Posted in: The Northern Star The Northern Star--Drugs or Jesus(A Testimonial): Director's Cut
By XanMan
Sep 11, 2005 - 6:36:14 PM
{Argument: It occurs to me that many of you who are reading The Northern Star for the first time may wonder why you should give a damn about what I think about the sport of kings. I didn't want to lead off with this column, because it's one I actually wrote in February for the most part, and to start with a re-post seems in poor taste. While I have actually had something I've written appear here on the Main Page around ten times before, that doesn't mean I'm well known to you. I think you may like me to introduce myself, and you are certainly entitled to that. I could never write a better picture of who I am than what this column reflects, so I have decided to go ahead and use this as your introduction to who Xan is. However, I would like to add that this is not a straight re-post. People are not stagnant, they are ever changing. Such is life for all of us, and mine is no different. If you read Drugs or Jesus before, I would encourage you to take another look, as the ending of this story has changed somewhat from the original version simply because life goes on.}
"It's been way too long since I spoke my confession. My heart has a burden, I hope you will listen. Oh, you're my sanctuary."--John Berry
In case any of you ever had a doubt, neither Xan, XanMan, nor Xandertaker is my real name. I, Shane Sebunia, was born March 4, 1975 in Indianapolis, IN. I was baptized Catholic 6 months later and spent the next 4 years of my life living in SHAPE Belgium. By the time we moved back to Indiana in September 1979, two more Sebunia boys had been born--Trav and Nic. After going to a daycare center for Kindergarten, I began going to Sacred Heart Elementary School in Jeffersonville, IN. It was a parochial school, meaning it was private Catholic, in case that word's over your head. I didn't know what it meant, for a long time, because I ever called them Catholic Schools.
Being at one of these schools meant several things. The first thing is that it meant we had to wear uniforms. Boys had to wear dark blue slacks and light blue shirts. Either button up or polo shirts; no jeans. Girls had to wear one of those lovely plaid skirts, a white shirt, possibly a red button-up sweater. A cardigan, if you will. If you've seen that Britney Spears video "Baby, One More Time"(I know you have, Steve), you know exactly what I'm talking about. It also meant that we learned about God in the classroom and went to church. I don't think it was every day, but it was at least a couple times a week. It also meant some of our teachers were nuns. What it did *not* mean, was that the kids were any different.
We were sent to that school by our parents, presumably, because they wanted us to learn about God at the same time we were learning our educational lessons. What I found out were that they were the ones that gave a damn about God. We were interested in being kids, which for some meant bullying others. I happened to be one of the others. I'm sure a lot of you were, as well. I'm not trying to whine. What I'm trying to point out is basic human nature. The strong prey on the weak. Kids will be kids. Boys will be boys. Catholic or not. This is the first time I started questioning my belief in God. As a 10 year old kid, to my sorrow.
{Interlude 1: I've tried Jesus, I've tried alcohol, I've tried cigarettes(finally), and I've contemplated drugs. But, professional wrestling is the one material thing that gives me a lasting high, and it's always been there for me when I've needed something to cheer me up and get me through the hard times. Whether it's become such a passion for me because it's always been there at hard times for me or whether it's been there through hard times for me because it's a passion, well, that's probably just semantics. But, the fact remains that I've been helped through tough periods by my love of professional wrestling.}
"Everybody wants acceptance, we all just want some proof. Everyone's just looking for the truth."--Tim McGraw
My interest in wrestling began in early 1988 during my Dad's 3-year tour of duty in South Korea. At first, it wasn't interest, it was distaste. My brothers had both been watching for a couple of weeks, and when they told me that, I scoffed. Being a worldly child of 13, I haughtily informed them that wrestling was fake and that they shouldn't be wasting their time watching it. Trav told me to just give it a try, so I did. I sat down and watched with every intention of hating it, because I simply knew I was right. I was wrong. I loved it. That first Superstars of Wrestling I watched The Hart Foundation defeat The British Bulldogs--well, technically, just Davey Boy Smith--for the WWF Tag Titles, and I was hooked as a Hitman fan for life. After seeing some old NWA stuff, I'm not convinced that if I had first seen Ric Flair vs. Dusty Rhodes the same would have held, and without Hulk Hogan I probably never would have kept watching, but Bret's what got me hooked and the "carnival" or "circus" atmosphere of the World Wrestling Federation that's so derided is probably what kept me glued to the sport.
