The deliberate drumming in his trademark entrance music was unmistakable. The sparkling pyro undeniable. The crowd in the arena would always start chanting his name in unison in anticipation of his arrival.
When our fans looked toward the ring entrance way, the corridor would fill with smoke. And then, out of the smoky abyss, the bald chrome of the legendary hero would emerge. The legion of fans would erupt, waiting for the gladiator’s Adonis-like trapezius muscles and biceps to cut through the rest of the fog.
Then, reality would set in. The hero was, indeed, bald, and he wore black tights. And he had the same mannerisms and growl of a certain former WCW World Champion. But his neck was … let’s just say less-than-massive and had more of a “pencil-neck geek” aura. The biceps – if you could call them that – didn’t really cause Hulk Hogan sleepless nights. As the smoke cleared – and our hero choked on the fumes – it became painfully (yet amusingly) apparent that sometimes imitation, depending on whom you talk to, can be the finest form of flattery.
And that’s how Duane Gill, better known as Gillberg, will be best remembered by our fans and perhaps the object of his impression, Bill Goldberg. Gillberg was WWE’s playful poke at Goldberg during the height of the Monday Night War with WCW. Arguably, Gillberg personified the ruthlessness and aggression of the Attitude Era as much as “Stone Cold” Steve Austin – no one was exempt from parody and the gloves were decidedly off in the battle for Monday night supremacy.
So, all hail Gillberg bringing some fun and entertainment to sports-entertainment during his time in WWE. Sometimes, you can hear our fans chanting his name. “Gillberg … GILLBERG!!!”