Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [62]
Even so, it’s unfortunate that it has been buried forever and technically doesn’t exist anymore.
With all of the prominent matches I’d been having, my profile was bigger than ever. As a result, I was getting more outside opportunities, including being asked to be a presenter at the NHL Awards. I was excited to rub elbows with the players, especially when I found out that one of my all-time heroes, Wayne Gretzky (I’m Canadian, so it’s a given, right?), was going to be there.
I came to the ceremony decked out in my Sergio Georgini tuxedo and roamed around with a camera crew while interviewing all of the various celebs in attendance. I had just finished giving Chad Kroeger of Nickelback a Fozzy CD (sell, sell, sell) when a vaguely familiar face approached me and introduced himself. “Hey, you’re Chris Jericho, right? How are you doing?”
When I cautiously replied that I was okay, he leaned in and whispered, “Go into that closet and close the door. I’ll give you five minutes.”
I had no idea what this guy’s schtick was, but like I said, he looked kind of familiar.
“Trust me, you’ll love it.”
What the hell was in that room? The Crystal Skull? The Pick of Destiny? The ghost of Terry Sawchuk?
I walked inside the broom closet and in front of me was a large trunk. I approached it cautiously and opened the lid slowly. I was shocked to see what lay inside.
Gwyneth Paltrow’s head.
Actually it was the Stanley Cup, and it was more beautiful than I ever could’ve imagined. The guy who let me in the closet was Mike Bolt, who’d been transporting and guarding the cup for a decade. Now, for the next five minutes I was allowed to do whatever I wanted with the most coveted trophy in sports!
I briefly considered pulling an American Pie but couldn’t find a hole. Then I imagined that the closet was MSG and I had just scored the winning goal of the Stanley Cup Finals—in overtime, no less. I grabbed the cup and lifted it over my head, all the while making crowd noises.
“Hhhhhaaaaaaaaahhhhhaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!”
I kissed it and lifted it up and down, still making the noises.
“Hhhhhaaaaaaaaahhhhhaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!”
When I told my dad what I’d done, he said he had never touched the Cup. I asked him why and he told me: “Because we lost the Stanley Cup Finals in Game 6 in 1971 against the Bruins. I had my chance and we didn’t get the job done, so I don’t deserve to touch it.”
I respected my dad’s sense of honor, but possessed none of it myself, so I kept lifting the Cup up and down over my head before eventually hugging it. I began waltzing with it, and cradling it in my arms like a long-lost lover. I started singing my own little song as I was dancing.
“I love my Cup. I love my Cup. Without you, I’m all screwed up. I love my Cup—”
Lost in the moment, I did a double pirouette straight into Mike Bolt, who was standing in the doorway staring at me.
The silence seemed to last longer than the 1936 Detroit-Montreal game.
“Okay, Chris. Put the Cup down and leave … please.”
I lowered it to the floor and squeezed past him out the door, sparing one last glance at my long-lost paramour as I left it forever.
Goodbye, Cup. I’ll always love you.
After my Cup coitus, I wandered into the banquet hall and surveyed the scene. The attendees of the awards show were milling around, exchanging stories and kibitzing with each other. Here was Jarome Iginla talking to Patrick Roy. There was Scottie Bowman sharing a laugh with Cam Neely. On the dance floor, Moe Mantha was break-dancing with Harold Snepsts. And over in the corner, Gary Bettman was playing with a brightly colored ball of yarn.
Gordie Howe was signing an autograph, Wayne Gretzky was standing by the bar, Teemu Selänne was—
Stop. Hold on. Stay in control.
Wayne Gretzky was standing by the bar!
My heart jumped into my throat and I immediately forgot about my beloved Cup. It had never treated me right anyway. Besides, just a few feet in front of me was the greatest hockey player of all time. The Canadian Jesus who had been placed on Earth by the Lord above to mystify