At this point, the panegyrics have been written by those who knew her best. As a mere fan, I always feel strange writing memorial pieces about "celebrities" who pass before their time. For starters, I'm usually late to the funeral, so to speak. I need time to gather my thoughts. And to put it blankly, I didn't know Daffney. I won't say that I loved her because that can sound off-putting, especially to someone who legitimately loved her. I certainly admired her work. She punched the clock as a pro-wrestler, and if you weren't privy to that scrap of information, good grief. Just leave.
I wasn't watching WCW when Daffney joined the roster, but retroactively, it's apparent that she was a bright spot hidden in Nitro and Thunder during a sepulchral era in sports entertainment (well, sepulchral for one promotion anyway). Apart from The Daughters of Darkness and GLOW's Heavy Metal Sisters, she sported the first "goth chick" gimmick in rasslin'. Of course, I don't know if you could even call it a gimmick. For all intents and purposes, Daffney was a true-to-life extension of Shannon Spruill.
I caught up with her in TNA. She kicked ass, in this writer's opinion, but her value was squandered and frivoled away. Injuries sustained under Dixie Carter severely retrenched her career. It was out-and-out bullshit. I can only echo the obvious, as Daffney's story is fairly easy to string together from testimonials and biographies online. Twitter alone has been inundated with love for The Scream Queen. SELF-SERVING NOTE: Daffney teamed (and briefly feuded) with MsChif, a similar goth/metal goddess type. I. Love. MsChif. That is all. I'm praying to the big man downstairs that she comes out of retirement. Alright, I'm done digressing.
Rest in peace, Daff.
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