Diary of a Heartbreak Kid

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Diary of a Heartbreak Kid Page 5

by Craig Tello


  Together, they stand in The Game’s dark hour, ironically among Michaels’s brightest days. The events of WWE’s greatest spectacle and a nightmarish, indestructible creature have brought Triple H—defeated by Undertaker—and Shawn Michaels—conversely radiant as newly christened WWE Hall of Fame inductee—even closer together tonight.

  They are two men who have so greatly affected sports entertainment both separately and collectively. There is no plummet too steep or accolade too rich that can come between them. For all his championships and credits, Michaels falls back on faith, family and friendship, all of which have only been strengthened by the squared circle.

  These past few days bear evidence that the dreams HBK once envisioned as a young boy in San Antonio have not only been fulfilled, but also unmistakably surpassed. And, after the performance given by his best friend and his gravest challenge live at WrestleMania XXVII, the retired Showstopper steps away freely, finding solace in the realization that even in his absence, the show will go on.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Tremendous thanks to Shawn Michaels, Rebecca, Cameron and Cheyenne—a beautiful family who welcomed me among them in their proudest hours. I appreciate not just the intimate adventure but also the legendary career that made this opportunity possible. Thank you, HBK, for the memories that inspired the person behind these words. To every WWE Superstar and employee whom I’ve ever had the great fortune to work beside, especially those at WWE.com: Thank you.

  In expressing my gratitude, I must also acknowledge the people who were genuinely invested in seeing it succeed and my own fulfillment as its author. Praise and thanks to . . .

  Rich Freeda, whose remarkable photography captured the poignancy of Shawn Michaels’s defining moment during WrestleMania week. Rich’s talent and sleep-deprived effort across four taxing yet professionally fulfilling days in Atlanta made this project (and many others) successful. No ham, no eggs. Pure class and a camera lens.

  My mom (a.k.a. Chief), for permitting me to order countless Pay-Per-Views, many of which are cited in this Diary. Not to mention the boundless love and encouragement, plus one heinous trip to MSG in my Hulkamania-yellow sweatsuit in 1991. Chris, who, just before leaving, made sure he gave me the big, strong push in this direction; and Stacey, John and Anthony, who cheer me on like they do Undertaker.

  Finally, my wife, Monika, for allowing me to leap around the country (and globe) in winded chase of a dream. Kocham cię.

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