That period in my life--the 3 years in Korea--was the first time that I went to public school. I didn't go to a Korean school; I went on base with other American kids. Instead of going to church during the school days, we went to Korean culture classes. Instead of wearing uniforms, we got to wear regular clothes. Instead of nuns teaching us, some of our educators were from foreign countries--well, technically, I guess, we were the ones from a foreign country. That's what changed. Not anything else. Kids were no more nice or more cruel in public school than they were in Catholic school. Not a great endorsement for faith, is it?
The one thing that changed in school over there is that I started to defend myself. After about 7 years of being picked on, I got sick of it and started fighting back. For some reason, I was a bully magnet. Whether it be because I was overweight, because I was quiet, because I read a lot and was attentive in class, I don't know. Maybe it was all of them. Whatever the reason, my 7th grade year was full of fights, because I wasn't going to let people just do whatever they wanted to me for their own stupid amusement. You might say, "Well good for you." Nope, not good for me. At the age of 12-13, I was coming closer to turning away from God by not turning my cheek.
Around this same time, I was an altar boy at the church in Hannam Village, where we resided. Actually, my brothers and I both were. But, we weren't supposed to be the only ones. For 6 to 8 weeks in a row, the others wouldn't show up for their turns. Guess who got stuck filling in every single week? Yup, me. My Dad got angry with me when I finally told the Father that I wasn't going to do it anymore. He told me how proud he was of me when I was an altar boy and how disappointed he was that I'd quit doing it. What he didn't understand was this: I was a young boy who didn't want to have so much responsibility laid on me. I was supposed to have faith, when those who were supposed to be my colleagues showed none. I guess you could say I was more of a follower. I wasn't going to be the only one doing it. Why? Because I was having a crisis of faith.
{Interlude 2: Above I mentioned how I became a wrestling fan. What I didn't mention is how few friends I had. Again, quiet and shy. I'm sure every military brat adapts to the constant moving differently. I hated it. I was never good at making friends, and when I finally made some and felt accepted, we were gone again. So, it was that at the time I was falling for pro wrestling one of my few friends had already left Korea and another one had decided it was more cool to join in picking on the fat kid than actually being his friend anymore. My other friends I spoke to exclusively in Boy Scouts, so I was pretty lonely much of the time. My brothers, our wrestling, and WWF wrestling were my companions during that time, and I was glad for it.}
"Wouldn't it be cool if I could fly? Get a new perspective from the sky. Ooooh, wouldn't it be cool?"--Chely Wright
That crisis continued with our move to Pennsylvania. You may have noticed that the timelines above don't quite match up and that the Harts won their tag titles in January of 1987, and you'd be correct. Because we lived overseas, everything we saw was taped and very old, so we were to get a big wrestling-style culture shock upon returning to the States in June of the same year to find the Harts had not been tag champs for nearly a year. Soon after, there was also a catholicism shock. While Trav remained an altar boy and Nic became one, I still refused. I became a "lectern" instead. I got to get up and recite lines from the Bible. I enjoyed it, although sometimes I talked too fast and stumbled over it. I was nervous, but I still did it and liked it until we approached the subject of confession in Sunday School. That was the final straw. For years I'd been going to confession and hadn't really thought about it. Just keeping to my mostly sheep ways(which makes sense since Jesus is the shepherd, right?) and not questioning. But, then someone else did. Someone else wondered aloud why we confess to a priest.
