wrestling / Columns

The Tightrope of Authenticity: A Tribute to Eddie Guerrero

November 17, 2014 | Posted by Len Archibald

I want to thank all who contributed their stories for my examination of professional wrestling cities. I have a deep-seeded respect for fans who are not ashamed to express their love and excitement for professional wrestling. A brief conversation between readers, APinOz, Billy and Benjamin J made mention of Eddie Guerrero and the pop he received at No Way Out 2004 in San Francisco, which was certainly goose bump-inducing. The timing was certainly fitting, as four days ago was the ninth anniversary of the death of one of the all-time, pound-for-pound greatest athletes, performers and characters in professional wrestling history.

I can’t even begin to express into words the devastation I felt on November 13, 2005 when the news of Eddie Guerrero’s death broke. I was newly married and living in the United States with my wife and her parents as we began the long road to becoming first time homeowners. Eddie’s death hit me personally hard; here was a man who had all the talent in the world and seemingly wasted it away in a sea of bad choices and addiction. Eddie’s story was something I could certainly relate to – and witnessing his rise to the top and overcome those decisions and endear himself to the wrestling world was as gratifying a story as one could imagine. Last week saw an outpouring of tributes from fans and peers alike, all sharing their thoughts and memories of Latino Heat. The most touching came from Eddie’s wife, Vickie – who has endured as a symbol of expected Guerrero strength in the wake of her husband’s untimely passing.

It is still difficult to view the RAW tribute to Eddie that aired on November 14th, 2005. WWE superstars were a blubbering mess, attempting to perform in front of emotional fans in Minnesota. Brandishing black armbands with “EG” on them, the WWE performers did their best (and mostly failed) to keep themselves together during the evening. Still seeing the tributes from Chavo Guerrero, Batista, Rey Mysterio, Triple H and Chris Benoit – especially Benoit, knowing in hindsight how Guerrero’s death affected him – was especially unsettling. As a wrestling fan, coming to the realization that we were denied what probably would have been a five-star match with Shawn Michaels was sobering.

We were already in the thick of the Monday Night Wars in October of 1997. Shawn Michaels and The Undertaker competed in a classic battle at the inaugural Hell in a Cell match that saw the debut of Kane. The nWo was riding high and on a collision course with Sting leading up to Starrcade in December. Two months prior, though – WCW presented Halloween Havoc to the world. I had followed WCW religiously; even though I considered myself a WWF guy, there was no denying WCW captured the imagination of fans from all sides. One of the great separators between WCW and WWF was WCW’s embrace of their Cruiserweight Division. Going into Halloween Havoc, WCW’s two biggest Cruiserweight stars were Rey Mysterio Jr. and Eddie Guerrero. And on a night headlined by the infamous “Age in a Cage” match between Hulk Hogan and Roddy Piper, whose infamous logic (or lack of it – listening to Bobby Heenan and Tony Schiavone fumble through the rules that seemed to change every five minutes is painfully comic) emphasized a flaw in WCW’s main event scene. It didn’t matter anyway; a pair of cruiserweights had already stolen the show.

Before their launch to super-stardom, I was made aware of Eddie Guerrero and Rey Mysterio Jr. through Apter mags, tape trading with fans to see old ECW shows (I have dated myself by DECADES) and WCW’s focus on their smaller international talent. I witnessed their Halloween Havoc match in sheer awe, enraptured in a style that I had respected but never saw performed with such precision and crispness. Between Rey’s insane offense and Eddie’s gleeful heelish tactics, always going for the mask, the two Latino superstars put the rest of the world on notice. It was certainly an eye-opener for me – for as much as I appreciated Mysterio, there was something about Eddie that made him stand out. Despite his size, Guerrero had a presence and physical charisma that reminded me a lot of one of his peers from Texas, Shawn Michaels – and anyone that I saw in the same league as HBK in 1997 I viewed as special. Eddie Guerrero was special.

Eddie was simply destined to be a professional wrestling superstar. Born in arguably the most celebrated family in the industry, Eddie’s father, Gory is widely considered the father of Lucha Libre. His brothers, Mando, Chavo Sr. and Hector each earned worldwide reputations in Mexico, Japan and several territories across the United States as excellent wrestlers. Eddie’s opportunity to shine with the rest of his family was all but pre-determined. No one knew that Latino Heat would be the star in the legendary family who would shine the brightest.

