Even though I was wise to the ways of kayfabe by this point, the storyline hit me close to home, and only served to strengthen my support for El Paso’s favourite son. The build to this encounter was pretty heavy at the time: uber-heel Brock Lesnar would be out each week on SmackDown chastising “Latino Heat” with cries of “Addict!”, while a fiery-eyed Eddie spoke of “taking the title being the only high he needed” – powerful stuff. The tale of this cruiserweight warrior overcoming not only a brute of an opponent, but his own battles with the bottle was something that resonated with every fibre of my being. I had grown up with a mother and father whose alcoholism was chronic (and no, I’m not referring to Bryan Clarke’s WCW tag team). Along with many fans around the world and 11,000 screaming onlookers at the Cow Palace in Daly City, California, all seemed to be right with the world when that final bell sounded. On February 15th, 2004, I got to witness my favourite wrestler kick in the proverbial door, smash that old glass ceiling, and take his place among the men to have worn the WWE Championship. The industry itself exists in a realm somewhere between the confines of fantasy and reality, and can serve as a form of sanctuary for fans who might be weighed down by the various stresses and troubles that life can bring.
BROCK LESNAR ON EDDIE GUERRERO PRO
Pro wrestling has long been described as “escapism” – a way of pushing our personal problems to the side for a moment so we can revel in our passions. Look at this life – all mystery and magic.” “I am a great admirer of mystery and magic.
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