Because few before, during, or after combined insane bumps, great mic work, and (gasp!) superior in ring ability as a great match storyteller to put together a package quite like Cactus Jack. In the era of muscle, Foley carved a decidedly different niche, and for all of those who condemn him as, what Ric Flair and many others called him, a “glorified stuntman,” I feel for your wrestling viewing souls. Mick Foley was, and I suppose is, one of my top five favorite wrestlers of all time. I just want to preface this review with one item. But with time comes perspective, and with that, here is my review of Mick Foley’s “Hardcore Diaries.” It is my sincere hope that I stir those unwashed masses towards a book that I even found, initially, totally ungratifying. I wanted to appeal to a smarter audience, one that, while familiar with Foley and his authorial stylings, may have overlooked this tome. Both of those books will come a bit later. To pick one of the first two Mick Foley memoirs, “Have a Nice Day” or “Foley is Good.” Not so. I am sure most people who read this site would expect me to go the easy way.
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