A Lion's Tale_ Around the World in Spandex - Chris Jericho [47]
He-Man.
I’ll write it again...HE-MAN.
And not only did he want to call me He-Man, he wanted me to dress like the fucking guy as well. I’m talking the whole deal...furry boots, short tights with an H on the crotch, broadsword. Just what was I supposed to do with a broadsword? Behead the referee after a controversial call? He-Man made Cowboy Chris Jericho look like Stone Cold Steve Austin in comparison. I didn’t want to complain too loudly, as I still wanted the job, but as much as I tried to come to grips with the concept, I knew I could never make He-Man work.
I had the costume maker translate my words as I reasoned with the boss.
“If you think about it, Lion Heart is perfect. You brought me in to be Tigre Canadiense’s partner and if you use my name, we can be Lion and Tiger, the Canadian Wildcats!”
My pitch completed, I flashed Elizondo a Brad Pitt smile (although in retrospect I should’ve flashed him my ball bag). He liked the Gatos Salvaje (Wildcats) idea but didn’t feel that the fans would understand what a Lion Heart was. He toyed with the idea of calling me León d’Oro (Golden Lion) but after a few minutes decided he still liked He-Man best.
Elizondo was being such a name stickler because he had big plans for me in his company—he wanted to make me a star. He’d already started building up my debut by placing full-page ads of me in my crotch holder in the local papers, offering free tickets to the first fan who could correctly answer three questions about me:
1. What was my real name?
2. Where was I from?
3. When was my debut match?
It was straight out of Tiger Beat and he wanted me to be a teen heartthrob like I was the Canadian member of Menudo.
He had also booked me on the local TV show Lucha Esta Noche! (Wrestling Tonight) to introduce me to the fans of Monterrey. So far, I was feeling pretty especial. After two days, I was already the subject of a contest in the paper AND the special guest on Lucha Esta frickin’ Noche! Finally after years of hardship, my ship was coming in.
But the damn ship sank seconds later when it was brought to my attention that my name was going to be decided by the viewers of the show. Elizondo’s idea was to have the fans watching Lucha Tonight vote on what my name should be. I figured that he would use León d’Oro no matter what the actual vote tally was, but Elizondo assured me that the voting process would be totally legit. The viewers would make their choice from three available names...He-Man, León d’Oro, or Chris Power. Chris Power? Granted He-Man was horrible, but it was better than that shit sandwich of a name.
The show began with the two masked hosts and me sitting around a desk looking serious. Sure luchadores are the superheroes of Mexican culture who hide their identities behind a mask, but why might I ask were the HOSTS hiding their faces? Did they have to conceal their identities from the evil TV hosts who were out to destroy them?
Even though I was a sexy beast, the episode of Lucha Esta Noche! was probably the worst show in Mexican television history. This was the result of an interviewer who spoke no English having an in-depth conversation with a guest who spoke no Spanish.
I fumbled through the disaster of a show, knowing that I had zero control over the upcoming decision that would forever change the course of my career.
Finally, a mariachi band began to play and the mysterious host hyped the big moment. The time had come! He was handed an envelope as if I was about to win a shitty Emmy. The winner of the Worst Name in Wrestling is...
After some babble about nombres and votas, the hostador finally opened the envelope. My heart pounded and a chorus line of Skeletors danced around inside my head like satanic Rockettes as the host revealed my new name of...
León d’Oro!!!
I morphed into Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally as I jumped up and down screaming, “Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes!”
The show ended with confetti falling and the mariachis throwing the fuck down. After the hosts shook my hand and walked off