Sickened

The sixth anniversary of the Chris Benoit double murder-suicide is just a few weeks ago. Whenever I think back to the time the realisation dawned on me that Benoit had murdered his wife and son before killing himself, I recall how sickened I felt by it all.

I had supported him from the summer of 1995 so that early morning of June still gives me a shudder. I didn't think anything could top, or even match, how appalled I felt to be a wrestling fan that day.

Until a week ago.

Buck Zumhofe was charged with twelve counts of sexual misconduct towards his own daughter.

The story is so messed up. Zumhofe didn't know his daughter until she was thirteen years old. When she was fifteen, she began living with him. According to the criminal reports, once she was a resident at the household, the abuse began.

The crimes aren't what has sickened me, though.

Don't get me wrong - the acts are dreadful. It's just that the Fred West and Josef Fritzl cases have proven that these disgusting things happen.

What separates Zumhofe from the other two is that - according to the county attorney who put the charges forward - people within wrestling (more than likely the independent crew he worked with rather than anyone from the major companies) knew about Zumhofe and his daughter and did nothing about it.

Shame on those who knew.