… she’ll say it always takes someone dying for me to blog.

The truth is, of course, that for once, I didn’t have anything to say. Because there was so much already being said. Because the media had pounced on this story due to its combination of celebrity, tragedy, sensationalism and ultimately bizarre-ness.

I’m talking about the death of Chris Benoit, his wife Nancy and son Daniel.

Nothing I say now will change the fact that the circumstances surrounding their deaths are beyond unusual and may never be resolved. All I wanted to say about his storied career, especially how he raised up the WWE belt in Singapore back in 2002, my friend THEXhas already said on his blog. Go check it out.

RIP Chris Benoit
1967-2007

In all of professional wrestling, there has never been one man who has inspired me more. This was a guy who, despite being a monster and fighting Hulk Hogan (arguably the most popular man in pro wrestling history), continued to impress me every time he came to the ring. I even insisted on choosing his character everytime I was at the arcade. I may have become a Kane fan later, but this man played arguably the first pro wrestling character I truly adored.

His name was John Tenta, but most peope know him as Earthquake.

About a year ago, he was diagnosed with bladder cancer, one that he seemed to be steadily recovering from. He was upbeat, excited about each new day and truly looked right on the road to recovery. It was around this time that I got to learn of the human side of him and how this giant of a man had a heart filled with love that was larger than anyone else’s. He spoke fondly and with much humour of his days as a professional wrestler, and even agreed to write the foreword of the Wrestlecrap book. I even recall how at one point he was promoting mangosteen juice and how he credited that drink for improving his health.

Two weeks ago, a close friend of his informed the internet wrestling community that Tenta’s condition had taken a turn for the worst, and on June 7th, John Tenta passed away at the age of 42, leaving behind his wife and three children.

It’s hard to fully describe the impact John Tenta had on my life. I know most could not begin to appreciate it. But if there’s anything I’m glad for, its that his suffering is over and that he is now resting in peace. In addition, his gentle and giving nature has no doubt earned him a lot of fans and friends who are joining in support for his widow and family. But most of all, I’m grateful that in a world where pro wrestlers tend to resort to vice to relieve the immense amounts of stress they endure, John Tenta was able to rise above it all and live his life to the fullest.

Rest in Peace, John “Earthquake” Tenta. You will always be larger than life to me.

This post was originally written here by me last night and is reproduced below in its entirety.

I live in Singapore, so I literally woke up this Monday to the news of Eddie’s passing. Almost 12 hours later, and I still don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet. Eddie Guerrero was permanently entertaining (which is hard for any wrestler to be). In the ring, out of it, in person, in or out of character.

Much of Eddie’s magic comes from how real he is to fans. I still remember his little feud with The Rock, and how he spoke about how his daughters idolised him and not their own father. You couldn’t tell if Eddie was acting, or if he really was hurt by his childrens’ actions. That was how good Eddie was. He blurred the lines of reality and entertainment, and we ate up every word.

In the ring, Eddie was THE man to watch. In tag team competition, he was always the bigger star, but you never felt it. It was part of Eddie’s wonderful humility to see him never once upstage his partner, whether it was Chavito, Tajiri or Rey Rey. In singles competition, he defined the art of sports-entertainment. Face or heel, he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. He paid his dues and earned every title he got. I’m glad he stood tall with Chris Benoit at Wrestlemania XX.

Here in Singapore, we’re three weeks behind on WWE programming… so I’ll get to see Eddie in action for another two weeks, including his last televised match. It’ll be surreal.

R.I.P. Eddie Guerrero, may angels guide your way to Heaven.

So many things to get excited about in the span of a day.

Yesterday night’s entertainment began with meeting the movie gang (sans kakita and raydance) to watch the French “docu-drama” March of the Penguins. Truth be told, I came into the cinema with a relatively open mind about the whole thing. I had read horror reviews about how the French narration was nauseating and rambling, and how the soundtrack was just…. yeah well, words don’t describe it.

And indeed, when the opening song began, the 5 of us simply burst into laughter. Controlled giggles notwithstanding, I felt like I was in some really inane arthouse movie. Perhaps I was. I hate to reveal my lack of culture and appreciation for French filmmaking, but it was generally not a inspiring start to the movie.

Don’t get me wrong. I am amazed by penguins, with Emperor Penguins being the most awesome birds I’ve ever had the good fortune to see up close. Much of the movie was a real visual treat, depicting the whole flock of over a hundred penguins simply crossing vast areas to get to their breeding ground, the Oamok. Taking a decidedly romantic twist, March then chronicles a year in the life of a penguin couple, beginning with their mating ritual, to the birth of their child, to the eventual independence of the chick.

One supposes that in the end, a documentary will generally succeed if it involves some of the most astonishing filmography in recent memory. One is constantly reminded that these scenes are very, VERY real, and that the cameramen and the rest of the crew spent a whole year, braving the same Antartic winds that the penguins faced. The images are undoubtedly more unique even compared to any documentary that National Geographic or the Discovery Channel can produced. The underwater shots, in particular, are absolutely fascinating.

On a whole, though, the “Frenchness” of the movie still sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s overtly romantic feel and saccharine-sweet delivery detract from an otherwise visually stunning flick.

