Forgiven: One Man's Journey from Self-Glorification to Sanctification
340
Forgiven: One Man's Journey from Self-Glorification to Sanctification
340Hardcover
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Overview
Forgiven is the book that every wrestling fan has been waiting for. As lead writer, he took WWF’s flagship show Monday Night Raw to unimaginable heights, making it the highest rated cable program in television history. The stories of Bret Hart, Shawn Michaels, “Stone Cold” Steve Austin, The Rock, and the tragic death of Owen Hart are offered from Vince Russo’s perspective: he was part of it all, writing it all.
Here, Russo finally comes clean — to the fans, and more importantly, with himself. Russo offers his life, work, and very soul as a modern day parable about the price of success. In heartbreaking detail, he shows how a “godforsaken business” and the desire for acclaim led him, unwittingly, into a spiritual wasteland. Ultimately, Russo’s story is one of redemption as he finds guidance and forgiveness in God.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781550227048 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | ECW Press |
| Publication date: | 11/10/2005 |
| Pages: | 340 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.05(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
I hate Jeff. All these years thinking that he was a “true” friend … who was I kidding? Deep down he was always a wrestler, never caring about anybody but himself. You think by now, after being beat up in this God-forsaken business for more than 10 years, I would have learned my lesson. But, no — for some sick, demented reason I continue to believe in people — continue to believe they are honest, sincere … what a schmuck. Man, I loved the guy — from our days together in the World Wrestling Federation I thought Jeff Jarrett was the real thing — a true friend. I should have known there were no true friends in wrestling … only acquaintances. To think I went to bat for this guy — I put my job on the line for him. I fought JR, Bruce Prichard and Vince himself toe-to-toe when they saw nothing in him. And this is what I get, this is what it all comes down to. What’s going to happen to my friendship with his wife, Jill, a person who I care about dearly? And those adorable two kids — every year he would send me a Christmas card with Jocelyn and Jaclyn on it, and my hard heart would melt like a Hershey’s kiss left in the car on a summer’s day. Man, I love those kids. How could he do this to me? How could he chose this guy over me — a guy who personally attempted to hurt me and my family over nothing more than money, greed and power. Friendship is more than that. It has to be! This is my rock bottom. My heart, once fueled with love, is now hardened with hate. I never thought I would hate my best friend. Never, not Jeff, he was “different.” I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know where else to go. I can’t believe for one minute that this is it. I’ve spent my entire adult life on a journey to be the best I can possibly be. I forfeit my entire life, my family, my values and my morals to be labeled the most successful sports entertainment writer in the history of the business … and this is what it comes down to. As I free-fall down the mountain, my heart is calloused with such pain, such hate, such ugliness. So this is what it’s all about? This is the meaning of life? God creates you — and then the joke’s on you. Look at yourself. Look at what you’ve become. Your heart that was once filled with compassion and love is now fired by hate. For 42 years you have turned your back on me to get to this point in your life. I was always there — I was there from the moment you took your first breath. I was there to take care of you, to guide you, to protect you … to love you. Vince? Are you going to listen to me now? I knew that voice. My entire life I had heard it; just didn’t want to listen. Yes, I allowed it to guide me, but I would never completely give into it. I didn’t need it. Subconsciously, I knew what it was, who it was and what it wanted. But I chose not to listen. Now God was no longer taking no for an answer. The voice that once lay dormant in my heart was now screaming at the top of its lungs — God had seen and heard enough. At that moment, his spirit transcended from inside my body and blanketed me. I no longer had a choice — he was taking over whether I liked it or not. Following that moment of divine intervention, I was placed in my ’99 Jeep Wrangler and led to the local church, a place called North Metro that I had never been to before. Once inside the auditorium, I was directed by a bald-headed preacher, a six-foot-seven former University of Arkansas football player by the name of Mark Henry. That day, in front of a sold-out house, Mark Henry spoke directly to me. As I left the church that day it was clear: the old Vince was dead, and the new Vince had been born.
Reading Group Guide
I hate Jeff. All these years thinking that he was a “true” friend … who was I kidding? Deep down he was always a wrestler, never caring about anybody but himself. You think by now, after being beat up in this God-forsaken business for more than 10 years, I would have learned my lesson. But, no — for some sick, demented reason I continue to believe in people — continue to believe they are honest, sincere … what a schmuck. Man, I loved the guy — from our days together in the World Wrestling Federation I thought Jeff Jarrett was the real thing — a true friend. I should have known there were no true friends in wrestling … only acquaintances. To think I went to bat for this guy — I put my job on the line for him. I fought JR, Bruce Prichard and Vince himself toe-to-toe when they saw nothing in him. And this is what I get, this is what it all comes down to. What’s going to happen to my friendship with his wife, Jill, a person who I care about dearly? And those adorable two kids — every year he would send me a Christmas card with Jocelyn and Jaclyn on it, and my hard heart would melt like a Hershey’s kiss left in the car on a summer’s day. Man, I love those kids. How could he do this to me? How could he chose this guy over me — a guy who personally attempted to hurt me and my family over nothing more than money, greed and power. Friendship is more than that. It has to be! This is my rock bottom. My heart, once fueled with love, is now hardened with hate. I never thought I would hate my best friend. Never, not Jeff, he was “different.” I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know where else to go. I can’t believe for one minute that this is it. I’ve spent my entire adult life on a journey to be the best I can possibly be. I forfeit my entire life, my family, my values and my morals to be labeled the most successful sports entertainment writer in the history of the business … and this is what it comes down to. As I free-fall down the mountain, my heart is calloused with such pain, such hate, such ugliness. So this is what it’s all about? This is the meaning of life? God creates you — and then the joke’s on you. Look at yourself. Look at what you’ve become. Your heart that was once filled with compassion and love is now fired by hate. For 42 years you have turned your back on me to get to this point in your life. I was always there — I was there from the moment you took your first breath. I was there to take care of you, to guide you, to protect you … to love you. Vince? Are you going to listen to me now? I knew that voice. My entire life I had heard it; just didn’t want to listen. Yes, I allowed it to guide me, but I would never completely give into it. I didn’t need it. Subconsciously, I knew what it was, who it was and what it wanted. But I chose not to listen. Now God was no longer taking no for an answer. The voice that once lay dormant in my heart was now screaming at the top of its lungs — God had seen and heard enough. At that moment, his spirit transcended from inside my body and blanketed me. I no longer had a choice — he was taking over whether I liked it or not. Following that moment of divine intervention, I was placed in my ’99 Jeep Wrangler and led to the local church, a place called North Metro that I had never been to before. Once inside the auditorium, I was directed by a bald-headed preacher, a six-foot-seven former University of Arkansas football player by the name of Mark Henry. That day, in front of a sold-out house, Mark Henry spoke directly to me. As I left the church that day it was clear: the old Vince was dead, and the new Vince had been born.