Rumble Road (15 page)

Brining Home the Bacon

Christian

I know when I was coming up, Owen Hart helped me out and took me under his wing. I lived in Canada at the time and he lived in Calgary, so a lot of times he would have to connect in Toronto, so we would end up on the same flights from Toronto and we’d sit next to each other and talk a lot. He would teach me a lot about the road and little tricks on how to make life easier when we travel. It meant a lot to me when I first got with the company for a guy like Owen to sit down and help me out like he did.

It’s crazy though, because when I was first starting out on the Independents, you never knew what to expect. You might have a two-hour drive and end up wrestling in front of fifty people. If you’re lucky, you’re wrestling in front of six hundred people. At the same time, you’re not making any money, so you’re sharing a hotel room with five or six other guys. You’re squished into somebody’s car and you’re just trying to save enough money to eat. That’s what changes when you get to WWE. Now you’re flying most places and you can afford a nice rental car, a nice hotel, and a nice meal.

I wrestled once inside a barn in Tennessee in front of like fifteen people. The guy who ran the show, it was inside his dad’s barn, and I remember during the middle of the show, his dad came home with groceries and was walking through the crowd with groceries under his arms, shoving through people to get to his house that was attached to the barn. He was trying to put his groceries away while the match was going on. It was pretty funny.

Keep Your Mask On

Rey Mysterio

My first road trips were from San Diego to L.A. at the age of fourteen. Back then, I had to wear my mask because we would wrestle in bars and they would sneak me in through the back because I was underage. They would tell me, “Rey, put your mask on and don’t take it off. Keep your mask on at all times, and if someone asks, tell them you’re just a short wrestler or a midget.” Whatever I did, I couldn’t take my mask off. Back then it was a trip, because here I was sneaking into bars and I was wrestling guys twice my age.

And the people who were at these bars, they showed very little interest in the matches anyway. In my case, I had to win these people over with my wrestling style. It’s not like we were wrestling in these bars with any big names. So back then, I was doing so much high-flying because not a whole lot of people who were there knew much about wrestling, but they would go crazy over any little dive or special headscissor or Frankensteiner. They would go crazy for those moves, and it was cool for me to break in that way. All my first road trips were either to wrestle at bars or to wrestle outside churches in Mexico, and you have to think, back then all I wanted was the opportunity to step in the ring. I didn’t care if it was five people or five hundred people. There were times I wrestled in front of twelve or fifteen people, but I performed like I was in front of fifty thousand people. Every time I step into the ring, it’s about putting on the best show possible for the fans. It’s been quite a road.

Two Different Worlds

MVP

It’s kind of disappointing when you’re wrestling in front of twenty or thirty people, but still, you lace ’em up because what you have to realize is, even in front of that many people, you’re still learning your craft. So then, when you wrestled in front of two hundred people, you were like, “Wow, we have a good house tonight.” Oftentimes I actually stop and reflect, thinking about when I first started and wrestled in a hall in front of thirty people. Then I think about being in Ford Field at
Wrestle-Mania
in front of eighty thousand people, with millions more at home tuning in. Talk about one extreme to the other. But whether there’s twenty people or twenty thousand people, it all comes down to the fact that, hey, these people all bought a ticket and they’re here to be entertained. And it’s my job to entertain them. Now, the adrenaline rush will certainly get you more pumped up in front of a larger crowd, but honestly, there’s no difference in my performance between two thousand and twenty thousand . . . I do what I do. Sometimes it hurts less in front of twenty thousand people just because you’re so amped up, but the fans make it all worthwhile: the bumps, the bruises, the travel. At the end of my match, win, lose, or draw, when the crowd chants “M-V-P, ” there isn’t anything better than that.

The WWE universe is very demanding. They know garbage from the goods, they know what they’re watching. The fans, they decide: We like him, they cheer me, and to me, that’s one of the coolest things that could happen. Fans walk up to me all the time in the hotel and they tell me, “You’re a future World Champion.” I just tell them, “I hope so.”

“The wrestling industry is one big cycle,” Randy Orton explains, dissecting what it means to live life on the road and make the sacrifices necessary to hit it big in WWE. “When you start out, when you’re a new guy, if you have potential and one of the older guys in the locker room sees that, a lot of times they’ll guide you and take you under their wing,” he says, helping sum up one of the most overlooked but vitally important aspects of the time shared together on the road.
You see, riding in rental cars around the world isn’t just about finding your way to the arena and to the top of the business (or about bad hotels, or even worse food), it’s about
helping out your fellow Superstars along the way. It’s about those four-hour drives breaking down matches and story lines as you talk about your relationships and family back at home with your adopted family on the road.

