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05-26-2011, 09:47 PM
Legacies: Remembering the Best, Forgetting the Rest
by David Craddock
Randy "Macho Man" Savage was a Superstar whose larger-than-life persona transcended the confines
of the WWE ring. His 30-year career left an indelible mark on WWE history, as well as pop culture.
-- WWE Tribute Video to Randy "Macho Man" Savage, 5/23/2011
When Randy Savage passed away on Friday, May 20, the world took notice. I'm not talking about the wrestling world, although we will certainly mourn this iconic warrior for a long time to come. No, I'm talking about the world outside the ring. TMZ, ABC, The Washington Post, Fox, The New York Times, ESPN, The New York Post, Yahoo, and The Chicago Tribune were several of countless outlets that spread the tragic news like wildfire. Many sports analysts and commentators, most of whom typically discuss professional wrestling with same air of constrained tolerance most adults use when conversing with an overly enthusiastic child, put aside their misconceptions and reminisced about the Macho Man. On Facebook and Twitter, individuals who'd never so much as breathed the word "wrestling" to any but their closest friends posted favorite matches, pictures, and words of remembrance.
Wrestlers pass away almost every month. The wrestling world takes note of the majority of them, of course; but by and large, unless the departed wrestler committed some horrific atrocity before he or she died, the death receives a quick blip on the news (if even that much) before the anchors move on to bigger subjects--the weather, for instance. So why did Macho Man receive so much attention? What made Savage's death so newsworthy that the entire world took notice?
Simple. Savage was memorable. Savage left a mark. In an era when every wrestler stood in the titanic shadow of Hulk Hogan, the Macho Man didn't ask for the spotlight. He grabbed it and made the world pay attention. Hulk Hogan may have been the top draw for most of the 80s and early 90s, but for most wrestling fans, Macho Man's bouts with icons such as Ultimate Warrior and Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat stole their respective shows.
Other legends such as Steamboat, Warrior, and Sergeant Slaughter also managed to elbow their way to the front of the pack alongside Macho Man and Hogan. The same holds true of stars born during the wrestling boom of the 90s: Steve Austin was to the Attitude Era what Hogan was to the 80s, but countless wrestlers before and after Austin stole the show and left an impression on the business. Hell, they defined the business.
What's more, many of those men broke out of wrestling. During my flight to Atlanta for WrestleMania 27, my seatmate, a middle-aged gentleman in a suit, asked who I was most looking forward to seeing at the show. I answered "The Rock." He raised his eyebrows and said, "Oh, the actor?" That dapper fellow was no wrasslin' fan, but he'd heard of The Great One. Drop the name Hulk Hogan in conversation to pretty much anyone, and they'll probably know who you mean. Some names will always be more well known to wrestling fans than the mainstream, but during the glory days, almost anyone could put the name Bret Hart or Shawn Michaels to a face.
Which brings me to my point. I hate to sound morbid, but when guys like the Undertaker, Stone Cold, The Rock, Shawn Michaels, Bret Hart, Hulk Hogan, Mick Foley, Sergeant Slaughter, the Ultimate Warrior, Ric Flair, the Macho Man and other comparable icons pass away, the world will know about it. Not just the WWE Universe. The world. You, me, your parents--everybody.
Now look at the wrestling stars of today. John Cena, CM Punk, R-Truth, Rey Mysterio, Randy Orton, Samoa Joe, AJ Styles, The Miz, and a whole bunch of others whose names fail to spring to mind. Some of these stars shine brightly, sure. But for how long? Who except the most ardent of wrestling fans will remember these names once the men to whom they belong have passed on? Hogan made wrestling mainstream; Austin made wrestling cool. Shawn Michaels stole shows; Mick Foley broke bones--usually his own, but we loved him for it. The Rock electrified, the Undertaker sent chills down our spines. Edge created and innovated, Flair styled and profiled. Sergeant Slaughter was beloved by Americans across the nation until his infamous heel turn against Hulk Hogan. But even then, people beyond the squared circle knew his name.
These men, as well as several I can't mention because there were so many legends born during the 80s and 90s, carved out a legacy in the business. But what have their contemporaries done? John Cena's won matches and titles. Who hasn't? That's more or less what you're supposed to do when you become a wrestler. Randy Orton RKO'd a bunch of legends some years ago. And he, uh, grew a beard recently. And The Miz? Well, he's awesome. So he says, anyway.
