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Finding Mick Foley
I was recently scrolling through my Instagram Feed when I came across a post from professional wrestling icon, Mick Foley. Some may know him as "Dude Love", others "Cactus Jack", and also "Mankind", a character made famous for many reasons, including having been thrown off the top of a steel cage by The Undertaker. That match is still one of the most unbelievable things I've watched in professional wrestling. In his Instagram post Mick was being thankful to those who have followed his Instagram account and having pushed him over the 300,000 marker. In his often joking manner, he poked fun at himself for not having as many followers as The Miz, but gave himself an old "Mr Socko" pat on the back for having a high engagement ratio.
The Books of Mick Foley
As I reminisced on my memories of watching Mick Foley wrestle, I remembered having penned a short poem of sorts back in the year 2000, after I'd finished reading his New York Times Bestseller , "Mankind, Have A Nice Day! A Tale of Blood And Sweatsocks." I couldn't help but think, "that is one long book title" as I put it next to me on my desk. It's been a few years since I pulled that book of the shelf now, but I had to go back and make sure it wasn't his other book I was thinking of, "Foley Is Good", now also on my desk. The poem I wrote also followed Mick Foley's first retirement in 2000 and if my memory serves me correctly the exiting video package was produced to the song "I Will Remember You", by Sarah McLachlan. The VHS tape I had recorded that on is long gone now, even tho I still have a VCR tucked away for nostalgic reasons.
Posting The Poem
After reading Mick Foley's post, I was going to take a screen shot of my now 23 year old poem and post it to his Instagram, but I thought that would be kind of sloppy, or lazy even. It wasn't the kind of effort Mick Foley would have put in when he stormed back to the ring to the climb that steel cage, work thumbtacks, steel chairs, or even bats wrapped in barbwire. No, it deserved some effort, but I didn't endure any injuries or even pain in my efforts. The closest I came was a short brain cramp recalling some timelines, but I promise, I'm ok. So, maybe Mick Foley will read this and maybe he won't, but it's what came out out of my pen all those years ago. Enjoy, if you can.
Goodbye Mick
I wasn’t there when you fell on the bombs.
And I wasn’t there to see your ear ripped off.
I wasn’t there when you were selling shirts to make a buck,
Or follow the trail of blood from Japan and do anything to make it stop.
I wasn’t there to help you clean your mess,
Or put icepacks on your knees.
I wasn’t there to watch you do a job.
Or jobbing to some “snow”-man on TV.
I heard about you though – your legacy that is.
And read it in a comic book when I was just a kid.
I thought it was all pretend – you couldn’t have done all those things.
And if you had, what kind of hell, I thought, was in this man for what he did?
You didn’t need no red and yellow – did you even know what vitamins were?
And you say you did it for your family, but it’s our voices that you heard.
You didn’t call me brotha and there was no valet to charm my eyes.
It didn’t matter if you were Cactus Jack, Dude Love or Mankind
I wasn’t there to save you when the ropes had choked your neck.
And I never asked how your kids and wife were, it wasn’t in the chant.
I wasn’t there to watch you win the gold, but I sure could call your name.
“Foley, Foley, Foley” as I watched you never say, “I can’t”.
I wasn’t there to hurt you – you did that by yourself.
And then again, I might have, when you asked if you were the best.
You didn’t hear me cheer that loud, until I saw it with my own eyes.
This man called Foley was for real, but he doesn’t look like a god.
I wasn’t there to say good-bye, then again did I ever say hello?
Or did I meet you in a ring, long after you’d already settled in?
I wasn’t there to shake your hand, “Atta boy Mick-old-pal.”
I didn’t give you anything other than the voice you heard, “Jump Mick.”
And with this you know, the respect you earned from me,
Could have never been if you were the guy who just went for the pin.
And then I realize, I was there with you when you said hello, when you fell, when you won, when you lost, when you bled, when you jobbed, when you missed your kids, when you cried, when you laughed, when you fell off that steel cage, when you lost your ear, when you sold those shirts, when you were on fire, and when you sold your book.
I was there Mick,
When you said goodbye.
Bang! Bang!
This is an opinion article by Guido Piraino of The Monthly Social Podcast. It may also be heard on The Path Radio Mix Online. You can read other opinion articles on the blog page.
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