Death Clutch (15 page)

Authors: Brock Lesnar

BOOK: Death Clutch

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I
t is Sunday, March 20, 2011, and my deadline to finish this book is tomorrow morning. I was going to end it with a chapter about my fight with Cain Velazquez. But after all of these months, I've still never even watched the tape. I don't even want to think about it. I'm not ready yet.

I don't know how to approach it. A lot of things have crossed my mind. Part of me wants to move on and forget about it. But the athlete in me knows that I have to face my mistakes and learn from them if I want to get my title back.

I knew deep down inside that fighting Cain as soon as I did after the Carwin fight could have been a huge benefit to my career. But, with every benefit, there is a consequence. My consequence was a loss.

I'm human.

Yeah, I know. I'm not supposed to be, but I am.

I had been through a lot, some would even say “enough” in the year before the Cain fight. I got sick. Then worse. Then ended up in the hospital for eleven days with no food or water, being fed intravenously. Lost forty-two pounds. Had my whole life “on hold.” Found out my wife was pregnant with another baby boy on the way. Got cleared. Did a minicamp. Tried to be there for my wife and Mya and Turk, but was all wrapped up in getting back into shape and getting ready for the Carwin fight. Did a full-fledged training camp, then fought Carwin.

After that, some downtime was overdue.

But I kept going.

Our son Duke is born. I have to tend to our farm, but something had to give. I am not a very good multitasker. I am a driven, focused individual. I had too much going on, and had been through too much for the entire year.

Why did I lose that night? Plain and simple. On that night, in that arena, Cain Velasquez was a better fighter than I was.

T
here's an old expression about falling off a horse. You get back on, and you ride that bad boy into town. I'm not saying I'm happy about losing the UFC Title, but I am saying it helped me focus again on how much I want to be champion.

In beating me for the title, Cain Velasquez tore his rotator cuff so badly he needed surgery and a year off to heal. Cain was scheduled to fight the number one contender, Junior Dos Santos, but that fight had to be postponed.

UFC knew both Dos Santos and I felt like the “Interim Title” was a fake championship, a placeholder until the real champ comes back. I made my feelings about that known when Shane Carwin was being called “The Interim Champion.”

Dana and Lorenzo came up with a great idea, and made me an offer I couldn't refuse. If I agreed to coach on the
Ultimate Fighter
reality show, I would be set to fight the other coach in the end. I accepted, because the other coach was Dos Santos, and the winner of our fight gets Velasquez.

So I did what I had to do. I moved to Las Vegas for six weeks, brought my family with me, and coached a team of hungry young fighters. That put me on the fast track to get my title back.

I want to be the UFC Heavyweight Champion of the World again. There are also a few other things I'd like to take care of before I disappear and become Farmer Brock, but I like taking things one step at a time. The UFC title is in my sights. I need to pull that trigger first.

As for those other goals?

Well, we'll have to discuss those another time.

Maybe in
DeathClutch 2
!

Acknowledgments

M
y thanks to everyone who made this book worth reading, and my life what it is. My wife, Rena, and children, Mya, Turk and Duke; my mom and dad, for always being there; my brothers and sister; John, Jeff, Dick, and Alberta Schiley, for making me a part of their family; Bismarck State College and my coaches, Robert Finneseth and Ed Kringstad, my teacher Mary Ann Durrick, and my BSC teammates; Jesse Sabot, Mike Eckert, and their families; J. Robinson and Marty Morgan, for believing in me and pushing me to be my best; all of my UofM teammates, for going through it all with me; Brad Rheingans, my “brother”; Vince McMahon, for giving me my shot; Danny Davis, Gerry Brisco, Jack Lanza, and Jim “J.R.” Ross; all of the boys I stiffed on the way in and out of WWEâkeep your receipts and get in line; John Laurinaitis, for getting me the hell out of Louisville; Dana White and Lorenzo Fertitta, for believing in me as an athlete; all of those who helped me along the way in my MMA career, Marty, Greg Nelson, Eric Paulson, Rodrigo “Comprido” Medieros, Luke Richesson, and all of the training partners who have pushed me and sacrificed for me; and my sponsors who have supported me.

I would also like to thank David Olsen, my longtime lawyer and manager, his colleague, Brian Stegeman, and their firm, Henson & Efron, P.A., for sticking with me in good times and in bad; Paul Heyman, for living some of the stories and writing this book with me; Scott Waxman, my literary agent; and Matt Harper, my editor, and the team at HarperCollins.

Special thanks to Medcenter One Hospital in Bismarck, North Dakota, the Mayo Clinic, and all of the extraordinary doctors and nurses who put up with me and made sure that I was alive to tell my story.

Thanks to you all, and to Webster, South Dakota, and all of the others who have played important parts in my life not mentioned here.

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