Earning an athletic scholarship in wrestling, Eddie performed at the University of New Mexico with the natural desire to turn pro like the rest of his family. Gory had a wrestling ring built and set up in the backyard of his home in El Paso, Texas, where he would train his son and lay the infrastructure of Eddie’s hybrid style of Lucha Libre, classic catch-as-can and amateur wrestling. He would make his debut for Mexico’s EMLL promotion in 1987, competing mainly in trios matches with his brothers. Eddie would first taste gold as he won the World Wrestling Association’s World Trios Title in Tijuana, Mexico on July 28th, 1989 with Chavo Sr. and Mando. Eddie would wait three more years to win his first singles title, the WWA Welterweight Championship under a mask as Mascara Magica (Magic Mask).

Splitting his time between performing for New Japan Pro Wrestling and Mexico, Eddie landed in the newly formed Asistencia Asesoría y Administración under his real name and dropping the mask. He would team with the legendary El Hijo del Santo, then feud with him as Eddie formed an alliance with “Love Machine” Art Barr to form La Pareja del Terror (The Pair of Terror) and quickly became arguably the most hated tag team in lucha libre history. Guerrero would use the opportunity to break himself from the pack by turning his back on his Mexican heritage, donning tights with the Stars and Stripes, recruiting talent like Konan and Louie Spicoli as he waved the American flag and formed Los Gringos Locos, a Mexican version of the Four Horsemen. The heel faction competed with every major star in AAA and eventually would receive their comeuppance when Guerrero and Barr would lose to El Hijo del Santo and Octagon at AAA’s only attempt at Pay Per View, When Worlds Collide. The end result would see Eddie and Art Barr forced to have their heads shaved bald.

In Japan, Guerrero would compete in the prestigious Top of the Super Junior Heavyweights tournament, having classic matches with the likes of Dean Malenko, Chris Benoit, Jushin “Thunder” Liger and 2 Cold Scorpio. He was then placed as a foreign heel interpretation of Tiger Mask in New Japan as The Black Tiger, teaming with the Great Susake to win the Junior Heavyweight Super Grand Tag League.

Between his time in Japan and the AAA feud, Guerrero was heavily scouted by the mainstream professional wrestling world. Guerrero and Barr received an opportunity to compete for Extreme Championship Wrestling. Tragedy struck, though. Barr was found dead in his Springfield, Oregon home before they would arrive together. Guerrero would arrive in ECW with much fanfare and in his debut match would defeat 2 Cold Scorpio for the Television Title. Acclaim for Guerrero’s style would further cement himself as one of the future superstars of professional wrestling as a week later he and Dean Malenko would battle to a 30 minute draw in a match that is considered one of the best (if not the best) in ECW’s history. It was here that Eddie would add the Frog Splash to his offense in tribute to Art Barr. At the end of his ECW run, Guerrero was given the shot to perform for World Championship Wrestling and found himself in the thick of the Monday Night Wars.

In hindsight, Guerrero should have been able to move up the ranks at WCW upon his arrival, competing in matches against the likes of Ric Flair and winning the United States title from Diamond Dallas Page at Starrcade 1996. Among the land of the giants – or better yet – “Where the Big Boys Play”, Guerrero would somehow get lost in the shuffle of the nWo storylines. As WWF was forced to take chances and create new stars in Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Rock, Triple H and Mick Foley, WCW hung on to the old guard just a little longer than they should have. A months-long feud with nephew Chavo Jr. lead to the formation of the Latino World Order, which was in actuality a moment of reality blending with fiction; Eddie had voiced frustrations that he and other Mexican talent had over their misuse by WCW management. One of my absolute crazy theories is that WCW should have taken a chance and thrust Eddie into the world title picture; a Guerrero world title victory, even serving as temporary derailment of the nWo would have garnered some attention and created a few more new stars for WCW to play with. Alas, just as the Latino World Order was beginning to gain some traction, Eddie was involved in a car accident on New Year’s Eve 1998. The injury would sideline Guerrero for several months and jumpstart his eventual downward spiral into drug addiction.

When Eddie returned, not much had changed in the WCW landscape. His frustrations boiled over to management and on January 20, 2000 he, along with Dean Malenko, Perry Saturn and Chris Benoit would be granted their releases and would appear on Monday Night RAW a mere six days later. The Radicalz were born – and once again, just as the group showed some fire and could have gained some momentum, one day after their arrival, Eddie would dislocate his elbow performing a frog splash at the Smackdown tapings in Detroit, Michigan.

