Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [148]
He jumped out of the chair in shock and I burst out laughing.
“Ha-ha! Looks like Mr. Horror Man is scared!! Ohhh, you ain’t so scary now, are you, Hostel boy!”
He didn’t invite me back to his house for three months.
CHAPTER 40
The Baby-Faced Assassin
When I was growing up I originally had three dreams: to be a wrestler, a rock star, and a hockey player. As I got older, the hockey dream died when I found out that I just wasn’t very good. But I still followed the game meticulously and played for fun in the local rinks whenever I could.
But I never imagined I’d play in the most famous arena in the world until I got a call in December 2000 from the New York Rangers asking me if I wanted to take part in a charity hockey game at Madison Square Garden organized by Christopher Reeve.
A chance to play hockey in MSG? Gee, let me check my skedge …
I was totally keyed up to follow in my father’s skatestrides and play in the same battleground where he had become famous, especially since Chris Reeve was involved.
I had been following Chris’s progress as a quadraplegic for years, and his advances in the field of spinal cord injury were a real inspiration to me and my mom. His condition was actually worse than hers, as he needed a breathing tube to function, but he had an unbelievably positive attitude and honestly believed he would someday walk again.
He was also highly respected in the entertainment world, and the Superskate became the talk of the town. I found myself shmoozing with such Hollywood A-listers as Cuba Gooding Jr., Michael J. Fox, Kiefer Sutherland, Boomer Esiason, Tim Robbins, and Matthew Modine. I hit it off with David Boreanaz, who gave me his cell number. I complimented Rick Moranis on his work with SCTV, but with every mention of Jerry Todd, Skip Bittman, or Linsk Minyk all I got was a simple nod and a mumbled “Thanks.” Susan Sarandon was the coach of my team and called me her supermodel. Dammit Janet, I love you.
Brad Roberts, the singer of the Crash Test Dummies and my old guitar teacher from Winnipeg, sang the national anthem. When I skated over to say hi, Brad had no idea who I was and mmm-mmm-ed away midsentence.
But I got a great reaction from the MSG aficionados when my name was announced, and it motivated me to put on a good show. I spent the first half of the game horsing around with Theo Fleury, Bryan Leetch, and Glen Anderson, before dropping my gloves and challenging Denis Leary to a fight. We worked it like a wrestling match as we circled each other milking the crowd for cheers. Then we embraced arm in arm and skated off the ice while stripping off our equipment à la Ned Braden in Slapshot.
After the game I was entered in the breakaway portion of the skills contest. I skated down the ice on Rangers goalie Kirk McLean and took the weakest slapshot ever unleashed in the history of the Garden. It fluttered off the ice like a drunken bat and floated end over end directly over the shoulder of McLean. Maybe he wasn’t paying attention or was merely mesmerized by my atrocious shot, but it didn’t matter. I lost my mind and did a victory lap around the ice, then ran in place like the Baby-Faced Assassin before riding my stick like Tiger Williams.
I had just scored a legitimate goal on the netminder for the New York Rangers in Madison Square Garden.
You can file that one under Most Awesome Experiences of My Life.
At the end of the night, both teams lined up in the center ice and Chris wheeled out to say a few words. “Of all the hockey games I’ve ever seen … that one was the worst.” He worked the crowd like a pro, confident, funny, and appreciative of all of us who had made the night so special. I went and shook Chris’s hand, and the first thing I noticed was how big of a man he was sitting in his chair. He instantly reminded me of Droz. I introduced myself, and after a few minutes of chitchat I told him my mom was a quadriplegic and that he was an inspiration to us both.