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Original Publication Date: March 1, 2007 |
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Today
marks the first issue of the second year for this column. Many
thanks go to you, the wonderful readers, for making the first year
an unqualified success. During the unfolding of this second year,
you are encouraged to submit questions and comments via e-mail. My
assistant and I will answer as many as we can, and the more
interesting questions will be answered in future editions of “Over
the Top Rope.”
Although I was introduced to wrestling when I was fourteen years
old, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to actually become a professional
wrestler until two years later. I remember the moment I made the
decision and, therefore, the commitment. I had just turned
sixteen. I absolutely knew that I would turn pro before my
twenty-first birthday. The vast majority of my waking hours were
spent planning, plotting, and preparing for that eventuality to come
to fruition. Many of my non-waking hours were filled with dreams of
my upcoming life in the wonderful world of professional wrestling.
There was never even a trace of a doubt in my mind that I
would succeed. Not only was failure never an option – failure was
never even a thought.
Because I had played my wrestling career over so many times in my
head before it became a reality, I took the reality in stride. I
was recently asked a question that I had been asked dozens of times
before. “Who trained you?” was the familiar question. “I trained
myself,” was the response, which resulted in now-to-be-expected
laughter. Although my sense of humor is somewhat extreme, my answer
was not given to provoke laughter; it was given because it was
true. I studied the moves of the best of the best in the wrestling
business. I dissected those moves, studied them from every
conceivable angle, and put them back together again. When I tried
the moves for the first time in the ring, they generally went quite
well and looked good. I expected them to look good. I had
practiced them in my head hundreds of times. When I received
compliments on many of my first-ever moves, I simply said, “Thank
you.” Nobody ever knew that I had just executed a particular move
for the first time.
I
also learned the business of wrestling by making a study of it.
Gaps in my understanding were usually filled in by other wrestlers,
but the vast majority of my understanding of wrestling, the business
of wrestling, the psychology of wrestling, and crowd psychology
itself was learned before I ever stepped into the ring. In fact,
the first time I actually stepped into a professional wrestling ring
was when I wrestled my first professional bout. Because I had
wrestled so many times in my mind, I wasn’t surprised that my first
professional wrestling match took place when I was twenty years of
age. I wasn’t surprised that I wrestled in the main event of the
evening. I wasn’t even surprised that I was victorious in my
first-ever match. I thought, “Well, that was cool. You won your
first match and it was a main event. Now, let’s move on and
concentrate on tomorrow night’s match.”
I seldom reflected on my past matches. When I thought a match
could have been better, I replayed
the match in my head a few dozen times. But, generally, once a
match was over, I moved on. I took my entire career in stride. At
the time, I didn’t place much importance on any one given match or
on any particular series of matches. I wrestled hundreds and
hundreds of people -- from semi-known “names” to major
internationally known and adored World Champions. I wrestled
literally thousands of individual matches in my career. I wrestled
so many people that I didn’t keep track of their names. Because I
had programmed myself for success, I expected it. Because I
expected it, I took my career somewhat nonchalantly.
After I had been in the profession for a few years, a friend asked
me who I had wrestled the night before. I remember shrugging my
shoulders and saying, “I don’t know. ‘Last night’ was more than ten
minutes ago. I don’t remember.” Although I added the “ten minutes
ago” remark to instill a little humor in my answer, I really didn’t
know. I probably wasn’t paying attention when the announcer gave my
opponent’s name, and, quite honestly, I generally didn’t care.
Besides, most of my opponents tended to blur and run together after
a while.
I
loved my work, but I didn’t realize how incredibly amazing the
details of my wrestling
career would become. Last year, I was asked if I had ever wrestled
Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka. “I don’t think so,” I answered. “I
wrestled hundreds of guys. With a lot of them, I never knew or
don’t remember their names. But I don’t remember ever wrestling
Snuka.” I mentioned this to a wrestling buddy who said, “Sure you
did, Rock. I remember watching you and him in the ring together on
more than one occasion. You had some really good matches with that
man.” I still didn’t remember. I did a little research and
discovered that I had, indeed, wrestled the amazing Jimmy “Superfly”
Snuka. I was certainly happy that my career was going well
as it was unfolding, but I
wasn’t totally impressed with my success until
over a dozen years
later.
Now, as I look back on those eight-and-a-half-plus years as a
full-time professional wrestler, I am sincerely impressed! I
wrestled, for example, the legendary Lou Thesz, and I wrestled him a
number of times. How many people alive can say that they ever
climbed into the ring with “The Legend” himself? Not that many!
How many people can say that they wrestled Andre the Giant, Pat
Patterson, Jerry Lawler, Haystacks Calhoun, Ric Flair, Harley Race,
Vern Gagne, Red Bastien, Jack Brisco, Dory and Terry Funk, Ted
DiBiase, John Tolos, The Iron Sheik, "Rowdy" Roddy Piper, "Judo"
Gene Lebell, Jake "The Snake" Roberts, Gorgeous George Jr., Greg
Valentine, Dusty Rhodes, Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka, Ray Stevens, Pedro
Morales, Superstar Billy Graham, Mondo and Chavo Guerrero and so
many more?
Writing this column has allowed me to research my own career. As I
continue to discover more details, I become more impressed and
proud. Where was Tony Robbins when I needed him? He said, “If
life is worth living, it is worth recording.” And, so, I leave you
with this suggestion: From this day forth, document your life.
Years down the road, you may look back and be amazed! Until next
week, keep those e-mails coming.
