Raven

Nothing makes me pause and ponder my own mortality quite like the passing of one of my childhood heroes. I don’t know what it is, but when someone I watched on television, or listened to on the radio passes away, I become instantly nostalgic for my youth, which then leads into some dark territory of questioning where the years have gone. This last Thursday, Brad Armstrong, of the famous Armstrong wrestling family, passed away at the age of 51. Hearing the news, I was instantly taken back to when I first began watching pro wrestling.

Perhaps I’m the only one, but the inevitable “ECW! ECW! ECW!” chants heard from a small section of fans after every ungodly bump or hardcore spot at a major wrestling event just leaves me feeling sad. Not in a nostalgic longing sort of way either, just sad that so many remain entrenched in the past.