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Authors: Brock Lesnar

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BOOK: Death Clutch
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WINNING THE TITLE . . . FROM THE ROCK

I
only wrestled Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson three times. The first time was in Australia, right before we worked the
SummerSlam
main event at the Nassau Coliseum in Long Island, New York, for the Undisputed WWE Championship. I had won the
King of the Ring
and was headed for my first pay-per-view main event. There's a lot of pressure on someone when they have to main-event with the top star of the day. You have to be careful not to hurt the Golden Goose, but you also have to make your match look good.

To get me ready for the Rock, we did a match on television against Hulk Hogan. This was a big deal, because Hogan didn't wrestle every week on TV. WWE was portraying him as the legend of all legends, and to make me the focal point of the promotion, we were going to do a major incident on television where I took Hulk Hogan OUT. I was honored to get into the ring with Hogan, but at the same time, I looked at things a little differently from everyone else. Yes, Hogan was the biggest star of the eighties and nineties. He drew huge gates and sold millions of pay-per-views. This guy had made more money than any other wrestler of his era, but here he was, squeezing out another run at age fiftysomething . . . just like Ric Flair.

So we did this deal with Hulk Hogan where I took Hogan out violently on the WWE
Smackdown!
TV show. I knew the script, because Paul was the lead writer of the show, and we communicated all the time. Vince kept telling me we needed to make this as memorable a night as possible for the fans, because this was a big moment in my career. I was going to slay the immortal Hulk Hogan, bust him open, and leave him for dead. Other wrestlers had “jumped” Hogan from behind before, or “attacked” him to build interest in an upcoming match, but I was going to beat the crap out of him face-to-face. Vince didn't just want me to “get over,” he wanted me over the top. There was a lot riding on that
SummerSlam
pay-per-view, and WWE was counting on a big buy rate to carry the promotion into the fall.

The Rock was a proven commodity, but putting a rookie in the main event of your second biggest show of the year was a risk. Vince liked to take chances in life, but he called them “calculated risks.” The idea was to really pump up the interest in my match with The Rock by having me hit Hulk Hogan with the F-5, crack him over the head with a chair, bust his head open, and wipe his blood across my chest like Brock The Conqueror. It was pretty dramatic stuff. Vince figured if that didn't position me as a top star with the WWE audience, and give me the boost and credibility needed to draw some serious money with the Rock at
SummerSlam
, nothing would.

Behind the scenes, Hogan was being written out of the future scripts, and he wasn't going to appear at the Australia show. With no Hogan to work the main event Down Under, it gave me and Dwayne a chance to work with each other for the first time, and to feel each other out before we got in the ring with everyone watching at
SummerSlam
. We were in Melbourne doing a Triple Threat Match (three wrestlers in the ring at the same time), with the Rock defending his Undisputed WWE Heavyweight Championship against both me and HHH.

When Dwayne and I got in the ring together, we could both tell that we had instant chemistry. I know we stole the show. Everyone could immediately tell we were going to be big box office against each other. It was a week and a half before
SummerSlam
, and we were ready.

WWE needed a new champion, because Dwayne was taking time off after the show to do a movie, so the key here was to go all the way with this kid, Brock Lesnar, because I had to carry the load for the company while Dwayne was off shooting films. Not everyone has what it takes to sell tickets on a nightly basis at major arenas, and sell millions of dollars' worth of pay-per-views several times a year. That's what a champion does. Vince thought I had what it took to pull that off.

Dwayne, of course, is a very smart guy. He was going to have his character, the Rock, do a clean job for me because he wanted to grease the wheels for himself to come back when the time was right. Dwayne knew putting me over was right for business, and he was willing to take a loss for the team, on pay-per-view, in front of all of his fans. He saw the talent I had, and he knew it would be best for the company if there were no questions in the fans' minds that I beat him “fair and square.” That way, after I had my ride at the top, he could beat me in a revenge match when he came back and he would look even better. It would be huge. WWE would make a lot of money. I'd make a lot of money. Dwayne would make a lot of money. That's the pro wrestling business at its best!

