Death Clutch - Brock Lesnar [34]
We went into his office, and I told Vince I was done, “going home.” I had no desire to wrestle Bob Holly on TV, didn’t want to wrestle that night period, and just wanted to leave. Vince said, “Well, Brock, what about WrestleMania? You can’t leave on bad terms that way!”
I’ll never forget his next line. “You can’t do this to me.”
All I could think of was, “DO THIS TO YOU?” I didn’t know what Vince thought I was doing to him, but whatever was going on was something I no longer wanted any part of!
I agreed to stay on through WrestleMania, but only because I wanted that payday from my match with Goldberg. I trimmed down my match on TV with Bob Holly to a few minutes, wrestled that night, got showered and dressed, and jumped back on my plane.
Rena rode home on my plane with me, and I felt relieved. I was going to leave the company. Stupid me, I let Vince talk me into dragging it out all the way to WrestleMania, but if I didn’t agree to that, they probably wouldn’t have paid me a lot of the money they owed me already. So financially, it was smart to agree to stay through Mania.
I know Vince was pissed off. In his universe, I was ungrateful. I had turned around and spit in his face. But it’s not like he shouldn’t have seen it coming. How many times did I tell him I needed time off? How many times did I tell him I wasn’t happy with the life, or what it was doing to me? Vince always had his stock reply: “Brock, you’re so much tougher than that.”
But it wasn’t about being tough. It was about having a life. A year or two bouncing around town to town, bar to bar, girl to girl, Vicodin to Vicodin, vodka bottle to vodka bottle, is not a life.
I loved being in the ring and performing. Bringing people to their feet. Getting people to hate my character. Entertaining the fans. I had a great time doing all of that, especially when I got to work with people I liked. But I wanted to have a family, too, and I knew there was no way to do that with the schedule I worked. I don’t hate professional wrestling, and I certainly don’t hate the people in it. Life on the road is just not for me. It’s not the life I choose to live.
When the time came, I made my announcement and told everyone I was leaving the WWE. From that day forward I became the outcast. None of the guys wanted to be seen with me, because I was the bad apple. I was turning my back on the wrestling business—their business, their life. I was leaving. I was jumping off the train. They couldn’t understand it, because that train was the only ride most of these guys would ever know.
I didn’t care, because I had made my choice. I still walked around like I owned the place, because there wasn’t one guy in that company who could even hold my jockstrap. If I wanted to shoot on anyone in that locker room at any time, there wasn’t a thing anyone could have done about it. I could have stretched every single one of them out. But that’s not what the business is about, so I tried to be good about it. Be a professional. Do my job. Earn my check. Be a provider for my family.
My daughter, Mya, changed my life. I wanted to be there for her, wanted to watch her grow up. So many of these guys, with their multiple ex-wives, and broken-up families in different states, missed everything that’s really important in life. I didn’t want that, and I didn’t want that for my daughter either. She deserves a real father.
Don’t get me wrong. There were a lot of good things about working for WWE. I made a lot of money, even though I spent quite a bit of it trying to get out of my contract. I became famous, which did help me when I wanted a chance in the UFC. I learned about promotion and marketing. But the best thing was meeting my wife. If I hadn’t been in WWE, I wouldn’t have met Rena. She’s given me two healthy sons, and she’s been wonderful with Mya. When I say I’m a man