Don't get me wrong. I don't define success by how many movies a wrestler has made, or how many Slim Jims they've snapped into, or how many times they've become New York Times bestselling authors. All the same, I won't say those things are unimportant. WWE wants their Superstars to permeate pop culture. Why else invite celebrities to guest host Raw and appear ringside at big events? Breaking into the mainstream is critical, but it's hardly the only factor to making a legend. I'll settle for wrestlers who cut memorable promos, who steal the show with incredible in-ring work and forever etch their names into my mind and the history of the business. But these days, such breakout stars pop up few and far between.
Compare the list of breakout stars in the last 11 years to the staggering roster of legends that rose to prominence during the 80s and 90s. There's no comparison, and I think the difference between those eras boils down to one key factor: passion. I won't call into question the passion and dedication of any performer. An incredible amount of hard work and discipline goes into having a single match, let alone headlining WrestleMania. But today, I don't see many Superstars demanding to be seen and heard. I see some claiming to be held back by something or another: their peers, Vince, the fans. I see most others going through the motions every week, working hard but waiting for their big break.
Waiting. Pick up the biography of any wrestling great and you'll notice most have one thing in common: those legends all but broke down the door to Vince McMahon's office and said, "I can be great. Use me." They didn't ask to become a star. They didn't wait patiently and meekly for their big push. They didn't whine and make excuses. They made Vince, their peers, and the fans take notice. In recent memory, Zach Ryder has made a huge impression on his peers and a specific vocal fan base because of his tenacity. One could make a strong argument that someone is indeed holding Zach back, but he sure as hell is trying to break out. Maybe he'll make it, maybe he won't; but he's not waiting for someone to look his way. He's grabbing destiny and doing everything he can to wrestle it to the ground and take control.
Life is fleeting. We're here and we're gone, but each of us has the opportunity to leave something memorable behind. A child, some powerful work, an influence on history, or, in the case of professional wrestlers, moments that live on among fans of the sport, as well as up-and-coming stars who make a point of studying the tapes of the greats. Randy Savage is gone, but he left something behind: a legacy of greatness that will outlast all of us, one that was not handed to him, but taken by force.
Professional wrestlers of today, tomorrow, and all generations must ask themselves: What will I be remembered for?
--
David L. Craddock is a freelance writer--and a proud member of TEAM BRING IT--who resides in California. He can be reached at [email]davidlcraddock82@gmail.com[/email].
by David Craddock
Randy "Macho Man" Savage was a Superstar whose larger-than-life persona transcended the confines
of the WWE ring. His 30-year career left an indelible mark on WWE history, as well as pop culture.
-- WWE Tribute Video to Randy "Macho Man" Savage, 5/23/2011
When Randy Savage passed away on Friday, May 20, the world took notice. I'm not talking about the wrestling world, although we will certainly mourn this iconic warrior for a long time to come. No, I'm talking about the world outside the ring. TMZ, ABC, The Washington Post, Fox, The New York Times, ESPN, The New York Post, Yahoo, and The Chicago Tribune were several of countless outlets that spread the tragic news like wildfire. Many sports analysts and commentators, most of whom typically discuss professional wrestling with same air of constrained tolerance most adults use when conversing with an overly enthusiastic child, put aside their misconceptions and reminisced about the Macho Man. On Facebook and Twitter, individuals who'd never so much as breathed the word "wrestling" to any but their closest friends posted favorite matches, pictures, and words of remembrance.
Wrestlers pass away almost every month. The wrestling world takes note of the majority of them, of course; but by and large, unless the departed wrestler committed some horrific atrocity before he or she died, the death receives a quick blip on the news (if even that much) before the anchors move on to bigger subjects--the weather, for instance. So why did Macho Man receive so much attention? What made Savage's death so newsworthy that the entire world took notice?
Simple. Savage was memorable. Savage left a mark. In an era when every wrestler stood in the titanic shadow of Hulk Hogan, the Macho Man didn't ask for the spotlight. He grabbed it and made the world pay attention. Hulk Hogan may have been the top draw for most of the 80s and early 90s, but for most wrestling fans, Macho Man's bouts with icons such as Ultimate Warrior and Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat stole their respective shows.
Other legends such as Steamboat, Warrior, and Sergeant Slaughter also managed to elbow their way to the front of the pack alongside Macho Man and Hogan. The same holds true of stars born during the wrestling boom of the 90s: Steve Austin was to the Attitude Era what Hogan was to the 80s, but countless wrestlers before and after Austin stole the show and left an impression on the business. Hell, they defined the business.