Dwayne also knew that it wasn't only right for business to put me over clean, but that Vince had it in his own head that the Rock should lose clean to Brock Lesnar. If Dwayne wanted the door open for a return, he had to keep Vince happy, and have him think that “Dwayne always gave back to the company, looked after what was right for business.” Vince has ended more than one career when someone crossed him and put their own interests above the company's. Dwayne was too smart for that, and he did everything the right way . . . the smart way.

I don't know how many other guys Dwayne would have been happy to lose to clean, but he did it for me because he knew I could carry the torch for the company until he got it back. It wasn't a gift. It was business.

On August 25, 2002, at age twenty-five, I became the youngest WWE Champion in history when I “defeated” the Rock for the title at
SummerSlam
.

That night changed my life forever. I was now in a position to regularly score big paydays for a night's work, and more. I was now able to buy a lot of things. I'll always appreciate what Dwayne did for me and my family. If he hadn't made me look good, things might have been a lot different.

Beating the Rock at
SummerSlam
2002
made me a true superstar in the eyes of the fans. I didn't have just any title, I had the ultimate prize in sports entertainment, the Undisputed WWE Heavyweight Championship of the World. I wasn't just another guy in the locker room, or a curtain-jerker, or a midcard guy, or a guy hoping and praying to catch a break. I was the main event. People paid to see me. And that's exactly what I wanted, because that's where the serious money kicks in.

In my first-ever pay-per-view in some city I can't remember, I beat Jeff Hardy in an undercard match and got what I thought at the time was a decent check. Now I was headlining pay-per-views, and making life-changing money every time. Not a bad night's work. And it all literally happened overnight. Ten minutes in the ring with Jeff Hardy was really cool. But twenty minutes in the ring with Dwayne, and I was set for life.

That's why the match with Dwayne was such a big moment in my life. It wasn't about who was better, who would really win. Come on, that's ridiculous. It was about the fact I wanted to buy my mom and dad a house. I wanted to put money away for my daughter's education. I wanted to be able to afford nice things in life for me and my family. I was the undisputed WWE Champion, on the fast track to fame and fortune. I was on top of the world.

And I was already looking over my shoulder, because I knew that the clock was ticking and my days were numbered.

THE UNDERTAKER

A
s soon as I became Undisputed WWE Champion, the decision was made to let both
Raw
and
SmackDown!
have their own champions. So WWE branded two weekly shows that aired on different nights, and each brand carried its own roster of wrestlers.

My very first television appearance as the WWE Champion was on a
Monday Night Raw
that was broadcast live from Madison Square Garden. I know all these famous arenas mean something to a lot of people, and there is a lot of history in the Garden, but none of that means shit to me. Today, I like fighting in Las Vegas, because I have a routine there that I'm used to. Minnesota is great because I can just drive home that night. Anywhere else is just another place to me—just another in a long line of arenas in cities I don't get to see, with the same locker rooms where I have to shake everyone's hand, and then say good night and safe travels before meeting up with all of them in a few hours in a new city I won't get to see.

At the end of that first night on TV as champion, Paul and I jumped ship and went over to the
SmackDown!
roster—all part of the script, of course, as everything is in professional wrestling—and
Raw
was left without a champion. With Paul writing
SmackDown!
, I saw how this was going to play out. When I left
Raw
, it opened the door for HHH (who is now Vince's son-in-law) to be a champion. But that never bothered me. I really didn't care, because as long as I could just keep main-eventing the pay-per-views, things would be fine. HHH would be the World Champion on
Raw
. Good for him. I would be the WWE Champion on
SmackDown!
When it came time for the pay-per-views, someone had to be the top dog. Sometimes, that depended on the person you were defending the title against.

Advantage: Lesnar.

Why? Because my first feud as champion was against one of Vince's favorites, the Undertaker.

I have to say, there were some guys I liked wrestling with, or I guess I should say “performing” with. In the business, we just say “working,” and I enjoyed working with the Big Show. I also liked working with Kurt Angle, Hulk Hogan, and Dwayne Johnson. I liked working with anyone who was what they called “over,” which meant the person meant something to the audience. I liked working with anyone who was going to have some box-office appeal, because I was in the business to make money. The fame and the glory goes away. The money can help you and your family afford a better life.