Well, I thought that was a very damned good question. When our teacher quoted the passage in the bible that the belief sprang from, I thought about it. Then I had a heated argument about it with him, where he pretty much told me we were done arguing and that he was right. I was wrong. Wow, what a way to help instill faith in a doubting member. "Because I said so, and that's just the way it is?" Well, that was pretty damned foolish, because that was the start to my entire family leaving that church. That's right. Dad, who had been so upset with me for not wanting to be an altar boy, backed me up when I told our priest that I wasn't going to lectern anymore. He said, "Well, he's been confirmed. That means he's an adult in the church's eyes and free to make his own decision."
Confirmation and Reconciliation are the two Catholic Sacraments that I have a huge problem with. My problem with Confirmation is this: everyone is ready to receive the Holy Spirit when *they're ready*. Only that person and God can know when that might be, right? It's not that all people of a certain age who have done the "right steps" are automatically ready. So, to me, it is arrogant beyond belief for a priest or a bishop to call upon God to deliver the Holy Spirit unto us when the priest says so. It was great irony that Confirmation was the reason my father defended my beliefs. Reconciliation is the same deal. It's all about the arrogance of priesthood. I don't have to confess my sins to anyone except God. If I choose to, that's my business. But to say that I *have* to for those sins to be forgiven? Bullshit of the highest order.
These were the two things that caused my faith in the Catholic Doctrine to finally break. They were also what precipitated my brothers leaving their altar service and my Dad no longer being a Eucharistic Minister(they're the guys and gals that stand by the priest handing out the little bread chips). You see, the priest was angry at Dad for telling him how he was going to run his church. He didn't like that my dad backed us up; he liked it even less that he told the priest that we weren't there to serve him, but that he was there to serve the needs of the church. Catholicism: all about ritual and power. About God? Not so much. Not in my experience.
{Interlude 3: My dad actually moved to South Korea before the rest of us did, living there for something like 4 months before we moved over there. My mom had to take care of getting our house sold, and my dad wanted to get everything set up. But, our move away from PA was going to be the first time away from my mom for any extended period. We went to school during the day, my dad was working nights, and, again, I was unable to make fast friends. What I did have, though, to occupy my time was the Undertaker and Jake Roberts being ultimate heels, Bret Hart's first Intercontinental Title reign, and Ric Flair's great initial WWF run. Not only that, but this was also during the great Dangerous Alliance era in WCW. It was a wonderful time to be a wrestling fan, especially a lonely one.}
"Everybody just wants to get high. Sit and watch a perfect world go by."--Tim McGraw
Again, taking a time jump, when we moved up from Greencastle, Pennsylvania to Biwabik, Minnesota my brothers stayed with my uncle for a few days while my Dad came down to pick me up. My mom had to stay behind for a few months working while we got settled here in the Northland. During that few days, Trav swiped a pack of my uncle's cigarettes and started smoking. Something I never would have expected of him. He offered me one, but I turned him down. I was still too much of the "good boy". I had a beer or a brandy occasionally with my dad, but I wasn't going smoke. I didn't want to get cancer, and I didn't get why anyone would want to try it, until about 12 years later.
As I said earlier, I was a shy kid. That continued through high school. I never went to any parties or anything until everyone in my graduating class was invited to one girl's grad party out in the country. Her parents had alcohol for everyone. For the first time ever, I had a few beers and some wine coolers without my parents' supervision. I felt awful about even doing that much. Still too much of the rules follower in me. I didn't believe in the drinking age, and still don't. But, I still thought I was wrong to be drinking underage. Plus, I told my parents I wouldn't drink at that party. Nothing like guilt, but the alcohol didn't really do anything for me anyway.
