It is ten degrees outside, with a 50% wind chill factor.  At ten o’ clock on a Saturday morning, most stores in an inner city district are just opening, and the general population is just waking up, and taking that first sip of sizzling auburn coffee.  The locals crowd around the street corner newsstand to gather all the anthologies of worldwide gossip that their craniums can embrace.  As they stride into their job facilities to put in another six hours for their workweek, they groan and whimper, and make jokes about their boss to themselves, yet never let these hilarity comments be heard.

Now while all those late-sleeping, Starbucks sipping, propaganda reading workaholics are going about their daily business, wrestling fans smirk and go about their own procedures.  About a month ago, I journeyed to the Providence Civic Center to pick up tickets to WWE Raw.  These tickets were a Christmas present for The Mark, due to the fact that we have yet to get first-class seats to a WWE show.  I arrived about an hour in a half early, on this bitterly cold, ten degrees 50% percent wind-chill morning.  I had originally thought that at 8:30 am I was in store for ringside seats.  Instead to my surprise, I arrived to find a line of eager WWE fans, stretching around the block.  After conversing with a couple of them, I found that the first twenty or so in line had actually slept there overnight, so as to be guaranteed a primo seat.  As the line started to budge, I watched as handfuls of people emerged from the building, smiles across their faces, jackets still zippered to the brim, and a cold fist clutching the pride and joy that is a WWE Raw ticket.  These fans will now run to their jobs, which they are now late for, and dance giddily while waving their ticket in the air.  Although they probably hate their jobs, their attitude is now one of purpose and bliss.  They’ll dance around their cubicle while humming Triple H’s theme music.  They’ll draw up blueprints for their Raw posters while their supervisor isn’t looking.  And during a very important meeting to decide the direction of the company’s budget, they’ll have images of a Five Star Frogsplash flicker through their heads.  Instead of being reluctantly polite to their boss, they’ll be openly rude and insulting. They might even throw an elbow drop or two on the administrator.  Why you ask?  Because, simply, nothing else matters! A wrestling fan could be fired, divorced, homeless, and forced to watch their dog get run over twice, but as long as that WWE camera-side, row B, ticket is still intact, life goes on.

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(Inspired by the SOCOM: Navy Seals game for PS2)

03-17-03 23:58.06 Approximately 1 mile off the coast of Connecticut-

Under the mask of night, the team jetted toward the shore. The rubber raft continued to toss and turn as it made its way across the waves. The team held on tight to the safety ropes attached to the raft, each knowing well, that if one of them should be lost into the sea, the team would not hesitate to proceed with their mission. Especially this team.

In the front of the raft, sat Markahuna, the team leader. Diagonal to him was his able partner, Flipper, clutching his grenade launcher in one hand, and a fist of Zantacs in the other. Behind them, sat the bravo team, Zipster and Guspectre. All watched as the gleaming lights in front of them gradually became brighter and brighter. "Night vision, ready!" yelled Markahuna. "Let’s blow some s#!t up."

Moments later, team bravo pulled the raft ashore as the ables began to scout and cover the area. "Follow", hollered Markahuna. "Roger sir, following you" the team responded. Slowly the team made their way across the shore line, stopping only for brief moments to check the map, and wait while Flipper stopped and wrote down an idea. Eventually they came upon their target. At first sight of it, Markahuna immediately ordered a duck and cover. As Flipper tried to hide behind a blade of grass, and Zipster and Guspectre dove into a nearby thorn patch, the Markahuna gazed up, and took a good long look at the team’s target: Titan Towers.

