Random notes:

This may break my streak of not watching a reality TV series.

A lot of celebrity deaths the past week. Jack Elam, Elliott Smith, Fred "Rerun" Berry, and two others that aren't going to get the recognition they deserve: Mike "Road Warrior Hawk" Hegstrand and Stu Hart.

Now, if you are a fan of professional wrestling, then chances are, these deaths mean more to you than the other three. The Road Warriors are without question one of the most popular tag teams of all-time, while Stu Hart is on the Mount Rushmore of wrestling, with Ric Flair, Antonio Inoki, and ________. (I'll let you fill that one out; not here to spark a wrestling controversy.) Stu Hart, with his Stampede Wrestling promotion, not to mention the number of wrestlers he's trained (most of whom went on to be some of the best workers in the business), was the patriarch of a clan that might be to Canada what the Kennedys are to the United States. See, a time not as long as ago as you might think, wrestling was held in a much higher regard than it is today. Back in the days of territorial promotions, before entrance music, roided up muscleheads, and "hardcore," wrestling was a great spectator sport. In those days, hour long matches were more the rule than the exception, crowds weren't so wishy-washy in their praise/hatred of a wrestler, and those involved treated it as a sport before they treated it as entertainment. Sure, the outcomes were predetermined, but at the time, everybody behind the scenes in out in front of the cameras worked hard to maintain that it wasn't. There was enough doubt that people would be on the edge of their seats with every pinfall, screaming their heads off when their favorite wrestler was caught in an "inescapable" submission hold, trying to will him out of his predicament. And because it wasn't on television four times a week, and there were no monthly Pay-Per-Views, whenever you did get to see a match, you appreciated it even more.

Now, admittedly, despite my previous wording, I did not grow up in that era. Instead, I got into wrestling around the time the business was moving toward what it is today. Basically, I came into wrestling around the time Hulkamania was taking off. I remember when I moved to Ohio, on some Fridays, I'd spend the night at my friend Corey's house, and his mother would take he, his brother, and me to the video store. We'd usually grab a couple of kung fu movies and a wrestling tape or two (usually WWF on Coliseum home video). We'd watch matches with the likes of "The Rock" Don Muraco, Tito Santana, Rowdy Roddy Piper, Hulk Hogan, Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka, Andre the Giant and countless others. Back then, TV didn't have much to offer. You had WWF Superstars on Saturdays, as well as NWA (which would eventually mutate into the now defunct WCW) on WTBS. Back then, before WWF (now WWE) would ascend to the top of the "sports entertainment" mountain, NWA was the more popular source for wrestling. While I was primarily a WWF fan, I did occasionally watch NWA. Two guys who really stood out were the Road Warriors, a larger than life tag team whose fashion sense has subsequently been hijacked by Oakland Raiders fans.

The Warriors were huge, and not just in terms of popularity. These guys were amazingly muscular, especially for a time when so few were. (Guys like Hogan and "Mr. Wonderful" Paul Orndorff being a couple of notable exceptions.) Their look was unique (at least until the imitators--remember Demolition?--came out of the woodwork) and intimidating. In an era of some memorable tag teams (like the Midnight Express and The Hart Foundation, for starters), these guys were the tops in my book. So when I heard that Hawk had passed away, I got a bit nostalgic for wrestling past. When I found out that Stu Hart passed away, it felt like the closing on a memorable chapter in the sport's history. And really, it is. There will never be another like Stu Hart, and there will never be another team like The Road Warriors. Godspeed, gentlemen. And thank you for making this wrestling fan a little happier.

***

In less somber news, I am actually eagerly awaiting a couple of video game releases this year. The first is Medal of Honor: Rising Sun. The other, Max Payne: The Fall of Max Payne. The former is the forth installment in the very popular and very awesome Medal of Honor series. This time, the action is taking place in Japan. From everything I've read, this will set a new standard for the series, something I thought difficult to do after the brilliant Medal of Honor: Frontline. That game's opening, the Normandy Invasion, is one of the most memorable and well-done in game history. (Sadly, I still haven't finished that game, having been sidetracked by others.)

The Fall of Max Payne is the second in the series and from the looks of it, business is about to pick up. First off, the environments look much improved, the character modeling even more detailed, and the camera work once again first-rate. I love the bullet-time mechanism (introduced in the first game), where you can slow things down, Hong Kong style, while popping caps in the enemy's ass. Not only does it make things look more stylish, but it also helps when a gang of thugs start to open fire on you. I'm glad it will be back in the second.

As a matter of fact, the style of the game is what really draws me to Max Payne. Sure, the gameplay itself is solid, but the game noir look and compelling (if a tad formulaic) storyline makes it easy to get sucked into playing it. Few games have a genuinely gripping atmosphere, one of the only other significant ones coming to mind being Silent Hill. If the previews I've read/seen are any indication, I'm definitely looking forward to immersing myself in this game.