This past weekend marked sixteen years since the tragic passing of Owen Hart. It’s one of those events in wrestling history that if you’re a life long fan of the sport, you remember exactly where you were, and what you were doing.
On May 23rd, 1999, I was just twelve years old. Because my family was low, low, lower middle class, we couldn’t afford cable. Yes, during a time period in which wrestling was it’s absolute hottest, with the World Wrestling Federation battling rival World Championship Wrestling for rating supremacy opposite each other every Monday night, I was without cable television. Internet was still in it’s infancy (and regardless, I didn’t have a conputer), so the only way I could keep up with what was happening on Raw and Nitro every week was through my friends at school, who would give me a detailed report Tuesday morning at school. If I was able to, I’d take $5 out of my bi-weekly $10 allowance, along with an extra $3 for a blank vhs tape, and give it to my buddy Shawn, who would tape Raw and Nitro for me.
Leading up to the May 23rd WWF pay per view, Stone Cold Steve Austin was set to defend his WWF Heavyweight Championship against The Undertaker. Vince and Shane McMahon, along with The Corporate-Ministry, had been a thorne in Austin’s side for weeks. I needed to see this pay per view.
My pal Shawn was ordering the event. I begged my dad to allow me to ride my bicycle the few blocks to his house to watch the event, entitled “Over The Edge.” Dad objected, his reason being that I had to get up at 7 a.m. the next morning for school. In my mind, that reason sucked. I begged and pleaded, annoying my father to the point where he threatened to ground me for the next month if I didn’t shut up. I was disappointed. To avoid spending the next thirty days imprisoned in my room, I kept my mouth shut.
That Sunday evening, dad found something to watch that he felt would be on par with “Over The Edge.” It was a wrestling made-for-TV-movie airing on NBC, entitled “The Jesse Ventura Story.” I was sort of excited. I had always enjoyed The Body’s work, and his story was white hot, due to him becoming Minnesota’s Governor just a few months earlier.
If you have ever seen “The Jesse Ventura Story,” you know what a trainwreck of a film that was. The actor that played Jesse looked and sounded nothing like him. Furthermore, the facts were highly inaccurate. Even being twelve years old, I questioned why, for whatever reason, Jesse spent his whole wrestling career in WCW, commentating with Gorilla Monsoon— who has never worked at WCW. I wonder why, for some reason, guys wwre getting put through tables throughout the 70’s and 80’s, and why Goldberg, Kanyon and Raven were active members of the roster. The icing on the cake was Raven going into business with the evil promoter, who screwed a local wrestler out of a match that he was told he was going to win in his hometown, by putting him in a Sharpshooter submission.
Sound familiar? I’m not kidding… it’s in the movie.
The NBC original film went on for two hours, from 9 p.m. to 11 p.m. It seemed like an eternity. When the end credits began to roll, I was relieved that it was over. As I tried to read the names of the writers of that picture, so as to know who I should blame for such an embarrassing movie, the screen split in half, with the NBC 11 O’Clock News team cutting in to preview what was coming up next on the local news.
“ Coming up tonight on Channel 3 News , find out which WWF pro wrestler died live on pay per view during a stunt gone wrong. The details up next at 11.”
A cold shiver traveled down my spine. ‘A wrestler had died during the pay per view?,’ I thought. I was in disbelief. As I was mentally preparing to find out just which wrestler had passed, my dad put me in a playful headlock. I struggled to get free, and the more I struggled, the tighter he locked on the hold, to the point where my hearing became muffled. I saw the newscaster talking, but they were showing no photographs. By the time my dad released the hold, the story was over.
“What wrestler did they say died, dad?”
“Owen Hart. Said he fell from the rafters or something.”
I was so confused and saddened. When I was younger, I absolutely hated Owen. He actually main evented the first ever house show I ever attended, wrestling his brother Bret for the WWF Championship in Cleveland’s Richfield Coliseum. I tried to boo Owen out of the building that night because of how much I loathed him. As I was growing older, I began to understand just how good the bad guys worked to get you to truly hate them. Not only was Owen a great bad guy, but he was an incredible wrestler, and I learned to appreciate more as the years has passed.
The next day at school, all the kids talked about was Owen passing away. My teacher, Mr. Lasecki, was a huge wrestling fan, and I remember him stopping whatever lesson he was teaching so that the boys in class could share Owen memories out loud. I thought that was really cool.
Owen Hart was a one of a kind wrestler. He’s one of the few guys that as more and more behind the scenes stories from the past come out, I’ve yet to read one bad story about Owen. He was a once in a lifetime athlete, but more importantly, he was a loving family man with an incredible sense of humor. Selfishly, I wish he was still around, so that we could have gotten more amazing matches and moments with “The King of Harts.”
Rest in power, Owen. You’ll never be forgotten.
-Greg