Of all of the guys I worked with, I probably liked working with the Undertaker more than anyone else. Despite our personal differences, working with him was just so easy. He had that “Dead Man” gimmick, and he knew how to play it. Taker is a bright guy, too, and he knew I could make him look great. He also knew it was going to look believable when I beat him down.

Another reason I liked working with Taker is that it was so much easier for me to bump around the ring for his moves. He was a lot bigger than I was, and the fans not only loved his character, but they believed he was a legitimate badass. Bumping for a guy bigger than me is always going to be easier than bumping around all night long for the Hardy Boyz. It's just a different-style match. With the Hardys, you have to build and build and build until it's time to take that bump. With Taker, he's so big, you can just bump around right away.

There was also that mystique the Undertaker had. He was going to be the first person to really hand Brock Lesnar an ass kicking, so he was going to make it look good. I had no problem with that. As long as people were going to pay to see us go at it, I was happy.

We had our first pay-per-view match in Los Angeles, at the show called
Unforgiven
. Vince wanted us to do this finish where Taker ends up throwing me through a big set of lights at the top of the stage. I didn't like it, but I knew we were setting up the rematch, which would be a Hell-in-a-Cell match. That meant my first two pay-per-views as champion would be in the main-event position, which meant I was getting top pay.

That Hell-in-a-Cell match against The Undertaker was my favorite match in WWE. That night, everything just clicked the right way. Taker was on his game, and I was ready to go. People were convinced The Undertaker was either going to beat Brock Lesnar, or get his own ass beat pretty good. This wouldn't be just another monthly pay-per-view main event. This was going to be something special.

And it was.

NEXT IN LINE? THE BIG SHOW!

M
y next opponent after Undertaker was originally supposed to be Hulk Hogan. He was going to come back, looking for revenge after I hammered him on TV. Vince wanted to do a story line where Hogan was looking to settle the score, and the Lesnar vs. Hogan match would air live from Madison Square Garden as the main event of
Survivor Series 2002
. I would be headlining yet another pay-per-view. Vince wanted Hogan to look really good, but fall short of beating me for the title. I guess the ol' Hulkster didn't like that idea too much, and next thing I know, we were going with “Plan B” . . . the Big Show!

I had met Show when I was still in Louisville, and we didn't exactly hit it off right away. He pissed Vince or someone off because he was not in shape, and they sent him down to the developmental squad as a punishment. He was a giant of a man, seven feet tall and five-hundred-plus pounds, but Vince wanted his wrestlers to “look good.” No one pays to see a couple of fat guys roll around the mat.

So I first met Show when I was in Louisville to learn the business, and I was taking everything seriously. I wanted to get called up to the main roster and the bigger paydays as soon as I could. When Show got demoted to Louisville, he looked at the guys training there like everyone was a maggot or something. He was all grumpy right from the get-go because he had to lose some weight, and everyone in camp was afraid of him. Everyone but me.

I wasn't afraid of Show, even if he did have almost a foot and two-hundred-some pounds on me, and I let him know it one day. We were in practice, and we got into the ring. He thought I was just another dumb jock greenhorn who was going to be intimidated by him, but I dropped him to the mat with a double leg takedown, and he was crying uncle. I kept the pressure on him because I didn't like the way he thought he was so much better than all the guys down there. I earned his respect that day, and I had no problem doing it either.

Another day, he was bullying everyone around, and I decided to bully him back. He got mad at me and told me, “I'll be back up in the main events, making millions, and you'll still be down here in Louisville setting up the ring.”

When I got to the big time, I decided to remind Show of our little incidents in Louisville. As soon as I had to work with Show, I waited until the time was right and I said, “Remember down in Louisville, when you said—”

He cut me right off there and said, “I know where you are going with this, and fuck you!”

I still tortured the big bastard . . . and while I was doing it, I taunted him a little more. “Hey, didn't I take you down in front of everyone, too?” I laughed. But I like Show, because he turned out to be one of the best people you could ever be around.

Hell, he cried when I told everyone I was going to leave WWE. He's just a super nice, sentimental guy, and he's trapped in that massive body. That can't be easy. I know when I was three hundred pounds of muscle, it was hard to carry all that weight around. Imagine adding two hundred pounds of not-so-lean mass on top of that, and nine or ten more inches in height?

