A Lion's Tale_ Around the World in Spandex - Chris Jericho [142]
Eddy and Chris were very strict with their diets. They were the first guys I knew who checked the labels on food to find out the nutritional information. I ate whatever I wanted within reason (and looked like it) and Dean was the same way. One day I decided to mimic Chris and see what the hell the big deal with the labels was. I studied intently and looked up to see Dean across the aisle doing the same thing. Our eyes met and we burst out laughing at how stupid the situation was. We bought the donuts and left.
Then we had the bright idea to stay up all night after every Nitro until our flight left the next morning. We started our plan by going to the seediest clubs we could find in whatever town we were in. But that “thrill” soon wore off, so we thought it would be funny instead to keep everyone else awake. Because so many of the wrestlers had their rooms paid for by the company (not us), everyone was based out of the same hotel. As a result, it wasn’t hard to con the hotel security guard into giving us the keys to the other guys’ rooms.
Dean and I would open our victim’s door and run into their darkened room wearing lucha masks and screaming our heads off. One night, we broke into the room of a bunch of Mexican minis, midget wrestlers from south of the border. We found all five of them sleeping on the same king-size bed in a K position.
It was kompletely hilarious.
My three amigos and I had all wrestled for the bigger companies in Mexico, Europe, and Japan, earning us the nickname the New Japan Four. The name didn’t quite fit for me, because even though I’d worked in Japan dozens of times, it had never been for New Japan. I knew that WCW had a working agreement with New Japan and that was one of the reasons I’d been so excited to sign with them in the first place, but I still hadn’t had my chance to go.
Just as I reached the end of my rope, New Japan called and saved my career.
CHAPTER 46
CHRIS BIGALOW, ORIENTAL GIGOLO
I had just finished vacuuming my apartment when I received a call from Brad Rheinghans (who I used to watch in the AWA), the American liaison for New Japan.
“New Japan needs you to send them your measurements. They want to bring you in to be Jushin Liger’s new rival and you’re going to have a costume like his.”
Brad told me that I was going to debut as the evil Super Liger in front of 65,000 people at the Tokyo Dome. Liger was one of THE faces of New Japan Pro Wrestling and being introduced in this manner was akin to debuting at WrestleMania as Don Cena, John’s evil twin.
So I bought a tape measure and gave my measurements. The company made me a replica of Liger’s famous bodysuit, but I didn’t get a chance to see it (never mind try it on) until I arrived in Tokyo the night before the show.
It was basically a skintight white wet suit, made of material thicker than spandex. When I tried it on, it was like wearing a body cast.
When I put on the trademark Liger horned mask, it was like putting on the Gimp’s gear. It had only a little hole for a mouth and the eyes were covered by a red mesh that totally restricted my sight. With my new Super Liger costume on, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, and I felt like I’d been dipped in candle wax.
I would’ve been okay at an S&M convention but how in the hell was I going to wrestle?
Drastic changes were going to be necessary so I went into MacGyver mode and began altering my costume. I took a pair of scissors and cut the chin out of the mask, allowing me to breathe. Then I tried to figure out a way to open up the eyeholes without messing up the red mesh, but it was futile. So I put the mask on and wore it to bed to try and get comfortable with it.
The next day I was taken to the gigantic Tokyo Dome, aka the Big Egg, an intimidating structure that put major perspective on the fact that it was my:
First time wearing a mask.
First time wrestling with New Japan.
First