must suck to have a fruitcake for a Dad and a name that sounds like a shit Western.