Chris & Nancy

The True Story of the Benoit Murder-Suicide

& Pro Wrestling’s Cocktail of Death

By Irvin Muchnick

ECW Press

www.ecwpress.com

$19.95

Reviewed by Joe Babinsack

It would be unfair to suggest that Irvin Muchnick was seeking to explain why such a heinous crime was committed in late June of 2007. After all, the most pertinent quote, setting aside the rather pointed words of one victim before this quote, is by Michael Kinsley:

“The scandal isn’t what’s illegal. It’s what’s legal.”

The scandal isn’t exactly the double homicide and murder, and the destruction of a family steeped in the traditions and lore of modern day professional wrestling. Hardcore legends were both the mother and father of young Daniel Benoit. His mother, Nancy, was a figure of great notoriety in the 1980’s, and she continued her legendary career in both ECW and WCW in the 1990’s.

Cemented in legend, as well, was her previous marriage to the on-screen nefarious Kevin Sullivan, and the irony of the booking, the mind and creativity of the booker-man of Brian Pillman’s rants, the strange twists of reality and worked reality that culminated in divorce and marriage of the hardcore manager, and the darling of internet, hardcore and wrestling aficionados across the world.

In 2009, it’s still hard to write about Chris Benoit.

But the legacy of Benoit, up until that horrific weekend, up until the world discovered the tragedy on Monday, June 25^th, 2007, was one of intensity, awesome talent and overachievement. He was a true icon of the sport, someone who exuded realism, dedication and physical capability, even in the body of a cruiserweight, especially in the body of a cruiserweight jacked up to be able to compete with the big man mentality of the WWE.

Looking back, inhuman seems to be an apt description of the drive of the man, one of the last superstars of the Stu Hart era of Calgary Stampede wrestling, and someone who took the mantle of the Dynamite Kid to new heights, bigger championships, and ultimately, the biggest stage in the world as a singles competitor.

Unfortunately, and in the words of Mr. Muchnick, via Shakespeare, these star-crossed lovers had fate in their future, and it remains an unpleasant conversation.

I cracked open this book with dread and with anticipation. What could be learned that was already not splashed across the tawdry small screen, divulged in the celebrity magazines, writ in the small font of the Observer, blogged about ad nauseam on the internet. Well, to be fair, Irv Muchnick’s blog preceded his book, and was a source of ongoing discovery, informed speculation and a paper trail of many, many questionable acts and pronouncements.

Chris & Nancy is the compilation of Muchnick’s efforts, and while the result is somewhat frustrating, there’s no slam on Irv for that. Truly, anyone who looks at this situation and can tie it into a neat bow, ignoring the human tragedy, sweeping under the rug the vast ties to Pro Wrestling’s worst kept public secrets, and hoping that nothing would come from it, simply cannot be humane.

There are differences in perspective, but the crux of the issue is not up for debate.

That Chris murdered his family and took his own life simply cannot be debated at this point. As Irv points out, there may be those in oblivious fandom, in the cruel, hidden circles of the WWE, and in the PR hirelings of that same company – the world’s largest Sports Entertainment operation – that may have wished otherwise. And there’s one sentence in this book that sent a shiver up my spine, but it was quickly quashed, and I can’t believe such a thing to be possible.

Beyond the question of that reality, the questions spiral out of control, and Mr. Muchnick takes great pains in reigning them in.

What could have caused this?

What did the WWE do to mitigate the PR problems?

How did law enforcement approach the crime?

How did the media exploit it?

How did the government respond to this, in an environment of steroid investigations?

How did it impact the various investigations of drug abuse in the world of professional wrestling?

And, most seemingly importantly as a focus of the book, how did the WWE handle the big pictures and help to ensure that this was one more footnote in the dustbin of the history of untimely deaths of athletes associated with the professional wrestling industry?

Along the way, Muchnick had many battles, and he underlines them in his often uncanny thirst for the truth. Whether it was WWE management figures, names listed in the investigation in the employ of that same company, neighbors and friends, Sheriffs and DA’s, family of victims and perpetrator, and even wrestling industry insiders, Muchnick seemed to leave no stone unturned.

Because of that, the expected obstacles thrown in his path aren’t so hard to believe.

Yet, the crisscrossing of agendas, perspectives and intentions seemed to have strained some relationships to the breaking point. Muchnick’s agenda seems pure enough. He’s a journalist through-and-through, and a vastly talented one at that. His thirst for uncovering shady and unpleasant truths are on display, and one can neither ignore them, nor wish them away.

Yet along the way, any comingling of interests between author and father of the perpetrator, Michael Benoit, were broken. What seemed to be a natural alliance between journalistic efforts, between the author and Dave Meltzer, seemed to veer off into opposite directions. Seemingly, at some point, Muchnick picked up the unseemly baggage and ran with it, as far as he could, and in pursuit of some conclusion that, frustratingly never could be captured.

What conclusion can be made about a heinous crime of epic proportions?

The sad tragedy of the Benoit crime is that it lies on tangents of other scandalous, ongoing and incredibly damning threads that have plagued the industry.

·         Steroids and drugs are the ingredients of the titular “Cocktail of Death.”

·         Overbearing damage control of wrestling’s biggest employer and profit driven corporate survival instincts, despite the fatal conclusions, have yet to be properly addressed by law enforcement or governmental oversight.

·         The insane capacity of professional wrestling fans continue to absorb blow after blow, loss after loss, and an incremental indifference to what the business has become.

·         The indescribable frustration of the WWE’s ability to skate circles around laws, potential legislation, and all the while claiming that its contractual relationships mean that it cannot be held responsible for the actions of adults, all the while exploiting and controlling their every move – except for those actions which benefit corporate interests at the expense of the health of its performers.

·         And, we must add, that the mentality of mainstream journalists who are far too disinterested in digging and exposing lies, fatalities and not-so-complex relationships in an industry that they sneer upon instead of respect.

At times in this book, I realize that Irvin Muchnick is not exactly a professional wrestling fan. At times, I regret realizing that I am more a stereotypical fan/journalist than I ever imagined. (I can point out a half-dozen flaws in the book, and emailed Irv about a few of them. Strangely enough those are all about storyline issues and triviality at the base of a mountain of indescribably horror and tragedy. How’s that for a misguided and mangled perspective?!?)

What’s weird is that the typical Muchnick story dynamics don’t quite exist here. The tawdriness is public, not completely covered up like much of the Von Erich saga, where fans outside of Dallas, and the mainstream outside of Texas, were relatively ignorant of the goings on. This isn’t like the death of Nancy Argentino, filled more with mystery and even more mystery.

With the Benoit crime, the whodunit is obvious and the coverup is more of a technical nature. The WWE seemingly strained credulity in creating timelines, and it’s damage control – no longer the stuff of flushing drugs down a toilet – nonetheless was an attempt to buy time, get in front of the potential damage to the business, and to gain control of the ongoing issues.

Point is, the most important aspect of the story has been laid bare for two years, and the fact that this story isn’t enough to bring damnation down on the industry is the biggest frustration of all.

Irvin Muchnick is hell-bent on discovering the essence of the cover-ups, the nuts and bolts of the investigations that ignored a Stamford hacker much too quickly, and provides an insight into media manipulations and Congressional indifference, and to that end, he provides more details and more insights that ultimately increase frustrations, but at the same time, must be examined if you choose, like myself, to claim to be an informed fan of an industry that had its blissful ignorance torn to shreds.

We should all at least be trying to make better sense of it all, not pretending it never happened.

Joe Babinsack can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it