The mission was simple: Breach the perimeter, take down all hostiles, and secure the structure. It seems a terrorist group has taken the Towers by force, and are holding the inhabitants hostage. The team ran in through a back loading dock that was not covered by any hostile. Cautiously, the team skated the walls of the interior, not knowing what to expect. In the distance the team heard whispering, thanks to the superior hearing abilities of Markahuna, who is able to detect any sound due to years of sonic disputes with his current boss. "Bravo team, ambush on crosshairs", called the Markahuna as he pointed his gun forward. Zipster and Guspectre shimmied around the corner, and found two men talking. Zipster rummaged through his knapsack and pulled out a rifle silencer. As he attached it to his gun, he looked at Guspectre and began to plan their next move. "Dude, this is what we gotta do, its an old trick I learned from…..". And with that, Zipster pushed Guspectre out of their concealed space and into the open hallway. Guspectre stood there stunned, as the two men pulled out their weapons and aimed them at the flabbergasted Guspectre. "Tango cited, bravo engaging," Zipster said as he leapt out from his hiding with his rifle aimed and ready. BLAM! BLAM! A double headshot took the two men down, and Zipster smiled as he lowered his gun. "Tango down". Guspectre shot a dirty look to Zipster. "What?" Zipster inquired. Bravo team examined the bodies of the two men, and shot them a couple times just in case. The two men were Sharkboy and Angel. The team members were confused and doubled back.

The team regrouped on the original position, only to find Markahuna and Flipper arguing over the status of wrestling. "Man, I’m telling you, just wait until they do another Necrophilia angle, I swear", Flipper said. "Shut up", replied Markahuna, "I’ll kill you".

As they pushed on, the team noticed the building was far too quiet. Suddenly, Zipster, using his binocular vision saw multiple cameras and trip wires running down the approaching stairway. The team began to dodge and dart through the halls and stairways. As Markahuna squatted over a trip cord, he felt a slight rumble in his abdomen. "Uh-oh", he said. And with that, let out a tremendous repugnant gas shower across the room, shocking his teammates, and causing the plethora of trip cords to drum and activate. A loud screeching sound followed, presenting a very maddening alarm that was very obvious to anyone in the building. Between the coughs and gags, Zipster shouted, "Hooyah?!"

From around the corner a hostile came running toward them, screaming "Invaders, Mullah! Mullah!" As Markahuna went to aim and take down the hostile, Flipper stepped in front of him and said, "Going hot sir", and began the fire his grenade launcher in every direction. Explosions went off everywhere. "Tango down", called Flipper. Markahuna looked at the body, and found the remains of the wrestler formerly known as X-Pac. Markahuna’s confusion was interrupted by the shouts of Zipster. "Man down, Man down!" One of Flipper’s grenades bounced off a wall and took out Guspectre. "Damn", said Markahuna, "I could have used him for next week’s mission."

The alarm persisted in alerting the hostiles, and the team persisted in breaching the premises. While dashing through the halls and different levels, the team came across numerous hostiles, and took down each one. As they went, Markahuna began noticing a pattern with the hostiles the team was using as gunfire exercises. First it was Sharkboy, Angel, and X-Pac. BLAM! BLAM! Now it was the Juice and Pogo the clown. BLAM! BLAM! Damien 666 and Justin Credible. The team finally got backed into a dead end by the terrorists. One half of bravo and both ables ducked behind a filing cabinet, collecting themselves while avoiding enemy fire. Markahuna’s eyes lit up with an epiphany. He pulled a grenade from his pocket, pulled the pin, and handed it to Zipster. "What do I do with this?" asked Zipster. "Run", replied Markahuna. And with that, Zipster stood up, clutching the grenade, and ran directly into the hostiles’ position. Moments later, Zipster was awarded the golden heart, given to those who sacrifice their lives for the good of the team. He was also given a medal for SUF, stupidity under fire.

Now that the majority of hostiles were cleared out thanks to Zipster, Markahuna and Flipper raced through the remaining hallways. BLAM! BLAM! Supreme and Salem both down. "I think I know what’s going on here", announced Markahuna. Team Able shuffled their way up a long flight of stairs and past a very extensive weight room. Soon, they drew upon the door leading to the CEO offices. Kicking the door in, team able burst into the room and immediately covered the area, amazed on what they found. Vince McMahon sat in a chair, sweating and scared, while Shane Douglas stood above him with a 2x4 wrapped in barbed wire. Also in the room were Rob Black and Lizzy Borden.

"I knew it", said Markahuna, "XPW is trying to take over the WWE. Release the old man, Douglas, you got nowhere to go." Douglas cringed at the thought of giving up, when he was so close, and winked to Rob Black, signaling for him to make his move. Rob smiled, and stepped forward, pulling a small dog from his jacket, and yelled, "Don’t move, or the Puppy gets it!" Markahuna glared in disgust, and stirred his crosshairs away from Douglas and centered them on Black. BLAM! The puppy scurried out of the room as Rob’s body hit the floor. "What did you do that for?" asked Flipper. Markahuna answered, "He was gonna kill a puppy." "So?" "I like puppies", replied Markahuna.

