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Continued ...

1993 - Back to where we started. Things aren't so good for the WWF. Its no longer our father's wrestling show, but no one seems to care too much who's show it is. I still love my saturday fix, but I love theatre more, and for the past three years (since my sophmore year of high school), I've been willingly giving up my saturdays (and life!) over to set construction, rehearsals, load-in's, and strikes.

Now that its my senior year of high school, I'm really pushing myself out of all bounds. Between shows at school, shows with community theatre, in-school and after-school work, pretending to go to school, and worrying about how I'll survive college in New York, I don't have much time for wrestling. Not that I really care at this point. Most of these new guys don't do sh*t for me and they haven't for almost two years.

My dad tells me that Ric Flair's quite the wrestler, but all I've seen him do is try not to get pounded by Hogan. Lex Luger: the Narcissist? No. Lex Luger: the patriot? Eh. Must I look at the Bodydonnas? The only thing about them which makes me smile is seeing Barry Horowitz pin one of them.

I'm really into the feud between Bret and Owen, and its fun to hear the crowd chant "Burger King! Burger King!", but everything else leaves me cold. Bob Backlund for President? No. And though he has a great match with the Hitman and he's obviously a hot talent, that 1-2-3 Kid just bugs me.

1993 looks bleak for the WWF. The influx of talent in the late '80s has come to a grinding halt and the few wrestlers who still trickle in make me wonder why they bother. I mean, the Smoking Gunns? And with those toy pistols? And who the hell is this guy popping out of the audience, all in black, attacking people? Jeff Jarrett's "Roadie"?

Oh please ...

I probably would have stopped watching Superstars on my own if NBC hadn't made my mind up for me by cancelling its contract with the WWF. Good-bye, Superstars. Hello, college.


1998 - I've been out of school for about a year and a half. I've bee doing theatre for about eight years. I haven't seriously watched wrestling for five years. I've seen bits and pieces and know (basically) who's who: NWO, DX, NOD, (when it was around), Stone Cold Steve Austin, Hollywood Hogan, big Jim Ross, and good old Jerry Lawler (still the king!).

For some reason or other, I've also seen some of the important bits, too. I saw the NWO form with Hollywood Hogan. I saw Steve Austin give the stunner to Santa Claus and laughed my *ss off. I saw Steve Austin give the stunner to Vince McMahon and was shocked! I see the Hitman go to WCW and know something is wrong with the world. When I hear Brian Pillman has died, its from the radio and I don't believe its real for a few days.

I attended Wrestlemania X my first year of college and went away more than happy, but other than that I had no significant wrestling experiences during my school years. Between the shows and the shows and the other shows, I barely had time to sleep much less weasel my way through college.

1998-One and a half years since graduation and I've worked on more shows than can be counted on two hands. I'm home for the holidays and on the cusp of a new show, which I worry about constantly. Its Monday night and its time for RAW and rather than fret in my old room, I wat RAW Is WAR with my dad and brothers. Its like old times, except I don't know what the hell's going on.

The first thing I think as I watch is "Huh?". Vince McMahon's not announcing? The Corporate Team? The New Age Outlaws? "Pimpin' Ain't Easy"? Neither's trying to understand this show.

I see Shawn Michaels become commissioner. I see the New Age Outlaws not become corporate. I learn to love Socko. I slowly get back into the groove.

Then it happens again.

to be concluded ...