Chris Lamb’s Favorite Wrestler (Non-Canon)
Who is Da Infamous DiZ? He’s a mastermind. He’s greatness to the nth degree. He thinks he’s, as the young boys like to say at the beginning of their rap records, “the shit”. He fancies himself as the ultimate person and regards Gary Oak as the anime equivalent to himself, down to never letting his opponents succeed in life and achieving the impossible (exhibits one and two). Da Infamous DiZ is a werebeast. He maintains a human form as his standard but he can transform into a dangerously fast, dangerously strong gray wolf-like creature with three tails who boasts a strong friendship and resemblance with Sonic the Hedgehog. As shown here:
But at the end of the day, Da Infamous DiZ, in all his werebeast glory, is a character. His opulence is a product of his creator’s own (as well as a by-product of his hatred for Gary the Intern). Today, however, we put the three-tailed wolf-like Infamous One to the side for a well deserved rest as I, Chris Lamb, equally self-absorbed but substantially more humble writer, take some time out to write something a little more light hearted from the standard malarkey that we, the L.E.W.D. Crew, work to bring you.
A long time ago, about a year back if memory serves, my first post up here was about why I watched professional wrestling. My earliest memories revolve around fear of the Undertaker, lawlessness of Stone Cold Steve Austin and, scarily enough, Norman Smiley. Barring the nightmares that these three still give me from time to time, they stuck out more than others because of their presence or questionable practices – not to mention Smiley resembles my father a bit. However, none of them were my favorites. Watching characters in the (then) WWF and WCW, they all seemed larger than life, even godlike; they were to me what comic book heroes or villains are to modern day mythology.
Yet one stood out. One could claim to be above the others. In my eyes, the greatest of them all was a man from Ohio named Randy Poffo. To the world, however, he was known as the Macho Man. He was Randy Savage.
Now you have to understand: Randy Savage stands as my favorite wrestler, period. He had everything going for him, from in-ring talent, to a desire for perfection, to such a larger-than-life presence that I wonder if he’s really gone. For me, the Macho Man not only defines pro wrestling for me, but he stands as a heroic figure. At one point I said the same thing about Chris Benoit, in response to his rise to the top of the game, but you can’t say that anymore.
Don’t think that I’m just going to ramble on for a while because of my respect for Mr. Savage. This is just a quick piece about what the Macho Man has influenced in my humble, soon to be 24 years in five months, life. It’s divided into two major aspects: a love for professional wrestling and/or sports entertainment, and a love for speaking aloud.
The former is pretty obvious, I think. Look at me. I write for a blog with pro wrestling/sports entertainment mavens who far exceed my own knowledge of the business and manage to hold my own. I get excited to see RAW every Monday and PPVs on any given Sunday, so long as it doesn’t conflict with a football game I HAVE to see (2013-2014 is Dallas’ year, just you wait… and that’s said with a degree of apprehension). When CM Punk began incorporating the diving elbow into his arsenal regularly I marked out like a young Amish during Rumspringa. To this day I can breathlessly appreciate over-the-top, stream-of-consciousness promos because Mr. Poffo did it to such genius and greatness that it’s hard to match such controlled lunacy with the current generation of entertainers.
Sure, you have lunatic characters, but you don’t have the controlled, possibly cocaine fueled lunacy that the Macho Man Randy Savage brought to every conceivable venue and minute in life. You can have crazy, muscular people save weird things, but how many can do it with coffee creamers and Tommy Lister? I’ll tell you who: nobody! Well, maybe this guy…
But that guy can do anything but beat Bruce Lee. Randy Savage could to, and he did, and it was epic. That’s not even talking about the ballet that was his ring work. More than that, he pushed his opponents to orchestrate brilliance in the ring. We all talk about the match he and Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat (a cool dude by all standards, I might add) had at Wrestlemania 3, and all the praise is more than worthy. There’s a reason it’s considered on the greatest matches in WWE history.
Because it is. I have a friend that considers Kanye’s Glow in the Dark tour the greatest tour in the history of history. I can think of plenty of reasons why that statement can be debated, but it’s an ideology I can appreciate because I feel the same way about the Intercontinental Championship bout at Wrestlemania 3. Period.
What Randy Savage brought though, more than anything, was the larger-than-life persona that shined bright. I cite those promos, in all their confusing greatness and non sequiturs, as turning points for me as a person. Is that an excessive claim? Yes, but here’s why, and it coincides with my second point: loving to speak out loud. As you’ve seen from the character Da Infamous DiZ, I have a certain… how do you say… allure, for the over-the-top. As a shape-shifting, half human, half Mobian, overly opinioned, drastically self-absorbed, strangely observant writer with a secret, shameful love for the music of Future (please, judge him), Da Infamous DiZ plays out, like many of the characters I write, as an avatar for one of my traits, attributes or passions. Da Infamous DiZ is the crazy character who stands before everyone and happily makes his opinion seem greater than someone’s facts.
That’s how I felt about Randy Savage’s promos; he was just crazy though; Da Infamous DiZ is an asshole (pardon my American) and cites Bully Ray pre-Hogan’s in-law as the ultimate wrestler example of who he, the DiZ, is. In the real world, however, I’m actually a pretty soft spoken guy. Lively, sure, but I don’t go around proclaiming my greatness. I let others proclaim it for me. At one point I was shy too, however, and by shy I meant I wouldn’t say a thing. My voice was muffled and shrouded by fear of consequence.
This actually lasted for a little while, but Randy Savage, and a growing fandom for Little Brother (especially Phonte, whom I consider one of the finest rappers ever) got rid of that. And after memorizing Phonte verses and becoming one with many a Savage promo, my voice became something like a super soldier songbird on steroids.
I cite my speech class; the second one (long story), was an experience and the way I spoke inspired many a student. Why? No hesitation, no complacency, I spoke with the joy and wit of an experienced orator. Partially because I was, but that’s another story entirely. One girl asked me why I spoke so well. I said two words: “Randy Savage”.
As wimpy as a story as that was, here’s the rationale behind that quote:
The beat went on. She didn’t understand what I meant, lost some respect for me due to my love/knowledge for professional wrestling, and to this day she wonders why I passed with flying colors and she struggled throughout, but that’s not the issue here. When you study stuff like this, insane three-minute vignettes of a man who does the crazy man to professional genius, you speak with perfection.
This wasn’t an article so much as a quick look into the mind of Chris Lamb, creator and actor of Da Infamous DiZ. Next time you wonder where my profane psychotic literature comes from, look no further than the man himself, the greatest Intercontinental Champion of all time, the cream of the crop, the Macho Man Randy Savage.