By Marc Donmoyer, Day After Monday Lounger
Mar 16, 2004
The two gladiators stood in the Garden. They were once both monsters. They were both the next big thing. The mere sight of them inspired awe. These enormous men were a spectacle; they were money in the bank, they were the kind of guys who the WWE centered around. The only thing they lacked was the addiction, the addiction to pro wrestling.
They stood toe to toe in Madison Square Garden as the crowd tore them apart.
They spent almost two decades living the life of Pro Wrestling, slowly climbing their way to the top. They wrestled through countless promotions, countless matches, and countless bumps. They were permanent mid carders, sometimes upper mid card, but the companies never relied on them to carry the big title, to be the big draw. A toothless little Canadian shaped like a midget, and a struggling Latino recovering addict, also small by main event standards. These were the last two men any one would have suspected would be the focus of the twentieth Wrestlemania.
They stood side by side in Madison Square Garden as the crowd brought them to tears.
For the first time since I can remember the WWE 100% delivered on their promise. Wrestlemania XX was truly where it all began again, as the company returned to fundamental wrestling and a new attitude of pushing heart before size.
A couple months ago I wrote a column about Chris Benoit and Eddie Guerrero possibly shattering the glass ceiling in the WWE. Two days ago I discovered I was right. First of all, let me welcome you to a special Tuesday edition of “What it’s Worth.”
Yeah, I was too hung over to write it yesterday, now that’s special.
Face it all you smarks, I was right. The WWE has catered to the IWC in a surprising manner. The circus of Wrestlemania XX was a defining moment in the history of the WWE. In many ways it was inferior to Wrestlemania XIX, but sometimes that’s the cost of transition. The greatness of that particular show didn’t come from the sum of its parts, but rather the worth of its whole. The WWE has a freshness about that I find shocking. I’m completely shocked by the climax of Wrestlemania involving Triple H tapping cleanly to an unrelenting Chris Benoit, followed by a teary Guerrero and Benoit closing the show.
The end of Wrestlemania was the ultimate payoff for the fans. It was a true face victory. It wasn’t some hot new prospect, or some Ultimate Warrior. It was two of the most talented wrestlers today, finally getting their due, on the biggest stage they could possibly imagine. They stood there in that ring, with their titles, said goodbye to twenty years of WWE wrestling, and welcomed twenty more.
Whoever it is that needs thanking, I would like to say thank you. For all I know it was Triple H. Hell, I’m really starting to like him again. He was great in the triple threat, all three were. Vince McMahon thanked the fans at Wrestlemania, and I would like to thank him in return. What happened on Sunday was the right thing to do for the business, for the men involved, and for the amazing crowd of Madison Square Garden. The last live moment in the arena wasn’t Triple H, it wasn’t A McMahon, it wasn’t The Rock. The last live moment was two great wrestlers, basking in greatness.
If there was a sign attached to the WWE heavyweight titles, it would have changed. At one point it said “Must be 6’ or Taller to Ride this Ride.” Now it would say “Caution: Broken Glass.”
Brock Lesnar and Bill Goldberg spent the last year becoming even richer millionaires.
Eddie Guerrero and Chris Benoit spent the last eighteen years becoming legends.
I would love feedback on this one. Marc@Thescallywags.com.
© Copyright 2004 by TDH Communications Inc.
Source: pwtorch
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