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Hitman: My Real Life in the Cartoon World of Wrestling

Hitman: My Real Life in the Cartoon World of Wrestling

4.6 74
by Bret Hart

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Forget everything you thought you knew about the insane world of professional wrestling. The sixth son of legendary Canadian wrestling promoter Stu Hart, Bret Hart was born into wrestling royalty. From his early twenties until he retired at forty-three, Hart kept an audio diary, recording stories of the wrestling life: the relentless travel, the practical jokes,


Forget everything you thought you knew about the insane world of professional wrestling. The sixth son of legendary Canadian wrestling promoter Stu Hart, Bret Hart was born into wrestling royalty. From his early twenties until he retired at forty-three, Hart kept an audio diary, recording stories of the wrestling life: the relentless travel, the practical jokes, the sex and steroids and cocaine, and the real rivalries (as opposed to the staged ones that unfolded before the fans).

While Hart achieved superstardom in pink tights and won multiple wrestling belts in multiple territories (Stampede Wrestling, WWE, WCW to name a few), he also paid a severe price in betrayals and in tragic deaths, inlcuding the horrifying loss of his brother Owen, who died in a ring stunt gone wrong. Shortly thereafter, Bret suffered a massive stroke, likely resulting from a concussion he received in the ring, but with the spirit of a true champion, has battled his way back.

Widely considered by many of his peers as the greatest technician and worker of his generation, Hart is proud that in all his years in the sport, he never seriously hurt a single wrestler, yet did his best to deliver to his fans an experience as credible as it was exciting. No one has ever written about wrestling like Bret Hart because no one has ever lived a life like Bret Hart. These are the words of the Hitman.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

Hart's account of his professional wrestling career is almost literally blow-by-blow, with detailed descriptions of the choreography of many of his most prominent matches in the former World Wrestling Foundation and the now-defunct World Championship Wrestling. (And, yes, he freely admits that the outcomes are determined in advance, while the wrestlers work out the actual moves for themselves.) To hear him tell it, everybody hailed him as "the best damn worker in the business," a storyteller with the comparative artistry of a De Niro. But the manipulative schemes of WWF head Vince McMahon (and several of his colleagues) kept Hart from reaching his full potential as a champion until injuries sidelined him for good. The memoir goes deep into Hart's family history-his father was one of the pioneers of the Canadian pro wrestling circuit, and his brothers and brothers-in-law followed him into the business. Wrestling fans will eat up all the backstage drama, but even those who don't care for the shows should be impressed by Hart's meticulous eye for telling detail-the bittersweet story that results is simultaneously a celebration and an exposé. 32 pages of photos. (Oct. 8)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Kirkus Reviews
One of pro wrestling's biggest stars tells it like it was, with an obscene amount of detail. Few are better qualified than Hart to relate the story of how a family-friendly, locally oriented sport run by curmudgeonly promoters was steamrollered by the Hulk Hogan-fueled WWF marketing machine. Likely the most popular wrestler to ever come from Canada, the author grew up in Calgary, one of many sons of wrestling promoter Stu Hart, whose televised bouts were staples for decades. The Hart family basement passed into legend as "the dungeon," a place where Stu put top wrestlers through his grueling moves. The author's loving depiction of his cranky, painfully honest, perpetually broke father is a high point of this bloated memoir. Hart also vividly depicts the threadbare but thrilling family business he grew up in, with its road trips in crowded vans, meager pay, clownish ring antics and solid sense of brotherhood. But in 1983, hungry New York promoter Vince McMahon Jr. started televising his matches in other promoters' territories, necessitating a 1983 gathering in Las Vegas that Hart compares to "a meeting of Mafia dons protecting their turf." With the coming of the louder, meaner WWF, he laments, "something uniquely vaudevillian was lost forever." Nonetheless, it was only after Hart joined McMahon that he became an international star. McMahon's steroid-pumped musclemen were often not even wrestlers, the author admits, but since it was the only game in town he soldiered on, reaping millions in the process. Unfortunately, nearly two-thirds of the text focuses on Hart's fights with the untrustworthy McMahon and squabbles with siblings, rendering much of the book a tiresome bore. Excessive scoresettling smothers a pungent account of wrestling's changing of the guard.