So, I wasn't going to smoke. Alcohol made me feel good for a few hours, but crappy after that. What's left? Drugs, which I've never tried yet. I've heard the effects of acid are great. I've never wanted to try cocaine, but it sure looks cool when they snort in the movies. Heroin? I hate needles, so I sure as shit don't want to poke myself in the arm with one. I've always wanted to try weed, though. My brothers were potheads for a while, but I always refused out of a sense that it was wrong. Now I wish I'd tried it, and wonder how I can find some just to try. I don't want to become a doper, just want to know what it's like some time. I didn't try it then, I still haven't now.
{Interlude 4: When my Uncle Ken was dying in October of 1992, I was asked by my parents to take a turn caring for him one Saturday afternoon. He had contracted cancer mere months before, and it spread like wildfire throughout his body. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't drink, I couldn't get him to communicate with me. Hell, I could barely get him to wake up. For weeks I'd been taking him down to a hospital about an hour away from chemotherapy treatments. Nothing helped him, and seeing him that way was tearing me up inside. But, since he was unwilling--or unable--to let me do anything to help him, I thought I'd kick back where I could keep an eye on him, try every so often, and see what was on TV. While flipping through the channels I happened on Superstars and Gene Okerlund announcing a new WWF Champion. It turned out to be my favorite wrestler, Bret "Hitman" Hart; one of the few times the big strap has changed hands on a house show. Even as bad as I felt about what was happening to my uncle, a little joy was able to spark in me at this sight.}
"Now I'm bound for Colorado and I'm living out in my car. I went out to find myself and I found myself in a bar."--Bruce Robison
What I did try again on my next emotional wandering was alcohol. In college, after I turned 21, I became a drinker again. I was still basically the same shy kid, had still never had a girlfriend or even a date because I was too damned chicken to ask for one. When I finally got the nerve to ask a girl to lunch, she agreed. While we were eating she told me she had a boyfriend. She was gorgeous, too. Still, she said "yes", and even though she was unable to date me, it gave me confidence. It also made me start drinking a little. See, I liked her a lot, and we started hanging out quite a bit. To want her, but not be able to have her? That sucked, and it would happen to me again later, too, but that turned out a lot better. So, I started drinking Southern Comfort/Orange Crush mixture. It was pretty damned good, but it didn't make me feel any better.
Neither did getting rejected by another girl that I was finally confident enough to ask. Her name was Teresa, she lived right across the hall, and I fell hard for her the day we met. She just had one of those killer smiles. She was always pretty, but when she smiled she was beautiful. Of course, Trav thought her best feature was her ass, but that's another argument. The point is that another pretty girl that I had feelings for decided my proper place was as a friend. And, once again, I took bittersweet refuge in Southern Comfort. But, my awkward friendship with her led me to try something the campus had to offer, which was known as Intervarsity Christian Fellowship. I went to it with her to try to get in her pants, I won't deny it. What I found there was friendship.
There I learned that Christianity can be fun. I had lived in Korea and Belgium. I had trekked through Europe. But, it was right here, in our own country that I experienced the most intense culture shock. Everything I knew about Christianity was turned on its head. These people weren't mournful, they weren't ritualistic, they didn't care when someone spoke out of turn in a service. These people didn't care about kneeling and standing at the right time. You know what they cared about? They cared about each other. They cared about God. That was powerful, that was cool. For about 2 years, I loved being there, I loved the people I met, I loved the friendship I developed. I was, in a word, happy. But, I also began to see that a lot of the things I liked I wasn't supposed to.
I wasn't supposed to lust, or at least I wasn't supposed to engage in any activity that could relieve my lust or look at materials that were lustworthy. I wasn't supposed to watch so much secular fair, like Seinfeld, like EZ Streets, like professional wrestling. There were, however, a small group of people that I met at Intervarsity that were both devout Christians and wrestling fans. So, it seems it isn't mutually exclusive, but there were at that time, and still are today, a lot of things going on at RAW that are offensive to Christian beliefs. I was able to look past that, as were Kevin and Dave, but a lot of our brothers and sisters didn't get it, and told us it was a bad thing to watch.
