By "Net.cop" Scott Keith

You know, I was going to write something about Kevin Nash getting the short end of the stick, and bitching about WarGames and some other stuff, but really I couldn't get up the impetus to do it because I honestly don't care one way or another. Screw Kevin Nash, he's almost to the point of retirement anyway.

I want to talk about something else that a lot of fans without the necessary historical perspective seem to missing right now: History.

And for that reason I'd like to talk about my other favorite sport: baseball.

Right now, Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa are chasing a single-season home run record set by Roger Maris 37 years ago. McGwire is cranking out home runs and being made into a mythical figure by the press because of it. If he breaks the record -- which he will likely do by the weekend barring a heart attack or a sudden players' strike -- then the game, and specifically the home run, will be replayed ad nauseum on every major news channel and sports show in the civilized world until a good chunk of the population knows the name of Mark McGwire and remembers just where they were when they saw him hit #62.

Our generation, normally labelled a bunch of slacker do-nothings (perhaps rightly) has very little to etch itself into history with, aside from being around when Princess Diana died and the Berlin Wall fell. McGwire breaking the record will be another. There will be yet another, if everyone involved plays their cards right.

I'm referring, of course, to Stone Cold Steve Austin, the most popular professional wrestler in the history of the sport.

It amazes me how contemporary fans can so completely fail to realize the scale of what is going here with Austin. Let me repeat the last paragraph: Steve Austin is the most popular professional wrestler in the history of the sport. House shows sell out strictly on the promise of seeing him. T-shirts (more than 12 official and dozens of fakes at last count) sell at the rate of 1 every 40 seconds. Austin appeals to almost everyone in our culture and even non-wrestling fans have been known to wear "Austin 3:16" shirts. His mannerisms, look and catchphrases are rapidly becoming part of popular culture.

Hulk Hogan never even had close to that. He had the mainstream success with Hollywood, but as a wrestler and a representative of the sport, he was a joke, a caricature that people would point to and imitate to make fun of wrestling fans. Austin, on the other hand, has a character that mirrors the very people who make fun of wrestling.

You are witnessing history every day and might not even know it. People who were fans in 1987 can still remember Wrestlemania III vividly and instantly recall Ricky Steamboat v. Randy Savage because it was one of those moments. Burned into your brain long after the event ends and a part of the folklore.

And 10 years later, people will likely still remember his "Austin 3:16 says I just whipped your ass" speech at King of the Ring 96, and his ugly neck injury at the hands of Owen Hart, and his feud with Vince McMahon, because Austin is now part of the history machine that wrestling uses to promote itself long after the stars have faded. Austin has signed his name on the great wall of fame and now, 10 years from today, whoever is running the business will point to that wall and evoke those same memories in those same fans, maybe on a farewell tour for Austin, maybe on a video memorial after his untimely death, maybe just to reminisce.

And that's one of the great things about wrestling: It's a mythology, one of the few we have left today. No one ever remembers the storytellers, they just remember the stories. Eric Bischoff tries to desperately to put himself over, but when wrestling hits a low point again, he'll be fired by Time-Warner and become just another guy who helped build wrestling to where it is today. We, as fans, don't generally look back fondly on Jim Crockett for promoting the shows, we remember Ric Flair's performances on them.

There are lots of other people lucky enough to be around and in their prime today as Austin carries wrestling on his back. All you have to do is say "Hell in the Cell" to instantly bring back memories of Undertaker, Shawn Michaels or Mick Foley, depending on which you prefer. Mick Foley got sucked into the Steve Austin circle of influence and was transformed into a main eventer for the first time in his career and finally given the props he deserved for his years of service.

Austin was created because Monday Nitro's dominance was forcing the WWF to look for anyone with drawing power and potential to turn the tide. Which means that in executing his own selfish plan to make himself look better, Eric Bischoff ironically feuled the resurgance of wrestling as a whole and created Steve Austin's monster character, which amounts to one of the most selfless acts in the history of the sport.

Austin has been gaining steadily in popularity since 1996, non-stop, with very little backlash evident. The same cannot be said for the likes of Ulimate Warrior, Ahmed Johnson, Sid Vicious and other "great white hopes" for wrestling which have popped up in the past couple of years. Even Goldberg is very maligned by a sizable chunk of wrestling's fandom, something which cannot be said for Austin. He has almost universal popularity, while the jury is still out on Goldberg, a largely untested commodity.

What I'm saying is that if people argue that this generation has no mythology or heroes or contributions to history, you can argue right back that Steve Austin will likely outlive them all in wrestling history.

And so you may not realize it now, but when you buy that Austin shirt at a WWF show, you're probably buying a piece of history.

Hey, for 25 bucks, I'd say that's not such a bad deal.