Product Details

Grand Central Publishing
Publication date:
Product dimensions:
5.90(w) x 8.90(h) x 1.80(d)

Read an Excerpt


It seemed like an eternity until the pastor called me to the podium. I rose slowly from my seat, away from the insulation of loved ­ones–­Julie, our four kids, my friend Marcy and Olympic wrestling champion Daniel Igali. I felt them all take a deep breath as I made my way to the ­aisle.

My father’s funeral service was held on October 23, 2003, at the biggest church in Calgary, yet it overflowed with an eclectic throng of thousands who came to pay their respects to the legendary Stu Hart, ­old-­time pro wrestling promoter ­extraordinaire.

I moved slowly, a silent prayer resounding in my head, “Please, God, help me make it through.” I am an experienced public speaker, but my confidence had been shattered by a major ­stroke.

It hadn’t been that long since I’d been trapped in a wheelchair, paralyzed on the left side, unsure whether I’d ever walk again. Since then I’d been having emotional meltdowns triggered by the most unlikely things; this is common among stroke victims. I didn’t know how I was going to deliver a eulogy worthy of my father and not break down. It was also hard for me to walk tall when I felt so many eyes measuring the difference between what I was ­now–­my body stiff, the chiselled edges softened–­to what I’d been.

But when I walked past the pew where my brothers and sisters ­sat–­my limp more noticeable than I wanted–­I sensed, perhaps for the first time in our lives, that they were all behind me, even those with whom I’d had differences. Do it for Dad, Bret. Do it for all of us. Do us proud. There’d been twelve Hart kids, and now there were ten. Our beloved mother, Helen, had died just two years earlier. We’d all been through so much, travelled such a long, long road.

This wasn’t just the end of my father’s life, this was something deeper, and I think we all felt it. So many times over so many years I truly thought this godforsaken business was dead to me, but this was the day pro wrestling died for me–­for good.

In the front pew sat Vince McMahon, billionaire promoter of the WWE (once the WWF), who’d made a failed attempt to steal my dignity, my career and my reputation. Beside him sat Carlo DeMarco, my old friend turned loyal McMahon lieutenant. They were doing their best to look dignified, but I knew–­and they knew I knew–­that McMahon’s presence at Stu Hart’s funeral was more about image than anything else. It only made me more determined to climb the steps with my head held high. You don’t matter to me any more, Vince. I survived you, and everything else too. I had thought it was wrestling’s darkest hour when I’d had my heart cut out in the middle of the ring by that son of a bitch. Then the Grim Reaper of wrestling took my youngest brother, Owen, and that was the blackest day.

Keep walking, I told myself, for Davey, Pillman, Curt, Rick, Liz . . . so many of us are gone, so young, and directly on account of the wrestling life. Hell, even Hawk. People told me he had wept like a baby when he heard Stu had died of pneumonia at eighty­three . . . and then Hawk died that very night. One more for the list. And surely not the last.

I reached into my breast pocket and took out my notes, carefully unfolding them on the slippery, polished surface of the oak podium. I surveyed the crowd, my gaze stopping at the young apprentices, Chris Benoit, Edge and Storm, who looked back at me with respectful anticipation. Next I glanced at a company of stalwart ring veterans–The Cuban, Leo, Hito, even Bad ­News–­all more ruminative and melancholy than I’d ever seen them. I read it in their faces, the unspoken truth that burying a man like Stu Hart was truly the end of what we had lived ­for–­and too many had died for.

And then the sight of old Killer Kowalski, in his good suit, transported me back four decades, to before Owen was even born.

I am a survivor with a story to tell. There’s never been an accurate account of the history of pro wrestling. All the public knows is what is packaged and sold to them by the industry. Since I’m no longer in the business, I’m in a decent position to tell the truth, without fear of recrimination. With this book, which is based on the audio diary I kept through all my years in wrestling, starting in my early twenties, I want to put you in my shoes so you can experience what pro wrestling was like in my era, through my eyes. It’s not my intention to take needless jabs at those who made the journey with me, but I’ll pull no punches either. Not here.

