Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [167]
It turned out Daniel didn’t have fragile X, but at the time it made sense because I was grasping at straws.
I spent most of the night on the floor in Ash’s room, watching him sleep, listening to him breathe, wanting to be close to him. I sat in the dark surfing the Net, researching every detail and texting others who were close to Chris. I talked to his riding partners, Travis Tomko and Chavo Guererro. I spoke to Regal and Dave Penzer, his neighbors in Peachtree City, Georgia. Two things became evident after talking to all of them.
What can I say about this picture? It breaks my heart to see it. I remember how much fun Daniel, Ryosuke (Funaki), and Ash had that day backstage at WrestleMania XXI in Los Angeles. They were running around all over the place and just being kids. May God bless his innocent soul.
Nobody could explain or understand what had happened, but everyone agreed: (1) Chris was a dark, troubled individual who was bottling up some very serious issues; and (2) he rarely expressed what he was really feeling inside.
I think that’s part of why he was such an amazing performer. He took out all his aggression and insecurities on his opponents in the ring and during his workouts. He became an unemotional machine whose sole release was to have the best match and the most muscular body.
But what had caused him to go off the deep end? Why did he snap and commit such a wicked atrocity? Was it steroids? No chance— this heinous act stemmed from something much deeper than roid rage. This wasn’t some gassed-up gronk punching someone in the face after being cut off on a side street. This was a disturbed individual dealing with severe mental problems.
Was it pills or alcohol? Side effects of multiple concussions? Personally, I think it was a combination of a number of things that caused him to snap—a deadly cocktail of steroids, painkillers, and caffeine abuse, combined with depression, paranoia, repeated blows to the head, and the fact that he kept his emotions and feelings locked up inside. That had to be it, right? It was a combination of all of these things.
Another factor that could have sent him over the edge was the staggering number of personal losses he had sufffered over the last few years. On September 22, 2004, the day that The Big Bossman Ray Traylor passed away, Chris called me crying.
“I can’t take it anymore, Chris. I can’t take any more of my friends dying,” he sobbed. “It’s not supposed to be like this! I can’t handle any more of my friends leaving me!”
Between the deaths of Bossman and other close friends like Owen Hart, Brian Pillman, and Davey Boy Smith, Chris had suffered so many losses in just a few short years that he had reached the end of his rope.
But it only got worse when he lost three of his absolute best friends in the course of three months. Eddy died in November 2005, followed by his close confidant Johnny Grunge in January 2006. Then his trainer from Japan, Black Cat Victor Mar, passed away a month later. Chris was never the same after that.
In life, best friends Eddy and Chris couldn’t be more parallel.
They both grew up loving wrestling and learned their trade around the world before ending up as two of the best performers in the history of the business. They were regarded as great people, great fathers, and locker room leaders who had the respect of their peers.
But in death, best friends Eddy and Chris couldn’t be more different.
Eddy died a hero, a reformed drug addict with the heart of a champion who was taken from us too early. Whenever Eddy’s name is mentioned, people smile fondly and remember how great a person he was and nothing else. But his legacy will live on forever as a revered hero who loved his family. His classic matches have been glorified by the WWE to be watched for years to come, and his name is lionized within the industry, never to be forgotten.
Then