For a good period of time, I was dull. I was callous. I was out of it. Wrestling was far from my mind. Sure, I went to the same sites you did. I read the same results, spoilers, and news you did. I read that Triple H got the belt back. I read that Orton was coming into his own. I read that Carlito, was, in fact, cool. I was still there, but was I really? Look above. Did I say “I saw” this or that? No. I said “read.”
It started off small. I had a meeting and missed Raw. I got a little peeved, but brushed it off. Next Thursday, I was overwhelmed and decided not to get distracted by wrestling while working. I was too overwhelmed to even care at the time.. I was then bored on a Monday, but decided not to watch as I needed to get “stuff” done. I didn’t even care that it was “in the UK live.” I was missing Raw and Smackdown, and telling myself, “It’s ok. I can read the results later.” I was missing the matches that make the stars and telling myself, “The IWC is blasting it anyway. What’s the point?” I wasn’t watching anything wrestling. I was tuning it out. It didn’t even register in my brain that the last time I had watched anything wrestling related had been longer than the time Triple H’s main event status.
One day shortly after, I get all my work done, and what do I do? I go for a walk. I clear my head. I think quietly on important things. Politics. Life. Health.
That’s when it hit me.
I reach down and pull out my phone to see the day and time. 11:29 EST on a Monday. I forgot about Raw. No, I didn’t remember it and get pissed that I couldn’t watch or discard it since I was busy. I plumb forgot that it was even on.
What had happened?
My passion for the business that drove me to commentate, report, review, interview, and write columns like the one before you was dwindling. Perhaps all the criticism of wrestling turned me off. Perhaps it was work and stress. It could have been anything, but it didn’t matter what had made it happened; it mattered that it did happen. My passion was gone, and that is not what I wanted. Me. Dougie Nunny, who has done everything to kick start my career in the past year and half because of pure passion. I looked at myself in the window of a car and thought, “This has to change.” And that’s all it took. I was off. Like the fallen champion, I set to regain what I once prided myself so much in. So I sat down and grabbed everything I could. DVDs, Tapes, media files, et cetera. Anything and everything wrestling, I watched them.
From NJPW to WWE, I watched it all. From the feud of Undertaker and Shawn Michaels to the documentary on Bret Hart, I saw it all. From the brutal nature of Hell In A Cell to the comical interactions of Hurricane and Rock, I felt it all. I got to a point where my hard drive was almost full of wrestling media (now hovering around 6 gigabytes). I got to a point where my DVD player was overheating. But it didn’t matter to me. Why? Simple
I had found it. Like the fallen champion, I got it back. How? Even simpler.
I put the DVD in. I loaded the media up. I sat my butt down. I grabbed a drink. And I hit play.
The next thirty minutes, two hours, ten seconds, or however long it was disappeared.
Time stood still as I was in my own world. Day engulfed night. 2 a.m. evaporated into 7 a.m. Monday melted away into Wednesday. I looked on as men fought, men bled, men celebrated, and men cried. The warriors of the squared circle flashed before my eyes. Undertaker. Steve Austin. Bret & Owen Hart. Kurt Angle. Shawn Michaels. I was no longer in my dorm. I had gone to a world not of this one. Nothing else mattered. I wasn’t laying on my bed comfortable with my computer on my lap watching two men dance around each other in what some call a “homoerotic fashion.”
I was blessed to witness stories, triumphs, heartaches, and oh, so much more. That’s where I was. In a place of pure bliss. Watching the pure battles of the rattlesnakes, bad asses, pie eaters, limousine riders, cerebral assassins, and more. Watching the genuine struggles of the wolverines, masked heroes, gold medalists, and legend killers.
But why am I telling you all this? Why have I rambled for almost two pages about what I did?
In the land of the IWC today, we find ourselves in a constant land of struggle. We criticize mostly everything that is put before us. Matches. Title changes. Skits. All of it. We take one problem and blow it up to the proportions of the Screwjob in 1997. We get caught up in all the negativity. I am not saying you or me, but as a whole, the criticism takes control. Whether we like it or not, it does get to us. It gets to that passion like Snitsky to a dead baby.
Simply put, like me, you lose the passion.
It doesn’t matter if you hate the product now or you love it, a lot of us have lost the passion; and for people like us, people who carved the IWC and keep it pumping, to lose the passion is not just wrong, it is a sin against ourselves and what we used to know and love.
So I beg you all. Take a time out, whether it be a quarter, half, or full hour, and regain your passion. Read a book by your favorite brawler. Read an article about your favorite move. Watch your favorite feud. Listen to your favorite wrestler’s theme music. Doesn’t matter what. Do anything. Anything to get your passion back.
You may not have lost the passion like I have, but if you are reading this; the chances are you inhabit the IWC. Chances are you read all the criticism, the rumors, the news, and the bullshit. Little by little, those things are tearing apart your passion.
Don’t let it.
For every rumor you read, listen to a promo. For every result you view, watch a PPV. For every spoiler you see, read an article.
Doesn’t matter what to be honest, just do anything to keep your passion. Without the passion, there would be no IWC. Without the passion, some hardcore fans would be left with a void in their life. Without the passion, many aspiring journalists like myself would be in the gutter. And most importantly, without the passion, the business, the very business that is the source of the passion I speak of, would die out.
So get your passion. Cherish it. And more importantly, keep it.
I will never lose mine again. Ever. This passion that I speak of and stake my career on will forever be in me. My wrestling passion shall never cease. That is a promise.
Passion. That is what makes this business. Nothing else. Not the politics, the moves, or the crowd. It’s the passion. Without it, you fall into a state of pure void like I did. Without it, I wouldn’t be here writing, you reading, or athletes putting their lives on the line every day. The passion is the point. The passion is the most important. Never lose it.
But see now after my two page ramble, what kind of match do I have to offer you? What kind of match will put the world in pause as you enter a world of emotional roller coasters with two warriors? What match have I found for you to watch in hopes of you regaining or even coming near to the passion I hold? Simple. One of the greatest TV matches of the past 5 years in my opinion. This is the type of match that backs up everything I say. I could have watched this match alone and my passion be restored like the fans love for Rock each time he returns. The emotion. The rage. The drama. The psychology. And who could forget the finish? They all make this match one of the best and one sure to prove my supposed point of the past column. Without further mindless chatter by me, the MOTC is:
Chris Benoit Vs. Brock Lesnar
And for the quote? What proves my point here? I think my favorite wrestler put it best. The passion he speaks of inadvertently is exactly my reason for this whole column. You all know it’s there, and Mark put it best. The QOTC is:
“I love the fact that I can go out there and I can affect people’s emotions. I enjoy going out there and laying it all out on the line. I like taking my body to the limit. I love what I do. For the fans that have watched me over all these years, I just hope they realize that I gave everything that I had in mind, body and spirit.”
Well, that’s it for this edition. If you have any questions, concerns, comments, or feedback, please direct to any of the two areas below, either e-mail or instant messaging. That’s all for “Column O’ Nonsense.” This is Dougie Nunny signing off and hoping I dropped your IQ lower than the amount of time I will ever go without my cherished passion again.
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