On Raw, WWE continues rewriting Ultimate Warrior’s horrible past
October 3, 2017 - WWE
Every October, a WWE is awash in a sea of pink—trotting out a pinkish ring ropes and ribbons in decoration of breast cancer recognition month. It’s a eminent try that a high-profile sports-entertainment association would dedicate so most primetime atmosphere for a means that afflicts one out of each 8 women in their lifetime. For that, a WWE—and their partnership with a Susan G. Komen Foundation—should be commended.
On final night’s partial of Monday Night Raw from Denver, a shred aired where a Raw women’s roster, violation kayfabe, stood in a ring as a unit, as 3 breast cancer survivors were presented with WWE championship belts. Some watched and competence have thought, “that’s a good gesture.” My greeting was some-more of discomfort.
The shred was hosted by Dana Warrior, widow of a wrestler Ultimate Warrior, who died suddenly 3 days after being inducted in a WWE Hall of Fame in 2014. In WWE’s revelation of a Ultimate Warrior narrative, a male innate Jim Hellwig exemplified a fighting spirit, who never gave up, and lived each impulse of his 57-year life like it was his last—essentially, a vital essence of a motivational speech. “Please join me in honoring their soldier spirit!” Dana Warrior pronounced to cheers from a Denver crowd.
Seeing these 3 women in Warrior shirts on WWE isn’t usually bringing courtesy to breast cancer, though—it’s also posthumously rewriting a prolonged story of Warrior’s horrible diatribes. Although we don’t know how he would have felt about WWE participating in breast cancer recognition month, we do know about his diagnosis of many others. He pronounced that happy group suffered from a same “disease” as pedophile priests. At a speech he delivered in 2005 during a University of Connecticut, Warrior (he legally altered his name from Hellwig) remarked “queering don’t make a universe work.” Our colleagues during Deadspin has a distant more finish anthology of Warrior’s many adverse and horrible remarks.
Since Warrior’s death, a WWE has determined what it calls a Warrior Award, presented during a annual Hall of Fame ceremony. In a prolonged uncover with copiousness of flightiness and insider wrestling references, a Warrior Award is a critical partial of a proceedings. The association has given a endowment to an eight-year-old WWE fan who died of cancer, a Rutgers football actor who was inept on a margin and became a motivational speaker, and former morning uncover horde and cancer survivor Joan Lunden. It’s tough to watch this and not get swept adult by a emotions of it all. But each year we watch it, something in a behind of my conduct can’t get over a male whom a WWE named this endowment after. It’s as if Warrior, who evidently pronounced Hurricane Katrina victims were fat and bad and had it coming, never happened.
On Tuesday’s partial of Wrestling Observer Radio (subscriber only), Dave Meltzer—the country’s preeminent pro wrestling journalist—expressed a same antipathy about a segment.
“The lionizing of Warrior unequivocally bothers me, generally right now. He pronounced things worse than roughly anybody when he was alive… it unequivocally rubs me a wrong way,” Meltzer said. “I usually find this whole thing, of somehow, breast cancer survivors wearing Ultimate Warrior T-shirts for this male who pronounced all that horrible happy stuff. we found it really repugnant. It didn’t rinse good with me.”
The Monday Night Raw shred was usually a delay of WWE’s remaking of a backstory in a some-more graceful light. The association seeking these 3 women to shake a ropes—Ultimate Warrior’s signature in-ring move—provided a acclaim evidence they wanted, though such weakling opportunism shifts a spotlight divided from breast cancer recognition to a male whose difference and actions a WWE would rather we forget.