I loved working with Show because, just like with Undertaker, I'm in there with someone even I would call a monster. A lot of people consider me to be a monster, but Big Show really is one, so I didn't mind bumping my ass off for him. The difference in working with Taker and working with Show, besides that mystique Undertaker had, is that Show legitimately weighed five hundred pounds. That wasn't just a made up gimmick. He weighed five hundred pounds! Picking him up was a bitch. It hurt.

As big as he was, and as much as it hurt to pick his big ass up off the canvas and toss him, I had to do it, and I had to shine when I did, because WWE was planning to have Show beat me for the title. The story would have Paul “double-cross me,” and help Big Show win the championship from the unbeaten Brock Lesnar. So, to set it up, I had to throw this five-hundred-pounder around every night, and that took a toll on my body fast.

The match at
Survivor Series
was very simple. I F-5'd Show, but Paul would then reveal that he “sold out Brock Lesnar” by breaking up the referee's count. About a minute later, I would get screwed out of the title. I was the biggest “heel,” or “bad guy,” in WWE, and I had just been robbed. The fans knew my character was going to go after Show and Paul for “revenge,” which made me a new “babyface,” or hero. I can't say my character became a “good guy,” I was just going to beat up the guys people were willing to pay to see me pound on.

One night in South Africa, Show and I were working in the main event. We had been working with each other for months, and had come up with a pretty easy match we could do every night and make the people happy they had paid their money to see us. He'd go out to the ring with Paul, and Paul would cut a promo, getting the crowd all riled up, which wrestling people called “getting up the heat.” Then I would come in, and we'd start the match hot, with me dumping the big bastard on his head a bunch of times. Show would get his heat, miss something, I'd smash him, F-5 him, and then F-5 Paul after the match. The fans loved it. I loved it, because we knew the routine, and it worked. No problems, right?

There we were in some city in South Africa. Think about it. South Africa. Keep it simple. Same routine. It was safe, it worked, and I was hurting enough just throwing this five-hundred-pound monster around every night. I was tired . . . I was injured . . . and I didn't want any surprises.

Right before our match, Show came over to where I was dressing, smoking a cigarette. That alone is funny, because a cigarette in that huge hand looks like a cutoff toothpick. I hate cigarettes, and he had to know that. After I made him put the damn thing out, he said, “Let's change the match around tonight.”

We're as far away from home as we can be. We might as well be on the planet Mars. We knew the match. It was easy. Why change it? Show got all upset with me, and he kept saying over and over again, “I'm a veteran, I'm the heel, I get to call the match!”

I couldn't believe he was serious. OK, we were all dealing with the stress from traveling halfway around the world. Bad news for Show, though. I wasn't in the mood for his shit that night.

“Whatever you wanna do is fine with me,” I told the big grump, “just call it out in the ring.”

So here's this seven-foot-tall, five-hundred-pound giant, and he's mumbling to himself as he walks away from me. It's so funny when I think about it now, because Show is the most likeable guy you'll ever meet, but he had me ready to kick his ass over in, of all places, South Africa!

Show was all huffy and puffy going out the ring, determined to call the match the way he wanted it to go, but as soon as I hit the ring, I snatched him and started suplexing him all over the place. Show backed me into a corner, and was going for a big chop across my chest, but I ducked under and waist-locked him. Once my hands were clasped, he had a pretty good idea about what was coming next. I was going to pivot my hips and throw him anywhere I wanted him to go. Show started screaming at me, “No no no no no no no no no,” but I didn't listen. I threw him across the ring, and I can still hear the thud he made when he landed!

Before he could get up, I ran across the ring, grabbed him, and locked my hands around him again. He started panicking: “Brock, what the hell are you doing? Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait!” So I flung him around a few more times. He learned his lesson.

After that, we got along great. I flew around for Show when it came time for the part of the match they call “the heat,” which is when the heel is getting the crowd angry by beating up the babyface, and building the anticipation for the babyface to get back up and kick the heel's ass. Show got on my nerves a little bit sometimes, but I could never hate him. I'm sure I got on his nerves, too, especially when I brought along a midget to dinner one night. By the way, Big Show fears midgets. I don't know why. It's a phobia. So just to “get” him, I brought one along . . . who kept sneaking bites out of Big Show's hamburger!

BOOK: Death Clutch
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