"That’s it, it’s time to bring out the big guns!" said Douglas. "Lizzy, give them what you got!" Lizzy walked in front of Flipper, and lifted her shirt, revealing her extremely voluptuous beacons. Flipper’s eyes stretched wide open, and his face became pale. "Oh Mama! Oh My! They’re so…so…Oh! My heart!" Grasping his chest, Flipper collapsed, and whisper, "man down". Markahuna looked around and realized he was now the last man on his team. Saddened by this, he dropped his gun, and screamed, "Nooooooo!"

Now because casualty struck the majority of the Wrestling Mark Seals, the rest of the mission’s story is virtually pointless. Therefore…the end.

However, far far away, in parts unknown, the staff of a wrestling website sits in front of TV screen, frustrated and annoyed. One of them throws down his controller, and screams, "Aaaargh! We’re never gonna beat this friggin mission!"

--ZIPPY

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A TRIBUTE TO THE FIGHTS OF A PRODIGIOUS NIGHT
4/03/2003

 I sat, I saw, I apologize.  As opinion columnists, we at the Wrestling Mark are allowed the ability to express our views on wrestling without having to face critical complaints.  I do not know how many people follow our columns, and are exceptionally loyal to our site.  However, if you are one of those readers who are pulled into our domain regularly, then you are aware of the continuing feud between Flipper and I, and are also aware of an article I wrote about a month ago. 

 The article was a prediction on this year’s Wrestlemania and the “disappointment” it appeared to be.  I said, and I quote, “This year looks to be a disappointment” and “The majority of the card does not deserve it”.   I know this is not a legitimate move, nor is it acceptable, but I have to get it off my chest:  I was wrong, and any remarks made that were negative towards this year’s Wrestlemania, I completely retract from the record.  I know what you’re saying, “Can he do that?”   The answer is, “no, I can’t”,  but I just did.

 Last night’s show was beyond my appreciation.  I was mentally exhausted after watching it, and not because it was Academy Award show lengthy like, but rather the entire show was a firecracker.  From start to finish, Wrestlemania XIX was awesome.  A few complaints here and there, but who cares, the show was amazing.  This was the first WWE show since Summerslam ’02 where I just sat down and watched the entire show, enjoying every minute.

 The cruiserweight match was a predictably magnificent match.  Rey Rey and Matt definitely put there best forward for this one.  The women’s match was…..fantastic.  Not one of them were holding back, throwing fast paced impact moves, and a commendable women’s match to boot, which is a rarity in the WWE.  It’s moments like this that remind you how important the women’s division really is.  It really was a quality match.

 Undertaker….how do you do it?  How is it you can go into a two-on-one (sorry Nathan) match, with two of the biggest guys in the brand, and pull out a decent match while at the same time carrying it the whole way?!  Undertaker is almost as big as Show and Albert, yet he flies like a Hardy boy.  How do Show and Albert make excuses after that?  Nathan Jones?  Nathan, whose Koala bear did you piss off to get booted out of that match like that.  Speaking of ‘booted’, is the spin-kick the only move Nathan knows?!  Hell, even Flipper pulls out a alarming ‘rake of the eyes’ sometimes.

 No complaints on the tag match. These are the top guys in the business, how could it go wrong.  Team Angle are already classics, Los Guerreros are an example of everything a great tagteam should be, and Benoit and Rhyno need no adulation, they already earned it along time ago.

 Explain this to me:  A four hour pay-per-view, with probably a half hour long total of the Miller Lite girls, could not make room for the Raw tag team title match?  Lance, Kane, and Rob all worked their @$$es of this past year, and they got bumped from the biggest show of the year because…..someone in the writing department felt that we needed to see the Coach get his pants pulled off?  Don’t get me wrong, the chicks in the show are great looking girls, and their fighting was funny, but I didn’t sit down to watch a half-@$$ pillow fight; I turned on the TV to watch Wrestlemania.  There is no reason why two guys (RVD and Kane) who have main evented pay-per-views, are getting bumped for cheap celebrity pops on the biggest night of the year.

