Death Clutch - Brock Lesnar [54]
I spent a couple thousand bucks to get the best tickets for me and my lawyers, and I had them leak to the press that I was going to be at the fight. I also did some radio shows where I let it slip that I would be in Vegas to watch Couture fight Gonzaga.
When I showed up for the fight, it was funny because there were a lot of celebrities in the crowd that night, and at one time or another every one of them was up on the big screen. Actors. Basketball players. Football players. Singers. Other fighters. But not me. Not even once.
My lawyers bet me that the UFC would not put a camera anywhere near me, because I wasn’t under contract to them, had just fought for a rival organization, and, most importantly, I was that guy from WWE. We knew the UFC didn’t want anything to do with sports entertainment, because fans accepted the UFC as the real deal and there was no reason to toy with that perception.
I’m not saying the UFC did anything to make me feel unwelcome. I’m sure they were happy taking my money for the tickets. But they didn’t do anything to make me feel welcome, either. When the show came to an end, the lights were coming up, the cameras were going down, the fans were leaving the building, and I had to make a quick decision.
That’s when I said to my lawyers, “Boys, I’m hopping the rail, and no one better try and stop me.” Lawyers being lawyers, they just started getting ready for any legal issues that might come about because of my move. Deep down, they loved the fact that their client had such balls.
I jumped down to the main floor, pushed my way through the crowd, and walked right past security. When I got near the Octagon I found myself directly behind Dana White, so I tapped him on the shoulder and introduced myself.
We found an empty room in the back of the arena, and Dana sat down with me and my lawyers. I’ll give him credit; Dana didn’t pull any punches. That’s a good thing for a promoter in the real fight business. He came right out with it. “What makes you think you can do this, Brock? What makes you think you can be in the UFC with the best fighters in the word?”
I told Dana, “Don’t look at me like I’m an entertainer thinking he’s a real athlete. I AM A REAL ATHLETE, an NCAA Division I Heavyweight Champion. Pro wrestling just offered me a chance to get out of debt and make a lot of money right out of college.”
I only had a few minutes to make my case because Dana had to get to the postfight press conference. I was just as up front with him as he was with me. I told Dana I don’t have the time to work my way up in small organizations, fighting tomato cans. Either I can be a champion fighter, or I can’t. I asked Dana to just give me one chance, with the best part of it being that the UFC couldn’t lose in the deal.
If I win, the UFC has the golden goose. If I lose, someone else is going to become a star at my expense. Either way, my fight will draw money. MMA fans will pay to see me get my ass kicked. WWE fans will pay to see one of their own take on the best the UFC has to offer. There was no downside to the idea.
Dana knew this was a win-win proposition, but he also knew he had to throw me to the wolves. If Dana was going to give a WWE guy a shot, without ruining his own credibility, it couldn’t look like a work or an easy setup. It had to be against a real opponent. There are no easy fights in the UFC, and Dana wasn’t going to offer me one just to build me up. I wasn’t looking for any favors, either. I wanted to start at the top.
Dana had to leave for the press conference, but I wanted an answer. I got the one I was looking for. The UFC was going to give me a shot.
At the time, the promotion was looking to do something with its former Heavyweight Champion Frank