Wrestling was never my dream, and all too often it was my nightmare. Yet ingrained in me from birth was the instinct to defend it like a religion. For as long as I can remember, my world has been filled with liars and bullshitters, losers and con men. But I’ve also seen the good side of pro wrestling. To me there is something beautiful about a brotherhood of big, tough men who only pretend to hurt one another for a living instead of actually doing it. I came to appreciate that there is an art to it. In contrast to my father, who loved to proudly tell people who the real tough guys, or shooters, of his generation were, I can just as proudly tell you who the great workers, or pretenders, of my generation were. Unlike so many wrestlers with their various made­up names and adopted personae, I was authentic, born Bret Hart into a wrestling world I couldn’t escape. I can’t say life’s been easy, but I can say it’s been interesting.

I’ve always thought of myself as a quiet, easygoing kind of guy, and I believe I was well respected by most of my peers. Some have labelled me as arrogant, and others say I lacked charisma. Admittedly, I wasn’t the best talker or mic man in the business, but I more than made up for it with my technical proficiency in the ring. I don’t think anyone can rightly dispute that I was a wrestler who put the art first and gave everything I had to the business–­and to the fans.

I’ve always been grateful to have been a world champion who actually did travel the world. People from all walks of life, from New York to Nuremberg, from Calgary to Kyoto, have told me that I inspired them in some way and that I represented everything that was decent about pro wrestling, the way it used to be, when there was still honour in it. It seems like all the world loves an honest battler.

I worked hard to bring out the best in my opponents. I gratefully acknowledge the hundreds of wrestlers I worked with in thousands of matches over twenty­three years, and am proud that I never injured another wrestler to the point that he couldn’t work the next day. Regrettably, I can’t say the same about some of those who worked with me. I took it as a challenge to have a good match with anybody. I respected both the green­horn jobbers, whose role it was to lose or put me over, and the old-timers, the big tough men of wrestling who allowed me the honour of standing over them with my hand raised. I refused to lose to a fellow wrestler only once in my career, and that was because he refused to do the same for me and others.

The public record is filled with false impressions of me from those who think they know me. Sadly, that includes some members of my own family. My youth wasn’t as loving and sweet as the fable that’s been perpetuated in wrestling lore. I’ve been hurt and betrayed by some of my brothers and sisters, yet I don’t feel I ever let them down. Some of them sometimes behave as though they begrudge what I’ve achieved, even though I’ve paid my dues in ways they can’t even imagine. The truth is, my family knows very little about me.

It wasn’t easy growing up the eighth of twelve kids, with seven brothers and four sisters. As a child I was drawn to my sweet mother and intimidated by my gruff father. Stu had a temper so fierce that some would consider his corporal punishment child abuse. Too many times I limped around bruised and battered, my eyeballs red and ruptured because of his discipline. On more than a few occasions I thought I was going to die before he was done with me. Often, as I was on the verge of blacking out from some choke hold of Stu’s, he’d huff, “You’ve breathed your last breath.”

My father was two different people. At an early age I began to call one of them Stu, and I was terrified of him. Dad was the father I loved. When I was little I used to think Stu overlooked the bad behaviour of his favourite kids and ignored the goodness in the kids who didn’t matter as much to him. Looking back I can see that he was hardest on the ones he thought had the most potential. He instilled in me a tenacious drive to succeed by implanting in me his own strong fear of failure. For most of my youth, he teetered on the brink of bankruptcy while I feared becoming the first Hart kid to fail a grade in school. My empathy with his fear connected us.

Like my father, I developed at least a couple of alter egos. At home I kept to myself and generally did whatever my older brothers told me to do; it was just easier that way. At my father’s wrestling shows every Friday night, I played Joe Cool, popular with the girls and on top of the world–­all part of the show. At school I was shy, but the fights were real. All the Hart kids were bullied for wearing hand-me-downs, and I was always scrapping to defend the family honour. The wrestling fans on Friday nights had no idea that I often attended school wearing shorts in the winter because that’s all I had, or that I got my first pair of new runners when I was fourteen.

Later on in life I was one guy on the road, another at home and yet another in the ring. Which one is truly me? They all are.





