When I was quite young, just a little boy in fact, I used to hang out quite a lot with my Pop (grandfather), Bruce Swallow. Id often caddy for him as he hit the golf courses, and he would regale me with tales of flying Tiger Moths during World War II. To me at the time, he was my own private Roald Dahl, tall, debonair, flying the skies, reading a great deal, skiing, playing golf, loving his jazz and english comedy, and oft found smoking a cigar and quaffing a Gordons and tonic with a twinkle in his eye and a cheeky little word for the odd giggling vision of beauty that crossed his path. One of our favourite things to do was to tiptoe off into the spare room in Remuera, and watch The Wrestling together. There we were, a good 60 years apart, essentially two naughty school boys scything off together to watch huge steroid ridden beasts stage-pound each other into submission...Pop in his armchair whooping and hooting along with me, while i sat cross legged and wide eyed with my face almost pressed against the screen, looking across every two minutes to share the delight with him. It was fun filled drama and high jinx, pantomime in a cola can if you will, and our favourite wrestler was The Ultimate Warrior. The Ultimate Warrior died today. Another steroid fueled goliath of yesteryear collapsed in a car park untimely, at age 54. The action heroes and sporting champions of those years seem to be falling down and suffering for their demo-god status ever more (Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler style), as time carries on without them. I think back to my Pop Bruce, long since gone, and I think back to the Schwarzeneggers, the Ultimate Warriors, the Ben Johnsons...and i remember when the impossible seemed within reach, and we could all cheer for those larger than life figures...and i cant help but feel we built them up and egged them on, because we were all scared to accept the fact that we are all just people after all, and we all have our flaws, and we all have our limits. And perhaps my impression of Pop has changed, as i realised he was not the perfect figure I had built up in my head, but a Man, with his brighter parts and also his shadows. But the way I idolised him as a child, that wasnt entirely his fault. It was, partially at least, mine, and as I result, I love him all the same. Maybe, as i grow older, even more. tmz/2014/04/08/ultimate-warrior-dead-dies-wwe/
Posted on: Wed, 09 Apr 2014 06:49:33 +0000
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