Easter Sunday marks the greatest of all comebacks, so with that in mind, we’re counting down history’s 3 greatest comebacks.
When you’re a winner, when you’re down, you’re not out. A true champion knows that the lowest of the lows are merely the first step toward the cliff, toward the face, toward the lip of glory.
A true champion is never out until it quits.
2015: Double Denim’s blindside rush
This ancient juggernaut, once the undisputed enforcer of the bitter slick battlefield known as the ‘catwalk’. The natural force known as ‘Double D’ was cruelly blindsided by the changing winds of fate in the late 1990’s. Suddenly, the chorus turned, for once there was cheering, now there were only boos. Only a handful of supporters remained. For Double Denim, this was a fact, hard to admit. For a decade, it was all. So, for two more, it lay dormant, until the autumn of 2015 when it burst loose from the closet once more.
With vengeful purpose.
Sidestepping the questions about its previous form, Double Denim shrugged off its ‘too old’ tag and found the shoulders of acceptance once more. The ‘Blue Curtain’ was back, toiling to serve those who understand its truculent creed:
Robert Downey Jr – The Road to Recovery (1996-Present)
O, how the road is marked with the mistakes of thy youth. Tall words typed upon the index of history’s notepad, the foolscap pages torn out by the cold hands of fate. The year is 1996, and the fabled handsome boxer of the Hollywood lights stands at his lowest ebb. As the sun set on Sunset Boulevard, the die had been cast and the cocktail of fame set upon the floor. Its contents: Heroin, Cocaine, .357 Magnum. The person who ordered it: Robert Downey Junior
RDJ was on the mat, yes, down, yes, but not out. As Ally McBeal cast him aside, the wounded thespian pugilist took stock of his dwindling options, and one day hoped to catch lightning upon the stars of his eyes.
Undertaking a vicious rehaul of his persona via a gruelling training technique called ‘drying out’, he was again ready to collide with celluloid for his return bout.
2003, The singing detective.
From the detective that did not sing (and his subsequent album, where he did sing) he crawled up the letters on the Hollywood sign by his teeth, and in 2008, he met his true destiny. His greatest ally and toughest opponent.
A rich man made of Iron.
‘Blame it on the Foreigner’ – The Dark Horse runs again (1914-1918, 1933-1945, 1997, 2001-Present)
The plucky old colt from the darkest of our mental stables has a track record of wins as unwelcome and familiar as the initial breeze that welcomes winter. A chill blows through. The dark horse runs again.
She remains a vast runner with limitless stamina and a killer instinct without peer. With a certain Teutonic jockey guiding the whip, ‘Blame it on the Foreigner’ ran roughshod over all opponents in the 1930’s-1940’s International race circuit. The world stood aghast.
With the jockey disqualified, ‘Blame it on the Foreigner’ ran first (or a close second) to a series of lesser race meets in the coming years (see: 1997, racing under the guide of whip P. Hanson, sporting the colours of ‘One Nation’). All knew that she was a ride that would never retire, but those around the racing circle hoped that no hoop would be stupid enough to race her to her highest potential.
‘Blame it on the Foreigner’ had one hoof in the Glue Factory, until 2001.
She was again brought out of retirement, in Republican Red, steered by the hyperactive, yet numb, hoop G. W. Bush. She was strictly ran in the middle east circuit, and like everywhere else she had ran, she won, and we tore up our tickets.
2016, threatens to see her return to US soil, a sight not seen since 1917-1918). Still wearing the same colours, but now piloted by D. Trump, she has started well in the domestic races she’s run thus far, and insider knowledge now claims that she has one eye on Mexico and one in the Middle East, and another at home.
Will know come November.