Post-movie saw us sending azuresque and Mel home before direcow and I headed down to Greg’s place to try out his new game Day of Reckoning 2 for the GameCube. Man, I tell you, it was one of the best WWE games in a LOOOOOOOOOONG time.

Not really sure what else to say now… *lol* It was late when we finished our fourth triple-threat match, and then Greg had to switch off the GC without saving. Not that we earned a lot of money in the first place…

Okay, that’s about all the enthusiasm I can muster.

Wrestlers flare up ahead of World Wrestling Superstars Challenge, by Patwant Singh

Normally, I would be overjoyed at this news. Seeing independent wrestlers (that is, not contracted to the WWE) live has been a dream of mine ever since I took a vested interest the the pro wrestling world. Getting a chance to see them go all out, not hindered by the infamous “WWE style” was something I could only hope for. And here, on December 16th, was my opportunity.

Even when I realised the line-up was filled with has-been and cannot-make-it wrestlers, I still jumped at the chance to see them live. Until I saw the ticket prices.

S$150, S$100, S$80, S$60, S$40

Now hold it just one second… they’re actually cheaper than last year’s WWE tickets! Indeed, I can now get a ringside seat for the same amount I paid last year. The difference? I’m guessing the crowd will be no where near the size we saw last year.

Many might remember the Honky Tonk Man - after all, he is the greatest Intercontinental Champion of all time or the Powers of Pain - those Legion of Doom/Road Warriors rip-off. But who remembers the One Man Gang? Or, for that matter, Curtis Hughes? Heck, I’d be surprised if any one still remembers Gangrel (although, arguably that was one of the more recent creations of the WWE). Then there’s Wrestlecrap gimmicks like Doink the Clown making an appearance, and WWE rejects like Bull Buchannan (formerly known as B-squared).

No offence to them, but m0st are past their prime. Some never had a prime to begin with.

The only thing going for the whole show… is that this is the climax of their Malaysia tour, and it’s going to end with WWE hopeful Navajo Warrior going 1-on-1 against an unknown wrestler in a Indian Cage Deathmatch. In other words, lots of gore, lots of blood and many many sick spots. I hope. Because if they don’t bleed, then there’s no entertainment, since Navajo Warrior has been reported to be worse than the worst the WWE has currently employed.

Did I mention that there’s also going to be women’s wrestling? Proper women’s wrestling? Between the 11-year veteran Lady Victoria (not to be confused with Lisa Marie Varon, aka WWE’s Victoria) and rookie Venus? Apparently there’s also unknowns Venom and Charr Star. Whoo-pee-doo.

If the wrestlers were expecting a huge Singapore crowd, then they’re going to be disappointed. Most people have already spent all their parents’ money voting for Singapore Idol.

UPDATE: Apparently the show has been cancelled. Oh well.

It’s frightening. It’s scary. But there’s another one who bit the dust.

RIP, Ray Traylor.

You played one of my favourite childhood wrestling characters and you will be sorely missed.

It’s funny. I’ve been a closet fan of Glen Jacobs for the longest time. He’s been one of two men who’ve truly influenced the way I watch professional wrestling today, the other being Dwayne Johnson, aka The Rock. But while The Rock’s charisma and improvised humour may endear him to many pro-wrestling fans worldwide, Glen Jacobs has a rather different kind of following - almost a cultic following.

That’s because for the past seven years, Glen Jacobs has been better known as the monster named Kane.

This is not the first time I’m writing about Kane. A quick check shows that almost two years ago, I penned a pretty naive write-up about the newly formed HurriKane team (The Hurricane and Kane). Much has changed since then. In 2003, Kane finally lost his mask and revealed the greatest secret so carefully guarded in 6 years - the face of Kane. (Of course, Glen Jacobs had appeared unmasked many times before, but well, it just wasn’t the same as seeing the monster himself unmasked.)

His unmasking led to a whole tirade of angst and shame - which finally erupted in anger unleashed. He has destroyed wrestler after wrestler before getting beaten by a returning Undertaker at Wrestlemania XX. However, in April, the monster reared its head again, as he stalked fan favourite Diva Lita. He then competed with Matt Hardy (Lita’s onscreen and offscreen boyfriend), who simply wouldn’t give up his girl under any circumstance. All that resulted in, however, was the destruction of Matt Hardy at every possibility, until Lita agreed to a sinister agreement. She would sleep with Kane to save Matt Hardy’s life.

Matt wouldn’t have found out about the arrangement, however, if Lita hadn’t become pregnant. Last month, Kane challenged Matt Hardy to a match at Summerslam (the 2nd biggest pro-wrestling event of the year), and the winner would then be free to marry the mother-to-be. Naturally, Kane won the match, and thus, Lita was to be his bride.

As I watch the wedding unfurl last night on SuperSports, I couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic. Here was Kane’s big day. Granted, it turn out (as expected) to be a mockery of the sacrament, but seeing the look of morbid joy on the face of the monster, I couldn’t help but feel proud that he’s come this far. Here was a man who despite all the odds, despite being in the shadow of the Undertaker, despite not being the only “big man” in the company, stayed true to his character and its hellacious legacy. Just seeing him at what must be the greatest moment of the man’s life since winning the WWE Heavyweight Championship, I felt honoured to be there. I was happy for the man.

This is what I became a fan for.