TIME TO PLAY THE GAME
That's right. I'm back!!! For those of you who don't know me, I am the Game. And I am entering the Royal Rumble!!!!
Ok, so I plagiarized the real "Game" but seriously, I am back. Sorry I haven't written in damn near a month. Seeing the two biggest liars in the history of wrestling return really broke my spirit to write... Ok so I plagiarized the Honky-Tonk Man there. Seriously though, I received a nice surprise on Christmas morning when my laptop wouldn't start up. I had written up a nice lil' Christmas thingy and was about halfway through when up in my room there arose such a clatter, I opened my laptop to see what was the matter. OK, I know that was gay.. anyways, my laptop just wouldn't start, no power, no DOS, no startup, nothing. I thought the power supply had crapped out. I even made an appointment with a good friend of mine who is a big time computer repair dude. I mean, I am well versed in computers and am very possibly getting into the IT field when I graduate college, but this guy (his name is actually Guy by the way) can run circles around me when it comes to fixing these things (except Mac's I am the Mac KING. When I get done with IMac's, they get renamed ISac's!!!). To make a long (and boring) story short, I went to show my girlfriend (I know, laugh it up) what had happened and it popped right on!! It's been working ever since. I have no excuse for the last week however.
2001 was a really great year for me up until Sept 11 of course. I think that kinda ruined the year for everyone one way or another. Last year I performed my first standup act, reunited with a lost childhood friend, had an awesome summer, accomplished my goal of going back (away) to school, and was given the opportunity to write for this site (which, believe it or not, is a big thrill for me). This year I should be graduating college, furthering my standup experience, attempting to start up my own business and/or finally getting a non-minimum wage job. Hopefully I will be able to accomplish all of that and then some, as well as get into some shape other than obtuse. Here's hoping 2002 is good for all of us.
Onto the wrestling:
I have decided to post the uncompleted Christmas column at the end of this one. It would mean a lot to me if you could all critique my "Christmas Carol" parody. I've never written in that style before.
So the Game is back. This is good news for the WWF. The good news is he gives a hell of a lot of star power to thw WWF when they need it the most. Secondly, He adds to the already star studded Royal Rumble. This is the first Rumble I can remember where we honestly don't know who is going to win. Winning the Rumble doesn't necessarily mean you will end up with the Wrestlemania title shot anymore, so that throws more mystery around it. He also provides the WWF with months of built in storylines, such as the Stephanie relationship, revenge with Jericho and/or Benoit (when he returns) for his injury, revenge on Steve Austin for talking trash after he was injured, and this whole Kurt Angle thing. Not to mention the WWF split. What side is he on? Hmmm.. It's good to be the Game. He looked great as well, as his muscle mass increased a great deal, without him being too bulky. It was really nice to see him so emotional at one point in the ring because of the tremendous ovation he received. I am sure glad I was able to see it live. I wish I could have been there. I almost was actually, but I couldn't get tickets. Damn.
Here's something to think about before I switch subjects:
HHH's first name is Hunter. What does a hunter hunt? Game. Perhaps this is a Freudian cry for help by HHH. Perhaps he's saying he's his own worst enemy. Perhaps he's making a statement at how most people can never truly achieve peace with their inner selves. Such a beautiful commentary on human nature makes me want to cry out to the heavens "HEAVENS!! WHY HAVE YOU CURSED US WITH SUCH A FICKLE NATURE!!! WHY!?!?!?!!!" It's this kind of expressionistic artistry that truly makes the World Wrestling Federation the worldwide leader in sports entertainment. Excuse me. I'm getting vechlempt.
What the WWF needs to do with Jericho is give him a Canadian Horsemen stable to lead. He can have Test as his enforcer, Lance Storm as the secondary title guy, Christian and the freshly heel Edge as tag team champs again. They would really tear the house down, and it would be the first major non McMahon angle in years.
Ok, I'm out. Here's the Christmas thing. The "Christmas Carol" story has a really cool "shocking swerve" ending that I never got around to writing down. If you want to know what happens e-mail me and I'll write the final scene and post it(even if I get just a few e-mails). Remember, I would LOVE feedback on the story.