Trying to put myself in Eddie’s shoes at this stage of the game, I could empathize with him falling into that hole of addiction. His career started out brightly – as the son of a famed wrestling family, Eddie was afforded opportunities and gifts to succeed at a high level. I do not doubt that he put himself under tremendous pressure not only to perform at a level fitting his last name, but to perform at a level where he could separate himself from it and be his own man. I have been down that road before. I also understand the psychological agony of hitting a wall every time a new opportunity presents itself. For fans who did not grow up during the Attitude Era, you may not have any idea how fast things moved. With the WWF roster as deep as it was, and with the surge of young talent in WCW and ECW, superstars could get left behind in a heartbeat if they were not on their game every single night. So I cannot imagine how it must have felt for Guerrero to suffer an injury the day after he made his first appearance for WWE – after being on the shelf for so long in WCW.

Upon his return in April of 2000, Guerrero would soon be thrust into another high-profile storyline when he defeated Chris Jericho to win the European Title with the help of Chyna. Eddie had made several attempts to woo the Eighth Wonder of the World’s affection and it finally paid off as they shared a new romantic union through the summer of 2000. The union would be short-lived however, as Eddie “accidentally” defeated his “Mamacita” for the Intercontinental Title. Throughout all this, Eddie Guerrero showed absolute flashes of brilliance as an in-ring storyteller, a serious competitor and a comedic foil all at the same time. Brilliance does not excuse the perils of substance abuse, though; Eddie was checked into rehab after showing up “unable to perform” in June of 2001. Months later, he would be arrested for drunk driving and would be promptly released from the WWF. As much (justified) heat WWE receives for its handling of the InVasion storyline, it cannot be stressed enough that there were several factors that truly derailed it from the get-go. A lack of credible WCW talent – either through contractual obligations or injury – created a major hole and therefore there just was not around to help give the perception that the WCW faction was enough of a threat to the WWF. I always felt that it was just a waste doing the InVasion storyline – even without the nWo, and not have Chris Benoit, Triple H, Guerrero and several other stars around, but I digress.

Eddie Guerrero would return to professional wrestling at the WWA Pay Per View “Revolution” in February of 2002, defeating Psychosis and Juventud Guerrera for the WWA International Cruiserweight Title. A stop with NJPW proved to those who made the decisions that Eddie was ready to make a play at mainstream North American pro wrestling again and he would return to WWE in April of that year. A month later and Guerrero was crowned the Intercontinental Champion as he defeated Rob Van Dam at Backlash. After losing the title back to RVD in a great ladder match, Guerrero was poised for truly big things as the cards were set for him to feud with Steve Austin over the summer. Once again, circumstances dealt Guerrero a bad hand as this was the moment Austin decided to walk out of the company. I clearly remember being pissed at Austin because his abrupt exit denied fans what could have been a true breakout moment for Guerrero and perhaps Austin’s next great nemesis as early interactions displayed the two had tremendous chemistry.

As fate would have it, Guerrero would find himself in a mini-reformation of the Radicalz as he would team up with Chris Benoit and would jump from Raw to SmackDown in the wake of the new Brand Extension. Eddie’s career was suddenly about to get interesting. The SmackDown Six: Eddie and Chavo Guerrero, Edge, Chris Benoit, Rey Mysterio and Kurt Angle may have been the absolute pinnacle of WWE’s embrace of sport over entertainment in the wake of them winning the Monday Night War. Any combination of those competitors could wrangle a guaranteed three-star match in their sleep at the time. After a feud with Edge in the summer of 2002, Eddie would team up with Chavo Jr. to form Los Guerreros and would win an absolute classic Triple Threat tag team match at Survivor Series 2002 to win the WWE (SmackDown) Tag Titles, besting the superteams of Kurt Angle & Chris Benoit and Edge & Rey Mysterio.

By this time, the Guerrero hype was fully coming into fruition, and WWE loyalists finally understood just how great a talent Eddie truly was. “EDDIE” chants were becoming more and more commonplace during shows. Eddie’s in-ring confidence was also starting to parallel with his talent, taunting his opponents with a shimmy and exercising his taste in classic low-riders to drive to ringside. Guerrero would find himself in higher-profile feuds with upcoming superstar John Cena and at one point of his career, was carrying two titles at once as United States Champion and one-half of the WWE Tag Team Champions.

