An unfortunate part of being a wrestling fan is the inevitability that, on occasion, news will break concerning the death of a performer. Longtime fans have seen it again and again, and without question the laundry list of heart attacks, overdoses and suicides, regardless of how tragic in some cases, and how shocking in others, to a point becomes desensitizing. Many, including yours truly, were upset when Eddie Guerrero died, but beyond that, none really strike much of a chord beyond being a downer or a surreal subject of discussion, because of its commonplace nature. We've seen Owen Hart fall from a ceiling to the ring on live Pay-Per-View, and we've seen Chris Benoit, considered one of the most honest and standup guys in wrestling, murder his wife and seven year old son before hanging himself. So needless to say, the shock value aspect of such events is lost on people that have been following the business for any duration.
"Sweet and Sour" Larry Sweeney was found dead last Monday, hanging himself from a wrestling ringpost. Sweeney, real name Alex Whybrow, had turned 30 years old just two months prior, and had struggled with bipolar disorder for years. His most famous work came as a manager in Ring Of Honor, particularly in 2007 and 2008, where his unbelievable charisma and speaking ability made him one of the best characters in company history. He was a complete throwback, seemingly teleported from another era, where his over the top mannerisms and obnoxious comments would have been rewarded with a position as one of the most famous personalities in wrestling. You can just watch him, in his element as a manager, and just marvel at how entertaining he is.
And his death, for whatever reason, really bothers me.
It's strange enough that it bothers me considering I never once met the man, but when I think about how so many have died and haven't affected me at all, it really makes me think about why his particular case has had me so down, and I'm not sure I can come up with the reason.
Obviously, from a fan perspective, seeing somebody with as much ability and as much potential as him have it snuffed out before it ever got to be anything is part of it. The first time I watched him, I actually had something I very rarely ever get when I watch anybody, which is a feeling of dislike, brought on by jealousy of just how good he was. He was so obviously a fan of guys like Roddy Piper, Ric Flair and Bobby Heenan, but had this intangible quality that sparked from his eyes that made anything he said and did his own. He was remarkably talented. And seeing that go to waste is sad no matter what.
Part of me thinks its because I felt I may have seen it coming. After struggling with his bipolar issues for so long, he apparently stopped taking his medication, and as a result ROH stopped using him in 2009, when his erratic behaviour in real life started to cause concern amongst his friends and co-workers. Since that time, he virtually disappeared from the landscape, and after a story made the rounds about how he was spotted at a WrestleMania, wrestling fans on a grass bank without his shirt on, and hearing about people being uneasy about his situation, I distinctly remember thinking to myself - "one day, I'm going to read that something bad has happened to him". For the past week, the thought of that has eaten at me more than a little bit. When I was told by a friend on the phone he had died, I immediately said it would have been a suicide, and was sadly correct. That doesn't make me prophetic, and it certainly doesn't make me happy or proud in any way. I guess a lot of it is that I feel somehow like I'm like the people that did know Sweeney, who knew there were problems too, and that the situation was at times very bad, and even if there's only so much that can be done to help somebody, probably feel right now as if they might have been able to do more.
Perhaps it bothers me because he was only 30, as my brother approaches that same age, and I understand just how young that really is.
Maybe its because, on some level, I felt I could relate to him - a guy who was undersized, but had to adapt and work with what he had to create a spot for himself. And he succeeded in being incredible at it and respected for it above anybody else in the world. Not a bad thing to aspire to. And more than anything, I can relate to the fact that when you watch him, you can really see in his eyes the purity of the love he has for what he's doing. And it bothers me to think that somebody that loved something so much wasn't able to make it because of something so hard to control.
Perhaps its that I really didn't want him to be a case of "what should have been". Or that somebody that should have had an incredible future was beset to such a huge degree by a disorder that refused to let him live it out.
I'm not certain I'm going to figure out exactly why it bothers me. Ultimately, there will be others, and I don't think the death of Alex Whybrow is any more or less tragic or significant than anyone else, but I don't expect many to have this kind of impact on me. It's strange, what you take to heart and what you don't.
But regardless of how I feel, there won't be anybody to come around for a long, long time that had as much talent and potential as Larry Sweeney did.
Ain't no doubt about it.