THE CHRISTMAS THING
I just want to wish everyone a happy and healthy holliday season. I know that this may be a difficult and trying year for alot of us, but we can take some solace that we are all still here to celebrate the holidays with the ones we love. For those of you that may have lost a loved one this year, just because you can't see them anymore doesn't mean that they aren't there. (If that makes any sense).
Thank GOD the semester is over!!! One to go and I can officially be considered unemployed.
A quick thought on the Billy Silverman hazing thing. Hazing is wrong. Period. I am firmly against hazing of any kind. Practical joking is one thing, teasing or ribbing is another thing, but hazing crosses the line. Hazing may be ok for a college fraternity, but has no place in a PUBLICLY TRADED COMPANY. Vince, things like this tend to drive stock value down. If sock value drops, YOUR value drops. Besides, I think what I read about the whole Bradshaw-Silverman mess doesn't count as hazing. I think it is more or less bullying. Hazing has two willing participants. The hazee may be reluctant, but he subjects himself to the hazing knowingly. When someone is unwillingly forced to do anything or treated roughly for any reason unwillingly, it is no longer hazing it is either bullying, harassment or assault. Calling it hazing is a clever spin done by the WWF higher ups. The fact that Silverman complained to management and they did nothing about it makes me question the competency of said management. If I was a stockholder, I'd be more than a little concerned about word of this spreading into the business sector. Something like this makes the company much less attractive to top level talent. I'm not talking about the athletes, either. I'm talking about brains to fuel the the think tank of the WWF marketing and business machine. Believe me, the story will quickly go from "The WWF did nothing when a referee was hazed by one of the wrestlers" to "the WWF's employees harass the new employees all the time, and no one stops it". Try recruiting employees with that hanging over your head.
OK, on to the merry stuff.
A WWF Christmas Carol
Remember the story about Scrooge? Well, I adapted it to the WWF and shortened it. I've never really written in this style(story format, with dialogue.) so if it comes out crappy, I apologize in advance and let me know. Hohoho. Merry Christmas.
"Thank you Mr. McMahon" said Poor ol' JR. "And a Merry Christmas to ya, by gawd"
"Bah Humbug!" Said Mr. McMahon. "I want you here extra early next time or dammit you will KISS MY ASS!!!!"
"Yes sir, Mr. McMahon" Said JR as he slipped out the office door. Mr. McMahon was furious . He had never let any of his employees off early. Why should JR be an exception, especially since he had given him a generous 2 cent raise this year. How badly he yearned to have JR kiss his ass. "Monday" he thought "JR will kiss my ass right here in this very office"
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Vince answered, and much to his disgust, it was a member of the American Red Cross looking for donations.
"Dammit" Vince yelled "I'm sick and damn tired of people like you leaning on pillars of strength like me. Can't those people get a job or something? Tell you what, I'll give you $1000 right now, if you'll get on your knees and KISS MY ASS!!" Vince grabbed the hapless collector and yanked him inside. Then he pulled a chap stick out of his pocket and gave it to the man. "Put this on before you kiss may ass. It's a nice ass. Look at it do tricks!!!" At this point, it was apparent that the collector was having second thoughts. "Dammit I said kiss my ass and I'll give you the money!! Do it or you won't get a dime, not one single dime out of me!!" Vince screamed as the collector trembled. "KISS MY ASS!!!"
Finally, the collector succumbed. As he slowly rose to his feet to collect the money, Vince turned around. "Look at you. You know what people like you do to me? You make me SICK!! You wish you could be like me. You wish you had the money. You wish you had the power. Instead you have nothing. Tell you what. I want you out of my office NOW you miserable piece of drat!!!"
"But Mr. McMahon, what about the money?" inquired the collector.
"I remember no such conversation taking place. As far as I recall you came in here to kiss my ass and you did, so off with you!!" And with that Mr. McMahon tossed the hapless collector into the street.
**Flash forward to the part where he is walking home**
Vince approached his door, as he went to unlock it, he was shocked to see what appeared to be an image of his father in the door knocker. Stunned, he shook his head violently in disbelief. When he looked again, he saw nothing unusual. "I must be tired." He thought.
He entered the main chamber of his house and began to make himself a big bowl of ICOPro. As he sat to eat the workout suppliment used by WBF superstars themselves, he heard a ghostly wailing. He listened intently as the wailing became clearer and closer.