My earliest memory of wrestling goes back to 1960, when I was three years old. There were nine Hart kids then, and we were huddled in the kitchen on a Friday night, watching my dad’s TV show on a flickering black-and-white screen. My mom, pregnant with Ross–­it seemed like she was always pregnant then–­held my baby sister Alison in her arms. Though back then she never liked to watch wrestling, she, too, was riveted to the TV as Sam Manecker, the wrestling announcer, repeated frantically, “Kowalski has broken Tex McKenzie’s neck! He’s broken his neck!” My eyes popped out of my head and my mouth hung open. I was watching my very first wrestling angle.

Tex was a handsome, dark-haired cowboy. I loved cowboys, and I was wearing my Roy Rogers holster and six-shooters at that very moment. Killer Kowalski was an agile, baldheaded brute with an angry scowl on his face. Just as I was wondering what kind of man calls himself Killer, Kowalski climbed to the top of the corner ring post and leaped off, high and hard, driving his knee into Tex’s neck. Now Tex lay there quivering, his cowboy boots shaking and kicking.
We watched the ambulance attendants load Tex tenderly onto a stretcher, sliding him out and under the bottom rope. Manecker said Tex might be paralyzed. I asked my ten-year-old brother Bruce, my most reliable source of information, what that meant. Bruce stared hard at the television. “It means he’ll never, ever walk again.”

Suddenly Killer was back up on top of the turnbuckle, and he jumped off and landed on Tex, knocking him off the stretcher and onto the floor. The audience screamed, and the stretcher-bearers ran for cover. I was terrified. Kowalski really was a damn killer!

It didn’t occur to me to wonder why Smith, my oldest brother, who was twelve at the time, had such a big grin on his face. He remarked on how well Tex was selling it. From what I could tell, poor Tex wasn’t selling anything. And I couldn’t understand why my tender-hearted mom seemed more concerned about how well the match came across on TV than whether Tex would ever walk again. Only much later did I realize that she was happy my dad’s TV show was back on the air; they could catch up on the bills again.

That night the Hart brothers stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, talking about the match. Even though it was all so frightening, it was very exciting too! I was relieved to hear my older brother Dean say that my dad was not only the toughest, greatest wrestler of them all, but that he could tie that Killer Kowalski up into knots any time he wanted. Our dad was utterly invincible.

I shared a bed with Bruce, who looked after me most of the time back then. When he got up early every morning to milk Daphne the cow, I’d sit on the warm radiator and watch him from the big picture window of the boys’ room, walking down past the front of the house in his blue-checkered flannel jacket, swinging the milk pail. In the distance, I could see the sprawling city of Calgary glinting in the early-morning light and the Bow River winding through the valley. I knew even at that young age that way out there past those lights was New York City, where our mom came from. New York City was where our mom met Stu.

My dad was born in Saskatoon in 1915 and grew up in Edmonton in extreme poverty. He managed to lift himself up out of poverty through his drive to succeed and his athletic ability. He spent a lot of time hanging around the YMCA in Edmonton and got into amateur wrestling and football. He was a kicker and defensive tackle with the Edmonton Eskimos in the late thirties. But what he really excelled at was wrestling.

From the Hardcover edition.

Meet the Author

Though Bret Hart is now retired from wrestling, he is recognized around the world as one of the all-time greats. In 2006 he was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame. He lives in Calgary.

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Hitman 4.6 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 74 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Bret Hart is a man that has experienced every aspect of the professional wrestling business. He was born into a wrestling family, for those of you that have been living under a rock. By the time he was in his mid-twenties, Bret had been trained in "The Dungeon" (I feel no need to expound on what an honor, yet how painfully brutal this experience was for every person whom walked out of that basement of horrors and made it to the big-time), been a champion for his father's fledgling Stampede promotion, and reluctanty been made a "booker" (wrestling vernacular for the person designated to write continuing storylines and the "law", if you will, when it came time that one of the wrestlers did not want to cooperate. Then Vince McMahon and the (then called) WWF came calling and brokered a deal with Stu, Bret's father and owner of the Stampede promotion. This,in turn, led for Bret and a few of the top guys to be "called up" to the WWF. This is as far as I will go, but I do not exaggerate when I say that this is, in my not-so-humble opinion, the BEST wrestling autobiography I have EVER read. Bret wrote his story in a folksy, yet whimsical prose that is not only easy to read AND understand, but is factual, blunt and honest as well. ENJOY!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This autobiography takes you from the time Bret Hart was born until now. It is written as if Hart was sitting across the table from you and he was telling you the story of his life.

