A lot of jealousy here. Matarazzo was a man'a man and some guys just can't stand it when an alpha male raises rhe bar.
No, he was no such thing. He sold his soul for a sport that he couldn't crack the top ten with at the Olympia (except once, in 1993, shortly after his 1 and only win at the 1991 USAs) and destroyed his health in the process. Collapsing in an elevator from diuretics dehydration in 1996 and being put on Lipitor wasn't enough of a warning sign for Mike. He had to wake up coughing blood and choking on his own vomit in the middle of the night in 2004 and get rushed off to the hospital and put on the operating table. Let's not get into the time he got arrested at the airport for trying to assault two airport patrolmen when they told him to stop arguing with the ticket clerk at the departure gate for his Bahamian guestposing flight where he'd forgotten to bring his passport and went into a total roid rage about it. Never mind he blew off his fans while pretending to be a peoples' champ (who never won anything). Or that he talked shit about a lot of bodybuilders behind their backs then smiled to their faces at the Venice Gold's or the Firehouse.
You see, some of us knew Mike, and while he wasn't the worst guy by a long shot, he was a fucking dolt, and a moron, and a meathead who himself admitted if he had another chance at life, he'd go back to driving a truck in Boston and never come close to a needle or a contest stage because life is a lot more than just shooting yourself full of synthetic tissue-building agents until you have the hormonal profile of an African water buffalo. In dying early, he left behind a wife and a kid that never even got a chance to know him that well. The dufus even asked his doctor, shortly after his first surgery (and before his heart attack in 2007 for overdoing it at the gym again) whether he could just take his chances and get back on stage one more time, since he missed bodybuilding so much. His doctor told him he may as well go outside and just dive in front of a moving 18 wheeler.
He had good calves and made nice crab shots. Other than that, he was nothing special, and now he's not even a memory in a sport that knew him for 20 years. Move on. Find someone else to worship because this keg is tapped.