So Jim Ross was the one who got fired on Monday night. Show of hands...who was surprised? Anyone? Unfortunately, I didn't think so. He was an easy target, being Stone Cold's buddy and all. A lot of the fans Todd Grisham talked to during the first WWE Unlimited segment of the night felt the same way. Either that, or they read it on the internet somewhere. Those guys are on the ball, man! They thought JR sucked anyway, so they should be happy. You know what would make me happy? Someone starting a rumor that I'm dating Maria or Candice...or better yet, both of them. Now THAT'S hot...oh, sorry, I tend to go off sometimes. The point is that JR is gone, and I for one feel that a little piece of me died on Monday night.

When I was a kid, I always wanted to grow up to be Gorilla Monsoon. Man, he was cool, wasn't he? My friends and I would sit in my living room, watching Gorilla and Bobby Heenan, or Jesse Ventura, or Lord Alfred Hayes, or whoever, and we'd sit in rapt attention as the Gorilla put everything into perspective. When Hulk Hogan slammed Andre the Giant, he was that familiar voice making that moment even more special. I have friends who use Gorilla-isms to this day, and I can still flip on WrestleMania III and pretty much sing along with his commentary. But no matter how many times he had to explain where the external occipital protuberance area was (it's the back of the head, FYI) or how many times he used the same cliche, it was like a warm security blanket. And deep down, you knew there was someone who loved the business telling you that Hulk Hogan was reaching down for that something extra.

Jim Ross was that kind of guy. Every time I turned on a WCW broadcast, I could count on JR telling me that Ron Simmons was a Football All-American. If I forgot that Dr. Death Steve Williams once wrestled with 108 stitches in his eye, he'd be there to remind me. I knew once a match turned into a slobberknocker it was a good one, unless it had bowling shoe tendencies. And hey, I'm a cat person, so until JR ingrained it into my head, I never knew what a scalded dog ran like or how nutty a pet raccoon actually was.

You can call it old-fashioned, and say that it's cliche. Me, I call it feel good familiarity. If you're a Yankee fan, you've probably heard Phil Rizzuto yell "HOLY COW!" several hundred times in your life. Football fans know that when Chris Berman is announcing NFL highlights, somebody COULD...GO...ALL...THE...WAY! Unfortunately for us, when we turn on RAW next week, a small piece of that familiarity will be gone, and things will never be the same.

And for that, I say thank you, Jim Ross. Thank you for a lifetime of being the voice of reason. Thank you for all the slobberknockers, jezebels, and lateral presses  one man could stand. If I know you as well as I think I do, I know that you'll survive, and that 45-12 score last weekend hurt you more than any kick in the nether regions ever would.

But on the bright side, maybe now that the Ross Report is gone from WWE, someone else will get the chance to give the fans something to look forward to every week. Hopefully, they won't stick the fork in me, Gorilla.