It is not an expose of the world of wrestling but he is open and honest about what goes on behind the scenes and in the ring. I knew that pro wrestlers have a tough road to go but didn't know it went this far. He tells of living quarters on the road, relationships between the wrestlers, dealings with promoters, family relationships, toll on the wrestlers bodies, business within pro wrestling & the different promotions, how some moves are done and the psychology of the matches, plus so much more.

I was not a Bret Hart fan before but now I am. I stopped watching wrestling about the time Hart was becoming famous with The Anvil. Just recently, I have started watching again. But after reading Hart's book, I watch the wrestling differently now. I am now watching the psychology of the matches, how the moves are being done and if it is a believable story line. My view of who the "bad" or "good" guys has also changed.

I highly recommend this book if you're a Bret Hart and wrestling fan or not. Just the study of one man's climb to the top, the business side of wrestling or the history that is presented is well worth the read!
ProseSax More than 1 year ago
This book will attract all the fans of wrestling books for all the usual reasons: behind the scenes looks at the wrestling biz; stories behind favorite matches and rivalries, and so on.
But it soon becomes obvious that "Hitman" is so much more than just another wrestler's book. First is the simple heft of the book. With two copies, you could do arm curls! Has ANY pro athlete examined their life so thoroughly? Second, is the lack of the telltale phrase 'as told to', or 'with'. Bret's twenty years of cassette diaries are his memory aid and his editor.
It came as a complete surprise to me that there were no parts of this 592 page book that made me want to skim through to "the good parts". The dynamics of the large Hart clan are every bit as engrossing as the turmoil and camaraderie of the wrestling fraternity. Each Hart brother and sister emerge as a complete, complex personality and you feel the mix of love and frustration that come out of such a tangled environment with such obviously loving parents.
Equally rare in any "star" biography is an honest admission of lapses in judgment, bad moves, or any rash action that a ghost writer will help sweep under the rug. There are passages of fanciful justification (my womanizing was better than drugging or boozing-at least I didn't die), but for the most part it feels like you're getting a balanced look at a marriage that featured a fair amount of insensitivity by both parties.Given that there is no off-season in pro wrestling, it's a miracle that ANY life partnerships survive, during or after a career.
To keep this review shorter than the book, I will say that the in-ring stories are everything a fan would want, with a level of detail you never get. It's all here: the Hart Foundation, the "screwjob" in Montreal, the strange WCW years, the incredibly strong connection with the fans, the pride in never having injured another wrestler. There is also enough fine writing about Bret's world travels to indicate he could write some very interesting tourist guides. And the word 'potatoed' is now a verb I have access to.
On a very personal level, his recuperation from a stroke gave me a link to my own father, whose recovery was something he could never articulate. Now I think I have some insight into the torment he went through learning to walk and talk again. Also like my father, Bret's considerable skills as a cartoonist were a constant outlet for communication.
In sum, give this book to the wrestling nut in your life (along with Bret's equally moving DVD set, if you REALLY love 'em), and in the rare moments that they set it down, take a peek, and get pulled into a fascinating world.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I used to watch wrestling years ago and as a result I've read several books from Pro-Wrestlers. Most I'd consider forgettable fluff, like Chyna or even the Hulkster, but I knew I couldn't skip this one after viewing his documentary years ago on how Vince screwed Bret. I have to say Bret Hart's book is the best of the bunch and enjoyed him telling things like it is especially the business end of things which I ate up with a spoon. I could not put the book down (it's a big book) as it was fascinating more so the last 200 pages when he got into his problems with McMahon and Shawn Michaels who I'll never look at the same way.

I would have liked him going into more detail about his possible relationship with the diva Sunny which was alluded to they might have been something. It was odd because he was forthcoming with other memorable women.

The thing I took away after reading the book was there were some geniune flaws to Bret and he overly played the victim at times. I read that clearly when during his time in the WCW he receives a concussion from a kick from another wrestler. He really bothered me he didn't get it checked out on his own. He just kept going to shows and telling the writers/handlers he might have a concusion and should go easy (which they rarely allowed him). He then had some time off and still didn't go see a doctor so when it was time to go back to work he once again complained of a concussion to everyone at WCW who basically ignored him until a few months after the injury he had it checked out. That didn't make sense to me. He should have immediately gone to a doctor even just to prove he had one instead of repeatedly playing victim. A few moments like that made me see there might be some validity to other wrestlers/family members griping about him being a whiner.