Eddie was gaining a following that was too large to deny; his “Lie, Cheat, Steal” mantra was getting massively over with the WWE fanbase and even during moments when he was a heel, such as his mini-feud with Tajiri, Eddie would be cheered like he was the babyface in the confrontation. Things would soon begin to spiral out of control between he and Chavo Jr. and they found themselves on opposing sides, culminating in Eddie being cheered as he pretty much annihilated his nephew in their one-on-one match at the 2004 Royal Rumble. If there was ever a match that showed where two superstars were on the WWE pecking order, it was that strange quasi-squash of a battle. Little did anyone know, Eddie was being made to look strong for his next major challenge – one that most did not see coming but if they did, would have salivated at the prospect.

Leading up to WrestleMania XX, a few things were pretty clear: Chris Benoit was being groomed for a major main-event run, whether he won his Triple Threat Match for the World Heavyweight Title against Triple H and Shawn Michaels or not. Goldberg was on his way out after spending a single year in WWE. Kurt Angle was seemingly destined to be in a title match. John Cena was slowly gaining a following the likes we had not seen since the departure of Steve Austin and The Rock (this may seem like hyperbole, but listen to the crowds for Cena leading up to his match vs. The Big Show at WrestleMania XX and for the few months afterwards.) Eddie Guerrero was somehow being groomed for a high-profile match, but no one knew where he could fit.

…Until he won a “Mini Royal Rumble” and found himself as the #1 contender to Brock Lesnar’s WWE Championship. No Way Out 2004 from the Cow Palace in San Francisco was shaping up to be an eventful show, sold on the fact that Goldberg would make an appearance at the behest of Stone Cold Steve Austin to “scout” Brock Lesnar during his WWE Title match. Fans had already knew that Goldberg vs. Lesnar was pretty much penciled in for WrestleMania XX – most figured that could be the WWE Title match (no one was aware of Lesnar planning to make an exit at the time until the week before WrestleMania.)

So fans were *hopeful* that Eddie Guerrero would shock the world and win the title, but most at the time were doubtful. WWE had met its “IWC quota” of allowing Chris Benoit to main event WrestleMania. There seemed to be little optimism of Eddie Guerrero, a performer who had worked his tail off professionally and personally to reach the top of the mountain. He had arrived to WWE with much fanfare, but fizzled out with an injury upon his arrival. He was a known drug addict. He had squandered opportunities given to him by Vince McMahon, who is known to burn those who burn him. Trust and loyalty is very important, and there has to be some major modicum of trust to be considered WWE’s #1 guy.

This is where I have no doubts over the notion that Eddie Guerrero had battled back from the long, hard road of addiction. Even though WWE was in their pre-Wellness days, there was still a good amount of internal scrutiny towards superstars who publicly humiliated the company through their outside actions. Guerrero’s 2001 DUI had shamed the company and upon his return, had to have worked twice as hard not only to win over the crowd, but to gain the trust of the company that he could be recognized as their best. A frog splash later in front of a HOT San Francisco crowd, and Eddie Guerrero had become WWE Champion.

I look back at the two major championship victories I was emotionally invested in during that time: when Chris Benoit made Triple H tap out at WrestleMania XX, I yelled and jumped at my television set, physically elated that a competitor from my home turf, who had worked so hard for so long and was told from most accounts that no amount of talent would overcome either his size or lack of “personality” to make it to the top of the WWE landscape. Benoit’s victory was a natural release of joy and of justification that no matter what, the cream will always rise to the top. Eddie Guerrero’s victory, while similar in some respects to me cut a little deeper because his personal journey was closer to a life and death battle (in hindsight at the time.) I empathized with Guerrero as a man who had to battle addiction and overcome it. I understood the plight of a man who probably spent 98% of his time in his addiction lying to everyone – including himself – to survive just for another fix. I got that. After Eddie’s victory, I found myself at a place where I needed to internalize my past decisions. It started me on a hard path to realize my own freedom from addiction (one that I could not personally externalize until after Eddie’s death, through the vessel of CM Punk and his straight-edge lifestyle.) I’ve said it many times: casual fans, or “outsiders” who mock the world of professional wrestling just may not have any idea of how these performers can affect the lives of their fans – for better or for worse.