 Michaels and Jericho is an event I will always remember.  That match was magnificent, largely thanks to Jericho.  I think the finish given to HBK was a mistake, but hey, that’s my opinion, who cares, the match was awesome, and I can could never take anything away from it.

 A standing ovation is in order for the three participants of the “20 Years in the making Match”.  Three?  Yes, three: Vince, Hogan, and Hugo.  Hugo from the Spanish announce team, who took a steel bullet to the head.  I will never make a joke about the Spanish announcers ever again….okay, maybe one.  Vince and Hogan raised the bar for senior citizen death matches.  Ever see a billionaire take and give punches on his employees. No?  How about jump off a ladder for the good of the company’s biggest event.  No?  You won’t, unless you watched Vince last night, a true boss, and a man who would never let his wrestlers do anything he wouldn’t. 

 Rock and Austin was good, and I am glad to see Austin back.  The psychology in that match was far better than it was the last time they met.  I was thanking the holy deity of grappling that Goldberg did not come out last night.  There are few ideas that I stand by with a passion, few ideas that I have about people that are unchangeable.  Goldberg is one of the few.  The mere thought that the WWE, a company who Goldberg whined and complained about due to their content and said he wanted nothing to do with it, can sign someone like him just boggles the mind.  Maybe it’s me….I must be missing the spectacle that is Goldberg.  The man, quite literally, fell into wrestling, and in WCW it probably worked.  I do not see how a company like the WWE can throw this guy, this name, into the faces of the WWE fans, and yet be able to fire Jerry Lynn and Raven without a second thought.  I am anti-sparkle man, and that is no secret. But hey it’s only my opinion, you watch the upcoming shows, and tell me Rock isn’t carrying this guy.

 Many are upset with the outcome of the Raw World title match.  Booker didn’t win, boo-who, get over it, don’t worry people, he’ll get it at Backlash or something.  A couple people brought it to my attention that I am HHH loyal, and some how Booker resistant.  Well, it’s true, and I stand by it, I am not fond on the Book man.  I do not think he is a good wrestler, but he does have his moments.  I do not think he is funny or clever in any way, shape or form.  I think Booker relies too much on the management and others to help his character and his mat skills. Since Booker’s first appearance in the WWE he has not changed once.  His catchphrases are not new or creative, neither is his ring style.  I find more amusement in a ball of lint than I do in the spin-a-roonie.  HHH has always delivered killer interviews and promos, and is always 100% going into a match.  Granted backstage politics are his vice, but hey, I don’t write columns analysising the amount of good will and clean soul some men have, I talk about wrestling, and personal lives mean nothing when rating him as a wrestler.  The match at Wrestlemania was terrific.  I applaud you, Booker, for a good match, and I mean that, you had a good night, and I can’t argue that. 

 No one sees the pattern?  In 1999, HHH won the title the night after Summerslam, held it almost exclusively until Survivor Series, dropped it, won it back before the Rumble, held all the way through Wrestlemania, and finally dropped it at Backlash.  Let’s see….now, in 2003, HHH was given the title a week after Summerslam, held it exclusively until Survivor Series, dropped it, won it back before the Rumble, and held it through Wrestlemania.  Chances of him dropping it at Backlash, pretty damn good, but I’ve been known to be wrong.  Hang in there Book, you’ll get there soon.

 Never in a million years did I think anyone BUT Angle was going to get hurt at Mania.  Brock nearly ended his career exactly one year from when it started.  He is one lucky and talented kid, and you Brock, deserve every bit of success that comes your way.  That match was unbelievable, and was absolutely worth the year long wait.  Brock didn’t hit the shooting star press, so what?   Granted it is an awesome move, but it doesn’t define a match.  The fact that the big guy could actually make it through the flip itself was astonishment enough.  Hitting the move isn’t all that matters. Sometimes it’s the moves you don’t hit that make you remembered. Hell, Angle has missed the moonsault so many times it is almost expected he’s taking the bump now.  The match was downright marvelous no matter what the outcome or the missed spot.  You cemented your spot Brock, congratulations, and get well soon.  We’ll see you at Wrestlemania XX.