But all that aside I thought it was a great read and I came away liking him even more than before despite my lengthy annoyance at the concussion incident:) I also came away disliking some wrestlers as well. Fun read.
David-T More than 1 year ago
This book was written with no punches held back. Bret was brutally honest about those around him and most importantly himself. He painted himself as human with weaknesses and problems like everyone else. He tells about life as he saw and lived it on the road. He tells of friendships that came and went and those that lasted (unfortunately many of those friendships lasted to his friends' graves). He tells of his relationship with WWE owner Vince McMahon: the good, the bad, and the ugly. He tells of his time in WCW and how out of control the company and its' writers were. He tells of his comeback from a stroke. He also tells of many people that he ran into that touched him deeply that no one ever heard of such as people battling illnesses that melted his heart and in some cases showed him how self-centered that other wrestlers were by ignoring a dying fan that wanted nothing more than to meet their hero. He tells of family issues involving siblings battles over family members trying "to sponge" off of their parents and the outfall of the death of his brother Owen. Bret freely admits in no uncertain terms he is no saint, but he was always honest to every one else and he tried to he honest to himself. He also shows that professional success, celebrity, and money don't always mean happiness. I had always viewed Bret as my hero, but through this book I grew to respect him as a person.
JosephCopeli More than 1 year ago
Hitman: My Real Life in the Cartoon World of Wrestling describes in great detail the life of one of the greatest professional wrestlers of all time, as written by himself. Bret Hart paints a vivid picture of living at the legendary Hart house: what it was like to grow up poor in a huge family whose financial fortune was slowly sinking due to an unprofitable wrestling promotion that daddy Stu Hart wouldn't close. Having tough old Stu as a father and many older brothers hardened Bret, but for some reason it didn't embitter him. As his brothers and sisters backstabbed him and each other many times, Bret remained considerate and helpful when he could. As a child of the 80s, my favorite parts of the books were Bret's descriptions of the fledgling WWF and it's subsequent monopoly over the pro wrestling business. Although his version of events seem a little bit one-sided, Bret reports many instances of being the nice guy while other wrestlers manipulated, cajoled and strong-armed their way to fame and riches. I couldn't help but feel Bret was naïve until the very end in his dealings with Vince McMahon, owner of the WWF/WWE. In his writing, it comes through that he knew McMahon was sneaky but let Vince walk all over him anyway. Despite his attempts at objectivity, it's pretty clear from his first mention of him that Bret wasn't too fond of Shawn Michaels. I'm no fan of Michaels myself, but I could understand how he could negatively interpret some actions that Bret took against him, both in the ring and out. Bret took great umbrage at the direction pro wrestling was going and the people that were blocking him from having a better career, but from my perspective, it seemed like an old horse being angry at the road for having cars on it. Wrestling was changing and at the time, Bret didn't see that he didn't fit very well into what wrestling was morphing into: a more risque, even sleazy, harder and more dangerous form of entertainment. I'm sure many wrestling fans would be interested in picking up this book for Bret's side of the infamous "Montreal Screwjob," the event at which McMahon promised to allow Bret to keep the World Championship, but then ended the match abruptly to make it seem as if Bret had succumbed to a submission hold by Shawn Michaels (Bret's own Sharpshooter hold, in fact). Although it was disappointing to read about how Bret was forced out of the WWF unceremoniously instead of graciously, it wasn't this part of the book that struck me emotionally. For me, it was the end of Bret's career at rival promotion WCW and the aftermath that were very difficult to get through. Bret's career ended because of a kick from an inexperienced wrestler that caused a concussion. Bret ignored the concussion, letting it get worse until a doctor told him he would end up worse that Muhammad Ali if he didn't stop wrestling immediately. The last part of the book is devoted to a description of Bret's stroke and recovery. It's heart-wrenching read, as it usually is when reading about a strong hero weakened by injury or old age. For a wrestler/professional athlete, Bret is a very capable writer. Some of his descriptions of his matches get repetitive after a while and he refers to too many matches as "the best match [he] ever had." He does a good job describing most typical wrestling terms... [Due to BN.com's character limit, the rest of this review can be found at FingerFlow.com]
RobertBolton More than 1 year ago
