Bret The Hitman Hart
Bret The Hitman Hart.
When I was a little kid, we’re talking between 1989-1995 here.. this guy was my #1 hero in the world. Period. Nobody on the Toronto Blue Jays was even close. I had every poster, his sunglasses, action figures, EVERYTHING.
Wrestling is the complete opposite of what it used to be. It was fun, and genuinely entertaining. And Bret was the best. Then, a lot of shit hit the fan for him. He got fucked over by his company; the same company that his brother later died in the ring performing for. His stepbrothers passed away from drugs. His parents died of old age.
Bret got a severe concussion and had to retire. Years later had a sudden stroke while riding a motorcycle. Bret Hart hasn’t been in ANY ring in 12 years.
Last night, The Hitman came back.
I watched with emotion. I fought back tears. It was a true king returning to his throne – and he isn’t there to wrestle, for his body is too ravaged from head injuries and stroke. But he was there. Call me uncool. Call me lame. Call me whatever the fuck you want.
The Pink And Black Attack Is Back Jack!