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I barely even understood what wrestling was, but I knew at that moment what I wanted to grow up to be. It had guys getting busted open, bleeding out onto the mat. It had Eddie Gilbert running over Jerry Lawler with his car in the parking lot outside the arena. I’m this half-Irish, half–Puerto Rican little maniac sitting on the couch in the Bronx eating wonton soup, watching old school Memphis wrestling, looking at my mother like, Are you seeing this? Can you believe this? And the whole time the lady working the concession stand is screaming, “Stop! Stop! Stop! Security!!!!!!!” Then the guys fight their way through the crowd all the way back to the concession stand area, and they start smashing each other with popcorn machines and pots and pans and hot dogs. It’s a normal tag team match that starts in the ring.
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If you don’t know what I’m talking about, YouTube it. It had the infamous Tupelo, Mississippi, concession stand brawl from ’79. It was like something beaming in from another planet. I popped in this random tape and after the static and the tracking and all the fuzz and everything, these three words flashed up on the screen.įrom the minute I saw that tape, I was obsessed.
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So I hijacked the living room TV (My Irish dad is screaming out, “I wanna watch the NEWS but the BOY got the WRESTLIN’ on again!!!” My Puerto Rican mother is screaming back from the kitchen, “Relax!!! He was good this week!!!!”). When you rented something, they gave you that hard plastic mystery box with no cover on it. I remember she brought home this random tape one night, and you gotta remember back in the ’90s you didn’t know WHAT you were getting into with the VHS tapes.
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On Fridays, if I made it through the week without trying to choke anybody out in my elementary school, my reward was Chinese food and a wrestling tape. My mother used to go to VideoVision in the Bronx - not Blockbuster, we’re talking VideoVision, the mom-and-pop shop with the cat behind the counter and the ADULT section - and she didn’t know what she was doing so she’d grab anything that said wrestling on it. The only thing that could keep me calm was wrestling tapes.
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Well, guess what it made me? From the minute my uncles taught me how to throw a punch when I was 11 years old, I was out on the streets swinging for the fences. It either makes you soft or it makes you into a maniac. Seriously, in the second grade I remember hearing, “Hey, get this spic outta here.” When I was in the Irish part of the neighborhood it was, “Hey, what’s up spic.” And when I was in the Puerto Rican part of the neighborhood it was some other nonsense. I was half Irish, half Puerto Rican, so I was getting it from all sides. The only thing that saved me from jail was the fact that I was so young. They’re trying to teach us the New Testament and I’m trying to German suplex a motherf*cker into the chalkboard.
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I’m smacking the dude with books, folders, everything. And we were in religion class, as a matter of fact. Right in the middle of class - papers flying everywhere, teachers screaming, kids jumping up on the desks. Dude drops his books and charges into the room and straight up bull rushes me. Now, this is Yonkers, so we’re not meeting outside in the parking lot after lunch or whatever.
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I’m full of testosterone, piss and vinegar, so I pop right up out of my chair like, “What’s up?” The next day, I’m sitting in class and I see the dude walking in the hallway. I literally couldn’t even tell you what it was about. When I was in the 10th grade, I got into a beef with this kid over some stupid neighborhood bullshit. I’ve been out of my mind since before I can remember. The overall outcome is arguable both games received fairly similar reviews (with Sunset edging Infamous by one point) and Infamous proving to be a much bigger success, selling over a million copies in a week while Sunset struggled with sales.For most of my life, I thought I was crazy.