So, I have finally finished reading Bret Hart's book entitled "Hitman". Wow!! What an awesome book it is. I can honestly say that it is one of the best and most interesting books that I have EVER read. I have always had much respect for Bret. I guess deep down-regardless of the Hulk Hogans, Ultimate Warriors, etc.-Bret has always been my favorite wrestler. He has always been "the best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be". I am so happy for his recovery and his happy ending with a beautiful bride. I have the utmost respect for Bret. He is so honest-more honest than many and he is not afraid to tell you the truth (even if it means making himself look morally lacking). I don't condemn him at all. I know what it is like to struggle with lust and often lose. It can take hold and lead to many other things: fornication, adultery, pornography, etc. I have tried to battle the lust demon and have often times been defeated. Who can judge Bret for what he did (other than God of course)? Any red-blooded man would probably have succumbed to the same temptations. When you are that rich and famous, saying no to the women can be a hard thing to do indeed. This book tells the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I was quite impressed with Bret's honesty and his amazingly vivid details and his ability to recollect. He does have quite the story to tell and I thank God Almighty that he is still here to tell it. Interestingly, I have some things in common with Bret Hart. We both had our dreams taken away from us (wrestling was his life and it was taken from him, much like my dream of being a teacher was taken from me by our so -called society). Things sure didn't go the way we planned for them to. Bret Hart is a literary genius and a wonderful storyteller as well. Sure, some will say that wrestling is "fake", but the pain that Bret has gone through is very real. There are no scripts given to you in advance when your brother dies, you have a stroke, you lose your marriage and your parents, etc. This stuff is all too real and wrestling is just a backdrop in this story of life. I thank Bret for his honesty and for his dedication and commitment to success. He has always been a damn hard worker and he deserves all of his blessings-both financial and otherwise. This book is NOT G-rated, but it is very real, heartfelt, and genuine. I can't say enough about it or say anything to give it justice. EVERY true wrestling fan owes it to himself or herself to read the true story of this amazing individual. He pulls no punches and really shows you what the world of wrestling is like. I hope my own story has a very happy ending. I hope I was not too bitter and resentful in my own written work. I may come across as a guy who seems combative, but all I truly desire is peace, love, honesty, and respect. I know Bret feels the same way and I am honored to have been able to read about this rollercoaster account of his life.
Soup2183 More than 1 year ago
Most wrestling books are just as phony as the predetermined outcome of their craft. I've always considered Bret Hart to be the best wrestler I've ever seen, and this book follows suit. Thanks to him keeping an extensive audio diary, he vividly remembers the slightest details of his worldly adventures. He seems to give the honest treatment to even the toughest aspects of his life.. marriage and infidelities, relationships with his family (both blood and professional) and opens up about the steriod-era.

It is a great read and I recommend it to anyone who was a wrasslin fan between 1980-2001.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Go to ninja res one please. Im locked out. Im somebody talking for Zixzan.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
You sure?:<
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Every time adversity tried to pin The Hitman, he locked in the Sharpshooter and came out victorious.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
It is a good story, real, solid, and human. I feel almost like I know wrestling better. Bret's perspective on pro wrestling is one whose lore is fresh to me. Worth reading.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Very candid and straight forward account of Brett Hart's wrestling career and personal triumphs/struggles.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
TheLoneWolfGB More than 1 year ago
By far the best wrestling bio I have read. Even non-wrestling fans would like this book. From the birth of Bret Hart until the end I didn't want to put it down.
neonned More than 1 year ago
so many of the names in this book brought back different memories that it was like reading about old friends! you definitely have to be an old wrestling fan to follow along with it all I LOVE IT!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Bret's expose of his world in wrestling is matched only by the Beach Boys' bio "Heroes and Villains". This is a story about real life and gives the reader an inside look at this volatile career path and how it affects all involved. The real view of life as a Hart child is very informative and takes the reader behind the "squeaky clean" public view to see what happed with the family and its legendary business, "Stampede Wrestling". If you are a wrestling fan this one's for YOU!!