WWE Never Say Never: Bret Hart Returns to the WWE Following Montreal Screwjob
Every wrestling fan worth his or her salt has heard the story of the Montreal Screwjob that led to Bret Hart's unceremonious exit from the WWE. If not, wait. He'll retell the story soon enough.
Not since Art Modell shepherded the Browns to Baltimore has there been such an ugly divorce in sports or entertainment.
Bret Hart's shoot loss to Shawn Michaels at Survivor Series 1997 inside Montreal's Bell Centre makes Brett Favre's departure from the Green Bay Packers look like the end of a chick flick.
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Hart standing in the ring with a simultaneous look of confusion, disbelief and rage signaled the end of his iconic run with the WWF/E. It was a modern Greek tragedy. Except this was a Canadian version.
The hero's journey had ended. His pride, his arrogance, his passion, his patriotism and ultimately his trust had all betrayed him. Just as Vince, Earl, Shawn, Hunter and Pat had (h/t Hitman Hart: Wrestling With Shadows.) The only difference between this inside job and a mob hit was bloodshed.
Hart's post-match tantrum is the stuff of legends. Literally.
Here was a pro wrestling legend, slamming television monitors and breaking every piece of expensive WWE equipment in sight.
Even building security's delayed reaction was a point of intrigue, as no security guard immediately attempted to diffuse Hart's tantrum. If they weren't in on the screwjob, their passiveness was likely due to confusion. If they were in on the screwjob, their passiveness was likely to keep this delicate situation from degenerating into a riot.
In the early hours of the morning one day in 1984, Robert Irsay hijacked his own Baltimore Colts. He would move the franchise from Maryland to Indianapolis before fans even knew what hit them.
On that dubious night in 1997, Bret Hart could have sympathized with the contents of that truck. His life's work in shambles, forced to its next destination due to circumstances beyond his control.
Hart's rage toward the WWE hit a fever pitch on that night. It would not subside for more than a decade. He carried it with him to WCW. Facilitated by scatterbrained management, Hart seemed broken, even before suffering a career-ending injury at the right leg of Bill Goldberg.
He was never the same.
Bret Hart's departure from the WWE and subsequent grudge were beyond ugly. Any future relationship between Hart and WWE appeared to be the exception to the time-honored "never say never" rule in professional wrestling. ("Never say never—other than that Bret Hart thing.")
But on January 4, 2010, that rule was reinforced more than ever.
"I guess hell froze over" the grizzled Canadian stalwart said plainly. He was standing in a WWE ring for the first time in 13 years. Even more astonishing, this was not a one-off. It was the beginning of a long-term angle that would commence with a (kayfabe) match between Hart and Vince McMahon at WrestleMania XXVI.
The imperfect and, at times, overbooked angle did little to sully Hart's name. If anything, it solidified Hart's legacy. Bret Hart was back in the WrestleMania spotlight. He beat Vince McMahon on his own terms. He received the very closure that is largely elusive in this industry.
Finally.
And while ill will may still linger from Hart, this reconciliation should be considered a success. Bret's story can be told time and time again in the words of Bret, patronization, company lines or WWE bias not included.
The Montreal Screwjob became immortal in its infamy. Hart's public decision to let bygones be bygones had the same everlasting effect.
"Never Say Never" relives, reminds and projects implausible wrestling reconciliations and scenarios once considered impossible to even the most jaded fan.
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