{Interlude 5: While our fellowship remained intact, however, we went to see several wrestling events live. At a house show, Chris Jericho was wrestling Eddie Guerrero and the crowd broke out in a "U-S-A chant". Immediately upon it ending, Kevin and I started our own chant: "Can-a-da, Can-a-da, Can-a-da", and got the loudest boos of the night. It was great. Another time, we went to the only WCW Monday Nitro that originated from Duluth, MN. We brought giant DDP hands, the purple and gold W-C-W, and one more sign I can't remember. They all got on TV, though, as we were in the 3rd row on the floor. But, the best part was that when "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan came to the ring, I turned my back and refused to watch him perform; while Kevin--despite also hating Duggan--took out a handkerchief that was a miniature American flag and waved it in his honor. What a sell-out.}
"There's not much space between us. Drugs or Jesus."--Tim McGraw
I was once again faced with a crisis of faith that I've never really gotten over. These fun, happy people really believed that reading the Bible instead of watching television or doing physically the things their body cried out for was the right way to go. They, apparently, believed in the same God that the Catholics believe in, although they celebrate it where Catholicism doesn't. I couldn't then, and I still can't come to terms with the idea of a loving God who gives us a million things we aren't supposed to do and punishes us with eternal fire and pain if we continue to do them. What kind of a God is that? That's not loving. It's cruel.
I know this is going to start a debate, and though it isn't my goal, I'm fine with it. I'm not trying to knock organized religion, especially Christianity. I know there are plenty of people who get through each day because of their faith in God, and that's great. More power to them. It's just that I feel like I put a lot of myself into Christianity at two different times in my life and never got much from it. To those that do, who feel a personal relationship with Christ and God, or even Allah, I am glad for you and wish you well. I've never done drugs, alcohol didn't do much for me, I've tried smoking, and while that can calm me down sometimes it isn't a long term fix. And, probably it shouldn't be. It would be nice if everything out there was "happy, happy joy joy", but it's not. And, I, at times feel things in the world tugging me down. For whatever reason, I've never really felt like the Lord was lifting me up. There are things in the world that do, of course.
Music is a huge source of enjoyment for me. Whether I'm listening to a sad country song, power rock ballads, or rap, it usually fills me with enjoyment. You might find it odd that a sad song can raise my spirits, but it can. I look at the beauty and feeling that go into it, and also often at how cleverly it's written. The same goes for Eminem songs. Say what you will about Marshall Mathers, but his rhymes are ingenius. Even when he's speaking about horrible things, you can't help but admire the way he says them and respect his genius and talent. I can't imagine what my life would be like without music.
I also can't imagine what it would be like without my family. My parents and brothers are always as supportive and helpful to me as they possibly can be. They're always great. My wife, as much as we argue, is always there for me when I really need her, also. I know there are people out there that don't have anyone, and I can't imagine getting through life without this support system I have around me. Friends, family, even you guys on the net are all great; even when we disagree on everything under the sun. As I've said several times in different columns, I am grateful for the IWC and the friends I've met there that can discuss the one other thing that really gives me a high.
{Interlude 6: The last time I've been to a major wrestling event was SummerSlam 1999. It was me, Trav, and Kevin. That night we got to see the second, and to this point last, Lion's Den match. We watched every title in the WWF change hands, including Mick Foley winning his 3rd and final WWF Championship. We didn't do anything funny or crazy that night, but it marked another moment of transition for me, as the sign that I brought that night--that I've been told was seen on camera but that I couldn't catch upon watching the replays--simply asked my then-girlfriend to marry me. She said yes, by the way.}
"We're all looking for love and meaning in our lives. We follow the roads that lead us to drugs or Jesus."--Tim McGraw
As I think I've shown throughout this history, wrestling has always been there for me whenever I've needed it. When I've been down, it's always been some angle, wrestler, or feud in wrestling that has helped cheer me up. I'm not saying that a higher power wasn't ever there in the background, very possibly he was. I'm also not saying that I could've gotten through it without the people around me. What I'm saying is that to me drugs, alcohol, religion, cigarettes; they don't do much for me. What I've always found comfort and solace in is wrestling. As I detailed in a couple earlier columns, I once took a 6 months break from it. I felt guilty about it, truthfully. Like I was leaving an old, dear, reliable friend.
