November 17, 2006
John R. Nocero

The Breakup

Breaking up with someone you love is fucking miserable. You donít live hour to hour, you live breath to breath. Every second you spend immersing yourself in the heartache, the longer it takes to get past it and move on with your life. Some donít want to, some just canít and some refuse.

When I divorced about a year or so ago, a co-worker told me that it usually takes twice as long as the tenure of the relationship that you are leaving to get over it. I donít believe that. If you really want to move on, you do. You tear every picture of the two of you in two, delete her e-mail from your address book and her cell number off your speed dial, and file the memories away in your ďfuck you bitchĒ file.

A friend of mine did just that this week, basically telling his mistress, fuck you, you donít satisfy me anymore.

I wonder if Vince McMahon is paying attention.

See, this guy, a 30-year veteran of mat war fandom, flat out quit watching wrestling this week. It had been piling up on his DVR for about a month, and he just deleted it all after watching a teaser of the Vince McMahon ass cartoon on Apparently he just had it with Vinceís egomania, and canít take what is being force-fed to him anymore.

Me, the staunch old-schooler, found myself disagreeing with him. My direct take was that Vince is to be applauded for what he has done with pro wrestling. He has found a way to make the product entertaining to people other than the diehard wrestling fan, and I am betting that if only the diehards watched, the audience would be severely limited. Vince also should be applauded for treating the fan with a bit more intelligence and try not to maintain the ridiculous notion that wrestling has ever been a legitimate sport, nor will it be in the years to come, however I may disagree with it.

I personally would love to see wrestling tilt back to the old style. I make no bones about it. Wrestling is first on the WWE marquee but way behind the storylines, merchandise sales and bra and panties matches, which are just excuses to have half naked bitches. I believe if they change back to the sport of professional wrestling it would work. But obviously the younger crowd wants to see blood, gore, tables and chairs and long-winded skits. You have to go with what is bringing you to the dance. Just look at Monday night and why they are pushing DX so hard. DX is crazy over with the younger kids and teens; hell my seven year old thinks they are the catís pajamas. DX are the real-life justice league, able to win handicapped matches, avoid backjumpings, and send the crowd home happy at the end of the night. John Cena, WWE World champ, no less, gets no promo time, is smashed by Umaga and Big Show, and is invisible for the rest of the night.

But I digress.

Obviously, I view wrestling like ballet, belief suspended as to watching an actual athletic contest, whetting my palate for another sip of chardonnay. Obviously I am willing to endure a keg stand of Schiltz to get there, because I havenít quit watching, though I said I would, and actually chuckled at times on Monday.

Obviously, he couldnít swig any more of the WWE swill. He is coming to the end of a 30-year love affair with a mistress that has always fulfilled him in ways his wife couldnít. Obviously, there is going to be some anger, which is usually in proportion to the length of the relationship, as well as the length of the dissatisfaction that led to the end of the relationship.

He wouldnít be so upset with todayís product if he hadnít loved it for so long. But isnít the first shlump to have his heart broken by a fickle whore.

The best way to get over one bitch is to get under another one. There are other whores out there to be had, TNA for instance. I hope he finds one.

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