The “worse” comes when reflecting upon moments such as the emotional embrace that concluded WrestleMania XX between best friends Guerrero and Chris Benoit, now champions and solidified as the men who exemplified the pinnacle of their craft. What a moment of elation that is now tainted, humbling and mired in unprecedented sadness. To think that at the time, we fans were so joyous over the final image presented to us on that day – and to think how both of those individuals have left us (and the way they left us) is beyond sobering. More than a year later, just as it seemed as if Eddie was on his way back to becoming a permanent main-event fixture, we all received the news on November 13, 2005. As a professional wrestling fan, this was the saddest I had ever felt – and still feel. Other professional wrestlers – great ones at that – had passed away and I had emoted sadness, but there was something…different about Eddie Guerrero’s passing. It was akin to the only candlelight in the dark being snuffed out suddenly and without warning. I remember being absolutely rocked over the death of Owen Hart, but hearing of Eddie Guerrero’s passing psychologically and emotionally paralyzed me. It was absolute potential being teased for the world to notice only to be harshly yanked away. Guerrero’s Monday Night RAW tribute did not help matters.

I am not a psychologist, but the common notion from both fans and peers seem to correlate the start of Chris Benoit’s ultimate fall from grace on November 13, 2005 as well. Benoit was a physical MESS during the Guerrero Tribute and accounts claim that he became more insular than he already was after Eddie’s passing. The measure of any life is by how it affected others it touched, even after that life had left. There is no doubt that Eddie Guerrero’s life had affected millions of people in some way, and his death affected some perhaps to the point of no return. There are days when I think about what the landscape of WWE – nay – professional wrestling as a whole would be like if he was still alive today and I find myself struggling with my inner logic to put the pieces together. So much would be different. I believe wrestling fans as a whole would not be as jaded as we are. I believe WWE would have been able to balance its top-tier superstar output at a better clip because there would have been more options. We would have seen that dream match between Guerrero and Shawn Michaels. I don’t want to be “that guy” who supplies lofty expectations of a match just based on the competitors, but that was a five-snowflake match waiting to happen. Who knows what would have happened to Chris Benoit if Eddie was still around. It is admittedly a double-edged sword, though. Eddie Guerrero’s death was ground zero in WWE’s wellness policy, gave WWE a reason to create space for Rey Mysterio as a top-tier superstar and opened the eyes of the industry and fans to the innumerable amount of young deaths the wrestling industry is guilty of. Perhaps that is why Guerrero’s death affects so many of us. His death served as a catalyst; he may have been considered the last “innocent” life taken away during a time where professional wrestling was still considered an “innocent” form of entertainment. We were all so naïve, then.

Eddie Guerrero was a truly rare breed of talent in the professional wrestling industry. He had a pedigree and lineage that pre-destined him to greatness, an amateur background that guaranteed a basic understanding of the fundamentals of the sport, and a beaming personality that enhanced the entertainment value of all who viewed his work. As a heel or a face, Eddie excelled far beyond expectations and broke barriers culturally and physically in the industry. Even despite his last name, or his moniker of “Latino Heat”, I never considered him as someone from another heritage. Eddie was able to channel emotions and notes in his craftsmanship that were wholly universal to the human condition. In my mind, he was the first babyface of the PG era that was able to balance the line of being an antihero by being brutally honest about his flaws. “Remember when I told you (a promise to a fellow superstar)? I LIED!” Guerrero just made me happy to be a pro wrestling fan.

Most of all, Eddie Guerrero was a human being, who lived the life of a flawed man openly and honestly to his fans. He never sugar-coated his mistakes and never passed accountability for them. Unlike so many other athletes or artists who tend to use their past mistakes to justify their fame or push them away even farther from their fanbase, Eddie used those mistakes to embrace his life even further. Watch those final performances during his then-simmering partnership/feud with Batista before his passing; Guerrero performed with the passion of a man who acted like he had no tomorrow. His moves were getting even more crisper in his advanced age and his ability to emote in the ring was rising to another level apart from anyone in WWE. I took to appreciating Eddie Guerrero, the man – far more than Eddie Guerrero the character and found a deeper enjoyment for his work because he portrayed himself as an open book in a world where he is paid to “work” fans at every turn. He was authentic in a world of pretenders who attempted to be authentic.

That authenticity is the absolute basis of how professional wrestling functions. We may never be graced with another superstar who walks that tightrope so well ever again.

R.I.P. EDDIE GUERRERO

Len Archibald is the former Executive Director of the Northwest Ohio Independent Film Festival, and is a current movie reviewer for WLIO in Lima, Ohio.

Agree or disagree with me? Let me know on Twitter!
Follow @THELenArchibald

ADAMS & ARCHIBALD AT THE MOVIES: BIG HERO 6 REVIEW:

Does Disney’s and Marvel’s BIG HERO 6 make a big splash in the superhero genre? David Adams and Len Archibald weigh in.