"Viiiiiince McMahon...." the voice said. "Viiiiiiince McMahon...."
"The damn Titantron must be going haywire!" Vince exclaimed.
"Viiince..... McMahon... This is not a Titantron..."
Just then Vince wet himself. While the wetness spread throughout his nether regions, the voice faded and disappeared. After a few minuted of silence, Vince got up to change his pants. "Must have been the wind" Vince thought to himself. As he turned to head towards the stairs, his face became a pale shade of white.
"Vince McMahon!!!" shrieked a ghostly shadow. "I am here to warn you to change your actions. I have been sent here tonight to tell you of three ghosts who will be visiting you this evening."
"And just who the hell are you?!?!" Vince asked.
"Why, don't you recognize me?" the apparition responded as he stepped into a ray of moonlight that had broken through the heavy drapes covering the front window. "I am your father, Vince McMahon Sr."
"My God!!" Vince droned out in disbelief.
Vince Sr. approached his son. He was wearing the clothes he was buried in, with one notable addition. Around his neck were what appeared to be 40 feet of heavy steel chains.
"Dad!! Look at you!! What on Earth brought you here?" Asked Vince Jr.
"Nothing on Earth brought me here my son. I was sent here from above to change your evil ways." Vince Sr. replied
"And those chains around your neck?"
"These were given to me in the afterlife!! These represent victory. For each opponent I defeated, I added another link to the chain"
"Wait a minute!!" Vince exclaimed "I gave that gimmick to Hercules Hernandez back in the 80's!"
"OK, you got me." Vince Sr. said "I just brought these for effect. Think of them as a visual aid."
"What do you mean?"
"I brought these to explain to you what is in store for you in the afterlife if you continue down this path. Each evil act you commit adds another link to YOUR chain." The Ghost explained "Each good act erases a link. Your problem is that you have done much more evil than good, and if you don't change your ways before your time comes, you will be doomed to carry chains larger than these for eternity."
"Aww come on. How much bad have I really done?" Vince Jr. asked. "Tell me, how long is my chain right now?"
"If you are referring to your chains for the afterlife, and not some of your trade marked phallic references, let's put it this way" Vince Sr. responded "In the last hour of RAW alone you added 10 links to your chain"
"This can't be!! Dammit I'm Vince McMahon!!!" Jr. stated.
"So am I, stupid" Sr. retorted "At midnight you will be visited by three ghosts. My time is up. I must go." And with that, Vince Sr. disappeared into a cloud of smoke.
Vince laid awake in bed at 11:30 trying to get the days events out of his mind. "How could this be?" he thought. "Did my father really just appear to me?" He slowly drifted into unconsciousness.
No sooner did he drift to sleep than was he awoken by a loud noise coming from the kitchen. He looked at his clock. It read 12:01. Vince cautiously approached his kitchen. Nothing he could have imagined would have prepared him for what he saw next.
"Hello, Lady" Boomed a voice from the kitchen.
"No" Vince thought. "This is impossible"
Vince slowly opened the kitchen door to confirm exactly what he had suspected. He still couldn't believe it.
"I know you're not a lady, Vince but I like saying that" The voice said. Vince examined the man in the kitchen. He was a huge man. Vince had only once in his life seen a man that size before. The man was consuming whole hams, bunched of fruit and drink gallons at a time.
"I am the Ghost of Christmas past, but you might remember me as Andre the Giant" The ghost revealed.
Vince was flabbergasted.
"Take my hand" The Giant said.
Vince's hand trembled as he reached for Andre's hand.
"Hold on, Vince" said the spirit as he leapt out of the window with Vince in tow. "First stop 1991" called out the Giant.
They landed outside of Vince's office.
"So?" Vince growled "What's wrong with my office?"
"Look inside" answered Andre.
Vince looked inside. His jaw dropped as he saw his younger self on the phone.
"Yep I just fired Tony Schiavonne's ass!!" Said the younger Vince. "Let me tell you, that guy SUCKS!"
"Are you going to tell me I ruined his life or something?" Vince asked the giant.
"No." Replied Andre "I just love seeing Schiavonne suffer."
Gifts for Pro Wrestling's Finest
Vince- A digital Blurring machine for the next time he decides to show