The Tragic Death of Brian Pillman

Jimi Hendrix was a tragic loss for society, as were Dr. Martin Luther King and James Dean. Realistically, Brian Pillman was not. Yet at the very least, he deserves to have his life recognized as the cautionary tale it was.

For those of you who do not know (and that is probably most of you), Brian Pillman was a professional wrestler, and a damn good one. Yeah, wrestling is fake, and is shown no respect by mainstream society. But for these few minutes, suspend your disbelief, and judge only the tragic passing of Brian Pillman, not his means of employment.

Pillman, 36 years old at the time of his passing on October 5, had been in the sport for about ten years, a career highlighted by tag team championship reigns in World Championship Wrestling and the impressive aerial tactics which were seen in the early part of his ring life (and which earned him the moniker "Flyin'" Brian). A one-time Cincinnati Bengal, Pillman broke into wrestling in 1986 after being trained by the legendary Stu Hart in Calgary, Alberta. He soon rose from the smaller wrestler federations to Ted Turner's World Championship Wrestling, and gained praise as one of the sport's young, exciting superstars. Over the next ten years, Pillman would be a staple in WCW, winning the United States Tag Team Titles with partner Tom Zenk, the WCW Light Heavyweight Title twice, and most memorably the World Tag Titles with "Stunning" Steve Austin as the cocky and talented Hollywood Blondes. Following nagging injuries, Pillman attempted to regain his main event status, but ended his tenure in WCW as a demented member of wrestling's most successful group of performers, Ric Flair's Four Horseman. He soon moved to Extreme Championship Wrestling and then the World Wrestling Federation, where he took this new "loose cannon" persona to the extreme. During that time, Pillman was involved in a very serious car crash which threatened his life, shattered his ankle, and put him on the sidelines for over a year.

It is assumed that it was during this recovery time that Pillman began to use prescription pain killers like so many other injured athletes (most recently the Green Bay Packers' Brett Favre) to cope with the mental and physical wounds left by the accident. The anger of being taken away from his career pushed Pillman's "loose cannon" character to the edge, and left him fighting the hard-living, drug-infested world he had entered.

In early 1997, Pillman re-entered the WWF on a healthy ankle, again possessing his all too real "ticking time bomb" personality. This mindset was best characterized by his removal from co-hosting duties on the WWF's "Shotgun Saturday Night" television program, due to an assault on an obnoxious fan in the crowd. Pillman had no chains to shed...he never remained still long enough for anyone to lock them on.

Though he did headline some WWF events during his final year, was a successful heel (wrestling bad guy), and could outperform most other wrestlers in the ring, Pillman was merely a shell of his former self. On the afternoon of Sunday, October 5, 1997, just hours before the start time for the WWF's "Badd Blood" Pay-Per-View show, on which Pillman was scheduled to wrestle former WCW and ECW nemesis Dude Love (a.k.a. Cactus Jack, Mankind, and Mick Foley), Brian was found dead in his hotel room in Bloomington, Minnesota of an apparent heart attack. It is now assumed that an overdose of prescription painkillers was the cause of his demise.

Brian Pillman does not deserve our sympathy. He lived life in the fast lane, abused narcotics, never sought to remedy his addiction, and paid the price. This troubled existence began with a childhood bout with throat cancer (the source of Pillman's especially gravelly and intimidating voice) that resulted in 36 throat operations over a span of 30 years. But for an individual who had spent 36 years "fighting his demons," as former WCW boss Eric Bischoff put it, his was far from a noble end. This event is unquestionably a tragedy. A tragedy for all of mankind? No. But it is a tragedy for professional wrestling and its fans.

Even for the wrestling fans who did not feel any particular affinity for Brian Pillman and those who hated him outright, this was a sudden, unexpected, and nerve-rattling piece of news. Though Princess Diana's death did not drive those who disliked her to tears, it was still a horrifying announcement. Very few cried over Pillman's tragic end; most wrestling fans were seriously disturbed; all felt a sense of loss. His talent and professionalism were respected by fans worldwide, and especially by his co-workers, who carried the confidence that Pillman would do anything for the company (a fact proved several months ago when a stipulation match left Pillman wearing a dress in the ring for the next month). As one online wrestling fan put it, "Let's hope he raises hell in heaven like he did on earth."