Wrestling is not my God. I'm not trying to imply that at all. Rather, it's my passion and my crutch. I think all of us need something to fall back on. Something we can always rely on to entertain us and to cheer us up when the going gets rough. I'd like to be more self reliant. I'd like to believe I can get myself through any problem without having to rely on anyone or anything. But, I know I can't. I know I need support from my wife and from my family. From my friends. I also know that when rough spots hit in my life, I'm always going to want to kick back and watch some sweaty men yell and scream and beat the bloody hell out of each other. It relaxes me. Hey, I'm a complex guy, with very interesting emotions. But, the one thing I want to make clear here is while I need wrestling, and I'm a fan of it; and though I believe Bret Hart was right when he said, "Madison Square Garden isn't a church, but it is holy ground.", it isn't my religion. I love it, but I don't worship it.
As a fan, at times I've been a poor friend to wrestling. As I mentioned, I once took a 6-month break from it because I hated the politics in WCW and because what was happening in the WWF wasn't interesting me. I've since returned, and I watch both Smackdown and RAW regularly. I stopped watching TNA regularly when it was on FSN, not because I didn't like the wrestling I saw there, but because it was too much infomercial. They trimmed some of the ads, and the program became nearly as watchable as the matches, but then the plug was pulled on it. I've caught it a few times on FSN, but usually rely on my buddy, 1,000,000 BC in his awesome recaps during his column. I will renew watching it in earnest on October 1, and hopefully many of you will join me. One of my goals upon the original writing of this was to get back to being closer to a fan than a critic. I think I've done that, though it took some growing pains, including actually abandoning this column for a few weeks in favor of trying something new. Sometimes you don't know what you got, til it's gone, but luckily in my case I was able to easily retrieve it.
{Final interlude: Last February I started a new job with Delta Dental Plan of Minnesota. Four days before my two-week notice was up, seven days before I started my new job, my wife lost hers. It was a very trying time for us. We still had 4 months to go at our house in Duluth, but my new job was in Gilbert, which is about an hour away. So, I stayed at my parents' house during the week and went to visit her on weekends. We had major issues during that time to the point that I was getting very depressed again, and we contemplated splitting. Instead of seeking solace in another woman, I was again comforted by wrestling, especially at Wrestlemania XX when Triple H tapped his ass off and Chris Benoit won his first World Heavyweight Title. A year and a half later, we're still together and trying to grow stronger.}
"I'm on my way. I'm on my way. Home sweet home."--Motley Crue
Yet another thing that wrestling has given me. I'm not always going to like everything that is going on. That's impossible. But, what I can do is sit back as a fan and watch, and not as a critic and speculate. I enjoy it a lot more that way, both in the watching and in the writing. It hasn't been easy lately, with two of my favorites in Chris Jericho and Triple H currently off my TV, watching the continual de-push of one of my favorites in Shelton Benjamin, and seeing the lame duck that is Batista headlining Smackdown, and having Shawn Michaels dash my hopes of another incredible heel run by reverting back to the side of good. However, there are still good things there to balance them out.
For one thing, Chris Benoit's emergence once again in the WWF. He had an incredible World Title run last year on RAW, and then got relegated to the midcard. As I write this, it now appears that the Smackdown writers are planning on making him into the tough-as-nails, unstoppable competitor that he was throughout 2004, as he's squashed Orlando Jordan twice in less than 60 total seconds. Chris Jericho appears to have helped John Cena considerably and lit a fire under him, because he was even stellar squashing Tyson Tomko this past Monday on RAW. Two new tagteams have appeared in the forms of Regal/Burchill and Cade/Murdoch and both teams will probably hold the gold by the time the calendar year flips. Chris Masters is getting better week by week, and finally, of course, we have the continued feud of the year in the heartfelt Rey Rey vs. Eddie Guerrero saga.
