Josh Q. Public: G-berg and Georgie let their gimmicks go rotten, so they died of hepatitis in upper Manhattan. Sly in Vietnam took a bullet in the head. Bobby OD’d on Drano on the night that he was wed. They were two more friends of mine. Two more friends that died. -Jim Caroll Band
Public Service Announcement: OK here we go. Live from the squared circle. Bringing you the cheese like Urkel. I was saddened when I heard Bam Bam Bigelow died the other day. Found dead in his Florida home, passed away from an unknown cause at age 45. I used to be a WWF freak. Aaahh Freak out! Le Freak, C’est Chic. Couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get enough of Rowdy Roddy Piper smashing coconuts over the Superfly’s noggin. Couldn’t get enough of Georgethe Animal Steel eating the turnbuckle like a fat kid eating cake. Couldn’t get enough of Superstar Billy Graham. The man of the hour, the man with the power, too sweet to be sour! Couldn’t get enough of the Macho Man. Ooh yaa! There was the Iron Sheik Camel Clutching. There was Sgt. Slaughter Cobra Clutching. There was Greg the Hammer Figure-Four Leg-Locking. The Moondogs: Rex and Spot. The Bulldogs: Davey Boy and Kid Dynamite. The Valiant Brothers. The Hart Foundation. The Maginificent Muraco. Jesse the Body. All of it. And then there was Bam Bam Bigelow.
Bam Bam Bigelow. More tattoos than the NBA. More tattos than you could shake a stick at. An abundance of tatoos. A plethora of tattoos. Herve Villechaize style. Bam Bam never made it like the Hulkster made it. Like the Undertaker made it. Never was number one on the charts. But he cartwheeled his way into our hearts. Greetings From Asbury Park. The flying head butt off the top-rope. At 400 pounds, he was big. At 400 pounds, he was agile. You dug his style. He made it worth your while. Gave you a smile from here to the miracle mile. He did flips off the top rope. He did the Wham Bam Thank You Ma’am. And, he wrestled LT. Not Complainlian, the real LT. Cocaine takin’, quarterback breakin’, New York football Giant Lawrence Taylor. Wrestlemania XI. Can you dig it? Wrestlemania XI. Bam Bam, wrestling in Ted DiBiase’s Million Dollar Corporation. The apex of his career. In comes LT, along with his mantourage. Ken Norton, Jr. Carl Banks. Rickey Jackson. Steve McMichael. Reggie White. Chris Spielman. Salt-n-Pepa’s Whatta Man blaring. What a mighty big man. Bam Bam clotheslines LT. Boo Ya! Power Slam. Boston Crab. Leg-lock. Greetings From Asbury Park Baby! Down goes Taylor, like a drunken sailor. Here comes the count. 1…2… not to be. Up jumps LT. Throwing forearms with ferocity. Bam Bam goes down for the count. He goes down for he count and loses the match. Maybe so, but it’s a moment in time I’ll never forget. Rest in peace Bam Bam.
josh q. public. For the public, by The Public. Irreverent sports opinion from a Bostonian in New York. The one blog to read, when you’re reading more than one. Good to the last drop!
Man. Ooh yaa! There was the Iron Sheik Camel Clutching. There was Sgt. Slaughter Cobra Clutching. There was Greg the Hammer Figure-Four Leg-Locking. The Moondogs: Rex and Spot. The Bulldogs: Davey Boy and Kid Dynamite. The Valiant Brothers. The Hart Foundation. The Maginificent Muraco. Jesse the Body. All of it. And then there was Bam Bam Bigelow.
McMichael. Reggie White. Chris Spielman. Salt-n-Pepa’s Whatta Man blaring. What a mighty big man. Bam Bam clotheslines LT. Boo Ya! Power Slam. Boston Crab. Leg-lock. Greetings From Asbury Park Baby! Down goes Taylor, like a drunken sailor. Here comes the count. 1…2… not to be. Up jumps LT. Throwing forearms with ferocity. Bam Bam goes down for the count. He goes down for he count and loses the match. Maybe so, but it’s a moment in time I’ll never forget. Rest in peace Bam Bam. 
