I got the tickets to the AEW show in July, the minute they went on sale. All Elite Wrestling has kept my interest in professional wrestling when The Fed broke my heart. AEW carries the spirit of the wrestling from the early aughts I fell in love with. There was no way in hell I was missing my hometown show. 

The show was going to be the fall out from All Out. The possibilities were endless based on the card, based on everything happened the 26th of September. No matter what, it was bound to be legendary. 

Then, September 27th happened. The news of PAC’s sudden, unexpected passing spread like wildfire. The night before, watching the Andrade El Idolo vs PAC match, I had mentioned to my sister that I wanted PAC belted again badly so I would not be mad if the belt changed hands. After hearing the news, something in my mind would not accept the fact that the Man Gravity Forgot succumbed to the one universal constant that forgets no one. 

We quickly realized that Pittsburgh would be getting the tribute show. 

The fall out from All Out no longer mattered. Paying tribute to one of the most influential wrestlers to ever maneuver between the ropes took every precedent; not only to the wrestlers, but to the fans as well. 

There was a somber feeling going into the Petersen Events Center. I kind of had zero desire to be there. I could feel the grief. I worried about how devastated the wrestlers would be in such a tragic moment like this one. I then remembered that Mox had told Lance Archer and The Problem herself, Marina Shafir, that PAC would have wanted the show to go on. I told myself the show needed an audience, no matter what. Hearts were on the line. 

No one flatlined. 

The tributes to the Bastard, from spoken words from Hangman, Swerve and the rest, to the references to great rivalry matches were abundant yet never redundant. The Elite banded together again in memory of their ring mate. Will Ospreay hit a Black Arrow that stunned the crowds and speared itself into memory. Bryan Danielson came out of retirement and tagged with the stable that pushed him into it, proving that rivalries did not matter when it came to the fallen. There was not a single moment wasted.

And the crowd! There were ‘He’s our bastard’ chants at every opportunity. Mox got a hometown hero welcome (which is wild considering he’s from Cincinnati! If you know you know!). Shafir’s Brutalizer on Britt Baker (the actual hometown hero) was applauded, as was her subsequent reminder that she was no face. Every moment that could be met with thunderous applause and cheers was met with twice that. Pittsburgh had shown up and out for PAC in a way only my city could. You could feel how much this one wrestler, one wrestler in a shining sea of talented individuals putting their hearts and bodies on the line, truly meant to the entirety of the wrestling community. 

Mox came out after and addressed the crowd at the end of it all. He thanked PGH for being there and letting them put on this tribute to his fallen brother. He told us how, in an intimate moment that was more Ben than PAC, that they ‘were professionals who give a shit.’ He told us to surround ourselves with people who give a shit. To give a shit about the shit we do, no matter how mundane. 

Maybe that’s what made PAC the best at was he does did: He gave a shit. Everything he did, be it as a champion, as Neville, as the Bastard PAC…everything he did, he gave a shit. He put on the best match he possibly could. He brought out the best in his opponents. There was a reason wrestlers like Ospreay chased him to wrestle him no matter where they could. He pulled off moves many could only dream about. He was beloved by a legion of fellow wrestlers because of who he was inside and outside of the squared circle. He was an aspiration to is all, mark or wrestler, because of everything he stood for. 

The people who loved him, the company he called home, they put on one of the most spectacular wrestling shows ever. In his honor. The City of Champions celebrated the Bastard right proper. No tears were shed in vain. No moment was lost on those watching live or at home. It was the only proper send off for the Man Gravity Forgot. 

As for me, I’m gonna throw my heart out in front of me and fucking run to catch it, just like he said. I might never be able to perform a Black Arrow but I can don Full Gear and put my whole soul behind whatever I do. 

It’s what the Bastard inspired me to do.