It’s about doing whatever is in your power to live your dream, while everyone in your car is living theirs right alongside of you.

Nobody does a better job talking about this lifestyle and what it means than third-generation Superstar Randy Orton.

So I leave you with his words. Maybe the most important in the book if you’re looking for that one thing that makes the wrestling industry continue to tick (and I’m not talking about anything Randy bought in Mexico).

Leaving a Legacy

Randy Orton

When I was coming up along with John Cena and Brock Lesnar, we all had our mentors. I was lucky because Triple H singled me out. I’ll never forget, one day he saw me practicing in the ring. I was locked in a figure-four, and the cameras weren’t on, but it was the way I was selling the move that he really liked. From what he saw, I was selling the figure-four the way it should be done. So after I got out of the ring, he pulled me aside and told me he’d been watching me and that he wanted to start this group and he’d get back to me on it. Eventually that group became Evolution. So I got to ride with Evolution and ride with Ric Flair and ride with Triple H, and I learned so much from these guys. At first Batista wasn’t in, and it was just me, Ric, and Hunter, and we had so much fun in New York City, riding around in limos and flying around in helicopters in order to shoot the video package for our entrance. And I really got the chance to bond with these guys, and they told me about things inside the ring, outside the ring, how to act, how to be a locker room leader. Eventually, one day I knew that it would be my turn to take somebody under my wing. That’s the way it goes. Every so often a new wave of guys comes in, and that time is now. I used to be the young guy, but now I see these younger guys coming in who are four to eight years younger than I am already.

When I look at guys like Cody and Ted and Kofi Kingston—who is my opponent—I’m in a position to help make these guys. Then eventually, they’ll be in that position as well. It’s a learning process. Being successful in this business takes time. Unless you’re a golden boy or a Brock Lesnar or someone who can just be thrown right into the mix right away, you have to work at it. It’s a building process. And it’s not something that just takes a couple of years. It took me a good five to six years before people started believing in me, and there are so many aspects to that: coming up with a finishing move, having a move set that people recognize, having a character that you believe in and are confident in, so that when you walk through that curtain and walk onto that stage, those fans watching you know by the look in your eyes that you mean business. They know that they can believe in this character. That’s really what you need to do . . . find a character you can have confidence in. When a new guy walks to the ring, you can sense that nervous energy. He doesn’t know what to do, so he’s looking around, and you can tell he’s not confident in himself. And when a wrestler isn’t confident in himself, it’s hard for him to get over because the fans can sense that. Right away they’ll crap on that because it’s no good. They’re not paying for that. They’re paying to have reality suspended. They want to believe in something. They want us to put on a show that they can get wrapped up into and lost in. They want to believe.

That’s where a lot of these critics come in and call wrestling fake. To me, that’s the most disrespectful thing anyone can say. I’ve seen Hunter tear both quads, his groin, and get his throat crushed. I’ve had two shoulder surgeries, a broken foot, a nasty dislocation, broken digits, jaw problems, a broken collarbone, concussions . . . and that’s average. Guys have had neck surgeries and broken arms, lots of knee problems and back issues. So to call this fake, that’s like a slap in the face. We love what we do. It’s not like your normal nine-to-five in some office where you dream of working somewhere else. We get to travel and see the world. And sure, it’s tough sometimes, but we love what we do. And the guys who love what they do and who have the hearts for it, they’re the ones who are able to channel those passions. A lot of times lately, there are guys coming up who are second and third generation. These are guys who were born into the business, and they have that respect. There are all kinds of ex–football players and ex-Olympians in training camp now, but when they come up, we call them the Tin Men because they don’t have hearts. That’s a nasty little moniker that they’ve been given, but it’s true. You have to know this world. And you have to want to protect it and know what’s best for it. Guys with big heads and egos come in, and they don’t know any better, but their career is over just like that, and they never understand. But you have to do what’s right to make each other look good. You have to do what’s best for the business.

Ted and Cody, Kofi Kingston, Harry Smith, Tyson Kidd, and Nattie Neidhart . . . people like that who come up, they have the heart. Mike Rotunda’s two boys who are training, Taylor and Windham, they have the heart. They are training in FCW right now, but they are about to become part of that cycle where the young and hungry come up with all that potential and all that talent, and it’s up to guys like me, guys like Hunter and John Cena and guys who have been a part of this cycle, to step in and help these young guys out. And eventually there’s another wave and another wave. That’s just how sports entertainment thrives. And a lot of those lessons that need to be taught, they’re not learned inside the ring. They’re learned on the road.