The Significant Loss of WWE Wrestler Eddie Guerrero
I have been an avid wrestling fan for the last several years, but it was not until this tragedy that I realized how involved I have become with the characters and storylines on Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown. My roommate and I faithfully watch wrestling each and every week, ususally throwing back a few beers or ordering Chinese for the occassion. It is our escape from the rest of the week, and one of the only times the television is on. We know that wrestling is fake, that the characters are playing a part and that wrestlers rarely get seriously injured, but we find ourselves involved in the story and enjoying the moves the wrestlers perform.
However, I never realized how emotionally invested we can become in people we don’t know and will never meet. We aren’t friends with the wrestlers; we don’t kick back on Sundays and watch football together or meet for coffee after work. We don’t call one another on the telephone or ask about the missus or the kids. These aren’t people we know personally, and yet we are personally involved in their lives.
The death of a public figure has never hit me as hard or carried so much weight as that of Eddie Guerrero. It shocked me that someone so must larger than life and so full of vitality could possibly have met an early and tragic death. The week before, I’d watched him in one of the most satisfying matches I had ever seen – his triumph over Mr. Kennedy on Smackdown – and the fact that his presence would never again grace my television screen was almost too difficult to contemplate.
The following week, both Raw and Smackdown held tribute shows for Eddie Guerrero, and now I wish that I hadn’t watched. Raw’s episode was the most difficult to view because Eddie’s death was still fresh in everyone’s minds. The wrestlers were heartbroken, and as they crowded onto the stage with WWE Chairman Vince McMahon, tears flowed and faces wrenched in pain. These muscle-bound, tough-as-nails wrestlers were pouring their hearts out for their fallen counterpart, and it was both touching and heartbreaking. Eddie was survived by uncle Chavo Guerrero, wife Vicki Guerrero, and his three children. Of course, Vicki and the kids were not present at the show, but Chavo had come to pay his respects and participate in the tribute with the other wrestlers. Eddie’s best friend, Chris Benoit, was also there, and his testimony to Eddie’s life was beautiful.
I watched these two episodes, and I cried throughout both of them, and I still can’t understand the phenomenon. Again, someone whom I did not know, whom I’d never met, affected me as though it were a family member or treasured friend who had passed on. After spending years with him on WWE Smackdown, after allowing him into my home each week, I’d become connected to him in a way that I can’t fathom.
Eddie’s motto was Lie, Cheat, and Steal. As was the title of his video, throughout his drug and alcohol addictions, Eddie was Cheating Death and Stealing Life.
Viva La Razza, Eddie!