But, even more than these are the fact that Mellisa and I are getting along the best we ever have. Instead of sniping and snarling at each other, we are doing what a husband and wife should do: working together as a team to resolve issues and problems our family is having; whether financial, emotional, whatever. Recently, we each started working a second job, so our time together is limited and it's a joy that the time we have together is normally spent in a loving state, rather than fighting. We are both less tense, because due to the additional income we are no longer struggling to survive and we can actually afford both the things we need and the things we want. The latter includes wrestling dvds for me and ER seasons for her. We don't have so much stress weighing us down any longer, and it seems right now our love for each other has overcome. I'm glad for that.
As I mentioned so many times above, I was able to use wrestling as a crutch to get me back on my emotional feet. If it wasn't watching RAW or Smackdown, it was my wife and children's gifts of the Benoit, Flair, RVD, and Mick Foley DVDs. If it wasn't those, it was TNA or Zuma giving me the address to watch some Ring of Honor. So, my crutch didn't fail me, and I will try my best to not fail it. But, I have more to thank than that. I have love. I know some of you are probably retching right now, but it's proved a powerful thing for Mellisa and Shane, whether it's our own for each other, or that shown to us by our families and friends. Drugs or Jesus? You can keep them. Love and wrestling, wrestling and love. Those are the things that have been my support. I don't know where I'd be without one or the other. Both have led me back home again.
Long days, pleasant nights
The Comment Box
As I said last week, the one thing I will surely miss from my tenure in the Columns Forum is reading and replying to all the feedback that I've received over the years. Praise and criticism have helped me become the writer that I am in equal measures. While I can't correspond here as I would there, I offer this: I will choose the best 2 to 4 pieces of feedback I get, whether by email to XanManX@hotmail.com, by PM, or by leaving me feedback in the LOP Feedback Forum. Those pieces will receive full or partial posting(depending on circumstance) right here and a public response to each. For those that don't get selected for that, I will do my best to respond to each one of you that lets me know what you think, whether good, bad, or indifferent.
Nodachi writes:
First of all, congratulations on making it to the front page, lord knows you deserve it!
Destiny, what an unusual topic. Can any wrestler truly be 'destined' for anything in a fictional sport? I'd have to say no, not really. Some might say guys like the Rock or Randy Orton were destined for greatness because they grew up in the business. To those people I would point out David Flair, who also grew up around wrestling but will (probably) never attain any kind of greatness.
I believe that in wrestling, as in real life, one makes his own destiny. Just looking at the guys you made predictions for;
Batista: This is a guy who has the size and look to go far but never did until he was hooked up with HHH and Rick Flair. Why is this? Simple, these two took note of Batista's work ethic and willingness to learn how to improve. In short, it was his own hard work that got him over. Whether or not he can continue to be successful will depend on him, will he be able to evolve his character or will he go the way of the Ultimate Warrior? (That was a great comparison, btw, I had never thought of it that way but you were quite right.)
Shelton Benjamin: What a great talent! Like you, he has become one of my favorites to watch. The only thing he is missing is the mic skills. If he can just learn to express himself outside of the ring (his personality shines through in the ring) he will become a top star, but it is up to him to make that effort.
Cena: He, IMO, is a mirror image of Shelton, great on the mic but limited in the ring. We've heard rumors that his work ethic and willingness to learn suck. If those are true then he'll not have much more staying power, at least not once HHH comes back (the man might be an asshole but he does seem to recognize hard work.) Like the others, it'll be up to Cena to overcome his shortcomings.
