Remember the good times that we had?
I let them slip away from us when things got bad
How clearly I first saw you smilin’ in the sun
Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories-Sarah Mclachlan, “I Will Remember You”
As a kid, my memory was pretty good. To this day, I can recall certain instances and reoccurring dreams from my life, as early as the age of about three years old, in vivid detail. For example, I can remember how the leather seats of my grandfather’s old Buick had a rip, right at the edge of the seat near the door. When I wore shorts, it always managed to scrape the back of my leg as I scooted my but across the seat to step out of the car. As we’d drive from Point A to Point B, I’d remind myself to watch out for that rip, but once we reached our destination, without fail, I’d slide the back of my thigh across the tear in the leather.
To compare and contrast, nowadays, I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast. I’ll pull my keys out of my pocket with my left hand, place them in my right, then dig through my pocket, wondering where I placed my keys. Amazing what the human mind chooses to remember, isn’t it?
One thing I can’t remember is names. I’m pretty good with faces, but names are rough. I don’t think I was always bad at it. Maybe ten years of getting knocked around in a wrestling ring has jarred my memory a bit. M aybe it’s the cerebral palsy, which is technically a form of brain damage.
Or… maybe I’m just bad at remembering names and these are just second-rate excuses.
But the more I think about it, being on wrestling shows for nearly ten years has gave me the opportunity and ability to interact with thousands and thousands of people. From wrestlers, to refs, to managers, to announcers, to camera guys, and of course, fans. Meeting so many people on a weekly basis for a decade was bound to lead me to a struggle with remembering human government names–
–which leads me to today’s article.
First and foremost, let me say I love my fans. Your support is why I exist. Over the years, seeing many faces repeatedly, I’ve got to grow up in front of and know some of the regular fans at independent shows across the country. That being said, during a discussion among colleagues this weekend, it was decided that when interacting with fans, one of the worst and most awkward questions you can get is this:
“I betcha don’t remember me, do ya?”
Who is gonna win here, buddy?
Okay, I get it. Chances are you’re just trying to be polite and engage in a conversation. You’re looking for an ice breaker. But asking if I remember you has far higher risk than reward here, on both ends.
The best case scenario in all of this is that I will remember you.
But– what if I don’t?
If I don’t remember you, we both lose.
After interacting with hundreds and hundreds of people and getting cracked in my head repeatedly, I can’t remember our last interaction.
Now, you’re hurt.
You’re confidence is crushed.
You’re angry.
Now, I look bad. I feel awkward.
I guess that your name is Bill out of desperation, only for you to say that your name is Lamont (that’s pretty close, I think). Now things are getting progressively awkward because of the awkward silence occurring between us.
Now what happens?
Maybe you’ll just let it go. Honest mistake! Poop happens.
Or
Maybe you’re going to go home, go on a message board and bury me about what a jerk I am and that I don’t care about my fans. Perhaps you’ll start a petition to have me unbooked from all future wrestling shows. Maybe you create a Facebook Group called “PEOPLE THAT F**KING HATE GREGORY IRON.”
Or
Maybe I’m just overthinking.
Point is– maybe a better conversation starter would be “How’s it going?”
Unless I’ve been having an exceptionally bad day, and I feel compelled to tell you about it in detail…
#ProWrestlerProblems
Do yourself a favor and pre order the new Handicapped Heroes Double Dragon style tee before June 125th and get FREE stuff:
-Greg