What's more, many of those men broke out of wrestling. During my flight to Atlanta for WrestleMania 27, my seatmate, a middle-aged gentleman in a suit, asked who I was most looking forward to seeing at the show. I answered "The Rock." He raised his eyebrows and said, "Oh, the actor?" That dapper fellow was no wrasslin' fan, but he'd heard of The Great One. Drop the name Hulk Hogan in conversation to pretty much anyone, and they'll probably know who you mean. Some names will always be more well known to wrestling fans than the mainstream, but during the glory days, almost anyone could put the name Bret Hart or Shawn Michaels to a face.
Which brings me to my point. I hate to sound morbid, but when guys like the Undertaker, Stone Cold, The Rock, Shawn Michaels, Bret Hart, Hulk Hogan, Mick Foley, Sergeant Slaughter, the Ultimate Warrior, Ric Flair, the Macho Man and other comparable icons pass away, the world will know about it. Not just the WWE Universe. The world. You, me, your parents--everybody.
Now look at the wrestling stars of today. John Cena, CM Punk, R-Truth, Rey Mysterio, Randy Orton, Samoa Joe, AJ Styles, The Miz, and a whole bunch of others whose names fail to spring to mind. Some of these stars shine brightly, sure. But for how long? Who except the most ardent of wrestling fans will remember these names once the men to whom they belong have passed on? Hogan made wrestling mainstream; Austin made wrestling cool. Shawn Michaels stole shows; Mick Foley broke bones--usually his own, but we loved him for it. The Rock electrified, the Undertaker sent chills down our spines. Edge created and innovated, Flair styled and profiled. Sergeant Slaughter was beloved by Americans across the nation until his infamous heel turn against Hulk Hogan. But even then, people beyond the squared circle knew his name.
These men, as well as several I can't mention because there were so many legends born during the 80s and 90s, carved out a legacy in the business. But what have their contemporaries done? John Cena's won matches and titles. Who hasn't? That's more or less what you're supposed to do when you become a wrestler. Randy Orton RKO'd a bunch of legends some years ago. And he, uh, grew a beard recently. And The Miz? Well, he's awesome. So he says, anyway.
Don't get me wrong. I don't define success by how many movies a wrestler has made, or how many Slim Jims they've snapped into, or how many times they've become New York Times bestselling authors. All the same, I won't say those things are unimportant. WWE wants their Superstars to permeate pop culture. Why else invite celebrities to guest host Raw and appear ringside at big events? Breaking into the mainstream is critical, but it's hardly the only factor to making a legend. I'll settle for wrestlers who cut memorable promos, who steal the show with incredible in-ring work and forever etch their names into my mind and the history of the business. But these days, such breakout stars pop up few and far between.
Compare the list of breakout stars in the last 11 years to the staggering roster of legends that rose to prominence during the 80s and 90s. There's no comparison, and I think the difference between those eras boils down to one key factor: passion. I won't call into question the passion and dedication of any performer. An incredible amount of hard work and discipline goes into having a single match, let alone headlining WrestleMania. But today, I don't see many Superstars demanding to be seen and heard. I see some claiming to be held back by something or another: their peers, Vince, the fans. I see most others going through the motions every week, working hard but waiting for their big break.
Waiting. Pick up the biography of any wrestling great and you'll notice most have one thing in common: those legends all but broke down the door to Vince McMahon's office and said, "I can be great. Use me." They didn't ask to become a star. They didn't wait patiently and meekly for their big push. They didn't whine and make excuses. They made Vince, their peers, and the fans take notice. In recent memory, Zach Ryder has made a huge impression on his peers and a specific vocal fan base because of his tenacity. One could make a strong argument that someone is indeed holding Zach back, but he sure as hell is trying to break out. Maybe he'll make it, maybe he won't; but he's not waiting for someone to look his way. He's grabbing destiny and doing everything he can to wrestle it to the ground and take control.
Life is fleeting. We're here and we're gone, but each of us has the opportunity to leave something memorable behind. A child, some powerful work, an influence on history, or, in the case of professional wrestlers, moments that live on among fans of the sport, as well as up-and-coming stars who make a point of studying the tapes of the greats. Randy Savage is gone, but he left something behind: a legacy of greatness that will outlast all of us, one that was not handed to him, but taken by force.
Professional wrestlers of today, tomorrow, and all generations must ask themselves: What will I be remembered for?
--
David L. Craddock is a freelance writer--and a proud member of TEAM BRING IT--who resides in California. He can be reached at [email]davidlcraddock82@gmail.com[/email].
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