Fall of a Titan

Most of you had probably heard about Harold Camping's bold prediction last weekend that May 21st would be the end of the world. For one great man it was. The great Macho Man Randy Savage died of a heart attack/ car accident last week in Florida and took a little piece of me with him to heaven.

I remember when I first saw the Macho Man wrestle back in March 1988 in my parent’s basement. I was only 5 years old and already on a steady diet of dew and slim jims which of course helped mold me into the Adonis I am today. His challenger was none other than the almighty Hulk Hogan, a paragon of the 80s second only to Reagan. Like the truest fans of the sport, rare outside of Conyers, I preferred Savage to Hogan. Hogan was all style and no substance. Savage won the match by cheating but of course taught me an important moral lesson that sticks with me to this day. Sometimes you have to do what others are not willing to if you want to make it to the top. That is how I live my life.

With a torrent of emotions, I pushed ahead on the trail with breakneck speed. I covered about a quarter mile in five minutes. I was kicking ass and taking names, but then as I cut a turn like Apolo Ohno, I hit a surface tree root and went flying. My ankle was killing me and I may have stubbed my toe. I stayed down on the ground for a few minutes with the weight of my pack crushing me. I needed to get to the hospital, but could not move.

As I lay down, defeated, I could feel myself losing consciousness. I saw the feature match from Wrestlemania III with incredible detail. Because I had watched the match between Macho Man and Steamboat 30-40 times, and I have a photographic memory, the entire match coursed through my mind. I knew this match better than Tim knows his right hand, reliving each blow and fall to the mat as if I was there myself. Just as the bell rang announcing Macho Man’s win electricity ran through my body and I jolted back to life. I heard Macho Man speak directly to my soul. There is no giving up Brent. If anyone knows that, it should be you. Oh yea!

With superhuman strength I lifted myself up from the ground and hobbled forward. Just like pro athletes, it takes more than steel chairs, ankle locks, and exposed tree roots to finish me. In my toughest hike yet, I covered almost two miles on my bad ankle and finally reached the road.

I have been at the Holiday Inn for the past 72 hours. I am going to take it easy until my ankle recovers as I don't want a repeat of the 2009 fiasco. A few hours of Wrestlemania highlights should give me the strength needed to push on tomorrow, and the fortitude to forget what happened last week.