The family won an $18 million out of court settlement for a wrongful death lawsuit. Owen's wife claimed the stunt had been practiced differently, and that the rigging had been criminally bungled.
This led family and friends to level accusations at the WWF that its response had been callous and profit-driven. The night's wrestling went ahead where Hart had died only minutes earlier, the mat allegedly still stained with his blood. As Sports Illustrated reports, rather unbelievably, the show continued. There was stunned disbelief at how the incident was managed. Like any sudden human tragedy, ripples fanned out in many directions and reverberated through society in unexpected ways. The crowd would gasp, then roar with laughter, and the performers would ride that collective wave of endorphins, nervous sweat, and stale popcorn to nail it in the ring. After milking ample opportunities to flex majestically in mid-air, Hart would use a quick-release cable to fall comedically from a safe distance. The plan was that he'd be lowered by a cable, beginning his descent far up in the rafters of the packed Kemper Arena in Kansas City. On the night in question, Hart was given a dramatically absurd entrance. It was at the height of "The Attitude Era" that Owen Hart sauntered into the public eye as the Blue Blazer: a perfectly unlikable superhero character decked out with a shimmering blue wrestling onesie, dashing Lucha Libre mask, and a decidedly Liberace-esque fur-lined cape. And just as importantly - or so it seemed to many at the time - the World Wrestling Federation (WWF) was rebranding itself as a bolder, edgier, more adult form of entertainment. Nintendo was basking in the glory of its freshly launched and insanely sophisticated new gaming platform, the Game Boy Color.
A 15-year-old nerd named Mark Zuckerberg was busy winning high-school math prizes.
0 kommentar(er)
