Vantage Point: Toronto

Over the Christmas break, my good friend Kenneth and I had a discussion about the constants in our lives. At some point or another everything in life changes, but the constants that we identified in ourselves become the things that matter most to us, may that be interests or friends.

These constants define you, they are what people recognize you by and ultimately they define you.

That’s why my attempt to give up watching professional wrestling one night after Wrestlemania, as I promised I would in my last post, was futile. Wrestling was a constant.

Thus when the Rock countered John Cena’s rendition of the People’s Elbow with the Rock Bottom and pinned John’s shoulders down for the three count, I was lost for words. (My friends weren’t though, as I received eight different texts regarding John’s loss, I’ve never received more messages in a 5 minutes span. Sad, I know)

I was so sure the WWE would book John to win as everything about this match mirrored Hulk Hogan and the Rock’s passing of the torch match at Wrestlemania 18. And if history were to repeat itself, since Hogan put the Rock over 10 years ago; I thought the Rock would do the same for John.

I was so confident that John’s triumph over the Rock would be a fairy-tale ending to my wrestling watching career that I forgot to plan out how to react if he lost.

The next morning I wore my red Fruity Pebble CeNation shirt to class despite the result of the match and that’s when I realized I wouldn’t be able to put it down so easily.

My mind was racing with the possible situations that could unfold on RAW instead of listening to my professor ramble on and on about the exam next Monday. After class, I dissected nearly every match on the Wrestlemania card with my classmates who pay attention to wrestling. That’s another thing constants do, they bring people from all different walks of life together.

Then 7 p.m. rolled around.

Usually I live stream RAW on one tab while pretending to put my sports section together for the Eyeopener in another tab, but because I promised myself I’d stop watching after Cena and Rock’s once in a lifetime match, I forced myself to focus on my work.

It was all good in the neighbourhood until I got a couple texts near the end of the show all with the same premise: Brock effin’ Lesnar is back and just F5’d the holy hell out of John Cena.

At that moment I was filled with so many emotions my “lady parts” were showing.

But really the one prevailing thought I had was I can’t believe I missed a defining moment in something that defined me. It appeared I decided to leave wrestling at the worst time possible.

The whole reason I thought I was done with the WWE was because I felt John had no more rivals to overcome, but then up stepped the former UFC champion.

I’ve thankfully never been addicted to anything harmful in life, but the desperate need I felt to re-watch RAW was the closest I ever felt to relapse in my life.

To stop watching wrestling entirely in the first place was a crazy idea, no one’s cut a huge part of their life out cold turkey voluntarily. I essentially wanted to strip myself of my identity as a John Cena fan.

Supporting John Cena through thick and thin has played as big of a part in my life as walking, breathing and eating have. It’s tattooed in my DNA and I don’t think I could ever give it up.

My grade 8 homeroom teacher, Mr. Koz, always reminded the class to keep everything in moderation as it is possible to have too much of a good thing.

I think that’s how I’ll handle my return to wrestling, heeding Mr. Koz’s advice: in moderation.

Obviously as life progresses, certain responsibilities will interfere with my freedom to watch wrestling every Monday night. But hey if Barack Obama, the busiest man in the world, can squeeze in a nightly roundup of SportsCenter and follow how his hometown Chicago Bulls are doing then I can find the time to keep up with one of my constants.

This past Monday, I returned to my routine of streaming RAW live to see how the John Cena and Brock Lesnar feud would unfold. When John’s familiar theme song interrupted Brock Lesnar one sentence into his promo, the giddiness returned.

John proceeded to walk straight down to the ring and slap Brock straight across the face. And I was there to watch it live.

All was right with the world once more.