In each case it is up to the wrestler to make his own destiny through hard work.
This was a great main page debut and I love the fact that you took the time to point readers to the columns forum, real classy sir!
I will be pointing readers to the best of the Columns Forum every week in Points of Light. That's where every single member of the Main Page got their start, and there are still excellent writers down there. The future of this page is probably writing down there right now, so why not give the people a taste of what's to come, as well as giving back to the community that helped me grow as a writer?
Thank you for the congratulations, now onto the feedback itself:
Actually, part of my point was that the destiny belongs to the characters and not the men themselves, so in that sense, yes, destiny does exist in professional wrestling. Wasn't Frodo destined to destroy the One Ring, just as Roland was destined to reach The Dark Tower? I think they were, but destined in the minds of the author and the reader. In the same way, the destiny of the wrestler is the result of the will of the worker within, the fans, and the promoters. All play a role(no pun intended) in where that character will lead.
Batista: It's not just his character he needs to work on, it's his move-set. He's too much the power-beast, and he's methodical while doing it. He's the hoss's hoss to a fault and he needs some variety in his game. Even Sid had some.
Benjamin: Well said, I agree.
Cena: It appears to me that Cena is either over that unwillingness to work or he's stepped up to the challenge posed by working with such greats as Angle and Jericho. I guess we'll see which once his feud with Angle's over and the next challenger steps up. I doubt Triple H would be the next opponent for him, as either Trips or Michaels will likely face Cena at 'Mania XXII, but it's certainly possible. Thanks for the strong feedback.
Zuma420 writes:
Hell yeah, right on, 'bout time.
Xan, you deserved this my friend. Big time. It's been a while coming, but I think that now is a great time for this to have occurred. The main page is shaping up to be a special place, and you'll make some great contributions to it. Your style should be a good contrast to Steve's and Random's.
The title made me smile. While you talked about Orton's destiny, and Cena's destiny, and everyone else, in the end, this column was about one man's desire to achieve the destiny that he longed for. It was really about one man's determination to achieve a goal that he set for himself a long time ago.
That man was you.
Congrats.
While my style may be a nice contrast to those guys, I think a lot of the times the three of us tend to look more on the positive side of things, which really is something that has seemed to be missing for a while. That negative IWC attitude doesn't usually hold much sway with any of the three of us(4 counting Dream), and I think that's a grand thing. I appreciate the support, buddy.
Yeah, that title was kind of a swerve, wasn't it? I'd pat myself on the back, but you did it for me. I can't imagine it'll be too long until you're up here, as well.
RIPBossman or as I call him Ripper, the current Columnist of the Month, writes:
I thought this column could have used less examples and more talking about what you thought destiny truly was. But that's just my opinion. The column was great none the less. You're right, Triple H truly has filled the shoes of Ric Flair.
Congrats on making it to the main page. You've deserved it for a very long time now.
I wasn't interested in exploring the definition of destiny, Ripper, but merely whether it truly has a place in the world of wrestling. I think it's possible one day people will see Ric Flair as being the model for Triple H, which is really kind of sad.
And, congrats yourself for the big COTM win!
Stinger writes:
A fitting column to debut on the main page with, and one that I dug greatly. I actually liked the usage examples better than if you would have just said what you thought destiny is.
The Triple H part had to be my favorite part of the column. I have to agree with everything you said about The Game there.
Good, I'm glad you got what I was trying to do. I think destiny is much more interesting to look at in context than merely as an abstract idea. And while I could have discussed the destiny Hulk Hogan achieved, it's far more timely to see how Triple H has possibly not just become the new Flair, but actually surpassed him. To my mind, Triple H is a more rounded competitor than Flair, though I'm sure I'll get a lot of hate mail for that one.
You can send any comments by email to me at XanManX@hotmail.com with the words "Northern Star" or "feedback" in the subject line or you can click here to leave feedback if you're a member of The Lop Forums.
