I am a fan of the late Eddie Guerrero. His energy and his evident love of the business were very obvious to anyone who spent even a short amount of time watching him. Especially after he came back after he beat his demons, his gratitude for everything, for every breath he took, was evident in everything he did. He was probably one of the greatest in-ring entertainers of the last generation. I say this out of a deep respect for Mr. Guerrero and out of sorrow for his family and friends, but I also say this as a preface for what I'm about to say next.
I was just a fan. I never knew the guy, never even met him. I never spent the time on the road with him like his friends and coworkers, his family within the sports entertainment business. I never got a chance to see anything other than what he displayed for the world. Millions of us, his fans, never got a chance to see the man his friends, his family, his coworkers got to see, so while we the fans will remember him for a while, eventually, the only people for whom the loss will really hurt are his friends, his family, those who really knew him. I don't think we the fans will forget, at least not at first, but I don't think the loss will have the same kind of immediacy and pain for nearly as long. I think that's very sad, and I also think that's undeniably true. I realized that about a day after Mr. Guerrero was found dead in his hotel room, and ever since, I've been asking myself if I was a heartless bastard for thinking that. I still don't have my answer, and its absence haunts me.